Igniting the Wild Sparks (9 page)

He impatiently sighs
, raising his head. “Becks, if you’re…” He licks his lips and looks out to the city lights, yet his eyes close. “If you’re…pregnant, I don’t want you getting hurt because of it.” He barely could spit out that dirty word. So, being pregnant is just a side note to me maybe tripping over my shoes because of my big stomach and blowing our win.

“How am I going to get hurt because of it? It won’t change anything for a while if I am.”

Decisively looking at me, he argues, “You could feel sick and not be on top of your game, in a manner of speaking.”

“I’d tell you if I didn’t feel right.”

He doesn’t believe me from the glower on his face. “Would you really? I don’t want to take that risk and you get beamed in the head. You could get seriously hurt, Becks. I’ve heard of people even being killed by softballs to the head.” Oh. He’s
not
worried about me losing our baby, if there even is one.

Leaning close, h
e kisses beneath my ear, his deep voice husking, “Baby, I’m trying to protect you. It would kill me if you got hurt because of what I did to you.” Something as horrible as impregnating me? Wow. He really doesn’t want a baby.

Upholding my side of the debate, no matter what the topic is with him, I counter,
“It’s not all your fault. I was there, too.”

He straightens
, boring his dark eyes into my skull. “Becks, will you
please
stop arguing with me? You’re in the outfield until further notice. You’re lucky I’m letting you play at
all
.” Coach Wilder isn’t much fun.

“Okay. Damn,” I mutter against his chest.
I relent because I know I can’t win this argument. He’s the boss on the diamond and does have the authority to boot me, which leaves him in Shasta’s and Cara’s clutches.

Finn kisses my forehead as I sulk. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
His nose burrows into my hair and he keenly inhales. “You smell so good.” I feel the heat of his breath bathing the top of my head. Unexpectedly, he puts his hand beneath my chin, lifting my face to his zealous lips. Our dancing slowly comes to a halt as our kiss deepens. His hands leave my hips and catch my face, his fingers burying into my hair. Vaguely, I notice he has the song on repeat. I also realize I’m being drawn in and I won’t be able to resist him, yet
again
. He fervently licks his tongue against mine and I feel my resolve crumbling. I will definitely fuck him in front of that statue, and a quarter of Richmond.

I jerk away from him, breathing hard and so close to tearing the buttons off his shirt
like he did to mine at Bethany’s. “Finn, you said you’d give me a couple weeks to think about things. You’re making this more challenging than it should be. This isn’t one of your dares.”

He fro
wns while his eyes glide over my body. “No, you’re absolutely right. It’s not a dare, Becks. You think it’s easy for me seeing you wearing skirts and dresses, knowing I can’t take them off of you to see what I love underneath?” He holds me closer to him and cocks his head. “Do you think it’s easy for me to hear about your long shower? To watch you swing a bat? Bend over to pick up a softball or to stretch and jump to catch one? You think it’s
easy
for me to watch you lift your shirt up for a mic wire?”

Shaking my head, I say,
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were paying that much attention to me. There are a lot of us for you to watch.”

His hands tense around my arms.
“You’re the
only
one I want to watch. Why do you think I wear my sunglasses so much? It’s not because of the sun. It’s because of how much I can’t take my eyes off you.” He returns his hands to my hips and his thumbs glide over my stomach as we gape at each other.

“Becks, be honest with me. You’re not planning on leaving me because of our fight Monday night, are you?”

I earnestly say, “No, Sparks. I told you I want to think about my feelings and about going on the Pill.”

He
uses his right hand to brush through his hair, making it messier and so sexy. “Do you know what you want to do yet?”

I
glance to the city view. “No. I can’t make a decision about the Pill until I get my period.”

He nods.
“Right. Becks, if you don’t want to go on the Pill, there are other options. We can look into them. I’ll even get snipped.” My heart plummets at his suggestion. That’s rather permanent. He
truly
doesn’t want a baby with me.

“I don’t want you doing something that drastic. You might change your mind one day and it’d be too late. A lot of those reversals don’t work.”

“It’s still an option.” Of course it is. He’d probably go do it on a lunch break if I asked him to.

“I’ll make an appointment and talk to my doctor to see what he thinks.”

Again, he nods before quietly asking, “Do you think you might be pregnant?”

