Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Copyright Notice

  About the Author

  Other Books by Caridad

  Chapter One

  Eric Mendoza passed his fingers over the cold, glossy paper of the photo, imagining instead that it was the warm, silken feel of Yvonne's skin. He closed his eyes, pictured the creaminess of it. The pale milky smoothness of her breasts and the taste of her against his lips. The soft sounds of her passion as he brought her to the edge.

  He cursed beneath his breath and opened his eyes. He had almost crumpled the paper in his hands with his musings. He smoothed it out on the surface of his table and examined it yet again, almost as if to torture himself.

  Yvonne was wearing nothing but the pants of her team's basketball uniform, riding low on her shapely hips. The curve of her waist was clear, as was her navel and the small beauty mark beside it. The view of her lean, sculpted midsection was interrupted by her arms, which cradled a bright orange basketball that also hid her breasts, but just barely. The full globes of them were visible behind the basketball.

  Her hands hung loosely before her. Beautiful hands with long fingers, which sported only one ring – the small gold pinky ring given to her by her abuelita for her fifteenth birthday. The only sign of her wedding ring was a barely discernible line on her ring finger, but that would fade with time, or maybe it was only him imagining that he saw some visible remnant of their marriage. After all, they had been divorced for nearly two years now.

  In fact, he hadn't seen Yvonne in over a year, since shortly after their divorce. The last time they had run into one another had been in passing in the corridor of one of the local television stations. She had been headed out, apparently after doing an interview, and he had been on his way in.

  Yvonne had given him a curt smile, nodded, and kept on walking. He'd had too much pride to chase after her, just like he'd had too much pride to acknowledge that maybe the reason for the end of their marriage had been his mistakes. His failure to keep his promises to his young wife.

  Eric sighed heavily and leaned into the hard-backed chair, wondering how something that had started so right could have ended so wrong. They had been attracted to each other from the moment they had first met. Yvonne had been too young, just eighteen, and on her way to college.

  He had been twenty-four and a hotshot Rookie of the Year who had been invited back to speak at his old high school's annual sports award dinner. After giving his speech, he had presented the trophies to the top male and female athletes, never expecting to be immediately intrigued by the attractive young girl who had won.

  Yvonne had excelled at several sports, but her prowess at basketball had earned her multiple awards as well as a full scholarship to college. As impressive as that was on paper, it hadn't been nearly as inspiring as the sight of her and the calm, elegant poise she exhibited as she came up to accept the honor.

  Eric had stepped behind her and admired the sleek lines of her strong body. The very feminine voice that wrapped itself around him and drew him in as she gave her acceptance speech.

  After the dinner, people mingled in the school gym and flocked around the various recipients. No one had to tell him where Yvonne was. She'd had the largest crowd gathered around her, including several reporters from the local papers and sports shows.

  He'd always scoffed at those scenes in the movies where couples spot each other across a crowded room, and everything else around them blurred into nothingness. He'd thought them the whimsical stylings of the cinema . . . until it had happened to him with Yvonne.

  In that crowded gym, with dozens of people talking and milling about, she'd looked up and caught his eye, and the world had dropped away until it was just the two of them.

  Eric had walked up to her, excusing himself as he brushed past her many admirers and the well-wishers waiting to congratulate her. Smiling as he realized she had finished with the reporter interviewing her and taken a step toward him.

  "Hola," she had said, and with that one word, he knew she was the one meant for him.

  He had introduced himself, although he'd needed no introduction. He was a hometown hero and yet.... Eric sensed none of that had mattered to her, even back then.

  They talked for only a few minutes, aware that others were around, and that this night wasn't meant to be just theirs. When her parents came by to drag her away, he'd said goodbye and promised to call.

  Her father had glared at him and taken her arm, urging her away, but not before she had whispered in her low, wistful voice, "I'd like that."

  Eric had gotten her number from one of the coaches after the older man dragged assurances from him that everything was on the up and up, and Eric's intentions were good. Yvonne seemed to inspire that kind of loyalty in people. In all the years they had spent together, Yvonne had always brought out the best in the people around them. It was just the way she was, with a natural charm and class few had.

  He'd called her a few days after the dinner. She was delighted, but it was clear her parents were dismayed. Aware that there were issues, after all, he was six years her senior, he had made a point of being on his best behavior, calling on her at her home and speaking to both her parents at length before they left for their date.

  Eric had brought her home at a respectable time as well, delivering her inside to the watchful eyes of her parents, who had stood by and waited as he gave her a chaste kiss.

  It would be, but the first of many such dates that summer of her high school graduation. He'd been playing with a Boston team then and visited her when he could, falling in love with her more each time. By the end of the summer, they were committed to each other emotionally, and he wanted to acknowledge that to the rest of the world.

