Dare to Kiss (The Maxwell Series Book 1) (15 page)

“Your homework for tonight,” Mr. Dobson said. “Write a short essay on one of the five stages we discussed.”

Tearing my gaze away from Kade, I shifted my attention to the board. As soon as Mr. Dobson finished writing the bell signaled the end of class. I said a quick good-bye to Becca and bolted out. I wanted to get to practice. The ball field was a place for me to lose myself and forget my problems. But first I had a meeting with Coach Dean.

Stopping outside Coach’s door, I steeled my shoulders before rapping my knuckles against it.

“Enter,” his voice boomed from the other side.

I twisted the doorknob and stepped in. A blast of hot air hit me along with a stale smell. For the briefest of seconds the scent reminded me of that ill-fated night, and I repressed a shiver. A coach’s sweaty office was the norm. Wasn’t it?

“Sit, Lacey,” Coach said as he banged on his keyboard.

Blowing out a few puffs of air from my nose to get rid of the smell, I did as I was told. The fierceness in his brown eyes and the way he seemed to look through me intimidated me. It was just like when I’d interrupted his meeting that first time we met. He’d risen from his chair, bushy eyebrows pinched together, a scowl on his face, and marched toward me like he was going to stomp on a cockroach. I wished I’d been a roach that day. It would’ve been better than him humiliating me in front of Tyler and the football coach.

Today, however, he didn’t have a scowl. Still, I regarded him with caution. Something was up. He was rubbing his chin, deep in thought as he studied his computer screen.

Swallowing, I gave his office a once-over. I’d only been in here a couple of times and never had the chance to check out the cool photos he had hanging on the wall. There were four large framed pictures of major league ballplayers that he’d coached when they were in high school.

His computer beeped, then he grunted.

I’d just started admiring his trophy cabinet when he cleared his throat. I shifted my attention to him as he swiveled the monitor toward me. A screenshot of my elbow meeting Tammy Reese’s face was displayed on the screen.

Holy cow! I just knew it would come back to bite me in the ass
.

“Do you want to tell me what this was all about?”

Why did he care
? Scratch that. I knew why. Before Dad and I decided on this school, Dad had a long conversation with Coach Dean on what it would take to be a member of the ball team. One of his requirements was that all players had to respect others on and off the field, which meant no fighting. More importantly, the selection process involved many factors from how well I played to my attitude, stamina, and interaction with others.

Sitting up straighter in my seat, I blew out a breath, examining the picture. Tammy’s eyes were wide. Her face was a thousand shades of red.

“It was an accident, Coach,” I said.

“Accident?” His tone deepened as he scrubbed a hand over his balding head.

The hackles on my neck went up. I was close to becoming that cockroach. “With all due respect, Coach, why am I here? I haven’t made the team yet.”

He chewed on the side of his cheek. “Lacey, do you know how good you are?” He gentled his voice somewhat.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen the video footage that Crestview sent me.”

“Those are old tapes. I’m not quite back to my old self yet.” I fidgeted as I said the last sentence. I desperately wanted to go back in time.

Coach knew I’d had to take time off for family reasons. Dad hadn’t told him much about our background. Coach didn’t want to know, anyway. He’d told Dad that our personal business was our own—that was one of the reasons I respected Coach.

“If you’re as good as you are in those tapes, then you better get your crap in order. I don’t want to see you in any trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well, you’re dismissed.”

Was that it?
Get out of here before he thinks of something else, Stupid-head.

Listening to my crazy inner voice, I grabbed the arm of the chair then stopped. Maybe this was the person to ask about Mandy Shear. No one would tell me about her, and if anyone knew her it was Coach. After all, she played for him. “Um…Coach?”

He looked up from the computer screen.

“What happened to Mandy Shear?”

He leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing me with his brown eyes. “I’ve been waiting for that question.”

My eyes widened.

“We don’t like to talk about Mandy around school.” He glanced at a photo of him and a ballplayer holding up a trophy before looking back at me. “Mandy was good. She played right field two years ago. The girl had a hell of an arm. She threw the ball from deep right to home plate without any effort. With her and the Maxwell brothers, the team was unstoppable.” He let out a breath. “We won state that year. Then”—he paused, his fingers resting on his chin— “two weeks later, Mandy died in a motorcycle accident.”

“An accident? So why won’t anyone talk about it?”

“Ah,” he said, propping his elbows on his desk. “Some speculate it wasn’t an accident. There were some tense rivalries between a few of the ballplayers. Anyway, the police never found evidence to support it being anything other than an accident.”

“Principal Sanders told me the boys on the team treated Mandy badly. Is that true?” Given my run-in with Aaron this morning, I had an inkling that he was one of the boys.

