The Baseball Card Boyfriend (Starrycard Creek Bachelors #3)

Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

CHRISTIAN

Christian tucked a lock of Maggie’s hair behind her ear and stroked her head, gazing at the woman as she slept. She’d fallen asleep curled against him with her head resting on his lap. Her hair spread across his legs and caught the scant rays of morning light. With her lips slightly parted and her eyelashes fluttering gently against her cheeks, she was the picture of serene beauty. He sighed, listening as her breath matched the rhythm of her chest rising and falling.

Everything about her was perfect.

The environment where she’d fallen asleep?

Not so much.

Now, had he wanted to spend the night with her?

Absolutely.

He’d dreamed of the moment he’d sweep her into his arms, carrying her to his bed as if they were living a fairy tale—because having her here felt like a magical miracle. Knowing she felt the same connection only deepened his conviction that their destinies were entwined.

What he hadn’t expected was for this night to take place in a Creek County Sheriff’s Department holding cell.

Yeah, they’d bunked in jail.

“Here’s Lucky, Mr. Starrycard. I took him on a nice walk and got him some kibble and treats from the guys in animal management,” the smiling young officer said, stepping into the holding area. He handed over the leash as if he were presenting a prized possession, his grin wide and genuine.

Christian mustered a tired smile. “I appreciate you allowing us to keep him here.”

Lucky trotted into the cell, his tail wagging as he approached Maggie. He sniffed her with a familiar affection, as if reassuring himself that his favorite person was okay. Once satisfied, the dog turned his gaze on Christian. No, not just a gaze—a glare filled with silent reproach.

Christian let out a resigned sigh, patting the pup’s head. “I know, boy. I know. I screwed up.”

That was the understatement of the century.

The officer, who had kindly taken Lucky to the closest patch of grass, closed the cell door behind him. The lock clicked with a sharp clang, but instead of heading over to the area lined with desks a few paces away, the young man lingered. He smoothed his uniform shirt, then drummed his fingertips nervously against his thigh, clearly hesitant to leave.

Christian watched him and knew what was coming. The man either had a baseball question or wanted an autograph. His celebrity status had served them well so far, even if the circumstances were less than ideal. Once the cops realized they were arresting a baseball legend, they were pretty accommodating after holstering their weapons. Still, that didn’t take away from the situation being an absolute clusterfuck.

The officer shifted his stance. “Sorry we’ve had to keep you locked up overnight. Do you need anything? Any more snacks? Drinks? Another blanket?”

“We’re good, and I understand you’re doing your job.”

The officer glanced over his shoulder at the empty desks, then leaned in slightly as if sharing a secret. “We heard about you getting picked up in Rocky Mountain City and thrown in the drunk tank a few times.”

Here it comes.

Christian maintained a forced grin. “Yeah, that was a tough time, but I’m doing much better.”

“When we got word that you’d come back to Starrycard Creek, the fellas and I were wondering if we’d get to arrest you, too,” the officer added with a hint of excitement, as if this were some long-awaited event.

Christian let out a dry chuckle. “It appears dreams do come true.”

“They do,” the man replied, bright-eyed. “Picking up the Christian Starrycard—wearing nothing but a blanket wrapped around his waist after accidentally setting fire to a senior center—is a story I’m sure I’ll be telling my grandkids someday.”

“I’m pleased to be of service,” he replied flatly, sensing that his strained smile was on its last legs.

The officer’s expression darkened. “I’ve got to say, I hate what happened to you—your arm and all.”

Christian nodded. “I appreciate your kind words,” he said, recycling the same phrase he’d used countless times.

The officer perked up again, as if eager to make a connection. “I went to high school with your little sister Caroline. She’s two years older than me. A real ballbuster.”

“Yes, she still is,” Christian answered, itching to leave this cell and return to the ranch with Maggie. “Any information on when we can leave? I’m happy to pay a fine or take care of posting bail.”

Color rose to the officer’s cheeks, and he nervously scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, I wish I could do that for you, but the judge insisted we keep you overnight.”

“The judge?” Christian repeated, a knot twisting in his belly. Shit! This newbie cop must have filed charges.

