Julia London (10 page)

Parker cocked his head to one side with an expression that suggested he
hadn’t really thought of it before.

“Am I right?” Mrs. Frankel demanded.

“You’re right,”
he said, nodding thoughtfully, but then grinned at Kelly. “She’s definitely my lucky
charm.”

“Well God knows you needed one,” Mrs. Frankel said, wagging a finger at him.
“Don’t let her go, at least not until the season is over, and you better not let the
season end before October, mister. Now. Can I have my bat?”

Parker winced,
shook his head. “I think I better hang on to that until the end of the
season.”

Mrs. Frankel huffed about that but was all smiles when she shook Kelly’s
hand once more. “Oh, you’re so young and pretty,” she said admiringly and then walked on
down the street.

Kelly looked at Parker. “Her
bat
?”

“Long story,” he said. “Come on,
let’s eat some pie—Mrs. Frankel is ornery, but she makes a great pie.”

During the week,
when Parker was in town, they stayed at Kelly’s apartment in the city. But on weekends,
they spent lazy days at Parker’s palatial home, usually around the pool, talking about
life and the future. Kelly was still uncertain what would happen with ESPN—having
negotiated a deal, she was waiting for the muckety-mucks there to decide if they wanted to
send her for a pilot test. Parker liked to make Kelly practice for her ESPN on-air
audition poolside.

Wearing a bathrobe over her bikini, Kelly would
laughingly swipe up a banana and begin her spiel: “Parker Price has one hundred and ten
million reasons he might want to leave town if he doesn’t get a hit tomorrow night,” she’d
start, and with Parker good-naturedly hissing and booing, she’d go on to trash the
overpaid but very sexy short stop for the New York Mets.

Parker would laugh. “And don’t
forget,” he’d remind her, “that Parker Price lost his big toes in a tragic tree-climbing
accident, which makes him molasses-slow when running the bases.”

Kelly laughed.
“You’re such a good sport, Parker.”

“Nah,” he grinned. “If anyone else was doing that kind
of number on me, I would come out of my tree—
with
my toes. But with you? Never.
This is so much better than where we started, baby. I’m just not worried about any of that
anymore.”

“Worried?” she said, crawling on top of him as he lay stretched out on a
chaise longue. “Were you really worried?”

He smiled self-consciously. “I guess
a little,” he said, lifting his hands to her breasts and caressing them lightly. “I’ve
never had a slump like that, and I’ve never had any trouble with my glove.” He glanced up.
“But I found my lucky charm.”

“Stop, Parker. You know there is no such thing as a lucky
charm. I had nothing to do with your slump
or
your comeback. Remember what you said
one time? That you had ebbs and flows like anyone else?”

That caused him to burst out
laughing. “Did I really say that?” he asked, pulling Kelly down to kiss him. “What an
asshole!”

“I thought it was poetic.”

“You did?”

“Yes! It was
poetic in a jock sort of way.”

He laughed and nibbled her lower lip. “I hope we’re together
for a long time,” he said, kissing her cheek and the side of her mouth.

“You
do?”

“Yeah.” He put a hand to her face and pushed her hair out of the way. “You
know that I’m falling in love with you, Kelly.”

She knew. Just
as well as she knew that she was falling in love with him, too. She traced a line with her
finger across his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Damn sure. I’ve never felt this way
about a woman in my life. You make me happy . . . and I play so well with you in my life,”
he added with a grin.

“There was a time that you weren’t such a big fan of
mine.”

“That was before I knew you . . . but you weren’t exactly a fan, either,” he
said, stroking her cheek.

“That was before I knew what a fabulous ballplayer you
are.”

“Wow,” he said, his brows rising up. “That is
very
high praise coming
from you.”

Kelly laughed and traced another line across his lip. “You know I’m falling
in love with you, too, Priceman.”

“I know,” he whispered, and slipped a hand inside her
robe.

“Hey,” she said, curling her arms around his neck and glancing uneasily at
his house.

“Marie is off today and no one else is around,” he said, pausing to kiss her
throat. “Except maybe”—he kissed the top of one breast—“a couple of squirrels.” He moved
to the other breast. “But pay no attention to them—I pay them well to keep their mouths
shut.”

Well. If he was
paying
them. She sighed as he untied her bathing top
with his teeth and lowered her onto the chaise. His hand drifted down, sliding in between
her legs. “Tell me again what you’re going to say about me when you do your pilot
test.”

“That Parker Price is the sexiest guy in all of baseball.”

“That’s a great
start,” he said, and kissed her.

They made wild love on that chaise, crying out with
abandon, completely in sync with one another and their blossoming relationship. They spent
the entire weekend sequestered in his mansion, taking no phone calls, letting no one
in—except the delivery guy, of course, who kept them in food and booze and made a tidy
little sum in tips for his discretion.

They romped about Parker’s huge
house, talking about how many kids could live comfortably in that house, at how improbable
it was that they were actually together, talking about anything and
everything.

But when Sunday night came, their little retreat from the world ended when
Kelly headed back to the city. “I’m gonna miss you,” Parker said, wrapping her in a bear
hug before they walked out to the car. “We’re leaving for San Francisco tomorrow
morning.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Kelly sighed, and pushed his hair from his forehead.
“But it’s just a few days.”

“As long as I know you’ll be here when I get back Friday. What
if I swing by your place when we get in?”

“That would be great,” Kelly said,
rising up on her toes to kiss him once more. “I’ll make you something very
special.”

They left it that way, both reluctant to part, both eager to be together
again.

But in the middle of that week, while Parker was hitting balls out of the
park and performing a double play that one sportscaster said was an impossible feat, Kelly
got a call from Dan Brown at ESPN, who told her they wanted to fly her out to L.A. to get
a makeover fit for television and do some tests on a few segments.

