When the team headed out for the match, and having already been shooed away by all three Carters sisters, Sullivan watched the game next to Hayes. He missed the comradery, the energy from his teammates. He loved the game. Especially as he watched his team win from the sidelines.
By the time the crowds cleared and they made it back upstairs, Sullivan found Clara and her sisters looking exhausted, big smiles on their faces. Popcorn littered the cement floors, alongside spilled beer and plastic cups.
“I take it everything went well?” Sullivan asked, sidling up the booth they’d already begun dismantling.
“So well,” Clara said, finishing packing up a box.
“Crazy good,” Maisie agreed, as Hayes took over the box she was taping up.
“Oh, my gosh, I think I’m going to fall over,” said Amelia, sliding onto her butt in front of the booth.
Sullivan chuckled. It had been a long day. “What can I help with?” he asked.
Clara gestured to the dozen boxes. “All these need to go out.”
“On it.” Sullivan grabbed what he could, and in no time, the Three Chicks Brewery truck was packed up, and Hayes, Amelia, and Maisie were on the road driving back together. When Sullivan walked toward Clara’s car under the beams of the parking lot lights, he asked, “Want me to drive home?”
“Yes, please,” she breathed, handing him the keys from her pocket. “Everything on my body hurts right now.”
He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist for support. They’d worked hard tonight. Considering they weren’t bringing home any kegs meant they’d sold out.
Once inside the car, Sullivan fastened his seat belt as Clara said, “I don’t think you know what today did for us. For days now, I’ve been stressing if I had enough leverage to ask for more demands in our contracts.” She glanced his way, expression soft and warm. “Without any doubt in my mind, you got us that today. You did more than any distributor could do for us, and you did all that without asking for a thing.”
His chest expanded to its fullest as he spotted the Clara he had always loved in the depths of her eyes. Feeling like nothing lay between them, he said, “Whatever I can do to help you, Clara, I will.”
The lights from the dashboard lit up her face as her eyes searched his. “Why are you doing all this?”
Only the truth would keep them moving forward. “To gain your forgiveness. To earn your trust.”
Emotion filled her eyes as she leaned in closer then, the air heating up between them in the car. “You don’t have to keep doing these amazing things for me.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said then cupped her warm cheek, heat flooding his groin at her nearness. “Because you did amazing things for me too, including raising our son when I wasn’t well enough to.” He brushed the softness of her cheek, lost in the way she watched him so eagerly. “So, yes, Clara, I do need to do these things. It’s about time someone looked after you like you’ve looked after others.”
Her soft smile was his greatest reward.
Captivated by her, he dropped his mouth to hers, and he let himself enjoy the slow kiss, not allowing it to heat up, not building desire, simply giving them this moment. And there, in the sweetness of her embrace, he found something bigger than himself or his past; he found another purpose than baseball. Making Clara happy and taking care of her felt as good as any home run he’d ever hit out of the park.
When she leaned away, she said with a laugh, “I hope you don’t expect more than a kiss, because my body is not capable of even moving right now.”
He reached across her and fastened her seat belt. “I expect you to sleep while I get us home safe.”
“Thank goodness.” She yawned and shut her eyes but reached for his hand first, twining her delicate fingers with his.
Soon, they were on their way, leaving the city behind for the quiet country roads, and for the first time ever, he realized his suspension was the greatest thing to have ever have happened to him. Because it had brought him back to her.
10
“So, you have a son,” the chief stated, sitting across from Sullivan a week later in the hotspot restaurant in downtown, The Kitchen. The space was as fancy as any place in Boston with its wooden beams on the ceiling, dark stone on the walls, and sleek metal tables. Every table and booth was occupied, a telling sign the food was top-notch. The aroma in the air was a mix of freshly brewed coffee and perfectly cooked bacon, but the company was better. For the last half an hour, Sullivan had caught John up on the bar fight, the suspension, the reason he came home, and now, the most wonderful surprise of all, Mason. This great kid that radiated happiness and reminded Sullivan of his once-happy childhood.
“That must have been a surprise,” John stated when Sullivan finished.
“That’s putting it lightly,” Sullivan said, cutting into his over-easy egg with his fork. “But it’s a good surprise, and I think that surprises me most of all.” Years back, before everything went to shit, Sullivan had wanted to be a family man. A good father, unlike his own, but that dream had faded.
John studied Sullivan over the rim of his cup before he took a sip of his coffee. “I asked Hayes once if Mason was yours. He looks like your mother.”
Sullivan agreed with a nod. “He’s got her eyes.”
“Yup, that’s what I thought too.” John reached for his toast. “I take it Clara had a good reason to keep such a big secret.” He took a bite.