Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3

by McConnell, Lucy

  She held up a hand. “I’m not selling my house. Geez—ego much? If you haven’t noticed, I’m doing fine.”

  His hands fell to his sides. “Then what’s with the real estate agent?”

  She pressed her lips together, and he could imagine her running her fingers over them as if she were zipping them shut.

  “Talk to me, Tills.” Her nickname fell from his lips as easily as his hands had gone to her arms the night before. He was as drawn to her as he’d ever been. Things between them could be so easy. “I miss our talks. You’re my best friend.”

  “I was just a girl you dated.”

  “No.” He cut his hand through the air. “That’s not right.”

  “It is from where I’m sitting.” She swept inside and shut the door.

  Brayden stared at the door for a while. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there before he found the ability to head back home.

  * * *

  Tilly

  Tilly took a shaky breath. When Clover had said she was going to send someone over to pray with her, she was expecting an older gentleman, maybe the pastor who had taken Clover in for a while. She certainly didn’t expect a middle-aged real estate agent.

  Cheri was so kind. And her ability to form a beautiful prayer was a gift. Tilly had relaxed into the words that were as much poetry as they were a supplication to the Almighty on her behalf. She’d opened the clamped-shut parts of herself in the peace that followed.

  It was that peace that held her together in the wake of Brayden’s desperation that she not sell her house. His offer to sell his instead was so sweet, so selfless, so heartbreakingly wonderful that it made her ache for him all over again.

  And could she forget about that ring? No! It haunted her like the ghost of boyfriends past.

  One day. One day she would be able to look at Brayden and not want him.

  For now, she’d rely on the Lord to get her through. She pushed away from the door, noting that she wasn’t in a heap on the floor in tears. That was progress. Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the yoga mat in the corner of the room. Centering herself seemed like an appropriate thing to do at the moment.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brayden

  “I understand why they call this place the torture chamber now,” Brayden bit out through gritted teeth. He lifted the weight out to the side with a straight arm.

  Elise smiled easily. “Look at you. 90 degrees and counting.”

  Huge progress, considering where he’d begun. If he could raise his arm vertically, he’d have hope of rotating his shoulder. That would be a miracle.

  Sweat dripped off of him, creating a puddle on the black padded floor. “You don’t feel bad at all about putting me through this, do you?”

  Elise laughed, lifting his hand a fraction of an inch higher. There was an uncomfortable tug—nothing that would cause him harm, but that much more motion. “Nope. Okay. Other side.”

  He did as instructed, the puddle of sweat getting bigger. He’d have to drink a gallon of water after this session.

  “Push it, Brayden. Don’t get soft on me now.”

  “Sometimes I think you hate me.”

  She narrowed her eyes, avoiding eye contact.

  He puffed up his chest. “I know. I know. When is everyone going to get over me and Tilly breaking up?”

  “When people see a wrong, they want to make it right. Stop thinking and focus on that arm.”

  He gained a quarter of an inch. There still wasn’t the pull that indicated he’d reached his limit. His hand began to shake. “I’m doing the right thing by her. She deserves better.”

  “You mean someone who can throw a baseball? That’s funny, because I thought Tilly was in love with you, not your pitching speed.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He dropped the weight. It landed with a loud thud and a clang, bouncing once. “She’ll be happier without me.”

  “Are you happier without her?”

  No. “Happy enough.”

  Elise swiped the weight off the floor. He opened his mouth to explain himself when he saw movement in the doorway. He turned his body, because his neck just didn’t work like that anymore, and saw a flash of long, silky hair disappear. He cursed under his breath, wondering how much Tilly had heard.

  * * *

  Tilly

  Tilly had heard enough of Brayden and Elise’s disagreement to send her running. She didn’t want to hear that he thought he was doing the right thing. That was bull. Elise had it right, and Tilly was glad someone had finally told Brayden. She was also thrilled that it wasn’t her. But she didn’t want to be there to hear him say that Elise was wrong or that Tilly was really that shallow or any other rebuttals. The truth had been laid in front of him. If Brayden couldn’t grab on to it, then there might not be any hope for them.

  She was walking fast and not watching where she was going when she bounced off a hard chest. Big arms wrapped around her back and kept her from stumbling backwards. One large hand splayed across her back. She lifted her eyes to thank her rescuer and blinked several times. Instead of the Redrocks’ red uniform, this guy was wearing Atlanta blue.

  She looked around at the gray walls and realized that she’d strayed into the visiting team’s area of the stadium. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, placing her hands on his chest to create some space. A nice chest. A strong, fit chest. She slowly lifted her eyes to find Rowdy Fuentes looking down at her with a sexy mixture of curiosity and interest. She bit her lip. Dang, he looked sexy when he was confused.

  He smiled and his face transformed into the boy next door. No wonder he was known as baseball’s sweetheart. He dipped down so he could whisper into her ear. “I’m not complaining.” His voice was smooth, like the soft leather of a brand-new ball.

