Chapter 43
Maren
“What are you doing here?” he rushes me and plants a concerned kiss on my lips.
“Horner and I are just sharing a cup of tea and talking about my potential future back here in Mango Bay.”
He turns his gaze to Horner, and I watch as his eyes go from a wide shocked expression to small slits that barely reveal the sparkle that usually sits there.
“Why would you entertain this conversation, Horner?” He spits out the words like they cause his distress.
“Because it’s not my place to meddle in your relationship,” Horner responds. “You clearly haven’t talked to her, and I’m not one to deliver someone else’s news.”
The venom in their tones and their eyes makes me feel uneasy.
“Oz, stop talking to each other like I’m not in the room.” My voice is shaky, “What news didn’t you tell me?”
I barely get the question out around the lump in my throat. My hands are sweaty, and I find myself sliding into the chair next to me, suddenly unable to hold my own weight.
He takes a long breath in, and an even longer exhale and then runs his hand through his hair.
“Ozzie,” I demand when he doesn’t answer me.
He gives another heated glance in Horner’s direction and addresses him again. “Did you offer her a job?”
I stand up and step in-between him and Horner, placing my hand on his chest. “Ozzie.”
“Mare, please tell me you didn’t quit your job in New York.”
“Ozzie!” I yell his name this time, making it crystal clear he needs to fucking answer me.
“Mare. Please.” I’m frustrated that he’s expecting me to acknowledge him, when he’s not offering me the same respect right now, but there’s something haunting in his gaze that compels me to give in.
“My parents may not be a huge influence in my life, Oz, but one thing they engrained in me is that you never quit a job before you have a new one lined up.”
The sound of his breath as he exhales in relief startles me and I step back to get a better look at him. His shoulders fall and it’s the first time since he walked in here that I realize how tense they were.
“What’s going on, Oz?” Jax speaks up from behind me, and I jump in surprise. I didn’t even realize he was there.
“Jax, why don’t you chat with Horner, while Mare and I take a walk.”
He gives Horner an approving nod, and a silent conversation passes between them that makes me feel like ice was dumped down my back.
As soon as he closes the door, I start rambling. My anxiety is in overdrive. “Ozzie, what the hell is going on? You are starting to scare me. Why is Horner so pissed at you? He’s never pissed. He’s a goddamn ray of sunshine.”
“I got traded.” His words leave me speechless. “Well, I asked to be traded, I asked him to figure out a way to inflate the staff numbers in the draft to place me on another team for the season.”
My brows crease in confusion, “Why?” I can’t imagine Mango Bay without him. I don’t understand.
“He sent over the paperwork yesterday to have me join the Bagel Bombers as their starting shortstop for this season.”
I shake my head. “This season? The one that starts in a month?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you do that?”
He smiles at me, and I push him out of my way so I can get some fucking air. He’s pissing me off.
“Ask me where they are?” he says and it makes me stop.
I turn around, and huff in response, “What?”
“Ask me where they are.”
“Who?”
“The Bagel Bombers.” He moves closer to me, and closes the rest of the distance by wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in.
I tilt my head as realization dawns on me, “Where?”
“Jersey. Exactly 45 minutes by train to Penn Station.”
I start crying, because I don’t know what else to do, “You love it here. This is your home.”
“Not anymore. You’re my home, Mare.”
“No, you love this,” I try to reason with him, but he’s already made the decisions.
“Mango ball? Yes. I love every second of it, and you know what, Mare? I’ll still have that, just on another team.
But having you too, that’s my dream. I’ve had the game without you for long enough to know my future isn’t about the game.
It’s about what’s beyond the game, when the gates close, and the fans go home, ten years from now when my body gives out. ”
My heart is racing, and I’m having a hard time placing the words as he keeps talking.
“We’re going to find a cramped little apartment that I promised, with terrible plumbing I’ll constantly have to work on, and the perfect fire escape, and I will spend the rest of our lives learning how to make it a home. ”
“You’re leaving your home for me?”
He squeezes my hand, “No. I’m building a home with you.”
He exhales, and something in me settles.
“Ok,” I whisper. “Let’s go home.”