“Yes, Judge Ironside.”

“Ironside?” Christian stammered, the name sending an icy chill down his spine.

No, this couldn’t be! Not him!

“Yeah, you’ve got to appear before him.”

“There’s nobody else?”

“No, sir, not that I’m aware. He’s the acting magistrate.”

Dammit! Judge Ironside was as crusty as they get, and he had a history with the man.

“Does the clothing work?” the officer continued, back to making mind-numbing small talk. “I figured you’d prefer those over orange jumpsuits. I’ve got to say. It was an honor arresting you.”

Fuck.

Christian peered at Maggie, sleeping in an oversized heather gray Creek County Sheriff’s Department sweatshirt and sweatpants. He had on a matching pair.

“We appreciate it.”

“And your…” the officer said, gesturing to the woman still asleep.

“My Maggie,” Christian answered, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

“Your Maggie really doesn’t know her last name?” the officer asked, his brow furrowing in disbelief.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Wild to think she’s got amnesia,” the officer mused, shaking his head. “What a night! You’re my first celebrity arrest, and she’s my first arrest without a last name.”

Christian hadn’t slept a wink and felt his patience wearing thin. “Is there anything I can sign for you to celebrate this exciting milestone in your career?” he asked, hoping to bring an end to the conversation.

The officer’s face lit up. “Ah, man, I’d love that. I was trying to figure out how to bring it up in conversation and do it before the other guys came in for their shift.” He hurried over to a desk drawer and pulled out a sports magazine. “It’s an edition of Baseball Times . The one that came out after you hit the winning run for the Rattlers in your first World Series. Can you make it out to me, Johnny Gandy?” He passed the magazine through the bars, along with a pen, just as the phone rang on the desk.

Christian took the magazine and pen and signed the cover. As he did, he couldn’t help but overhear the officer’s curious conversation.

“Hey, yeah, I know who this is. You beat me in the Creek County High School arm wrestling contest,” the officer said, then frowned, confusion marring his expression as he listened to whomever was on the other end of the call. “I don’t know. We’re really not supposed to—” he continued, then snapped his mouth shut, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “Okay, okay, whatever you say.” The cop walked the phone over, stretching the cord to the holding cell. “You’ve got a call. It’s Caroline Starrycard.”

Christian eyed the phone. “My sister is calling the station?”

“Take the phone, dude!” Caroline’s voice boomed through the receiver.

“Thanks, Officer,” he said, exchanging the pen and magazine for the phone. He pressed it to his ear. “How’d you know I was in here, Care?”

“Your buddy Officer Gandy posted in the Starrycard High School alumni group that he’d made his first arrest at the Starrycard Creek Senior Center. He noted a party of three and the lack of clothing. I’m pretty sure we’re the only two people ridiculous enough to break in. So, I figured it was you, and it looks like you convinced a lady friend to do it with you, and you brought a dog. Have you completely lost your mind? Do you have turd burgers for brains thanks to all that bathtub hooch? Seriously, Chris, what’s going on?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. His sister’s words were like a hammer to his already throbbing head. “It’s complicated.”

“Did you think you were invisible, or were you trying to outdo me as the most screwed-up Starrycard sibling? Sure, your latest antics had you in the running, but I had a solid grip on that title until you decided to burn down a building naked as the day you were born, no less.”

“I wasn’t naked, and I didn’t burn down an entire building. The only part affected was the culinary classroom. I’ll pay for the repairs. It’ll be fine.”

“Did you get any pie action before the pyro action?”

“Yes, we had pie,” he answered warily, knowing where this was going.

“Did you get any action-action ?”

“Caroline,” he growled, his eyes darting to Maggie, who shifted in her sleep, oblivious to the conversation.

“That’s a yes,” Caroline said triumphantly, not missing a beat. “How is Maggie? I assume that’s who you’re with. Kenz has been keeping me apprised of her condition while I remain happily abroad.”

“Abroad where? Bali, Italy, Antarctica? Have you found yourself?” he asked, trying to divert her attention.

“Very funny. Just so you know, I’m about ninety percent of the way to getting my life together.”

