Part 35 (1/2)
His mouth looked incredibly tempting and she wanted nothing more than to touch her lips to it. Sara mentally groped for a lifeline and found none.
”Sure. It's his house.” Feeling oddly light-headed, she gestured vaguely toward the front of the house, where she a.s.sumed Brom was waiting. ”Let's see what you've got , Sinclair.”
He looked into her eyes. ”All right, but I want you to remember that you were the one who asked.”
Her throat tightened, almost cutting off all available air. Sara refused to surrender to the jittery little hum that traveled through her like a precursor to an earthquake.
”I remember everything. It's both the gift and the curse of having a photographic memory. Now stop talking and let's see some action.”
She was going to add ”out on the field” but she never had the opportunity. Nik was already touching off an explosion within her as he lowered his mouth to hers.
There was no immunity. Unlike inoculation, there was no way she could protect herself from him by having kissed him before. No tolerance had been formed, no antibodies filled her to take the edge off what was happening to her. What happened each time he kissed her.
The world flipped over. Day became night and she was catapulted light-years away from a ranch house in Tahoe to a world of fire and heat. Mardi Gras in outer s.p.a.ce, she thought, clinging to Nik's s.h.i.+rt.
It took everything she had not to let herself drift through the region permanently. With her head spinning, she pulled back. It was only a small consolation that Nik was breathing as hard as she was.
”G.o.d, if you can play baseball only half as well as you can kiss, I don't think that Brom's team has a prayer of winning.”
Nik ran his thumb along her bottom lip and had the pleasure of feeling her s.h.i.+ver against him. ”Is that a compliment ” ”
Sara shrugged. I always call them as I see them. Nik pinned her with a scrutinizing look that drew out the lie like a magnet pulling out a pin. ”Well, almost always. She placed both her hands on his chest and pushed him away. ” Now get out there and play ball. ”
Once at the park, Sara settled in beside Julia and the baby. Exercising supreme effort, she purposely shut out the barrage of splintered memories that were trying to break through. This was Nik's day to relax and she wasn't going to spoil it, or insult Brom's hospitality by allowing the sadness to get the better of her.
Sara glanced around at the wives and children who'd come to join in the recreation. Blankets were scattered all over the perimeter of the playing field like so many multicolored lily pads floating on a lake.
Brom had thought of everything, right down to providing hot dogs, sodas and popcorn. And right afterward, there would be a picnic lunch.
Jennifer dropped down next to them on the gra.s.s. Katie made a beeline for the hot dogs.
”He goes all out, doesn't he?” Jennifer asked her sister.
Julia nodded, but it was Sara who answered. ”Brom never did things in half measures. It was always all or nothing” She squinted as she looked for him out in the field. Brom was playing shortstop this inning. ”Brom likes to bring pa.s.sion to everything he does.”
Julia only smiled to herself, silently agreeing.
Nik was the third man up to the plate. Sara cringed a little , hoping that he wouldn't do too badly. Maybe a bunt or a walk to get him on base. She didn't want to see him strike out his first time up.
Without realizing it she crossed her fingers and tensed, watching his every movement.
The pitcher threw once, and then again. Each time Nik swung, he came in contact with air as the ball whizzed by him into the crouching catcher's mitt as if it contained some sort of homing device.
Sara shut her eyes.
Jennifer nudged her. ”You can't see that way.”
”That's the whole point,” Sara murmured, opening one eye hesitantly.
And then suddenly Sara jumped to her feet, stunned. Belatedly , she began cheering as the third time the pitcher threw to Nik the ball connected with the bat. A resounding smack splintered the sultry afternoon air and the ball was launched into a huge arc that flew far beyond the outfielder 's raised glove.