Undeniably Perfect (Perfectly Imperfect Love Series Book 1) Page 7

  I’m suddenly led out the front door and down the stairs by Lanie.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” she says. “Hey, KJ, you think Mr. Harris kept the lock number the same for lights?”

  “Let’s hope so,” he replies as he swings a bag over his shoulder.

  Mrs. Moore comes scurrying out of the house pulling on sneakers as do Di and Kylie. And then we are all walking down the tree-lined street. Lampposts light our way as we walk to the end of the street. The main road is even silent at this hour. We cross it and walk onto a field next to a school. I suddenly realize that they are going to play on the high school baseball field. A moment later, lights come on and Kylie is pulling bases out of a locked bin.

  “How do you…” I trail off.

  “Mr. Harris was my high school coach. I used to like to come practice at night and he gave me the codes so that I could turn on the lights and get the bases out. My siblings decided to tag along, and it sort of became a tradition. We still try to play out here at least a few times a year.”

  “Mayberry,” I mutter under my breath. Kent laughs.

  “Come on, kitten, you are up first,” he says to me as he hands me a helmet and a bat.

  “Wait, what?”

  He ushers me to a spot over a base.

  “Show me your swing,” he says, stepping away from me.

  Clark stands about twenty feet away from me with a ball in his hand.

  “My swing?” I squeak. Kent nods.

  “Yes, your swing. Swing the bat.”

  I put the bat out and swing it. It’s surprisingly heavy.

  Kent’s lips twitch with amusement. “Here, like this,” he says as he comes up behind me. He puts his front to my back and wraps his arms around me. It sounds ridiculous, but I suddenly feel very safe, like nothing could hurt me with this giant of a man wrapped around me. I try to focus on what Kent is saying but his cologne and his hard muscles make paying attention a Herculean task.

  “Got it?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  He chuckles and makes me do a few practice swings with his arms still around me. When he steps back, I miss his warmth.

  “Stand like this,” he says, as he crouches and holds his arms up as though he has a bat.

  I copy his stance.

  “Now swing like we just practiced.”

  I do.

  “Good, that’s really good, Tabby. You’re a natural.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Now when Clark throws the ball, keep your eye on it. Don’t look away, alright?”

  I nod and get ready.

  A ball comes flying and I swing. I hear a crack and I look around.

  “Run!” Di and Lanie say. I take off running where Kent is standing, motioning me to him. I literally run into his arms and he picks me up and twirls me around.

  “Great job, kitten! You just hit a single!” he says excitedly before putting me down.

  I grin. I have no idea what a single is, but OK.

  He leans down as though he has heard me and whispers, “A single means you made it to first base.”

  I snort out a laugh because the only “first base” that I know is not about baseball. He sees my face and immediately starts chuckling. “I see you are familiar with the other interpretation of the bases.”

  And there goes the color in my face again. I internally note if I’m gonna hang out with this guy, I may need to invest in some heavy foundation makeup.

  Kent

  I can’t get over Tabitha’s baseball skills. Her natural abilities are amazing. Her second time up, she almost gets a double. She gets out, but that’s only because she was jumping up and down instead of running. I need to warn her that she shouldn’t jump up and down in front of me because my eyes were transfixed to her breasts bouncing and that is not OK. Also, she was fucking adorable in her excitement. I smile with pride. She’s a fast study and naturally athletic.

  “Tabitha, let’s get you out in left field,” I say to her after everyone on her team has had a chance to hit. We don’t really play a formal game unless we have more people, but we can play with just the seven of us and we can be damn competitive about it. The Moores hate losing.

  She gives me a look that says she is not excited about being out in left field.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m more of a pitcher than a catcher,” she says.

  My inner thirteen-year-old can’t help laughing, and she gets it right away.

  “Oh, fuck off, Moore. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I think you look like the perfect catcher to me,” I say with a wink.

  She blushes yet again, and I have to lock down the urge to pick her up and kiss the fuck out of her.

  I show her how to catch and throw her a few practice balls. Again, she’s a natural.

  “Why didn’t you play sports? You’re really good,” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Honestly, when I was little, we didn’t have a lot of money. My poppop is old-fashioned and the little money they had went to my brother playing soccer, which he did get a scholarship for, so I suppose it panned out. Also, I might be a little stubborn, and after I was told no on being on a club team with a friend, I decided never to play or go to sporting events out of spite. So, yeah.”

  I chuckle at her answer. “So, the fact that you know nothing about sports is really your own fault.”

  She gives me a guilty look. “I suppose it is. Guilty.”

  I shake my head and walk off to center field. I let Kylie pitch because I want to rest my arm tonight.

  Di bunts and it heads toward Tabitha. She catches it, and I yell for her to throw it to Kylie. She does. Kylie has to run to catch it, but it’s not bad. We’ll need to work on her throwing skills another day.

  C-Dog is up next, and he gets under Kylie’s pitch and the ball flies toward Tabitha.

  “Keep your eye on it; you got this,” I yell to her.

  She does, and the ball goes into her mitt and then her mitt hits her face.