“Ninety?” he repeated warily.

“Oh, fuck off! I’m a solid seventy-five—no, like sixty-eight point five.”

Jesus, this family!

“Do you need cash? Did you tap out Dad?”

“No, jackass, I don’t need money,” she blasted. “I’m a damned good graphic designer and make decent money doing my thing online. If Starrycard Creek Paper ever wanted to dip its toe into the digital age, I’d know just what to do.”

“Good luck getting Finn and Owen on board.”

“Forget them,” she replied, barreling on like a steamroller. “I’m calling to help you. I need to talk to you before Mom and Kieran get there.”

Shit!

“Mom and Kieran know I’m in jail?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Dammit, it wasn’t even eight in the morning, and the entire family had probably mobilized.

“Yep, the sheriff called Mom about an hour ago. Kenz spent the night with Mom and Dad at Starrycard House and heard the call. She texted me the deets immediately. She’s good like that. I’ve got her trained. I’m up to date on your progress—or lack of—and all the Maggie amnesia particulars. The woman doesn’t recall a thing. That’s crazy.”

“Are you having a seven-year-old spy for you?”

“She’s a pro, and she said she did it for Finn when he was keeping tabs on Hailey. I’m simply expanding our niece’s skill set.”

Christian hung his head. “We’re gonna ruin that kid.”

“She’s fine,” Caroline quipped. “Now, I’m just going to say this. Listen up, slugger.”

“I’m in jail, Care. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“Christian William Starrycard…”

“Yes?” he said, sensing the seriousness in her tone.

“I know you’re in love with Maggie.”

WTF.

His mind went blank for a second, unable to process how in the hell his sister would have any idea about what he felt for Maggie. “Caroline, what are you talking about?” he blurted, the best response he could muster.

“You brought her to the pool…and you got her arrested, which is not the most romantic of choices, but you brought her to the senior center, and that’s so telling.”

How had she connected love to breaking into the center?

“I didn’t intend on getting arrested, and I thought the pool might help her retrieve her memories.” His pulse quickened. He hadn’t lied but hadn’t told the complete truth either. “Why would you connect the pool to being in love?”

“Do you remember Wade Willigan?”

Who the hell was Wade Willigan?

“No, and what a fucking awful name.”

“I was sure you’d remember,” Caroline lamented. “Anyway, I had a big crush on Wade Willigan in third grade. I wanted to bring him along with us to the pool one night, and you said only people you love, like family, can sneak into the pool because we’re the only ones who can become invisible.”

Damn, she was right.

He sighed. “I forgot I said that. In my defense, I told you a lot of bullshit back then.”

“Yeah, you did, and I’m permanently banned from the candy shop because of it,” Caroline replied, a touch of humor laced with the seriousness of her words. He could picture her smirking, but the weight of what she was about to say kept his heart in a vise. “But somewhere in your head, or maybe your heart, you decided to bring Maggie there.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, his throat tightening.

“I’m saying it’s okay to care about her, but she’s got to be fragile, and you are, too.”

“I could bench press you, even with my jacked-up shoulder,” he said, trying to lighten the conversation, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. He flinched. There was no way Caroline wouldn’t catch it.

“I’m not talking about physical strength, Chris,” she said gently. And like with Eliza, when Caroline stopped razzing him and softened her voice, shit was about to get real. “You never do anything halfway,” she continued. “You throw your whole heart into everything. Just be careful. She might have a life out there—a life that doesn’t include you.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he replied, emotion seeping through despite his best efforts to remain composed.

For a beat, Caroline didn’t say a word, and her silence spoke volumes.

Of course, he wanted to tell his sister that she was right. That he loved Maggie—that he’d dreamed of her, that she’d brought him comfort when she was a figment of his imagination and now brought him pure joy, but he couldn’t.

“Listen, I’ve got to go. Just be careful. I love you, little star,” she said, using the Starrycard family’s term of endearment.

The words brought back a flood of memories. He pictured her as that fearless eight-year-old with a gap-toothed grin and eyes full of excitement, always ready for their next escapade. He sighed as a sentimental grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Right back at you, Care.”

