Love Bats Last (The Heart of the Game) (14 page)

Cory was right; the swells were much bigger now. The first two waves of a set rolled through. The third wave rose at least ten feet above the horizon as it rolled toward Jackie and Cory.

He saw Jackie turn and start to paddle furiously. Cory signaled to her to hold off, but she didn’t. She paddled with a speed and finesse that Alex might’ve admired if he hadn’t seen what she was about to do. She was paddling in front of an enormous wall of water. Cory paddled hard, trying to stop her. Before he reached her, the wave caught her board. With a last shove of strength, she glided into the force of it and stood. She teetered as the tip of the board dipped into the wave.

The fist in his stomach tightened when he saw her tumble off the board and disappear, engulfed in the churning power of the ocean. He leaped up and ran into the breakers. The horror of his sister’s drowning ripped through him. She’d died in waves much smaller than these. He fought down terror as he thrashed deeper into the surf.

For a moment all he could see was Cory coming in on a following wave and shouting, but Alex couldn’t hear what he said. Alex scanned the whitewater. Then Jackie and the board popped out of the foam about ten yards from him.

He fought through the surf and pulled her to her feet, then picked her up and carried her to the shore, her board dangling behind them like a macabre tail. He hugged her close and felt her heaving for air against his chest. Once clear of the water, he dropped to his knees, still holding her, and set her on the sand. He held her as fits of coughing racked her body. He wasn’t sure what to do. All he knew was that he wanted her to be okay. And that it felt like a miracle to have her safe in his arms.

A lifeguard ran up and dropped down beside them, signaling to Alex to back away. The lifeguard leaned over Jackie and checked her pulse, peered into her eyes.

“She was under for a long time,” Alex said, feeling useless as Jackie continued to hack and gasp.

“I saw it,” the lifeguard said.

“She should never have taken that wave,” Alex said, shaking his head. “She didn’t see how massive it was.”

“I
saw
fine,” Jackie said weakly, between hacks. With a violent shudder she heaved out of the lifeguard’s hold, leaned to the side and threw up on the sand. Then she straightened and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her wetsuit.

“Bit of a daredevil stunt, don’t you think?” He hadn’t meant for his words to sound chastising. Or maybe he had. It’d been a crazy, foolish risk. “The ocean isn’t some friendly benevolent force.”

She gawked at Alex through matted strands of hair. “Safety lessons from a guy who stands in front of ninety-mile-an-hour fastballs? That’s ripe.”

“She’s in shock,” the lifeguard said. “It happens—lack of oxygen. But her vitals are stable, so she’s lucky.” He tugged the Velcro closure at the neck of her wetsuit open and began to peel the sandy suit down Jackie’s still shaking body. “It’s good she got that water up.”

“I am
not
in shock,” she said as she batted the lifeguard’s hands away. She shuddered and hung her head between her knees. “I’m fine, really. Go catch up with your girlfriend.” She peered up. “Or should I say
girlfriends
.”

“I rather think it’s shock as well,” Cory said, dropping to his knees beside the three of them. “Starting with the boneheaded move of taking that wave.” He grabbed the shoulders of her wetsuit and stripped it down to her waist. “Breathe.”

Cory took the towel the lifeguard offered and wrapped it around her shoulders. “See if you can stand,” he said as he leaned back and held out his hands.

She took Cory’s hands and struggled to her feet. The fist in Alex’s stomach eased as he saw her take a few stable steps with Cory’s help.

“I’m going to take her in,” Cory said over his shoulder to Alex. “Nothing a warm bath and a cup of tea can’t take care of.”

Cory wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter to his side.

“I can
walk
,” she said as she tried to tug away from her brother. “I don’t need your help.”

Alex wasn’t so sure.

From the perspective of the crowd of tourists and onlookers on the beach, the seal release in Monterey was a spectacular success. The volunteers from the Center lined up the kennels containing the seals along the tideline of a tiny crescent of bay. At the signal of their crew chief, they opened the crates in unison. The harbor seals used their small flippers to inch out of the crates and across the pebbled beach. Their unswerving progress made it clear that they were made for the sea. The seal farthest from Alex and Trish peered out, as if unsure whether to leave the safety of its crate. Then it lifted its head, sniffed the air and wriggled toward the water. The crowd burst into applause as the first seal nosed into the lapping waves. One lady gave a donation on the spot to one of the surprised volunteers.

“Look,” Trish said to Alex with an excited grin. “They’re staring back at us.”

Four heads telescoped up above the surface and peered back with their huge, round eyes. Then, as if someone had choreographed it, they dove and swam out of sight.

An unfamiliar warmth spread in Alex’s chest as he watched the seal he’d helped Jackie stitch up, the one he’d helped feed and keep warm, watched it swim and dive, once again in its element. Seeing the seal swim free felt like accomplishment and it stunned him. He searched the faces of the volunteers and the watching crowd and knew that they felt it too.

He looked up the beach again, hoping that Jackie had arrived, but she hadn’t. His elation over the seal instantly deflated. He tried to bite back his worry and enjoy the celebration, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Still feeling off-kilter, Alex drove Trish back up to Santa Cruz for the Surf Expo later that afternoon. Cory took a few spectacular waves during the first set and thrilled Trish and the photographers. Alex kept scanning for Jackie, but again she didn’t show.

While Trish pelted one of the surfers with questions and her best flirtatious looks, Alex walked down the beach and grabbed Cory between sets.

