Homestands (Chicago Wind #1) Read Free Page B

dad?
    Mike glanced at her house. Maybe he belonged to the man.
    No, the kid had called her his mom.
    Maybe his stepmom?
    He tucked the card safely into the cup holder, remembering her panicked face when her eyes had met his. What had she thought about during the game? Did she wish they could try again? His years with Meg, despite their problems, had been the best of his life, and even though his career had soared after the divorce, he longed to go back to those happy days with her, back to that first year in the majors and even back to the minors.
    He snorted at the thought. “I am tired.”
    Silence answered him.
    It had been two weeks since Sara had left. Two very silent, silent weeks. His parents had asked about her when he’d had lunch with them in Anaheim during last week’s season opening road trip, and he’d told them they’d broken up during spring training. That she’d been gone by the time he got back.
    He hadn’t told his parents about Sara finding Meg, though. His marriage was still a touchy subject. After the divorce, a couple years had passed before he could look them in the eye without feeling like they were fuming.
    No way was he resurrecting that whole issue.
    Because Meg was probably with someone else. He was just here to… say hi. To make sure she was okay because she’d seemed upset, maybe, at the ballpark.
    We shouldn’t have—we need to go.
    What had she meant?
    He looked back at her house. Lights shone on each floor. Someone was home, probably Meg if she worked here.
    What about that man? What if he opened the door?
    “I’m Mike Connor,” he practiced. “Meg’s first husband. And you are?”
    The guy would punch him in the nose if Meg had told him anything.
    So he’d punch him back.
    He climbed out of his Range Rover, slammed the door, and started up the sidewalk. His heart beat faster, and he matched his stride to it until he reached her door.
    What would she do when she saw him?
    He pushed the doorbell and listened to its faint ring. Maybe he’d imagined she looked the same as he’d remembered. Maybe the sparkle in her green eyes had faded and she’d turned gray.
    What did that matter? He needed to see her, if only to say he was sorry and ask for forgiveness. Then he could tell the guilt goodbye and move on with life, wherever that took him.
    He lifted his hand to press the bell again, but the knob rattled. Mike squared his shoulders.
    The door swung open.
    Framed in the doorway Meg—his Meg—froze, her small smile slipping away. She wore jeans and a red sweater that gave color to her pale skin. Her long, wavy hair framed her face in dark gold layers, and her green eyes glazed as she stared at him.
    Despite her less-than-welcoming expression, she looked better then he’d remembered.
    He forced a smile, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hi.”
    Still she stared.
    “May I come in?”
    She blinked, did not move, did not speak.
    Gently he nudged the door farther open.
    She shifted out of its way.
    He doubted she knew she’d moved, but he’d take it as a yes. He stepped into a foyer, warm light reflecting off dark wood floors and subtle yellow walls. A wide staircase stood on the left, and a doorway on the right led to a living room done in some soothing orange color.
    He smiled. Only Meg could make orange soothing.
    Behind him the door clicked shut, and he turned to find her watching him, her face unreadable.
    “Sorry to drop in,” he said, “but I had to come by.”
    She said nothing, the silence blaring.
    “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.” He tried to joke. “You made me play awful.”
    “Oh.” She looked sideways at the stairs and then at his feet.
    He’d have to save the humor for later. “I hope this isn’t a bad time. If your husband or boyfriend is here and you want me to leave, I’ll go.”
    She looked up. “My husband?”
    “You’re not married?” Mike cleared his throat, fought to control his sudden smile. “I saw you with