Heaven forbid Finn Wilder knock me up. His life would end.

We’re not even dancing anymore, only holding onto each other. I tentatively glance up at him. “I don’t know. It’s too early. I’ll take a test if I’m late.”

“I’ll be with you, if you want. It was my Easter gift. I’d like to see it through.” Jeez. How thoughtful. Am I invited to the celebration if
his gift turns out to be a dud?

I grumble, “I don’t know. You might not like the result.”

His hand dives into his hair again. “Becks, it’s still my responsibility. I’ll deal with it.”

“Just like how you’re dealing with being alone by drinking?”

Finn’s gaze hardens. “I don’t do it every night.”

“It’s enough. I’m worried about you.”

He stoops so he looks right into my eyes. “Then come back to me.”

I scrunch my face up. “I
am
with you, Finn. Why are you making this bigger than it is?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head before they fly open. “Because I fucking miss you. I barely see you enough as it is. And when I do see you, it’s in front of a bunch of other people. I can’t take it. I kissed you on camera, Becks.
On camera
. I never thought I’d do that in a million years. I would’ve kept going until we were full-blown, X-rated making out if Reed didn’t stop us. I crave your touch, baby. Any way I can get it.”

“I need to feel you, too. You’re all I think about.” I
slide my hands from his shoulders and curl my arms around his neck, my fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “So, you do miss me?”

He leans away from me and
indignantly arches his lip. “Don’t do that to me. How can you ask me that? I…” He moves away from me, my arms dropping as his hand flies to his mouth and he looks around us. Oh, shit. I’ve done it now. Why did I ask him that? Even Ricky knows Finn misses me without him having to say it. I’m an idiot.

Finn whips his head back and is again
in front of my face. “What do you want me to tell you? I miss you so much that I got in my car twice, wanting to drive over to your apartment last night. I miss you so much that I keep checking my phone to see if you called right up until I go in front of the camera. I miss you so much I don’t want Pam messing with my hair because I want it the way you like it, in hopes you’re watching me and wishing you were running your fingers through it. I miss you so much that all I can think about are your funny stories about your day, your smile against my lips, hearing you laugh when I tickle you, and how I’m in heaven when I’m inside of you.” His hands go to my cheeks, his thumbs brushing my lips. “I miss you so much I’ve been sleeping on your pillow, but your scent is disappearing. That is ripping me apart, baby.”

I nervously laugh
at his melodrama. “It’s only been a week.”

He snaps, “A day is too long, Becks!” He
releases his hands from me and puts them on his hips, staring at the ground between us.

I twist my fingers together
over my stomach. “We’ll be together again soon. I still need to sort things out.”

He inhales and looks up. His eyes are pleading. “Will you come home with me, just for tonight? I’ll even drive you to work
in the morning.”
Oh, Finn. Stop doing this to me!

I fervently shake my head.
“No. I can’t.” I won’t want to ever leave.

“We won’t have sex.”
I want too, though
. I stare doubtingly at him. He quickly says, “I’ll even put pillows between us.” I raise a disbelieving eyebrow and he tilts his head. “Okay. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

“When I’m sleeping in the next room in just a T-shirt in your bed?”

He sighs as a hand returns to his brown hair. “Forget that. I’d be no gentleman.”

I can’t help my laugh.
“Remember? Stay away from beds, couches, and backseats?”

He winces. “I never thought I’d have to relive that.”

“It’s not forever.”

“That’s what you said the first time.”
He’s killing me.

“Sparks, come on. It won’t be that long. You weren’t this bothered by it the first time.”

“That’s because I didn’t know what I was missing then.”

“Oh.” I release my fingers and close the gap between us, wrapping my arms around him and pressing against his body. He warily looks down at my face. His full lips are so tempting. I yield a small smile and whisper, “I promise to make it up to you, Sparks.”

His hands are again on my face and his lips hover next to mine. “Fuck. Don’t tell me that. Now that’s all I’ll be thinking about.”

I trail my fingers into his hair, always being like a magnet to them.
“I’ll stay with you next weekend. Okay?”

“When will you move in with me?”

I refrain from tugging his hair because I know that turns him on, not that there’s much that doesn’t. “Soon. Just don’t rush me, like you say.”

He huffs, “Fine.”

I lightly kiss him and move away, giving us a breather. “So, what’s the deal with Cara?”

