Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3

by McConnell, Lucy

  As he sank, an ocean of uncertainty washed over his head. He had nowhere to go. He’d been drafted out of high school. He couldn’t become a sportscaster without a degree. Maybe some guys could, but he wasn’t that famous. Just a big-time pitcher for a start-up team. The silence in the room was heavy with sadness.

  “Brayden, you’ll always be a Redrock,” offered Mrs. Wolfe.

  He couldn’t lift his eyes to meet hers. “Thank you for saying that. And please don’t think I’m ungrateful for being included. It’s just a lot to take in.” The backs of his eyes stung, and he pressed his thumb and finger into them to stem the flow. It wasn’t just baseball he was losing—it was Tilly. She’d still marry him, but she deserved so much more than a high school graduate with no future.

  Elise finished up and stepped back. “That should help you get some rest. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t forget to check on Tilly.” He knew the desperation in his voice made him sound pathetic, but he didn’t care.

  “I’m on my way.” She took a step and then stopped. “You know she quit the expedition company, don’t you?”

  Brayden sank even lower. “No.”

  “She probably didn’t want to worry you. But I thought you should know that she’ll be around.” Elise patted his arm. “Drink some water, okay? I released a lot of acid into your system, and you don’t want a stomachache.”

  Too late. His gut churned knowing Tilly had quit the job she loved so much. He blinked, trying to absorb the message Elise wasn’t saying out loud. He was tired and his head hurt and his lower back ached now that the upper back wasn’t so tight. Elise left, and his attention shifted back to Coach.

  “Anything’s possible.” He met Brayden’s curious gaze with a firm tilt to his jaw. “But we have to deal with the facts as they are. And right now, we’re down a pitcher.”

  Brayden did an extra-long blink. He’d done several of those in the hospital to let people know he’d heard them.

  “Hickman called up a kid. Gunner Pinch. He’s our best shot right now, but his cutter is weak. I’d like you to work with him.”

  Brayden pressed his palms together. They stung as if he’d hit a homer without batting gloves, the vibration of the bat numbing his nerves. “What do you mean?”

  Mrs. Wolfe shifted in her seat. “We’d like to hire you as a pitching consultant. You’ll be a part of the Redrocks family, have health insurance, access to Doc and the PTs so they can oversee your recovery. All the perks.”

  “Part time at first. Until you get your energy back,” added Doc.

  “We’ll see how you do as a coach, and if things work out, there could be a spot for you long-term.”

  Brayden felt like he was falling off the cliff all over again. His life was out of his control, and Coach and Mrs. Wolfe were making all the decisions. He could see how they would think they were doing something right, something kind. Charity work. He’d become a charity case.

  He may have hit his head, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew a good offer when he saw one. Heck, this situation wasn’t all that different from when the coach for the minors had sat down with him and his parents and offered him a lot of money to play baseball. He’d thought he was the luckiest guy in the world that day. Maybe he was. Maybe he’d used up all his luck just getting into the majors and it’d run right out. Because being asked to train his replacement was a big jab at his pride.

  He glanced about the room, knowing he would remember this moment for the rest of his life and wishing for all he was worth that Tilly was sitting next to him, holding his hand. Her touch had a way of infusing him with confidence and a sense that all was right with the world.

  “Sounds like you’ve thought this through.” He laced his fingers together and squeezed. “I’d be happy to help out the team in any way I can,” he said. That’s what you say when Coach asks you to do him a favor.

  “Wonderful.” Mrs. Wolfe popped up. “There’s something else I need to check on. If you’ll excuse me.” She headed for the door. Brayden watched through the window as she walked down the street, towards Tilly’s.

  He didn’t have long to wonder what she was up to, because Doc and Coach were lifting him off the couch. “Let’s get you in settled,” said Coach. “You look beat.”

  He was beat. Beat up and beat down. “I’ll take the recliner.” He pointed to the big chair.