  Tilly giggled as she disentangled herself from his hold. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to let her go.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Tilly. I’m a tour guide, but I think I lost my way.” She leaned closer. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Tha—”

  “If you go out with me tonight after the game.” His hand cupped her elbow and he leaned into her.

  Tilly’s eyes flew open. This was so not happening. The moment was like a dream—every female’s dream. Rowdy Fuentes—in his warm-up gear, tight shirt, and baseball pants—asked her out! Her dad would tell her to tread carefully with any stranger. She had no idea what kind of a reputation Rowdy had off the field. She hadn’t looked past Brayden. And before that, she had followed the sport, but she wasn’t the type to fangirl after the players.

  A familiar set of footprints sounded behind her, growing closer. Brayden. He may be happy enough without her, but she wasn’t happy. She wanted someone in her life. “I’d like that.”

  His grin grew.

  Tilly felt warm, her face was hot. It wasn’t the same kind of reaction she had to Brayden, but they were like chemicals together, always causing an explosion.

  Rowdy’s eyes flicked over her head. She stiffened. Please, please don’t make a scene, she silently begged Brayden.

  Rowdy jerked his chin in greeting and then refocused on her. “I’ll meet you by the dugout about twenty minutes after the game?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll have to rely on you for a restaurant recommendation.” He gave her elbow one more soft touch before waving at Brayden and turning to leave.

  Tilly’s hand rubbed to her forehead. She slowly turned to meet Brayden’s eyes. Instead of hurt or anger, she saw resolution. “You sure know how to pick ’em.” He swallowed once, then again.

  Confused, Tilly threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He lifted one shoulder a fraction. “Pitchers. They can’t seem to leave you alone.”

  She set her mouth and closed it again. “Rowdy’s a pitcher?”

&nb
sp; He nodded once.

  “For the love! I didn’t go looking for him, Brayden. We bumped into each other.”

  “And he asked you out.”

  She bristled. “Yeah. I guess he wants to spend some time with me. It’s nice to know I’m wanted somewhere.” She moved to brush past him, but he put out his arm, blocking her path.

  This close, she could smell his body wash, the slight tang to it making her head fuzzy. He glistened from his workout, his muscles shiny. Oxygen was difficult to come by in the small hallway.

  “I never said I didn’t want you,” Brayden said gravely.

  Her head tipped and her eyes drifted shut.

  “It would have been a lie.” His hand left the wall and found its place at her hip.

  He’d rested his hand there countless times. His palm fit just right over her hip bone, his long fingers wrapping around to her lower back. Her breath hitched and her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. She lifted her chin to meet his gaze and tumbled into his deep brown eyes. He pulled her to him, pressing a kiss to her hair.

  “What do you want, Brayden?” she barely managed to get out. The sensations running through her body were too strong to fight against. She craved him and was barely able to keep herself from cutting off his answer with a kiss. Lifting to her tiptoes would be too easy.

  The question seemed to slap Brayden across the face. His hand jerked away. “I want you to be happy.”

  The loss of contact was jarring, giving life to the pain that she’d spent the last four weeks tamping down. “So you broke my heart?” She had to hear him say it. Not overhear him, but have him look her in the eye and tell her why.

  He stepped backward. “I’m sorry, Tilly. I really am.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Brayden. There’s not enough sorry in the world for this.” She fisted her hand and pressed it over her heart.

  “I know.” He backed away.

  “No!” she half shouted, bringing his retreat to a stop. “You don’t get to walk away from me this time.” She hurried past him, careful not to make contact. The last thing she needed was another chemical reaction going off. “I get to leave you.”

  His face lined with pain, and her heart lurched. What was she doing? Nothing inside of her said it was okay to hurt him. Causing Brayden pain was the opposite of the reason for her existence.

  She softened her rigid shoulders. “Never mind. It’s not …” He reached for her, but she pulled away. “I can’t, Bray. It’s too hard.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  She wanted to scream out, Then why? “You told Elise you were happy enough. Are you really?” She squinted at him.

  “I’ll never be fully happy without you, but you deserve someone who can do all the things you want to do. I’ll never be able to lift my body weight, Tilly.”

  She closed her eyes. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to climb with her? She locked gazes with him. “What do I care? I haven’t been climbing since …”

  “You should be. You should be climbing with someone who can match you rope for rope. You want to raise your children to love the desert sun as much as you do.” He dropped her gaze.

  “Our children,” she whispered. “That’s a future we dreamed up together.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that alone, and I can’t stand on the sidelines in my own family. Especially after being pushed aside in baseball. You belong in a harness. I don’t.”

  So many arguments ran through her head at once. She wanted to convince him that he was wrong, but she understood what he was saying. Understood it in a way that she never thought she could. And in a way, not being together made sense. Which scared the living daylights out of her. There shouldn’t be a world, or a universe, or a reality that didn’t have the two of them together.

  He took a couple steps backward and then paused. With a cheeky quirk of his eyebrow, he said, “Am I allowed to leave now, or did you want to go first?”