“She had to have a few words with a couple of boys on the team, but Mandy was protected by the Maxwell brothers.”

“What do you mean?” I knitted my brows.

“Lacey, it’s in the past.” He turned his monitor to face him.

I got that. But they protected her how? Suddenly Aaron’s threats dominated my thoughts. Did Aaron have anything to do with tormenting Mandy? Then another question popped up. “So why after two years is the school allowing girls to try out, much less play again?”

“Why all the questions?” He picked up a pen.

“If you were in my shoes, would you want to know?”

He studied me for a second. “Since you put it that way… There are no secrets here. After Mandy’s death, no girls signed up to try out. They were spooked by the rumors and strongly discouraged by their parents and the school board. We were under a lot of scrutiny by the media when rumors started that a couple of the ball players were responsible for her death. Of course, that wasn’t the case. The whole incident put us under a microscope.”

“Are there any other girls trying out?” I’d been so busy practicing I didn’t even think to ask.

“One other girl, Renee Spellman.” He clicked the pen a few times.

She’s not Julie. She’s not Julie.
“What position does she play?” My stomach churned with nerves. At least Julie hadn’t played baseball.

Okay, I somehow had to get over the fact that this girl reminded me of Julie
.
But how? Maybe God was trying to test me. Or maybe this was God’s way of helping me to heal.
You loved Julie. Think of all the good times you had. Don’t think of how you found her covered in blood.

Ha! How was I going to do that?

He set down the pen. “She’s a left fielder.”

At this point, I wasn’t concerned so much about who was competing for a pitching position. I had to get my PTSD under control or else I wouldn’t be pitching, period.

I stood. “Um…one more question?”

“What is it?”

“Why was Mandy protected by the Maxwell brothers?”

“I know they’ve been practicing with you. Maybe you should ask them that question.”

Chapter 12

A
fter I left Coach’s office, I stopped at the girls’ locker room and quickly changed. Then with my bag over my shoulder and my glove in hand, I headed out to the ball field through the tunnel that led out to right field. Once I stepped onto the dirt track, the scent of grass penetrated my nostrils, clearing my mind and the rough edges of my nerves. Kross and Tyler were talking at home plate. I jogged up to the dugout, set down my bag then joined the boys who were deep in conversation.

Tyler had his back to me. “Make sure she works on her slider,” he said to Kross.

Kross ran his hand through his short black hair, and his blue eyes sparkled as he blinked.

“Are you guys talking about me?” I asked.

Tyler turned, smiling as though we hadn’t fought this morning. “Yeah. Sorry, Lacey. I have a football meeting. I should’ve told you earlier.”

“It’s okay.” I might be mad at him for trying to play big brother, but I certainly wasn’t going to be mad because he couldn’t help me practice. Football was important to him, and it should come first. Of all people, I knew that, since I was standing on the field of my passion.

“I’ll be back to take you home.” Tyler started to walk away.

“Actually,” Kross piped in, bending down to retrieve his glove and ball cap from his bag. “Kade wanted me to tell you that your car is ready. If you want to pick it up you can ride home with me. If not, I can drop you off at your house.”

Tyler lost the smile on his face as though the mention of Kade’s name was a knife stabbing him.
What was it with him
? I told him I wanted be friends
. Was he ever going to accept that
?

“I’ll get a ride home with Kross.”

Tyler pivoted on his heel and stalked off the field.

“I thought Kelton was supposed to be here.” I rolled my right shoulder back a few times. The soreness was still there.

“He had to get new cleats before tryouts tomorrow. Let’s see what you got, Lacey Robinson,” he said as he covered his head with his ball cap, the bill facing backwards.

I trotted out to the mound, taking a deep breath, then released it along with all thoughts of Tyler and everything else in my life. My sole focus right now was to perfect my pitches.

When I turned, Kross was crouched down into a catcher’s position, ready to go.

I stepped up to the rubber and threw a few balls to loosen up. After a handful of easy throws, I started with my fastball that thudded into Kross’s mitt.

“Not fast enough, Lace. Relax,” he said, throwing the ball back.

I bent my neck to the left then to the right, walked around the mound.

“Find your zone,” my brother had always told me. “Tune everything out and your zone will emerge.”

I hadn’t been in my zone since the last game in my sophomore year. I desperately needed to find it if I was going to make the team. Stepping up on the rubber again, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out. Each time, I visualized every move from my wind-up to my delivery. I opened my eyes, looked down at Kross, glanced over my shoulder at first base like I had a runner on, wound up, and threw a curveball.

“Good,” Kross shot back. “Again.”

I threw several more pitches, each one getting better. I practiced my fastball, curveball, and even my slider. After about thirty minutes, Kross retrieved a bat from his bag near the backstop, then planted his feet into the batter’s box.

