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Strike (Gentry Generations #1) Page 25


  She pulled back and looked up at me. “Did I agree to move in with you, Dalton Tremaine?”

  I lifted her over my shoulder and flung the bathroom door open with a growl. “You’ll be agreeing to a lot more by the time I’m done with you.”

  She squealed as I tossed her on the unmade bed.

  “Hale’s going to think we’re sex addicts,” she giggled loudly as I got between her legs.

  “Hale already thinks that!” my brother shouted from the kitchen.

  I was hard and I seized her hips in my hands, teasing her. “Do you love me, Cami?”

  She gripped the covers with her fists, starting to buck underneath me. “Yes.”

  I teased her harder. “Do you want me to fuck you every day?”

  “Hell, yes.” She was gritting her teeth now.

  I pushed inside of her. “Will you stay here with me?”

  “Yes, Dalton. I will.”

  This time I made love to her slowly. And when we came together and she opened her brilliant green eyes it felt like there had never been a stronger connection between two people. This girl was it. She was my future.

  When I finally made it out to the kitchen Hale was sitting there reading The Art of War.

  “Is that my copy?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you need to expand your literary palette,” Hale said.

  “That’s what Cami says.”

  “All you have in that bookcase is this and about seventy books about baseball. Baseball biographies, baseball technique, baseball history, baseball and sex.”

  I snorted. “There are no books in there mixing baseball and sex.”

  Hale grinned. “Maybe there should be.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I visit Barnes and Noble.”

  He snapped his book shut and drained his coffee mug. “You do that. By the way, while you were pleasantly occupied this morning I went out and scored some donuts.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Call it a parting gesture.” Hale had been spending so much time in the Phoenix area that he decided to stop crashing in my spare room and get himself a place of his own.

  “Good morning!” Cami bounced into the kitchen wearing a light green knee length sundress, her thick hair in a ponytail. She looked so wholesome and pretty it was almost blinding. Sometimes I was still in awe of my luck, astonished that she was mine. That feeling was never stronger than it was this morning.

  Hale smiled at her. He liked Cami. The first time he met her he told me afterward that he couldn’t have dreamed up a better girl for me. Hale was ridiculously perceptive sometimes.

  “I guess it’s been a hell of a good morning for some people,” he said casually.

  Cami blushed and parked herself in my lap. “I’m not complaining.”

  Hale offered her the box of donuts. “No, the kind of noise you were making didn’t resemble a complaint at all.”

  Cami took a donut and made a face at him. “Why don’t you go find yourself a nice girl and see if you can give her a good morning?”

  Hale yawned. “I tend to take my good mornings and run before the sun comes up. Preferably right after she’s finished swallowing.”

  “TMI,” I complained as Cami fed me a bite of her donut.

  “TMI?” Hale scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me? After I was treated to audio porn all morning?”

  I fired a powdered donut at his head. It left a white sugar mark.

  Hale stood up and stretched. “What time is this ribbon cutting ceremony again?”

  I checked my phone. “Shit. One hour from now.”

  “You invite the old man?”

  “Naturally. The invitation was declined.”

  Hale stared at me. “His loss, man.”

  I didn’t want discuss my complicated relationship with Terry Tremaine today. “You want to ride over with us?”

  “Nah. I’ll take my bike. See you kids there.” Hale shuffled down the hall, hopefully to go clothe himself in something more complete than a pair of boxers.

  Cami poked me in the side. “You should get ready. You can’t be late for the opening day of your own ballpark.”

  “Youth training facility,” I corrected her.

  “It’s more than that,” she said and in a way she was right.

  Harold Fulton had come through big time, investing the lion’s share in the east valley property that we were calling Dream Fields. With the help of a variety of donors we were cutting the ribbon today that would herald the opening of the biggest youth baseball center in the western United States. We were planning on running programs year round with state-of-the-art facilities, complete with professional grade batting cages. And the place would be open to the public on the weekends so anyone who’s ever had a dream that they might play the game can have a chance, at least for one afternoon.

  I was stoked when I thought about what Dream Fields would mean in the lives of local kids. We were working on securing scholarship funds to ensure any talented kid would have the opportunity to attend.

  “Quite a crowd already,” Cami observed as I drove past the Dream Fields sign and found a place in the recently paved parking lot. Several news crews had already arrived. Since Harold Fulton was such a local celebrity anything he put his name next to would attract a lot of attention. The plan was that I’d give a quick speech welcoming today’s guests and then we’d cut the symbolic ribbon on the main field before giving everyone their first look at the facility.

  Harold was already standing out there in the sun, conducting an interview with a blonde reporter. The brawny former world class slugger offered me a quick wave and a grin before returning his attention to the reporter.

  The roar of a motorcycle at my back announced Hale’s arrival. He looked like he’d thrown on some dirty jeans and a t-shirt he’d found in a dumpster but when he climbed off his bike and headed nonchalantly for the bleachers I saw several women straighten up and stare after him with interest. Hale didn’t notice, or at least he pretended not to. His bearded face split into a wide grin when he saw me and Cami.

  “Look.” Cami nudged me and gestured toward the bleachers. Cami had mentioned that she’d invited her family but I figured she just meant her folks and her sisters and honestly, I would have been surprised if they’d shown up. But sitting there in the bleachers was the entire Gentry tribe. I saw Cami’s parents and sisters seated next to Chase and his boys. Surrounding them were the rest; the aunts and uncles and cousins I now knew by name thanks to holiday gatherings and get-togethers to celebrate birthdays, milestones, or for no reason at all. They were a close family. They all clapped and cheered when they saw us arrive and it was an even better feeling than stepping up to the plate in front of a full stadium.

  “I’ll be damned,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe they all came.”

  Cami beamed at the sight of all her relatives.

  “Family,” she said simply.

  If seeing every Gentry in the state in attendance wasn’t enough of a surprise, I quickly got another one.

  My dad was here.

  He was sitting alone at the top of the bleachers. I couldn’t read the expression beneath his hat and sunglasses but when he noticed me looking his way he offered a definitive thumbs up sign.

  Hale must have spotted him around the same time. I watched my prodigal brother make his way up to the top of the bleachers. I tried to remember how long it had been since I’d last seen my brother and my father in the same place. I couldn’t. They didn’t embrace in some Hollywood moment but they did shake hands and sit together as Harold beckoned to me to start the event.

  Cami squeezed my hand. “You ready for this?”

  “Almost.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and kissed her slowly, tenderly, not giving a damn who might be staring.

  I released her with reluctance, already planning to be back at her side as soon as possible.

  “Now I’m ready.”

  THE END

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