Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3

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Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3 Page 20

by McConnell, Lucy


  Brayden cringed inside. Now that he was looking at her, really looking, he could see the interest that went beyond friendship. She hadn’t flirted with him since the hospital, but that only meant that she’d switched tactics. He drew in a breath, wondering where the line was between being a good guy and slamming the door in her face. “Hey, Natalie.”

  “Hey yourself, handsome.” She bit her bottom lip. “Mind if I come in? I brought bagels.” She held up a paper bag.

  “I, uh, thanks. But no thanks.”

  “Oh.” Her smile dropped. “Feel like getting out?”

  “Actually, I’m on my way out of town with the team.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Are you sure that’s a smart idea? Flying can cause stress on your injury.”

  He considered her for a moment. She’d said stuff like that before. He’d always thought it was because she was a nurse and therefore cautious, but now he wondered if she’d been purposefully keeping him unsure of himself. He’d already flown and been fine. “I can handle it.”

  She shook her head slightly and stepped closer. “You need someone to watch out for you who can be here.” She moved to touch him, and he flinched away.

  “Actually, I’m doing fine on my own.”

  “Oh.” Her face brightened. “Well, we can always have some fun together.”

  “Natalie.” He held up his palm. “I don’t think you should come by anymore.” There, he’d spit it out. It was empowering to say what he wanted. He watched her for signs that he’d been too blunt and hurt her feelings.

  Her face turned red and her lips puckered out as if there were a bunch of words trying to get past them but she wouldn’t let them. Finally, she ground out, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, thanks for the help you’ve given me. You’ve been great, but I don’t see a need for us to continue this—” He scrambled for the right word. They didn’t have a relationship; they barely had a friendship. “—situation.”

  “Situation?” She yanked open the bag of bagels and threw one at his head.

  He jerked to the side, grateful when he didn’t feel a spike of pain. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  She stomped down two steps. “I spend my off time as your free nurse and all you can say is thanks?!” She turned and threw another bagel. This one swept wide and hit his front window.

  If she’d kept her elbow up, she could have hit her mark. He grinned. Maybe being a pitching coach was inside of him after all.

  She screamed. “Stop smiling, you idiot!” This time she threw the whole bag. There must have been a container of cream cheese inside, because it hit the house hard.

  There was movement down the street, and Tilly stepped onto her porch. Brayden’s face and ears burned with embarrassment. He wished she didn’t have to see him going through this. Hopefully none of the neighbors had their phones out and a MyHeartChannel. Natalie’s antics were viral-worthy.

  “You led me on.” Natalie was crying now. Thick black lines of mascara ran down her face. “I saved you, and you toss me aside.”

  He was NOT going to put his arm around her and comfort her. No way. Besides, that wasn’t how it happened at all. “You didn’t save me. You tried to make me doubt myself so I’d need you.” She was losing it, and one of them had to be stable.

  “I don’t do those things for friends.”

  “Um, you should. That’s what friends do.”

  “I loved you!” she cried out.

  He glanced at her car, wondering if she had a dash cam.

  Tilly’s front door slammed. It sucked that he knew that sound so well. He started walking that way. “Bye, Natalie.”

  She screamed, her hands out like claws. Stomping her foot twice, she got in her car and gunned it out of the neighborhood. Thank goodness they didn’t have any children living on their street and the grandkids were all in school.

  Brayden made it to Tilly’s door just as the smell of tires on hot pavement faded away. He knocked.

  Tilly didn’t answer.

  Didn’t matter. She was in there. “Tilly?” His call was met with silence. “Tilly, I’ve been on the other side of this door enough times to know that you can hear me, so I’m going to talk anyway.

  “There was never anything between me and Natalie. She wanted there to be, and I was too low to stand up for myself, for you, for us. I’m sorry.

  “I’m leaving with the team today, but before I go, I want you to know that you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted and the only one I want from here on out. I love you, Tilly.”

  He leaned closer to the door, listening with all his might for some movement, some sign that she’d heard him. There. A shuffling. Her feet against the tile, maybe.