  She smacked his arm and laughed at his teasing. That felt right. That was the way the world was supposed to turn. “You jagweed.” There. She’d tell her mom she said it to his face. She’d be so proud.

  He winked, and her heart sighed.

  “I’m going first.” She lifted her chin and flipped her hair over her shoulder. Her attitude included a bounce to her steps that she hadn’t had in ages. Strange, but she felt more like herself when she was with Brayden.

  He mumbled something that sounded like “… good view back here,” but she ignored it and kept right on walking.

  Her steps slowed as they reached the big double doors. The right led to the front office where she needed to go, the left to the coaches and players. It didn’t feel right to just walk away, not after a moment like they’d shared. They’d almost had a conversation. “I’m going out with Rowdy tonight after the game.”

  “I know.”

  She’d have to phrase this question carefully. She needed to know if Brayden still wanted her, if he was at all jealous. But mostly, she needed to know if there was any fight left in him. The Brayden she’d loved was full of competitive spirit. “Is he … is there a reason I shouldn’t?” There, he could tell her Rowdy was a pig who used women and moved on to the next town and she’d break the date without a backward glance. He could tell her the guy had bad table manners and she’d drop him. All she wanted was to believe that Brayden still wanted a shot with her.

  He stared at the wall just over her shoulder and grunted, “I can’t think of any. He’s a good guy.”

  The hope that had lifted inside of her splintered like a bat broken over a player’s knee after he struck out. She almost couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

  “But I wouldn’t be that upset if you just decided not to go.” He glanced at her lips and away again.

  If—and she couldn’t believe she was contemplating this—if Brayden wanted her back, then he needed to fight harder than that, because darn it all, she was worth the fight. And she wanted a man who would fight for her. “Sorry to disappoint you.” She went right, and Brayden went left without another word.

  The bang of a metal door against a concrete wall made her jump. She flipped around to see Brayden stalking away, his hands fisted by his sides. The image brought a smile to her face. There was some fight left in him still. He just needed to find a reason to let it out of the box and channel it into them.

  She smiled to herself. There was something satisfying about the angry hunch to his back. He may not want her to know it, but he was jealous.

  She smiled for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Brayden

  “Again!” Brayden barked at Gunner.

  Gunner glared at him. “That one was perfect.”

  “I could have hit that,” Brayden fired back. “And I have always sucked at the plate.”

  Gunner threw back his shoulders. Newton tossed him the ball and got back into position. “Could it be, Coach …” Gunner threw the ball, sending it just over the outside of the plate. A perfect strike with just a little zing on the end. “That you’re mad at something else and taking it out on me?” The ball came back and he rubbed it between his flat palms.

  Brayden glared. “No.”

  “Because you’ve been awfully testy since I started hanging out with Tilly.”

  “I’m always like this. Don’t think you’re special.”

  “Good. ’Cuz I was thinking of asking her out.”

  Brayden barked a laugh, and a jolt skated up his spine and around the back of his head, making him double over. Newton was at his side, one arm under his to keep him upright. He had to concentrate on breathing until the feeling subsided. Gunner jogged over too, a crease in his forehead.

  Man, he hadn’t had anything like that happen before. He needed to see Doc. He inflated his lungs again, letting the air out slowly as all traces of the jolt disappeared. He blinked. “You’re too late,” Brayden rasped when he could get enough air. “She’s going out with Rowdy Fuentes after
the game.”

  Gunner swore and threw his mitt on the ground. Brayden shook off Newton and said “thanks” as Gunner paced. “Fuentes? Seriously?”

  Newton smothered a snicker at the two of them. “You guys are pathetic.”

  “Shut up,” they said in unison.

  “That son of a—” Gunner cut off before he finished.

  “Strike him out for me tonight, will you?” Brayden asked.

  “No, but I’ll strike him out for me.”

  “I really don’t like you,” Brayden blurted. Then he laughed, carefully. There was no reason to repeat the shooting pain.

  Gunner joined him. “The feeling is mutual.”

  Brayden slapped Gunner on the back. “Keep working on that zing. It’s money in the bank for you. I’m going to talk to Doc.”

  Gunner nodded. That stupid crease was back on his forehead. If he offered to walk Brayden in like some invalid, Brayden was going to have to punch him in the face. Either Gunner was smarter than Brayden gave him credit for or he just didn’t care, because he and Newton headed back to their positions.

  Brayden made his way into Doc’s office and settled in for an exam. Once he’d been looked over, X-rayed, and prodded, Doc assured him that what he had experienced was considered normal and he could expect it to happen again, though over time, the severity and frequency would decrease. His body was learning how to handle the rods in his neck. There were electrical pulses that ran through the spine, sending messages. He’d had a message go awry.

  That was an understatement. He should have told Tilly not to go out with the guy known as a “sweetheart” because she was busy for the rest of their lives. He felt like throwing her over his shoulder and hauling off to a secluded rock somewhere so he could kiss her until her knees were jelly. But what he felt like doing and what he should do were two different things. In the end, his concern for her happiness won out and he backed down.