  “We’ll swing by the bathroom and let you take care of business on the way,” added Doc.

  Great. He’d become that guy. Was there no end to how far he could fall? Scratch that. He knew better than to ask that question. When life had you by the collar, you didn’t egg it on to hit you again.

  “We’re headed to New York for a three-day series. But I expect you at the field when we get back,” said Coach as he lifted his hat and repositioned it on his head. “Doc says you’ll be working with Elise at home until then and should be ready.”

  “My neck brace will be off.” Once the brace was off, he’d be clear to do a lot more. It shocked him how quick this whole process was, considering all his body had been through. The rods were the answer. He didn’t have to wait for bones to mend, because they wouldn’t. His body would need to adapt, but that was a different process than healing.

  “Good. That’s something to look forward to.”

  Good thing. He didn’t have much else to look forward to. Although, he was really looking forward to holding Tilly. She liked to nuzzle his neck, said he was a warm body and she loved the feel of him next to her. Now that was a solid reason to look forward to getting the neck brace off.

  Chapter Six

  Tilly

  Tilly groaned as she lifted her right arm over her head and tipped to the side. She sat on a purple yoga mat in her living room while Elise put her through a slow form of torture. Coach Wolfe and others were at Brayden’s—she hadn’t even known he’d be coming home today, and yet three cars showed up at his arrival as if they’d been scripted. Four cars if you counted that nurse that drove Brayden home. She still wasn’t sure how that had happened, but she was a mess, hadn’t showered in two days, and she wasn’t about to march over there and take on Miss Shiny Hair. Any other day she’d be all over the woman, but she just didn’t have it in her—the meds made her head foggy and her appendages lead.

  Thankfully, the doctor said she could quit the muscle relaxers and move to over-the-counter options, which had helped ease the headaches. She didn’t like being knocked out and bleary-minded.

  Elise felt along her side, looking for sore muscles and finding them with ease. “You got off lucky. You could have broken a rib.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Tilly gasped as Elise pressed a knot that had formed between her ribs. “I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat.”

  “I think this rib is out of place. Let me work it back in.” Elise did something tricky, and there was a pop. Tilly breathed in and was happy to find that the feeling of being constricted had lessened. “Umm, this one too.” Elise frowned.

  “I wish it was me in the hospital. This is all my fault.” Tilly hung her head.

  Elise pushed it back up and moved around to work on her lower back.

  She bit her lip. “Is he really mad at me?”

  “He’s not mad at you,” Elise scolded.

  “He didn’t even tell me he was coming home.”

  “I’m sure he just wanted to surprise you.”

  Tilly lifted both her eyebrows, asking, Really? “You saw who dropped him off.” She’d seen Elise talk to the busybody nurse and practically cheered when Mrs. Wolfe sent her packing. Yes, it was creepy to watch the exchange through her cracked blinds, but she didn’t care. She wanted too badly to be with Brayden, to walk over there and slip her arm around his middle. But he hadn’t told her he was coming home. Hadn’t said a word, which made her think that he didn’t want her there. And that stung.

  “A poor decision at best,” Elise admitted. “She’s not an issue, trust me. Brayden loves you with all h
is heart. That man can’t function without you. So you need to scoot yourself on over there and let him know that even though his world is falling apart, you’re not.”

  Tilly nodded numbly. Clover had dropped off a bunch of groceries the day before. She could make lunch and take it over. Knowing Brayden, there wasn’t more than a few power bars in his cupboard and sour milk and mustard in his fridge.

  There was a knock at the door, and both women turned as Mrs. Wolfe walked right on in. Tilly’s cheeks flushed. Clothing and used towels littered the living room floor. Throw pillows were scattered haphazardly across the furniture. Several cherry cola cans and takeout boxes filled the coffee table. She really needed to get her head on straight if Mrs. Wolfe was going to walk into her house as if they were best friends.

  “May I sit?” the owner of the Redrocks asked as she sat on the couch.