“Let me hit a few before we call it quits,” he said, throwing me a ball.

I pitched. He hit or he missed. In all, the ball connected with the bat seven out of twenty pitches. I did a mental jig. It would’ve been nice to gloat about it if it were Kelton. But Kross was nothing like Kelton. No sarcasm. No sexual innuendo. Not even a word about Kade. Which, by the way, I appreciated. I didn’t want any distractions.

Once we had all the balls back in the five-gallon bucket, Kross and I scooped up our bags and headed for his car. The sun dipped lower in the sky. We still had a few hours before night fell.

“So, do you want to go home, or my house to get your car?” he asked, his six-foot frame making long strides.

I did need my car. I had no desire to call Tyler to pick me up tomorrow. I couldn’t rely on Becca unless I called her tonight to give her ample notice. I didn’t want to bug my dad. Mary still had no car. If she needed to go out, she used Dad’s for errands.

“It’s not that hard a question, Lacey.”

Yeah, it was. Would Kade be there
?

“Kade isn’t going to bite,” Kross added as we arrived at his red Jeep Wrangler.

I might, though
.

He grinned. I noticed he had one dimple on his right cheek.

Wow, did I say that out loud? “My car.”

“That wasn’t so hard.” He set down the bucket of balls in the trunk area.

It kind of was. We both changed out of our cleats. He donned a pair of Nikes. I slipped on my flats. We threw our bags in the back and hopped in.

“Do you mind if I make a quick stop?” He inserted the key into the ignition. “I have to drop off a gun at the club to get it serviced.” He turned the key, and the engine started.

“As in the Ashford Gun Club?”

He nodded as he shifted into gear.

“Are you a member?”

The Jeep jerked every time he shifted gears. “Yeah, we all are. My dad and my brothers.”

How come Kade hadn’t told me? I’d mentioned to him that Dad and I were members. “How come I haven’t seen you guys at the club?” I would’ve noticed these boys for sure.

“You belong?” Stubble dotted his angular jaw.

“You mean Kade hasn’t told you? Don’t answer that.” Not that my membership at the gun club was a secret. But I had one secret I didn’t want anyone to know, and I still didn’t know if Kade had told them about my panic attacks.

The passing landscape whizzed by even through the side streets of Ashford. Kross drove aggressively. My body jerked several times when he went around corners, and an uneasy feeling settled within me.

“So, Kross—why were you guys protecting Mandy Shear?” I figured this would be a great time to ask one of the sources since we weren’t on school grounds.

He slowed behind a car that was turning into a driveway. “Who told you that?” His head jerked toward me as he gave the Jeep some gas.

“Coach Dean. What did he mean?”

“She was dating Kody.” He shifted, his biceps flexing. “We’re protective of our friends, Lacey, especially ones who are more than friends.”

“Oh.” I hugged myself as tears stung my eyes. Kody had lost his girlfriend.
Was her death the reason why he was seeing Dr. Davis
?

“You all right?” Kross asked, his voice sounding faraway.

“Yep.”
Nope
. I felt for Kody as I tried to keep the tears from spilling over. Death of a loved one sucked.

I didn’t have too long to mourn before Kross slammed on the brakes as he pulled up in front of the weathered, one-story wood building. The Ashford Rod and Gun Club had a high A-frame pitched roof. The place reminded me of the Los Angeles Country Club that we’d belonged to in LA—both offered space for weddings and other events, and had a members’ lounge and a restaurant.

Several cars were parked in the lot. I wasn’t surprised. The place was always busy as it had a youth program, several gun and archery leagues, and both an indoor and an outdoor shooting range. A group of men were gathering their gun cases and supplies from a trunk while a young lady scurried past them, tying her apron behind her. She was probably late for her shift.

Kross turned off the engine. “I should only be a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll grab a drink in the restaurant.” Or maybe try to find my stomach, which I’d left on the road somewhere.

We climbed out. Kross retrieved a small metal box from his trunk.

“What kind of gun?” I asked as we headed for the entrance.

“Glock. It hasn’t been serviced in a long time. We have a competition coming up in another month.” He held the door open for me.

“You’re in a league here?” I asked over my shoulder as I walked in.

“Yeah, Kody, Kelton and Kade too,” he said like I was supposed to know this. “You should join a league.”

Dad and I had checked into a league, but I was still learning. Maybe after tryouts I would consider it.

I banked left into the restaurant as Kross continued down the hall to the shooting range. A heavy dose of grease permeated the air. My stomach growled.

“Hey, darlin’,” Jackie said as she came up to the hostess’s podium. “Are you here all by yourself?” Her reddish-blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She worked on Sundays too, when Dad and I came in for breakfast before hitting the range.