  “Fuck!” she yells as she leans over and puts a hand to her face.

  I run over to her. “You OK?”

  She shakes her head, and I kneel down to look at her face. She lifts it up and there is blood pouring out of her nose.

  “Player down,” I yell, which is Moore speak for someone got injured.

  Of course, Mothership is the first one by my side.

  “Let me see,” she says, looking at her.

  Tabitha lets her see as I rip the bottom of my shirt. My mom analyzes it and announces nothing is broken, but we should get ice on it and call it a night.

  I hand Tabby the rag, and she holds it to her nose.

  “That was quite a catch though,” I say with a wink.

  She laughs and then groans.

  “Come on, slugger, let’s get you home,” I say. I pause realizing that I just said home, but she doesn’t seem to notice, and I try to play it off as no big deal, but internally, I’m wondering why the hell did I say that?

  Thirty minutes later and with an ice pack on Tabitha’s nose, I pull into my driveway. I turn to her.

  “I have to be at practice at one tomorrow. You are more than welcome to stay here if you like or go back to the apartment. Just let me know.”

  “OK,” she says.

  “How’s the nose?”

  She pulls away the ice pack. Mom had gotten it to stop bleeding before we left.

  “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

  I lean in and look at it with a grimace.

  “You’re gonna have a nasty shiner in that right eye tomorrow.”

  She shrugs. “And you wonder why I never played sports.”

  I chuckle. “You did good, kitten. Real good.”

  “Why kitten?”

  I grin at her as I get out and she follows suit, her eyes never leaving me.

  “Because you are small and you are always moving, going, doing something.”

  “
I like to stay busy. It keeps my mind from wandering.”

  I want to ask what she means, but I see the tired look on her face, and I don’t feel right prying into her personal life.

  “Do you need anything before I hit the sack?” I ask as I let us inside my house.

  She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m good.”

  “Cool. Good night, Kitten.”

  “Night. And…thanks for today. It was…fun.”

  I turn and smile at her. Even with a swollen nose and a bruised eye, she’s still gorgeous. “It was my pleasure. It…” I stop short of saying what I’m thinking.

  “What?” she asks, her voice soft and encouraging.

  I look into her blueish-green eyes. “I needed that.”

  “Needed what, Kent?”

  “To be reminded of why I love baseball.”

  She cocks her head to one side. “Of course, you love it. I can see it in your eyes every time you showed me how to do something. It’s a part of you, of your soul. Kent?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for teaching me. It was really fun. And…you’re a good teacher.”

  My smile widens. “Thank you.”

  She nods before heading up to the guest suite.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tabitha

  My face feels like I hit a brick wall. I groan and roll over in the super comfy bed, like for real, this mattress must be made from clouds or something.

  I roll out of bed and see that it’s nine in the morning. I head downstairs and follow the smell of coffee.

  The kitchen, which is the size of a small palace, is empty of Kent but a machine on the side makes noise, and I see it’s a fancy coffee and cappuccino maker with a timer. It sits next to a single cup coffee maker. What doesn’t this guy have?

  I’m about to start looking through the expansive number of cabinets for a mug when Kent appears and holy fucking shit.

  He’s in gym shorts that ride low on his hips and running shoes, and that’s it. He’s dripping with sweat and his skin glistens in the light of the room. He looks like a mother fucking live version of the David statue.

  “Take a photo, it’ll last longer,” he says with a smirk and wink as he walks around me and opens a cabinet, pulling out two mugs and setting them on the counter.

  “I take it you used your gym already?” I state.

  “I take it, that’s rhetorical. And yes, just a quick run. You’re more than welcome to use it if you like.” I grin because I heard the Moores say “that’s rhetorical” a half dozen times yesterday.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like the gym type to you?”

  He looks up and down my body, and I suddenly feel self-conscious that I’m in a short pair of pajama bottoms and a thin tank top that probably reveals way too much. I cross my arms but not before I see his pupils dilate slightly.

  “You are naturally toned, but I bet you could build up your muscles if you worked out.”

  I shrug. “I run when I need to clear my head, but that’s it. Oh, and I sometimes go rock climbing and do yoga.”

  “Rock climbing?”

  I nod. “There’s a group I go with over at Great Falls.”

  He nods and I can tell he’s impressed by the look on his face. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “I can text you the deets. Maybe you can come some time.”

  “Sure. After season ends, and only if you promise I won’t die.”

  I laugh at his horrified expression.

  “Noted. No dying.”

  “So, do you want to stay here or go to the apartment?”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I’ll come back tonight. I don’t have another game until Tuesday, but this week is crucial for us. So, I’ll stay downtown until Friday and then if we win, shit gets crazy for a few weeks during playoffs and the World Series, I mean, if we get that far.”

  “Do you think you guys have a shot at it?”

  “I have a good feeling about our team. We’ve been jiving lately. We are in sync and that’s important, but anything can happen, that’s some of the fun of the sport, you know?”

  I give him a look that says, “I don’t know.”

  He laughs. “You’ll learn. You can’t be friends with me and not know my sport.”

