She tried to distract herself by watching the warm-ups. Carrie was loosening up, pitching to Harper. Usually Glenn would be hitting fly balls to the outfielders, but Glenn was missing in action too. Glenn never missed a game and was never late unless she and Flann were held up in the OR. A sliver of heat raced down Flann’s spine. Glenn and Abby were missing. Together.

No, that was just coincidence. Abby wasn’t a player, and Abby wouldn’t have kissed her the way she’d kissed her if she was interested in anyone else. Still, a little niggle of doubt ate at her. She didn’t want Abby kissing anyone else. But then how was Abby supposed to know that?

“God damn it.”

“You’re talking to yourself. You don’t want to scare the horses.”

Flann frowned at Harper, belatedly noticing Carrie had left the field to get some water. “There are no horses.”

“All the same.” Harper scanned the stands and grinned in Presley’s direction. “You’re not playing tonight, are you?”

“I thought maybe I could DH,” Flann said, “if things get tight later on.”

“Probably better if you give that leg a little more time to heal.”

“Geez, when did you start channeling Mama?”

“Abby’s admitting a patient with a rule-out MI, in case you were wondering,” Harper said casually.

Flann crossed her arms and pretended not to be relieved. “One of yours?”

“No, Lorraine Peterson’s. But I was seeing one of my patients in the ER when Lorraine’s patient came in. Abby’ll probably be along soon.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just thought you might want to know that. Seeing as how you’ve been glued to the stands for the last half hour.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh, okay.” Harper shrugged. “’Cause, you know, I thought the two of you had a thing.”

“Jesus, is everybody interested in my love life now?”

“Is there one?”

Flann stomped over to the bench and sorted through the equipment bag to find her glove. “I’m gonna catch fly balls for a while.”

“Don’t do much running.” Harper looked around as if to check who was nearby. They were alone. “Hold on.”

“What?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do any running at all, Flann.”

Flann tucked her glove under her arm. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Abby is special. So is Blake.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think what you don’t know is that you are too. Always have been.”

“For fuck sake,” Flann muttered. “Falling in love has really made you go soft.”

“And it’s just made you harder to live with,” Harper shot back.

“I’m not falling in love.”

“Aren’t you?” Harper’s brow raised. “Then you probably don’t care that Hank Anderson asked me if Abby was available. And he’s not the only one. Marsha—”

Flann growled. “Abby’s not available.”

“I didn’t think so. Maybe you should tell her that.” Harper grinned. “Don’t push that leg tonight. We’ve got a barn to raise tomorrow.”

Flann dropped onto the bench and scanned the bleachers one more time. No Abby. Hank Anderson was an ass, and Marsha Fitzroy was a player. She wondered how many other people were going to come sniffing around. God damn it. Abby was hers. Hers.

Glenn and Abby showed up together a few minutes before game time. Flann watched Abby climb into the stands and settle next to Presley. She looked at home, she looked perfect. The pain in Flann’s chest eased.

Glenn hustled over and grabbed the equipment bag, nodding to Flann. “Hey.”

“I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Glenn grabbed her glove and sat to lace up her spikes. “Abby and I were looking at a patient with a diabetic foot ulcer. I cleaned it up a little bit but didn’t think he needed to be admitted.”

“I didn’t get a consult.”

“Oh, I stopped by on my way out. Just to check.”

“You always stop in the ER before you leave at the end of the day?”

“Usually,” Glenn said, tying her shoe. “That way I can catch anything that might need to be seen later at night.” She straightened and glanced at Flann. “Cuts down on the calls for the night person.”

“Right,” Flann said, blowing out a breath. “I appreciate that. We all do.”

Glenn grinned. “Besides, I’m trying to get Abby to go out to dinner with me—”

“You might want to back off there.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Glenn said, a grin sliding free. “Just wanted to be sure, though.”

“You set me up for that,” Flann said in wonderment.

“Couldn’t help myself.” A rare spark of amusement flared in Glenn’s usually unreadable eyes.

“Damn,” Flann muttered. “You are a woman of hidden depths.”

“Not so much,” Glenn said. “You ready to play some ball?”

Flann grinned, checked the stands, and caught Abby’s eye. She waved, and Abby waved back. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Abby waved to Blake a few rows below her and settled next to Presley.

“Hi,” she said, opening a bottle of water, her attention riveted to the field. The game was about to start and Flann was pacing by her team’s bench, alternately watching the field and glancing over at Abby. “Not playing is driving her crazy.”