He scratches the back of his neck
and appears confused. “What do you mean?”

“She wants you.”

His eyebrows wrench together. “How do you know that?”

“Because all she does is stare at you.”

His confusion changes into a knowing smirk. “So, you’re staring at her when she’s staring at me?”

My lips
ruefully tug to one side as I admit, “Basically.”

He chuckles. “Is my Becks
jealous
?”

I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “Yes. She doesn’t like me, either.”

“She’s never said she doesn’t. If she did, I’d have something to say about that.”

“Morgan doesn’t trust her.”

Now Sparks rolls his eyes. “Morgan doesn’t trust a lot of people. She’s always looking for a conspiracy.”

“She’s looking out for me.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I know, but so am I. You don’t have to worry about Cara. She’s harmless. I have absolutely no interest in her. She’s just a coworker, assistant coach and friend.”

I walk to the railing overlooking downtown and ask over my shoulder, “Did she know who I was?”

He follows me. “No. I didn’t tell her. I thought it’d eventually come out, not the way it did, but whatever. I’m actually glad it’s out. I’m tired of hiding around the people I work with. It’s nice to be able to give you a smile and not have to explain myself for gawking at you.”

“Gawking at me? So you’re not that good at hiding your infatuation with me by wearing sunglasses?”

“No. I think it’s rather obvious to everyone but you.”

I grab the metal and turn to look at him. “Did Cara accuse you of
liking me? Stalking me?”

He grips onto the metal next to my hand, his
chest touching my arm. “She caught me staring at you a lot. She reminded me that I have a girlfriend. I told her I was aware of that fact.”

I giggle.
“What’s Ricky say about her?”

A dark cloud seems to cross his face and he looks out to the city. “Ricky thinks she has a thing for me. He
also
reminded me I have a girlfriend.” He returns his attention to me. “There is nothing to worry about, baby. She can like me all she wants. The feeling isn’t mutual. I’m too much in love with you to even give her a second glance. Okay?”

I nod. “She’s so pretty and younger.”

“She might be pretty, but she’s doesn’t make my heart stop like you do. I love only you, Becks. Forever.”

I smile, making him smile. “I love you, too, Sparks. Forever and a day.” I poke at his chest and laugh. “Ha! I beat you!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I let you win.” He leans down to kiss me again as the city sparkles behind us.

CHAPTER
5

Monday morning, Rod is out of the office all day helping Amos with a deposition. The entire floor is rather quiet and extremely boring without him. What would I do if he quit his job? I can’t imagine how I got through my days without him before.

When Val wal
ks through my door, and dressed in red, she makes a reddish, blurred beeline to my desk.

She looks at me expectantly. “Well?
Where is it?”

I smile and dig into my purse for Finn’s ring.
Handing it to her, she eagerly snatches the box out of my hand and upon opening it, she shrieks, “Ooh, babe! It’s so neat! It kind of looks like a tire! Did you do that on purpose?”

I laugh
and rest my chin on my clenched hand. “Yes. Rod actually found it. He has a good eye in jewelry and clothes.”

“Well, that is true. That boy does have fabulous taste.
” She turns to see if anyone is near the door before whispering to me, “Are you sure he isn’t gay?”

Again, I laugh and shrug.
“He says he’s not. I’d support him either way.”

Winking, she closes the box and sets it down on my desk.
“Me, too. I love that kid. It’s horribly dull around here without him.”

I sigh and toy with the velvet box.
“I know. How did we ever manage without him?”

“I have
no
idea. Tell me more about that kiss! That blew our minds!” She checks her watch. “Oh, shoot. I have a meeting. Let’s do lunch and you can tell me all about it? Invite Morgan if she’s free.”

I nod and pick up my phone
as Val hurries into her office for her notes.

“Where’s Dick Rod?” Morgan stands from tying her shoe
in the locker room at the gym.

I toss my green and black gym bag next to her on the metal bench. “I don’t know. Maybe he had to work late with Amos.”

“Maybe he went
home
with Amos.”

“Oh, shut up!” I laugh. “
Rod’s not gay.”

She rolls her eyes as she puts her foot down onto the floor.
“I know. He’d probably pout and cry like a little girl if he heard me say that.”

“No doubt.”

“Are you and Finn free Saturday night for dinner?”