“How’s Jackie?” He tried not to sound anxious.

“She’s still shaky,” Cory said. “But she said to thank you for pulling her out. She’s sleeping it off right now.” He wrapped a towel around his waist and waved off a photographer headed toward them. “And she’s sorry she missed the release. She told me you helped her with one of the seals.”

“Held it down is more like it.”

“The tale I heard is you leapt over a ten-foot wall and saved a volunteer.”

Alex laughed. “Thank God for tall tales or I’d have to do something to earn a reputation.”

A voice on the loudspeaker barked out Cory’s name.

“Show time.” Cory must’ve seen the concern in Alex’s face, because he added, “Don’t worry about Jackie, she’ll be fine.” He grabbed his board and jogged toward the water. “She’s survived much worse.”

That was exactly what Alex was afraid of.

Chapter Eleven

Alex tossed his keys onto the dining room table of his apartment. They skidded up against a stack of mail that had grown about a foot since he’d left for the road trip.

It’d been a good trip; he’d racked up six home runs and had managed to get on base nearly every at-bat.

But he’d been preoccupied, absentminded. He’d left his watch in the hotel room after the All Star game. He’d never done that before. And he’d forgotten his mother’s birthday. He’d only done that
once
before and after the repercussions, he’d been determined it would never happen again.

And it was all because he’d been thinking about Jackie.

She’d gotten to him in a way that he couldn’t deny, and all his naysaying only made it more impossible to put her out of his mind. He’d called the Center a couple of times from the road, but hadn’t left messages when her machine picked up.

Now that he was back home, the tug to get back to her started again in earnest. He wanted to see her. He’d palmed his cell more than once wanting to call again, but thought better of it every time.

He checked his emails and canceled hooking up with a lovely young widow whom Scotty had introduced him to after the previous homestand. Though his body strained for the release of a good night’s pleasure, casual sex didn’t hold the appeal that it once had. The women he’d shared hot nights with in the past always claimed they were fine with the no-strings-attached, purely sexual encounters, but he wasn’t sure he was, not anymore. The night with Trish in Santa Cruz had told him more than he wanted to know. And it both puzzled and irritated him that the brief time he’d spent with Jackie could make him want to walk into territory he’d sworn to avoid.

Wiped out, he moved to the living room and dropped to the couch, slouching against the cushions. The silence was soothing.

He closed his eyes.

And immediately an image of Jackie—fit and lithe and luscious—filled his mind.

He might have canceled a meet-up with Scotty’s friend, but he wouldn’t have passed up a night with Jackie. And he wouldn’t have to. She’d been in his dreams, waking and sleeping, for days. He guessed that tonight would be no different.

He pictured her as he’d first seen her, struggling with the Zodiac. Then he pictured her fearlessly going over a cliff, more concerned about a whale than about her own safety. And then he imagined her as he’d not yet seen her, peeling off her clothes and smiling, tempting him, accepting him. Wanting him.

He pressed his head back and groaned.

This was where fatigue and thoughts of Jackie always led, to him getting hard, with no means of relief beyond his own hand. And he was tired of it. Tired of acting like some callow teenager. Just because he hadn’t had sex for a few weeks didn’t mean thoughts of Jackie should set him off.

But hell, she appealed on so many levels. He dragged a hand over his face, hoping to clear his mind. But why couldn’t he imagine what might happen one day? He’d trained himself to imagine hitting pitches, working through every possible pitch and his responses step by step. Why would his approach be any different with a woman he wanted?

And why was he arguing with himself?

He jumped up and stepped back into the kitchen. He grabbed an apple from the refrigerator, then returned to the mail, determined to shake his mind free of naked veterinarians. He flipped through the stack, tossing most of the envelopes aside to be recycled.

Near the bottom of the pile he came to a blue-edged envelope with the bright logo of The California Marine Mammal Center.

He’d nearly thrown it away before he’d left.

He fingered the envelope, then grabbed his letter opener and sliced it open.
An Invitation to an Evening with Dr. Brandon
spread across the page in finely engraved script. He laid the invitation on the table and tilted back in his chair.

He hadn’t seen Jackie since the day of the surf contest, but he could still feel her touch on his skin. He’d replayed that day in his mind a hundred times and it never came out with a better ending, though he’d long since realized her comment about his
girlfriends
meant she’d thought Sabrina had come down with him and Trish. He’d never been one for threesomes, but she didn’t know that. That it mattered to her had surprised him. He’d also been surprised to discover her irritation satisfied something in him. That seemed too... juvenile, but it was true.

He clicked on his phone and checked his schedule.

Before he knew it, he’d tapped out an RSVP and pressed Send.

He’d take Sabrina and introduce her to Jackie, put out that fire. Maybe they’d like each other. And Sabrina loved anything to do with animals.

It was a good plan.

He imagined Jackie nodding, maybe smiling, when she discovered he wasn’t interested in a three-way. And then he imagined that she might tilt her head back, press her hands to her hips and ask what he
was
interested in. And with that image, he was instantly hard again.

Giving in to the inevitable, he tossed what was left of his apple in the trash and headed toward his bedroom. He was fooling himself if he thought he’d distracted his body; it was primed and ready to go off. And he intended to put out that fire as well. He stripped as he walked, dropping clothing as he aimed for the shower.

He’d think better if his body wasn’t screaming at him, wasn’t demanding sex at every moment. He’d practice some of his finely honed visualization under the pounding showerheads. Yeah, that too was a good plan.