Page 70 of Keeping Guard
Thinking that, a hazy memory hovered. He’d thought he was in the beginning of a nightmare during the night because he had a hazy memory of telling himself to wake up. But it had slipped away, so he must be thinking of some other night. Yet, he could almost hear her soothing voice, but he must be imagining that.
As he moved, slow and easy, she made a noise that made him think of a purring kitten. He decided it was his new favorite sound.
“Feels so good,” she sleepily murmured.
“Yeah, it does.” He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the moment. She was soft and warm, a haven for his troubled soul. “That’s it, baby,” he said when she clenched around him.
“Good. So good, Noah.”
It was, and as they climaxed together, he held this woman he could never have in his arms, committing everything about her to his memory. After he was gone, there would be sleepless nights when he would relive his time with her, and he wanted to remember everything.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Strike!” the umpire exclaimed.
Jack slung the bat over his shoulder and turned to glare at the umpire, disbelief on his face. “Dudette, you need glasses. That was so not a strike.”
Peyton laughed when the umpire got in his face, and the two of them argued over the call. “She’s a riot.” Nichole’s friend, Rachel Denning, visiting from California, was the umpire. She was also a stunt double, and that was just crazy cool.
“I love her.” Nichole cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, ump. Don’t put up with his crap. Eject him from the game.”
“Hush, woman.” Jack scowled at his girlfriend. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
The guys, Noah, Jack, Clint, and Nichole’s brother, Mark, were playing ball—Noah and Clint against Jack and Mark. Jack’s friend, Deke, was the designated pitcher. Apparently, he had a bad knee, hurt when he was in the military, and didn’t want to risk messing it up by running the bases.
The four dogs, Dakota, Rambo, Maggie May, and Lucky, were in the middle of it all, stealing the ball whenever they could snatch it. Dakota was the only one who brought it back to Jack. The other three had to be chased down.
“Strike three,” Rachel yelled, poking Jack in the chest.
“What? That was only strike two.”
She smirked. “Strike three is for arguing with the official.”
“What? You can’t do that.” He put his hands on his hips and turned his glare on Nichole. “Tell your friend, the one that also used to be my friend, that baseball is sacred. She can’t make up new rules.”
“Sure, babe. Rach, baseball’s sacred, so apparently you’re not supposed to mess with the rules, but I say go for it.”
Noah jogged up. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I thought I taught you better, son. Never face off against two women. You’re not gonna win.”
“You’re just trying to butter up the ump so she won’t call your balls strikes,” Jack said.
“Is it working, ump?” He winked at Rachel.
“Let’s play ball, people,” Clint yelled from centerfield.
Peyton, sitting in a lawn chair on the sidelines with Nichole and Deke’s wife, Heather, marveled at the difference from last night’s Noah to today’s. He was actually laughing and joking around with everyone. It was a beautiful thing to see.
Speaking of beautiful, her gaze roamed over the guys. “Man, they’re hot. Every single one of them.” Even Nichole’s brother, a good five or six years younger than the rest of them, was a cutie.
“Amen, sister.” Nichole held up her hand for a high five.
Peyton slapped her palm against Nichole’s. “Not to start a who’s the hottest debate, but my vote’s on Noah.”
“Puh-lease.” Nichole rolled her eyes. “Your hottie’s hot, but my Jack would win.”
“You’re both delusional,” Heather said. “It’s Deke hands down.”
“Says you,” Peyton and Nichole said together, then grinned at each other.