  Well aware of her strict Cuban upbringing and how his own Mexican American parents felt about the men who were dating their daughters, he'd first approached her father to ask for her hand in marriage. He'd expected resistance and concern. He'd gotten animosity and hostility as well, and a firm but polite, "There was no way in Hell their daughter would be allowed to marry him." Just as politely, he'd offered his apologies in advance for asking her anyway.

  Yvonne had been surprised on all counts. First, by asking her and second, by learning of her father's refusal. Eric had never seen her angry before, but her rage erupted that day at her father's uptight and antiquated ways. She'd been magnificent in her anger and defense of him, exhibiting a passion he'd only seen hints of before. A passion he looked forward to tasting in other ways, once she was older. Despite what her father might have thought of him, he wanted only the best for Yvonne, and being a patient man, he had been willing to wait.

  Because of that, and because he understood the importance of family, he'd tempered his own anger and disappointment, acknowledging that many of her father's concerns were valid ones. He wanted Yvonne to go to college and experience what she could before making a final decision about a life with him.

  His patience and understanding spanned the next four years Yvonne was in school. They found ways of spending time together in between spring training, his games, and her games. His one regret was that their sports always seemed to conflict time-wise. The first time her team made it to the National championship, when Yvonne had been a sophomore, he had been on a plane to the West Coast for a game since March Madness unfortunately coincided with the start of the regular season.

  Understanding the importance of the game to her, since they had talked at length about her plans to coach and play after she graduated, he made it a point to be there for her the second time she made it to the championships. He was glad he had, for her team had won and Yvonne had been picked the MVP. He knew it had been her moment. The equivalent of his winning the World Series, and he had reveled in her happiness. Fame was fleeting, and the win signaled the end of a special time for her, unless, of course, she went to play in a women's basketball league.

  He understood the bittersweet moment, aware that one day his time would come as well, and hoping that he could be as successful as Yvonne at attaining her dreams.

  In the magic of that night, they had become lovers, and after graduation, he had once again formally proposed. She had accepted, knowing full well what they both wanted out of life.

  He'd made her promises back then. Promises about how long he would play the game and when they would have kids. Things that regular couples talked about, only in their case, it was different, since their careers had biological time clocks, since neither of them could play indefinitely.

  And breaking those promises had resulted in the end of what had otherwise been an amazing and fulfilling relationship. A less liberated man would blame Yvonne. After all, she had a good life by most standards since he had been successful at what he did.

  They'd had a beautiful home in Miami, where they spent the off-season before he was off to spring training and then the
regular season. When they had first been married, Yvonne would follow him to Central Florida for spring training and find an apartment in whatever town happened to be home. In the eight, close to nine years of their marriage, they'd lived in San Francisco, Atlanta, and Milwaukee. It had given Yvonne the chance to see a lot of the United States, but had deprived her of being near her family and having a career of her own.

  She'd wanted to coach and maybe play basketball in some local leagues. It was difficult to do either when you didn’t know how long you were going to be living somewhere. But the moving around, putting her life on hold, was only supposed to have happened for a few years. Only until he was thirty-two he had promised her, thinking that by then he would have won a World Series ring. After all, he was a talented player and had been picked up by teams that often made it to the Divisional playoffs, in part thanks to his contributions.

  Eric had promised to retire so that they could settle somewhere. Yvonne could then have some kids, get a coaching job, and maybe play the sport she loved with more frequency.

  It hadn't happened. When he didn't get his ring, he kept on playing, and as the years passed, he and Yvonne had drifted farther and farther apart as she tried to build the life she wanted while he was off playing ball. Eventually, they had drifted so far apart that it made little sense for them to stay married.

  They'd been divorced for nearly two years now. Two lonely years he had to confess. No one had ever made him as happy as Yvonne. The problem was that he had failed to make her happy. He'd failed her period. Failed to fulfill the promises he had made to his wife.

  He'd been a fool and regretted it every day since the day she had walked out of his life. He often wondered how he could not have seen how unhappy she was and done something about it.

  He stared at her photo again, felt that familiar ache in the area of his heart, and realized now that the more important question was, “What could he do to get her back?”

  Chapter Two

  Her insides trembled with a combination of fear and anticipation. She leaned her foot on the bench in front of her locker and tightened the laces on her sneakers for what must have been the hundredth time that night. As she did so, one of the other girls tapped her on the back and kidded, "Keep this up, Lopez, and you’re going to miss the pre-game warm-ups."

  Yvonne looked back at her teammate and smiled. "Didn't want to show you guys up," she teased back. As the rookie on the club, she'd had to earn her spot in more ways than one -- proving she could still play and that she could take the trash talk she might have to face once the season began.

  She stood, smoothed the nylon jersey over her body, and was amazed once more that she had been able to do it. After so many years of wishing and trying, she had finally achieved her dreams. She was playing professional basketball and coaching at her old high school. She had made it, but....