  “I guess I’ll come with you today. I need to finish washing my clothes and stuff, but I’d like to come back here tonight. It’s…peaceful.”

  “Cool, bring a bathing suit. I’ll need a soak in the hot tub tonight.”

  I roll my eyes. “Why do you think I own a bathing suit?”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  I can’t help the giggle that escapes me. “Fine, I have like one bathing suit, in case my brother ever comes home, and we go to Assateague or something.”

  “I love going there. We used to camp there once in a while.”

  “Us, too. It was one vacation my grandparents could afford once a year.”

  He nods. “Well, I’m off to shower.”

  I try not to look down at his insanely well-defined abs as he sets his coffee down and walks out of the room.

  Fuck my life. Why do I have to punish myself? My mind momentarily drifts to my psycho ex-boyfriend. I have him blocked on my phone and now that my studio burned down, he has no idea where I am, which is a good thing. I sigh. My life always seems to be filled with drama. I’d love, just for once, if something was easy, anything at all.

  I go and grab a shower and change before meeting Kent downstairs. He grabs my overnight bag from me and hoists it over his shoulder. I grin at how ridiculous this giant man looks with a Hello Kitty backpack on his shoulder.

  “What? I have sisters,” he says to me as though he’s insulted that I gave him a look of skepticism about holding my super girly little kid bag.

  “Touché,” I reply as I let myself in his car.

  “So, your family is big with nicknames, I noticed,” I say as Kent is driving us back to the city.

  “Yep. Always has been. All my grandparents were big on them too, so I guess it’s just a family thing. What about your family?”

  I shrug. “My brother calls my Tabs sometimes and I call him Brix, but otherwise, not really. We aren’t as creative as you all.”

  “My parents are strange. My mom is a horror movie fanatic and my dad loves DC Comics, so needless to say, they compromised on our names.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m Kent Jason. Kent for Superman and Jason for the Friday the 13th movies. Lane Laurie, Lane for Lois Lane and Laurie from the Halloween movies, Diana Carol for Wonder Woman and Poltergeist, Kylie Marron for Cat Woman and Psycho, and Clark Michael from Superman and Halloween.”

  “Wow, your parents are too much. That’s sweet though that they wanted to have a theme for their kids' names.” I think about the fact that I have no idea why I’m Tabitha Lee or why Brix is Brixton Wallis. And we likely will never know.

  “Well, they are unique, that’s for sure.”

  “They are very different. How’d they meet?”

  Kent chuckles. “Yep. My parents met at Comic-Con.”

  “Say what?”

  Kent laughs some more. “My mom’s sorority sister wanted to go and talked my mom into going because some actor she liked was supposed to be there. Dad wanted to go because, well, he’s a giant nerd who loves comics. Mom got stuck in a bathroom and was pounding on the door and Dad heard her as he walked by and got the door unstuck and the rest is history.”

  “Cute.”

  “What about your parents?”

  I lower my head. “My dad…I don’t remember. And my mom, well, I was little when she died. I think they met through a friend.”

  Kent glances over at me.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

  I pat his hand that’s resting on the gear shift.

  “It’s OK. I’m used to it. Talking about families is normal. I just didn’t have a normal childhood is all.”

  Kent suddenly turns his ha
nd over and places mine on the gear shift, covering it with his and squeezing it. “I’m sorry about that, kitten. I am. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I can already tell that you are a good person. It really sucks that shitty things have happened to you, but I’m the kind of friend that always has your back, so if you ever need anything from here out, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

  I look into his eyes for a moment before he turns his head back to the road. “Thank you, Kent. I appreciate that.”

  I expect him to release my hand now that he’s pledged his loyalty to me, but he doesn’t let go of it, and I don’t pull it away. I like the feeling of his big, calloused hand covering mine. It’s comforting.

  We talk about nothing and everything as Kent drives us back. The time passes too fast and before I know it, we are standing in the apartment. “I’ll see you later. I should be back by dinnertime,” he says before he leaves me standing in the living room trying to decide what to do for the afternoon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Let’s eat at one of my favorite places,” Kent says as he helps me bring a few suitcases in from the car. He promised his washer and dryer at the house were much faster and we could use his shower to steam clean my suitcases, whatever that means.

  “OK,” I agree. I notice a sign for Columbia as he turns off onto a side street. We pop out at a little office building, and he parks the car.

  “Sushi?” I ask.

  “They have other Asian food too if you don’t like sushi, but I figured if you ate what Mr. Wu brought us the other day, you must be adventurous with your food.”

  I laugh. “I love sushi.”

  Kent gives me his arm as we exit the car, and I take it.

  “Kent!” a man says as I walk inside.

  “Doug, my man. What’s up?” Kent asks as he shakes his hand.

  “Same old. You want the sushi bar or a regular table?” he asks, eyeing me up.

  “We’ll take a table unless you want the bar?” he looks at me.

  “Whatever you normally do,” I reply.

  “Sushi bar?” Doug asks us. I nod and Kent smiles at me.

  “Sounds good,” he says to Doug who leads us over.