Kelly’s heart
started to pound like a drum as he spoke. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said. “We’ll do a
pilot segment, and if everything goes well and it gets picked up, we’d put you on the air
right around October, in time for the World Series. So are you interested?”

Was he insane?
Was she
interested
? “Yes!” Kelly cried, pumping her fist. “Yes, yes,
yes
!”

Kelly was waiting for Parker when he
got in from San Francisco. Her apartment was swathed in candles, the tiny table had been
set for two, and a bottle of wine was open and airing.

Nice ambiance, but he didn’t need
it, because Kelly was wearing a little red halter-top dress that hugged all her curves,
and that was all the mood-setting he needed. He gathered her up in his arms, kissed her
hard as he swung her around, then put her down on her feet again. “Do you know how much I
missed you?” he asked, pushing her hair from her face.

“Well . . . I think the four
bazillion phones calls were a pretty good indication,” she said, and lifted her face to
kiss him. “Come on, I made spinach lasagna, and I found this great wine—”

He caught her
before she could slip away and kissed her again as his hands slid down her back to her
hips.

“Parker, come on.” Kelly laughed and playfully pushed him away. “The meal is
ready, and I want to tell you something.”

“So tell me,” he
murmured against her skin.

“No. I have to have your full, undivided
attention.”

“You’ve got my attention. Every fiber, every cell is focused on you,
baby.”

“Parker.”

He sighed,
dropped his hands from her body. “Okay. I’m here,” he said, his gaze still skimming her
body.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

“I’d love one,” he said, and walked
into the living room to give her a little space. He glanced around as she poured the wine.
“The place looks great,” he said, nodding at all the candles. “Very
romantic.”

“I hoped you would think so,” she said, handing him a glass of wine. “I want
this to be a very romantic evening,” she added as she sat on the couch. He followed her,
touched his glass to hers, and sipped.

“Sorry about that last game,” she
said softly.

Parker shrugged. “You win some, you lose some. It’ll all even out by the end
of the season. If we keep up the pace, we ought to be in the running for the pennant. If
not, someone ought to line us up and shoot us.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to
that
,” Kelly laughed.

He loved the sound of her laugh and smiled, admiring her. How
did he get so lucky? How did he end up with such a beautiful woman who wasn’t into him for
fame or money or any reason other than she wanted to be with him?

“You’ve got
Arizona next and St. Louis right after that,” she commented.

“Yep. Three days
in town and then we’re on the road for about ten days.” He didn’t want to even think of
it. Summer months were tough, constantly on a ball field somewhere, constantly away from
the people he loved, and now, away from Kelly. He couldn’t stand it some days. “Are you
okay with that?” he asked her. “The long absences?”

“Sure!” she said
brightly. “I know its part of the deal. And as a matter of fact . . .” She suddenly put
her wineglass aside and faced him. “I have some great news, Parker. It looks like I’m
going to be gone for a while, too.”

In spite of his chuckle, Parker felt the first pinprick
of trepidation. “How is it great news that you are going to be gone? Where are you
going?”

She was smiling so broadly and gripping her hands so tightly that he had the
impression she was fighting to keep from floating away. “Actually . . . I am going to
L.A.”

She waited a moment to see his reaction. But it took Parker a moment to
connect the dots, and even then, he could only blink.

“Parker! I am going to L.A. to be
tested for an ESPN talk show!” With a shriek of pure joy, she fell backward, her arms high
above her head.

“Oh, God,” he said, genuinely surprised and proud of her. “Kelly, that is
fantastic!” He set aside his wine, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up to kiss her. “That’s
awesome! I am so damn proud of you, baby.”

“
Thank
you,” she said,
beaming. “Parker, I am so excited I can hardly stand it. I can’t
wait
! I’m going to
be on ESPN with my own talk show! I mean, assuming everything goes all right and it tests
out okay and they like the segments I tape and I don’t come across as a big dork. Can you
believe it? I have dreamed of this for years!”

“Of course I can believe it. You’re
smart as hell and witty and gorgeous to boot. You’re the best,” he said, meaning it. “So
how long will you be gone?”

“Two or three weeks. Maybe longer. I’m not sure.”

Maybe
longer . . . that pinprick of panic was beginning to spread into a real fissure. Parker
was happy for Kelly, of course he was, terribly happy . . . but . . .
but she was his
lucky charm.

“I guess I should ask them exactly how long. Guido and the
producers of
Sports Day
decided I should just tell my listeners I’m going on
vacation and have a couple of rotating guest hosts sit in. That way, if ESPN doesn’t like
the show, or doesn’t pick it up for very long, I have a place to land. Isn’t that
nice
of them?” she chirped, and patted Parker on the chest before popping up off
the couch.

She went into the kitchen and started bustling around, gathering lasagna and
salad. “I know you must be hungry. I don’t know what to wear.”

“What?” he
asked, confused.

Kelly’s laugh was bright and vibrant and reverberated in the apartment. “The
two statements are not related,” she said, giggling. “I mean, I don’t know what to wear
for the tests. Should I go casual? Or formal? Maybe a hip look?”

“Yeah, that
sounds good,” he said, having no clue how a hip or casual look would differ. He got up and
walked into the kitchen to help her. “So . . . after you do this testing, you’re
definitely coming back, right?”

“Of course!’ she cried, and paused to put her hand to
his face and kiss him. “If I get the show, I will be taping in Connecticut. If I don’t, I
will be back in New York. Don’t worry, Parker. I’m definitely coming back,” she said
sweetly. “Come on. This lasagna has been sitting around too long.”