Wild Pitch (Dominating the Diamond Book 1)

CHAPTER 38

My phone buzzes from the nightstand just as I step out of the bathroom freshly showered, with my hair wrapped in a microfiber towel, moisturizer and the tiniest bit of make-up on my face, and a bottle of lotion in one hand. I hurry to check the notification, wondering if my notoriously late moms are telling me they’re about to leave the house or if, by some miracle, they’re already here and waiting to pick me up.

Reyes:

Hungry?

I read the message while massaging my favorite strawberry-scented lotion into my arms. The one-word text makes me smile until my cheeks hurt, and there’s no denying the nervous flutter in my stomach. I reach out to reply, but Reyes beats me to it.

Reyes:

Most of the guys are going out, if you want to join them

The disappointment sinking in my gut is disproportionate. Truth is, I should want to go out to eat with the team. My relationship with them is leagues away from what I experienced here on the Scorpions. Part of me is thrilled by the invitation to go with them, to keep up that teammate bonding. Part of me is scared to get too attached when I could get traded or dropped back to the minors at any moment. All it would take is a couple bad games to outweigh the publicity benefit of being the only team with a woman.

Fearing that rejection is only part of it. It would be a massive lie to pretend that I wasn’t hoping for a more personal message from the catcher.

Reyes:

Or you could show me one of your favorite spots, since we’re on your home turf, rookie

Reyes:

Or I could go pick something up. If you want to stay in and let me beat your ass at mahjong some more

Me:

My moms are picking me up for dinner pretty soon

Reyes:

Oh. Cool. I should have thought of that

Me:

Want to come?

I lay back in the bed with my legs hanging off the side and the bottle of lotion forgotten. It’s been so long since I’ve had a crush like this. Hanging onto every word. Grinning like a fool over every message. All of my, ‘I don’t date ballplayers,’in the world can’t save me now.

Reyes:

… really? I just got my dick under control, and you had to phrase it that way? Mean

Me:

LOL you make it to easy, what can I say

Reyes:

Only for you, mami

Me:

Troublemaker. I’ve gotta finish getting ready

Me:

Meet me in the lobby in 10 minutes. Wanna invite Dante?

Reyes:

Wow, way to crush a guy’s spirit

Reyes:

I’m kidding. Yeah, I’ll tell him to come with. He’d kill me if he found out I got a home-cooked meal without him

I laugh and toss my phone aside.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Dante says as he and Reyes climb into the backseat of my mom’s white Camaro.

“You’re always welcome at our place, both of you,” my mom says and eases us away from the curb. I buckle in, knowing how fast she’s going to drive the second she’s out of the parking lot. “If Sierra had told me she wasn’t going to be alone, I would have borrowed Ruby’s SUV.”

“No worries. This isn’t the first time Reyes and I have been crowded together like this.”

Choking on my water, I watch in the rearview mirror as Reyes glares at Dante. My mom laughs and shakes her head but doesn’t take her eyes off the road.

“What? We’ve been friends since before it was all charter planes and fancy team buses. Get your head out of the gutter, Reyes.”

They both get quiet when we merge onto the highway, and my mom floors it. There’s a moment of surprise before Dante starts cheering her on. It’s not that my mom is reckless; she’s a safe driver who just happens to view speed limits as challenges. The surprise comes because she’s so much unlike me. Fearless. A risk-taker. She’s been the one to push mama and me out of our comfort zones as far back as I can remember.

It’s not far to our ranch-style home. My mom honks as we drive past our neighbors partying in their front yard, and there’s nothing like the smell of carne asada and the sounds of laughing children and mariachi music to welcome me home.

“We’ve got company!” Mom yells while we enter the single-story house through the garage and kick our shoes off in the living room.

Music filters toward us from the kitchen, and I’m not surprised to find my mama dancing alone in her own little world as she fills the kitchen island with platters of way too much food. Especially considering she wasn’t expecting to feed two of my teammates.

Mom wraps her arms around Mama’s waist and pulls her out of her internal world with a kiss on the cheek before pointing to the three of us.

“Mija, you’re here.” Mama and I rush toward each other. I see the tears in her eyes before she pulls me into a hug, and I struggle to hold back tears of my own. I’m growing to love LA and my team there, but I’ve missed my family so much that our reunion actually hurts deep in my chest, even though they were just with me in LA a couple weeks earlier. There’s something special about being together in our own home. “And you brought Mateo and Dante!”

Mama has already moved forward to hug each of the men in turn, and my mom just laughs as she reintroduces them for Dante’s sake.

“That’s Ruby,” my mom reminds him. “And you can call me Fernanda. You can save the ‘Mrs. Ramirez’ for Sierra’s abuelita.”

I squint at my mom with the question written on my face. She points toward the sliding glass doors and nods.