  She'd done it alone. She hadn't planned on it being that way, thinking that Eric would have been at her side. Eric and a child or two. Yvonne forced those regrets from her mind. They had no place on this night meant to celebrate her success.

  Jogging out the door of the locker room and into the hallway, she exited onto the hardwood court and grabbed a loose ball that rolled up to her. She paused, bounced it a few times to get a feel for it, then released the shot from beyond the three-point line. It made a perfect arc and swished through the basket. Nothing but net, she cheered herself and jogged over to where her teammates were busy warming up. She joined in their drills, accepting a few passes for lay-ups. Back-pedaling back to the foul line for some jump shots. Each one sank through the net. She was hot tonight and glad about it.

  This was their first home game, and her family, students, and assorted friends were gathered in the stands. She didn't want to fail them tonight. They'd all waited too long for this moment.

  As the end of the warm-up time approached, she followed her teammates to the area beneath the basket, where several fans had gathered for photos and autographs. Some young men called out to her as she approached and waved the magazine with her on the cover, urging her to come over and sign.

  Heat raced up to her cheeks at the sight of herself in the magazine. When she had first posed for the photo, she'd done it on a dare from one of the other girls on the team, never expecting that the shot would be chosen, much less used for the cover. She didn't regret it, but.... She worried about what others would say when they saw it.

  She had no choice but to act cool as she grabbed the first magazine, smiled at the young man, and signed her name. Several other magazines were thrust in her face as the admirers jockeyed around her, laughing and asking all kinds of things about how she liked playing. She answered them politely, steered away from some of the suggestive comments that might lead to problems. The group dissipated after a few minutes as the men moved on to another of her teammates. She was about to head into the locker room when another magazine was thrust before her.

  She grabbed it and smiled, automatically asking, "And your name is – "

  "Eric," he answered, his voice low and intimate.

  Her head shot up, although she needed no confirmation of who it was. "Eric," she repeated.

  "Sí. Eric. E, r, i – "

  "I didn't expect to see you here," she replied nervously and juggled the magazine in her hands.

  "I saw the photo and realized I'd be free for your first game. You waited a long time for this. I wanted to come by and wish you well," he answered, no hint of any evasiveness or anger in his voice.

  She glanced down at the photo and worried that it might have upset him. "I'm sorry about the cover. I hope it hasn't caused you any problems."

  "None, I couldn't handle. Besides....You look good, Yvonne. You look happy. That's all that matters," Eric answered with a casual shrug and pointed to the magazine again. "You don't really have to sign it, sabes. I just wanted to come by and wish you well."

  Yvonne hesitated, uncertain of what to say to this man who had been her lover, her husband, and the center of her life for over eleven years, if you counted all the time they had dated in college. How did she handle his coming back into her life after the past three years when ....

  What makes me think he wants back into my life? she thought and glanced up at him.

  Okay, there was no doubt about the look in his eyes. And there was no doubt he was there for more than just to wish her well. But she'd had her share of Eric's life already, and there was no room in it for hers.

  "Still playing, aren't you? How's the team doing?" she asked, and he had the grace to blush and duck his head down.

  "The team is doing really well, but the Series is a long shot," he answered truthfully, a stain of color blossoming along his sculpted cheekbones.

  "Sorry to hear that. How's the shoulder –"

  "Hurts like a bitch. All the time, but you deal with it." He shook his head and sighed harshly. "I guess we both know where this is leading. Good luck in tonight's game, Yvonne."

  He didn't wait for her to answer. He stalked away, heading for the stands, but Yvonne lingered, staring after him until one of the other girls leaned close to her and said, "If Mr. Tall, Dark and Very Gorgeous is bothering you, we can call Security."

  Yvonne shook her head and glanced at Sandy as a young girl of about eleven came up to them and asked if they would sign her basketball. She asked the young girl her name, signed the ball, and handed it to Sandy. When Sandy finished, she looked back at Yvonne and said, "Do you know him?"

  "We used to be married," she answered, and as no more fans were waiting, she thanked Sandy for her concern, patted her on the back as she headed off to the locker room, intent on getting her mind back on the game and off her ex.

  ⚾

  Her hip ached from where she had come down hard on the floor after getting fouled as she hit the boards for a rebound.

  She refused to rub it and give the veteran player from the other team the satisfaction of seeing that it hurt. Aligning herself along the foul line, she took the ball from the referee and bounced it a few times. Sweat dripped down the side of her face, and her short-cropped hair was plastered to her head. She ignored the sliding drop of sweat and took a deep breath before shooting.

  Yvonne released the ball, and it sailed with a smooth arc and into the net with a swish. She smiled, glanced at the player who had fouled her, thinking to put the pressure on her -- the rookie. Hoping Yvonne would choke. The point she had just scored made it difficult for the other team to tie the game up. They would need a three-pointer. If she made the second shot, it would pretty much clinch the game.