“Hey,” Maggie mumbled sleepily as Caroline ended the call, and the line went dead.

“TBD,” he said, shifting his attention to her. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah. Who were you talking to?” she asked, easing off his lap.

“My sister Caroline called,” he replied, watching her intently.

“She called the station?” Maggie’s brows knitted in mild confusion.

“Yes, my family knows we’re here,” he admitted, the reality of their situation pressing down on him.

“I’m making quite an impression,” she said with a wry smile, though he could see the concern lurking beneath her light tone.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as if to reassure her. “They’ll know this is my fault.”

“But it wasn’t just you. It was us.” Maggie’s voice was firm.

Sensing the tension, Lucky nuzzled between them.

“The three of us,” she said, her voice lighter as she kissed the top of Lucky’s head. “We’re a real menace to society.” She turned back to Christian, her expression shifting to one of concern. “Did you get any rest?”

“Not really.”

“Did I keep you up? I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your lap,” she said, guilt flickering in her eyes.

“Watching you fall asleep in my lap was the best part of not sleeping. I probably wouldn’t have slept even if we weren’t here. I couldn’t stop looking at you, knowing you’re real.”

Maggie blushed that shade of pink that had imprinted itself on his soul, and then she looked away and smoothed her hair. “I must be a mess.”

“No, not even close. Don’t you get it?” He lifted her chin, guiding her to meet his gaze.

“Get what?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“You’re stunning.”

She smiled, but doubt lingered in her eyes. “Even now, after spending a night in jail?”

“Especially now. Maggie, you will always be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, whether you’re in that cute-as-hell jean skirt or rocking Creek County’s hottest inmate hoodie. You’re perfect because of who you are to me.”

“But we don’t know who I am?”

He took her hand in his. “You’re the girl of my dreams and always will be. We’ll figure out the rest. You know I’m right. You feel it, too, don’t you?”

“Yes, I feel it.” She smiled the smile from his dreams—warm and soothing, like a soft light breaking through the darkness. Her lips curved gently, and her hazel eyes sparkled with a kindness that seemed to wrap around him like a warm blanket.

He traced his knuckles down her jawline, and she hummed the sexiest little sound.

Instantly, nature took over.

He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Do you know how badly I want to make you come again? Do you know how much I’d give to watch you part your perfect lips and beg to be kissed?”

She glanced down, then met his gaze, a sly smirk on her perfect lips. “I have a pretty good idea, thanks to those snug gray sweatpants.”

“There’s the bad girl,” he replied, his tone low and teasing, but he was cut off by the sound of a voice clearing.

“Um…Mr. Starrycard, Miss…Maggie, no last name of record,” Officer Gandy said, interrupting the moment and reminding Christian exactly where they were—in a freaking jail cell—and he was rocking a very inappropriate boner.

“Yes,” Christian replied, desperately trying to think of every chaste thought he could muster.

Another officer had joined Officer Gandy.

“Judge Ironside is ready for you,” Gandy began. “I’ll keep an eye on your dog. Officer Miles will escort you to the hearing room. We need to get moving. The Honorable Morris T. Ironside doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Maggie’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. “Ironside?” she repeated, her expression brightening. “That’s my doctor’s last name. Do you know if they’re related?”

“Your doctor is his cousin,” Christian explained.

“That’s fantastic news,” she replied, her voice tinged with hope. “We should be okay, right? Dr. Ironside is kind and helpful. I’m sure her cousin is, too.”

“Nope,” Officer Gandy interjected. “He’s the scariest guy I ever met. And word is, the second he looked at the docket, he got extra grouchy. And you two are the only thing on it. We don’t get a whole lot of crime around here.”

“Oh,” Maggie uttered, her optimistic expression dimming.

The knot of dread in Christian’s stomach tightened, twisting painfully as he watched the shift in her demeanor.

“Why would he be extra grouchy?” Maggie asked, her voice wavering slightly as she searched his face. “I thought everyone adored you around here.”

His heart ached to comfort her and tell her it would all be fine, but there was no sense in sugarcoating it. “Everyone pretty much does. Everyone except for Morris T. Ironside.”