  “Of course. You’re always welcome, Mrs. Wolfe,” Tilly replied automatically. Her mother would be so proud of her grace under pressure.

  “Please, call me Harper.” She smiled easily.

  Tilly swallowed. “Okay.” If she didn’t know the woman on her couch was a billionaire, and the owner of a baseball team, and her boyfriend’s boss, she would think she was here on a social call. Tilly looked a little closer. Harper wasn’t that much older than her and Elise, yet she carried herself like a person who knew her way around life.

  Harper smiled easily, her eyes twinkling with a secret—no, with a plan. She had something up her sleeve. “I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll just take a moment of your time.”

  Elise pulled Tilly’s arm down and moved it across her front so she could work under the shoulder blade. “Don’t worry about me. I can pretend I can’t hear you.” She gave Tilly a knowing smile.

  Tilly could only imagine the things Elise had to tune out at work. Massaging and exercising 25-plus men before and after a game or workout would make any girl’s ears burn with gossip and confessions. More than once, Tilly had emptied her troubles on the massage table.

  Harper leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “I’ve seen you at the games and things. You have a real way with people.”

  “Thanks.” Tilly tried to breathe while Elise worked out a sore spot.

  “I’d like to offer you a position at the stadium.”

  Tilly’s head snapped up, and she disentangled herself so she could face Harper. “What do you mean?” She’d quit her job. Her body quaked at the thought of taking another person’s life in her hands after what had happened with Brayden. She didn’t have a backup plan, just knew that her mental stability depended on keeping her feet on the ground right now. She had savings, enough for a few months, but not enough to live like a princess who didn’t have to earn an income.

  “We’re expanding our community outreach. Well …” She tipped her head, considering her words, her beautiful blond hair cascading over her shoulder. “We’re expanding our welcome.”

  Tilly blinked. The beginning of the community outreach campaign had brought Clover and Dustin together. He’d volunteered at The Pantry, a charity that provided food for people in need where Clover also volunteered, and the rest was history.

  “We’ve invited the local schools to come on tours of the stadium, and we need a guide,” Harper continued. “Then, during games, we’d need you in the home plate section, making sure our guests are comfortable.”

  Tilly had seen the care the home plate section received during games. They bought the high-priced tickets and in return were given free sunscreen and ice waters. She’d also seen them order food to their seats, eliminating the need to stand in lines at the concession stands. The ticket holders were mostly local business owners who liked to look like big shots. Of course, when big teams like Boston and LA came to play, the section was packed.

  “I—” She paused. “I think I could do that.” A tour guide was a far cry from the climbing guide she had been, but the same principles applied.

  “Wonderful.” Harper stood and tugged at her shirt. She was all elegance in her flowing wide-legged pants, kitten heels, and short shirt. How anyone could wear that much white and stay clean was beyond Tilly. “I’ll have your name put on the roster, and my secretary will call with the particulars. I can give you another day to recover, but the first tours start Monday.”

  “I should be able to make that.” Now that she was off the meds, her head should clear enough, and in the week since the accident, her ankle had improved greatly. She wore a brace for stability. It may ache after walking the stadium, but she’d make do. This was an advantageous move for her, and it felt like God was looking out for her with this job offer.

  “Great. Good luck with your recovery, and please let us know if there’s anything we can do.” Harper said goodbye and let herself out.

  Elise put her hands on Tilly’s shoulders and turned her around so she could get back to work. Her movements were quick and efficient. “Sorry. I have to get going. Doc will want to head back as soon as Harper’s ready to go.” She finished under one shoulder blade and started the other.

  As she worked, Tilly mentally reviewed the last few minutes. “She gave me a job, right? It pays?” She hadn’t asked about money but had assumed.

  Elise giggled. “I’m pretty sure you’ll make decent money. Harper isn’t one to take advantage of you.”

  “Do you know her well?” She was intrigued by the woman—she was a billionaire, after all. It was strange to think of her on a human level.