Opening my red locker, I pause to think about her question. “Um, I’m not sure. I’ll ask him. He might have to work late.”

“On a Saturday?”

I kick my heels off. “Yeah. He’s been working
late on weekends.”

“
Oh. How was dinner last night?”

I turn my back to her to take my purple blouse off and hurriedly yank on my white T-shirt.
“Good.” Finn probably would say it was a disappointment. I gather my hair into a ponytail since I had again left it down, now feeling paranoid about Rod’s hair observation.

As I finish pulling up my hair, Morgan demands,
“Hadley Beckett, did you fuck Finn Wilder?”

I snap my head up and quickly peer around us, stepping around the locker bank for eavesdroppers. “Shit
, Morgan!” I irritably whisper.

She laughs. “
It’s not like you haven’t fucked him before. You are so easy. So, were you that easy last night?”

I glare at her and she laughs again. “No. He asked me to go home with him, but I said no.” I take my gray pants
off and put on my black shorts.

She straddles the bench and I sit down next to her to
change into my sneakers. “Was he mad?”

I contemplate that as I push my foot into my shoe. “Not mad
, really. Frustrated with me, maybe. He doesn’t understand why I need time away from him. Sometimes it’s like he’s a hurricane and I’m a palm tree being whooshed around in his wake. Everything about him engulfs me and I can’t think straight. I want to make sure I know what I’m getting into before moving in with him and giving up things I want us to have. I’m going to make a last-ditch effort when I give him the ring, but I want to be sure that I can handle whatever happens after that.”

“Well, what about moving in with him then? Maybe you should hold off until after you propose, just in case. I mean, if you move in with him now and he says no to your ring, what then? Do you move back out? Do you stay? It might be awkward for you if you live with him and he says no.
Wait until after my wedding. That way, if he says no and you still want to be with him,” she pauses to roll her eyes and frown, “then you can move in with him after you’ve had a chance to recover, and not while he’s in your face day in and day out in the same apartment.”

I nod. “That’s a good point. I don’t think he’ll like
waiting, though.”

“
Jesus, Hadley. That’s all he has you doing for the things
you
want. Don’t tell him that’s what you’re doing. Just keep putting it off. My wedding is only weeks away. He can’t complain too much.”

I scoff,
“Yes he can, but I agree with you. I’ll wait until after your wedding.”

As we walk to the locker room door, Morgan asks,
“Where’d you go for dinner?”

“He actually got take-out and asked me to meet him at Chimborazo. We ate at the overlook and even slow danced.”

Actually sounding impressed, she prompts, “Really? I thought Wilder doesn’t dance?”

I
inanely grin. “He asked me to. It was so romantic.”

We walk out to the main area and see Rod leaning against the wall. He’s actually wearing clothes that fit him this time. When he sees us, he impatiently pushes off the wall, and I notice he’s wearing an old TLC shirt.

Practically stomping his way over to us, he frowns. “What takes you damn hags so long? I already did three circuits on the weight machine while waiting for you.” Months ago, I would’ve doubted that. But after my recent run-ins with his strength, I think Rod indeed does lift weights.

Morgan sneers, “We care about our appearance, unlike
some
assholes.”

He scowls. “No amount of time in the bathroom is going to fix
your
kind of ugly.”

“Really? And why are you wearing this TLC shirt with the sleeves rolled up? Do you think you have guns to show off?” She shakes her head and laughs. “I doubt you even know what a weight machine
looks
like.”

Rod flexes his arm to prove his point. “Uh huh! See! I have muscles!” They’re not enormous, but I’m actually impressed. Either Rod hides them well or I’m that distracted.

Morgan blows out a taunting laugh between her lips. “Elbow macaroni has more curl than that, Nimrod.”

Taking a step forward, he crosses his arms and glowers at her. “Oh, yeah? Well, scissors stay closed more than your legs do, obviously!”

Morgan jerks her head back with a mix of confusion and amusement. “What the hell?”

“I don’t know! Shut up, Morticia!” Rod pouts and gives me a side-glance as I cover my mouth with my hands.

“Watch it, Beckett.”

Morgan bumps my arm. “Yeah, Hadley, or you’ll be hit with a
Rodism
that will leave you curled into a ball, hugging your teddy bear on a shrink’s couch.”