“Who?” Presley’s attention was riveted on Harper at second base.

“Flann. The other gorgeous Rivers sister. Hello, Presley.”

“Oh hey, Abby.” Presley smiled, sounding as if awakening from a daydream. “Oh!” Presley grabbed Abby’s hand and pointed to the woman beside her who sat with a toddler in her lap. “This is Carson—Flann’s sister.”

Abby straightened and leaned around Presley. Of course Carson was a Rivers sister. She was striking, just like the rest of them. With her ivory skin, clear green eyes, and lightly feathered auburn hair, she didn’t look much older than Margie. The toddler was probably a little over a year, his toothy smile and blue eyes filled with joy. She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Abby Remy.”

Carson smiled. “Great to meet you. I’m sorry I missed you until now. It’s been so crazy lately, with the storm and everything.”

“I know. I hope you didn’t get much damage.”

“Just a little on the roof and a lot of yard damage. We’ve been in cleanup mode, but nothing serious.” The baby chortled and Carson bounced him. “This would be Davey.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

Carson’s smile widened. “Thanks.”

Abby pointed to Blake. “The one next to Margie would be mine.”

“Margie introduced us. He’s gorgeous too.”

“Thanks.”

A cheer rose and Abby glanced over to watch the players take the field. Flann’s team was up to bat. Abby slowly relaxed in the early evening sun, the tension in her shoulders easing as she let the constant demands of the ER fade away. Flann had finally settled onto the bench, but it was clear being a spectator did not agree with her. She alternately yelled advice and silently muttered to herself. Every now and then she glanced Abby’s way and grinned, a grin Abby was certain anyone watching could read. Flann’s heated gaze spoke of sinful things, of dark kisses and secret caresses, and more. The more was becoming a disturbingly constant distraction, physically and mentally.

She’d slept fitfully the night before, and she couldn’t really blame it on the heat. Her windows had been open and a breeze had cooled her bare skin, but still she’d twisted and turned, her body blazing not from the summer air, but from the memory of Flann’s hands, her mouth, and the way Flann’s caresses made her ache. The arousal pulsing in her depths had kept her just on the brink of awakening, and when she’d finally given up on sleep and opened her eyes, she’d been swollen and heavy with urgency. Even her breasts had been tender and full. When she’d cupped her breast and caught her nipple between her thumb and fingers, the answering beat between her thighs had grown more insistent.

She could have come quickly if she’d wanted, but perversely, she hadn’t wanted to rush. She’d wanted to tease herself the way Flann’s kisses had teased her. Lying naked atop the sheets, she’d slowly stroked while recalling the heat in Flann’s eyes and the way Flann’s mouth had claimed hers and the possessive grip of her hands. She’d finally let herself orgasm when she couldn’t stand the pressure anymore, and Flann’s face had flickered before her eyes as her back arched and she bit down on a cry.

She smiled to herself now, imagining how much more potent the reality would be. When her gaze turned outward from the memory, she found Flann staring at her across the field, the look on her face one that suggested she knew exactly what Abby was thinking.

Abby pointedly looked away. Anyone watching them would see the desire. She’d already exposed her need to Flann, she could at least keep some dignity in public.

“They’re hard to resist, aren’t they,” Presley said.

“Is it that obvious?” Abby murmured.

“Only to someone who knows both of you,” Presley said with laughter in her voice. “Is it serious or just serious lust?”

“I’m not sure.” Abby pushed her hair off her neck in hopes the breeze would cool some of the heat in her face. “I’m serious about the lust, I mean. That’s very serious. Possibly terminal.”

Presley choked on her laugh.

“But the rest of it, I’m a little afraid to think about. Sometimes it feels too—”

“Big?” Presley finished.

“Yes.”

Presley nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. Wonderful and absolutely terrifying at the same time.”

“Yes.” Some of Abby’s uncertainty dissipated, knowing Presley understood. “Is that normal, do you think? Because I’m not usually reduced to words of one syllable just from looking at a woman.”

“I think so, when you love all the way.”

Love. Abby wasn’t sure. She understood love. She loved Blake with every atom of her being. She loved her mother. She loved her work. None of those things kept her awake at night or had her second-guessing every action. Only the fear of failing Blake frightened her, but not of loving him. Whatever she felt for Flann was different from all of those feelings. The want, the desire, the need left her open and vulnerable and raw. As if she might break. “I don’t know if I even want to know.”