“I know your mama always cooks too much when you come home to visit, but even for her this spread would have been overkill.” My mom laughs. “You didn’t think you’d come home without your whole family showing up, did you, sweet girl?”

As if on cue, the miniature bronze bells hanging from the sliding door alert us to my favorite tío’s entrance. I run across the open kitchen and dining room, and he catches me in a bear hug before the bells have stopped their quiet chiming. Tío Memo lifts me off my feet and spins me in a circle, the same way he has since I was a little girl, despite the fact that I’m a few inches taller than him and probably outweigh him, even now that he’s started putting weight on thanks to age and my mama’s cooking.

“You look good, Tío Memo.”

He sucks his teeth and pats his little belly. But his face glows with happiness and the rich brown of his summer tan. “You’re too kind, Cici,” he says using the nickname that only my family is privy to. “That’s why you’re my favorite niece.” He leans in and adds that part conspiratorially, as if I’m not his only niece in an extended family full of men.

I follow him out onto the covered patio overflowing with family members. In spite of my best efforts, the sight of so much family makes my tears flow, which only makes them swarm me even faster, cooing at me not to cry while passing me around for besos y abrazos. By the time I’ve greeted my abuelitos on my mama’s side and all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins from both sides, my cheeks are sticky with tears and smudged lipstick.

Dante and Reyes have already made themselves right at home. Introduced by my mothers while I was swept up in my own greetings, the two of them shake hands and make small talk with my family, while everyone heads inside to break into my mama’s cooking.

“So, you decided to introduce me to the whole family, huh?” Reyes leans into my side, and his playful tone lets me know that he’s only teasing.

“Just keeping you on your toes.” I’m grateful that he didn’t read too much into this. As little as I’ve dated, there are plenty of people in my past who would not have reacted so well to being surprised by the entirety of my local family.

Reyes tilts his head, so the heat of his breath ghosts over my ear as his next words send a shiver down my spine and heat flooding my core. “You know I prefer when you keep me on my knees.”

”Thanks for dinner. Your moms can throw down! And your uncles are hilarious. Me and the family owe you dinner at our place once we get some down time at home.” Dante says as the elevator doors open for his floor. He pauses in the threshold and glances at Reyes. “Make good choices.”

He disappears behind closing steel doors with a laugh that leaves the man beside me blushing and pinching his nose.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Reyes mumbles. “He’s right though. It was nice meeting your whole family like that.”

“It wasn’t too much?” I ask, still nervous even though we both know that I hadn’t planned the family ambush. Not to mention, we introduced him as just a teammate, the same as Dante, and no one else knows what’s been going on between us behind closed doors. Even if my moms and Dante clearly have their suspicions.

“It’s always been just me and my sister, and now Leila. I’m honestly jealous that you’ve got such a big family to come together.” Reyes leans against the back wall of the elevator and holds his hands out between us. I know it’s a bad idea–to risk getting caught, when I’m the one with so much more to lose–but I place my palms in his and let him pull me closer. I slot my feet between his and lean into his scent of warm, tropical nights. “And I liked seeing you with them.”

“I liked having you there. Even if it’s been ages since I introduced a boyfriend to my family–”

“A boyfriend?” Reyes asks before I even realize that I’ve slipped.

“I–” I open my mouth, not sure what to say next.

When my words don’t come, it doesn’t matter. Because his mouth is there. Warm and soft on mine. His kiss slow and tender as always. That languorous start of his lips finding mine as his hands clasp my hips. The perfection of his body arched around mine as his tongue fills my mouth. The taste of mint gum and the scent of guava on the skin that’s so soft beneath my fingertips. We mold to one another in the cool elevator air, caught in a sultry dance to the sound of piped-in jazz music, until our kiss escalates to a fever pitch.

The elevator chimes, and it takes all my self-control to break away with swollen lips. His hands linger at my waist for half a second. The doors open with us leaning against perpendicular mirrored walls, bringing back memories of our very first elevator ride together, only a few months ago after the All Star Game. The intensity between us is every bit as powerful as it was the night of that almost-kiss, but the frustration and irritation are gone. Reyes can’t hide behind his grumpy, jaded, older player persona anymore; although, the more I think about it, I realize he hasn’t tried. Not with me. Not since I saw the truth on Alejandro’s massage table.

“This is my floor.” He finally breaks the silence, but he makes no move toward the open doors. Deep brown eyes sear my skin, as if branding his unasked question into my very flesh.

He clears his throat and pushes off the wall. Fingerprints dot the mirror; smudges that I’m dying to see on my bedroom mirror and glass shower instead. I’ve been too caught up in my own appreciation of his body to respond; he straddles the threshold between the open elevator doors, and I realize my mistake.

“Goodnight, rookie.”

I grab his shirt and pull him back before the doors close.