  Elise didn’t answer right away. “She’s not standoffish, but since she owns the team, there’s always this space between her and the staff. I think it’s respect.” She paused, using her thumb to break down a knot. “But she’s super nice, fair, and honest. I trust her.”

  “Hmm.” The sound of a key fob unlocking doors came through the front window. “That’s your signal,” Tilly teased.

  Elise got to her feet and then helped Tilly up. “I’ll plan on giving you a full workup after your first day of work. Meet me in the PT room. Okay?”

  Tilly leaned in for a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Your man is probably thinking the same thing.” Elise pulled back, keeping her hands on Tilly’s upper arms. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

  Tilly gave her a small smile and nodded.

  Elise sensed her hesitation. “He doesn’t blame you.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I blame myself,” Tilly whispered.

  “Stop it.” Elise gave her another hug.

  Tilly laughed at her friend’s bluntness. “I’ll try.”

  Elise let herself out, and Tilly set about cleaning the front room. She straightened the pillows and threw away the mounds of candy wrappers and paper plates. Then, she pulled out the vacuum and made beautiful lines in the carpet. Once that was complete, she put her hands on her hips and blew her lips out.

  She was running out of ways to stall. She made sandwiches and grabbed a bag of chips out of the pantry, her heart heavy at the thought of Brayden’s eyes holding an ounce of accusation. It was time to face the music. With a grocery bag over her arm, she slowly made her way across the street. Whatever Elise had done to her helped. Most of the stiffness was gone, and she had fluidity to her movements that she hadn’t thought she’d get back so soon.

  The sun was out in full force, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The heat came from all directions, radiating up from the blacktop as she crossed the street and pressing down on her shoulders. The weight of it was comforting and healing. She needed to spend some time outdoors to restore her soul. How she was going to manage working inside all day was an honest question. If she could climb after work, she might survive, but she still wasn’t ready for that—physically or emotionally. She squeezed her eyes shut as the image of Brayden lying in the red soil crossed her mind.

  The cars from earlier were all gone, and the street was quiet. She stopped and took in Brayden’s house. They had the same floor plan, the same tiled
roof and creamy stucco color. His flower beds had the HOA-provided shrubs, where hers were sprinkled with color. She often brought home flowers that reminded her of a hike they’d taken.

  On the outside, no one would know that Brayden hadn’t been home for a week. The grass was mowed and the place looked cared for, like several of the vacation homes on their street. He was in there now, and her body knew it, her bones drawn to him like magnets. Her heartbeat thrummed in her wrists.

  She stepped up to the door and knocked. Twisting the bag’s handle, she shook her head at herself. She never knocked at Brayden’s door. They just walked in. So, taking a leap of faith, she turned the knob and entered. The shades were drawn, giving the room a muted look. The place smelled empty, the faint scent of Brayden’s body spray barely discernible.

  Brayden was in the recliner, fast asleep. His face was calm, peaceful. The pinch between his eyebrows that had been there for the last week was gone. His broad shoulders took up much of the chair. She glanced at the low arm, where she usually perched as they watched movies but mostly clung to one another.

  SportsCenter was on the television. Of course he fell asleep listening to guys talk about baseball. It soothed him. There had been a sense of restlessness about him when she’d visited in the hospital, his legs twitching, his fingers curling around an imaginary ball.

  She searched for the remote and was about to turn it off when Brayden’s picture filled the screen, making her gasp. She glanced quickly at his prone form to ensure he wasn’t listening to the report, and then perched on the edge of the coffee table.

  The guy with the shaved head started things off. “It’s tragic. This guy was on his way to becoming a superstar. In another season, he could have been playing for LA. All the cogs were in place and moving in that direction. And now he’s out.”

  Tilly pressed her palm over her mouth to keep in her moan of anguish. Having his prognosis, his future, summed up with the practiced detachment of a broadcaster was like being run over.