I waggle my finger, indicating both of them. “You two need to hold hands or something. Hug it out.”

Rod scoffs, “And you can sit and spin.”

Morgan says to Rod, “You know what she’d really love to sit and spin on.”

Rod eagerly nods with a knowing smile. “Wilder’s dick?”

Morgan cocks her head, giving him an innocent look. “Gee, Rod. I wasn’t implying that at all, but I’m glad you could clear it up for us.”

I grumble, “You know. You two always talk about me as if I’m not standing right here.”

They both give me blank expressions. Rod credulously asks, “Oh, I’m sorry. Have we met?”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Why do I even bother?”

Morgan answers, “I haven’t the slightest clue.”

As I check the wall clock, Morgan oddly pulls on Rod’s arm. “I want to ask you something and you have to promise to have an open mind.”

He yanks his arm out of her grasp. “No, I will not claim your child as my own! That would raise a lot of questions around the office since it’ll have horns and hooves, not to mention I’m not black!”

She scowls. “Neither is Ivan, you airhead. I’m being serious, Ass Rod—Greg.” She anxiously tucks hair behind her ears and scans her eyes over the gym for witnesses. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in DJ’ing my wedding?”

Rod
gapes at Morgan in bewilderment. I again look at the huge clock wondering when he’s going to snap out of it. “Are you fucking serious? Are you joking? You’re yanking my dick, aren’t you?”

We both cringe and Morgan shrieks
, “Eww! Don’t even put
that
mental picture in my head! God!”

He
grabs Morgan by the shoulders and shakes her like a dirty carpet. “Yes! I’d love to! No fucking way! Thanks, Mortgage!”

She smacks his chest.
“You’re going to give my child shaken baby syndrome!”

Still in his happy zone, he
instead picks her up, swinging her around in a circle.

Morgan
yelps and pounds her fists on his shoulders. “Put me down!” A couple people curiously look at the three of us, probably wondering if they should call the police.

No need. I have my own officer on speed dial.

Rod sets her back down and immediately backs away. “Oh, sorry. I don’t want to make the pregnant woman hurl all over me.”

“
You already make me want to do that on a daily basis. Pregnant or not.”

He disdainfully frowns. “Funny.”

Morgan adds, “Yeah, especially since I’ve been having really bad morning sickness.”

He steps further back. “Gross!”

I examine her face. I haven’t even noticed she’s been sick. Some friend I am. “You’ve been sick?”

She
warily nods and pats her stomach. “I know it’s called morning sickness and it can happen any time of the day, but mine has actually only been in the mornings. It stops around 11:00. It’s so weird.”

Rod slowly walks back to us. “Remind me to not walk by your office until after
puke-thirty.” He then starts excitedly bouncing. “I’m so pumped! Anything you don’t want me playing at your bloodletting?”

She counts off on her fingers.
“Heavy rap. Strictly country. Polka. ‘The Chicken Dance’. I hate that song. No Manilow, either. Ugh. Everything else is cool. Make it a good mix. I’ll give you a list of all the songs we want played for the bridal dances.”

“Does this mean I don’t have to get you a gift?”

“Yes, Rod. As long as you don’t expect me to pay you.”

“Deal. Just feed me and I’m good.”

She acerbically smiles. “Deal.”

He narrows his eyes and clarifies,
“Not dog food, Morgasm.” Morgan teasingly snaps her fingers and I laugh.

“Well, I’m off to Evil Shane.” I heavily sigh, hoping for someone’s pity.

Morgan says, “Remind him that he has a tux fitting this week.” No pity there.

I wrinkle my nose. “That means I have to talk to him. Thanks a lot.”

Ignoring my complaint, she goes on. “You also need to find your dress. I’ll go with you to some places if you want me to. We’ll have dinner after.”

My mind
firmly fixed on the dreaded Shane, I vaguely reply, “Okay.”

I walk
to the hallway where the smaller workout rooms are located. Pushing open the door to Shane’s room, the devil himself is in the middle of the room, perusing his clipboard.

Awesome. I’m late, so he’s bound to bring that up. I
half-heartedly walk up to him and await my scolding.

“Ms. Beckett,” Shane acknowledges without looking up from his chart.
He makes me sound like the lady of the haunted manor and with the clipboard, he reminds me of Finn at practice yesterday, which disturbs me.