“No. I’m waiting for a friend. He had to drop off his gun at the range. Can I get a Coke?”

“Come on. Sit at the bar.”

The restaurant was set up with booths along the left and back wall of windows, square tables and chairs over the middle of the room, and a mahogany bar at an angle on the right as I walked in. Aside from a couple of men sitting in the corner booth, the place was empty. It wasn’t quite dinnertime yet.

I followed Jackie over and sat in a bar chair.

“Pete, can you get Lacey a Coke?” Pete was a tall man, dark haired with streaks of gray throughout. “So who’s the ‘he’ you’re here with?”

“Kross Maxwell.”

“Ah, one of the triplets.” She sighed. “If only I were younger.” I’d guess Jackie was in her thirties. Her bronze eyes flickered with excitement.

Pete placed a glass of soda in front of me.

“You know the Maxwells?” I asked, taking a swig of soda.

“Lacey, when you work here as long as I do, you know everyone.” She picked up a knife and started cutting lemons and limes on a small wooden cutting board.

“How well do you know them?” I felt like a detective today, after asking Coach and Kross questions. It wasn’t exactly the get-to-know-you game Dr. Davis wanted me to play.

She laughed. “Which one do you like?”

I shook my head. “None of them.”

“Lacey, are you telling me you don’t like
any
of them?” She stopped cutting the fruit, a disbelieving look on her face.

Heat pinched my cheeks.
Was I that obvious
? “I might like Kade,” I said, my voice low.

“The mature one.” Her bronze eyes lit up as if I said the right answer. “Also the one who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

“What do you mean?” I tore apart a napkin.

“There’s a ton of anger and sadness brewing in him. I can see it in his eyes.”

“Why the sadness?” I agreed Kade carried some anger, which probably stemmed from Greg Sullivan. He also had regret written over his face today when he apologized to me.

“According to his dad, Kade closed himself off after the accident.”

“Huh?” I sat back in my chair. Was she talking about Mandy? But Mandy had been Kody’s girlfriend.
If anyone carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, that would be Kody.

“Not my story to tell, darlin’.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Kross talking to an old, bald-headed man. “I should go. How much do I owe for the soda?” I’d forgotten my purse in the car.

“It’s on the house,” Jackie said.

I thanked her then went out to meet Kross. The old man he’d been talking to patted him on the back before disappearing into the club. We walked in silence to his Jeep. I wanted to ask Kross about what Jackie had mentioned, but I didn’t know how without sounding like a nosy person. I didn’t like when people pried into
my
life.

“Is something bothering you?” Kross asked as we got in the Jeep.

Lots of things.
“No.”

Anything I had on my mind quickly vanished as Kross drove like a maniac to his house. By the time we parked in front of his garage, I wanted to puke. “Drive much?” My stomach fell out the window somewhere between the club and there.

His lone dimple emerged as he grinned.
Asshat
.

I clicked off my seatbelt as Kross hightailed it out of the Jeep. I thought he took off until he opened my door. “Sorry, Lacey. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He held out his hand.

I laughed. “I’m not sure I can walk.”

“Do I have to carry you?”

God, no
. I took his offered hand and slowly put two feet on the ground. When I did, the world tilted. “Can I use your bathroom?” I needed to collect myself before I got back on the road.

I held onto Kross as we made our way toward the deck. As the world around me righted itself, I glanced back. The only car in the driveway was his.
Kade’s truck could be parked in the garage
. It didn’t matter. I desperately needed to use the bathroom, and I had a feeling I wasn’t getting my car without seeing Kade. Letting go of Kross, I climbed the steps to the deck. He slid the glass door to the left and a sweet smell of chocolate floated out. Was their mother home? Intrigue drew me into the kitchen. The room was empty save for a cookie sheet on the stove.

Kross followed me in, closing the door. “Kody likes to bake,” he said, answering the question I had been about to ask.
What was it with Kross answering my thoughts
? “Take a left out of the kitchen and the guest bathroom is down the hall on the right.”

Skirting the kitchen island, I went down the hall, following Kross’s instructions, and locked the bathroom door behind me. I stood there for a moment, glancing at myself in the large oval mirror that hung over the sink and almost gasped. My skin was ashen, thanks to Kross’s driving. Strands of hair stuck out from my ponytail, and a sheen of sweat coated my neck—not to mention that I looked like a ragamuffin with my T-shirt dirty from me wiping my hands on it at the ball field. I splashed water on my face and patted it dry with a small brown hand towel, then I pulled out my ponytail and combed my fingers through my hair.

“Okay, now get out of here, and go home,” I said to myself in the mirror. Following my own instructions, I unlocked the door and went back the way I came.

I’d only taken three steps when Kade’s familiar, thigh-squeezing voice said, from behind me, “Lace?”