  His phone beeped to tell him he’d better be on his way to the stadium. He pushed off the doorframe.

  Ball two.

  * * *

  Tilly

  An hour after Brayden’s dramatic confession through her door, there was a knock. Tilly peeked through the curtains to see Maverik. She let out a sigh and opened the door with a smile. “Hi,” she said quietly. Had he seen Brayden on her doorstep? She didn’t want Maverik to think badly of her, and she thought he probably would if he knew she hadn’t opened the door for his son.

  He motioned for her to come outside and then took a seat on her porch. She joined him. The concrete was warm against the back of her thighs, and she sighed into the heat.

  “I stopped by to tell you I’m headed back to Arizona.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t want you to go. Can’t you stay?”

  He shook his head. “I have responsibilities there, too. Friends. A special lady.”

  She perked right up. “You didn’t say anything about this lady before. Plus, weren’t you dating someone here?”

  He laced his fingers together, his forearms resting on his thighs. “We weren’t that serious before I left, but the longer I’m away from her, the more I miss her.”

  “Aw.” Tilly melted against his side. “That makes me so happy for you.”

  “What about you? Any chance you’ll be able to smile again soon?”

  “I smile.” She pasted one on to prove it.

  “Not that smile. The one that says you love my son. He’s torn up over you.”

  She heaved a sigh. “He shouldn’t be allowed to change his mind like that. How do I trust that he’s going to stick to his word? What happens next time we hit stormy seas?”

  “A part of you must still love him.”

  “All of me does. But I’m so angry he treated me that way.” Her hands clenched into fists. She pushed them together.

  “That’s understandable.”

  Part of her fight left because of Maverik’s acceptance of her anger. It was like he swallowed it up by agreeing that it had a right to exist. “So what am I supposed to do? Clover says that forgiveness is harder than staying angry, but I’m swirling in this feeling and can’t get my head above the water.”

  Maverik stroked his thumb along his jawline. “There’s something to that. You could try walking in his shoes. He’s had to redefine who he is—that’s quite the shake-up. But when the dust settled, all he could think of was you.”

  Tilly laid her head on his shoulder again. “How come he didn’t inherit your sweet-talkin’ ways?”

  “Oh, I heard him talking pretty this afternoon.”

  She snorted a laugh, her heart lifting. “That he did.” He’d sent the nurse packing. He’d even said he loved Tilly.

  “Did he say the right things?”

  She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of his shirt. “I guess I need to learn to trust his words again.”

  “That’ll take time. Like building your own team.”

  “We used to feel like a team.” She looped her arm through his. “Can we get back to that?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But if you can get through this, you can get to a place that’s sweeter.” He patted her knee. “The two of you are evolving
, and that always involves pain. Just don’t let the pain win.”

  She squeezed his arm. “I’ll try.” It was one thing to work on getting over Brayden, to forgive the pain and heartache so she could say goodbye. It was quite another to work through it so she could say hello.

  “Look for the good in him. It’s there. That will make it easier.”

  Tilly had always considered herself a strong woman, independent, but she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to look at Brayden and not feel the betrayal.

  * * *

  Later that week, Tilly had just finished up with a tour that had her swearing off children forever when she bumped into Harper Richmond in the hallway of the front offices.

  Harper winked. “How are things with you and Brayden?”

  Tilly thought about the explosive and telling kiss she’d shared with Brayden had on the “set-up” road trip. She couldn’t prove that Harper had worked it so she and Brayden were both on that roadie, but she highly suspected the happily-in-love woman had made it happen.

  “We’re in a weird place,” she answered honestly.

  Harper grew thoughtful. “That explains a lot.”

  “It does?” Tilly scooted closer, caught by Harper’s hook.

  “He explored a few options before accepting the latest assignment. It was almost like he didn’t want to leave town.” She winked. “I thought you were sick or something, because he acted like he didn’t want to leave you.”

  “Wait—he tried to stay behind?” Tilly’s hand hiked to her stomach. “No way.”

  “He cares more about you than his job, but Isaac advised him to take the shot. You don’t ask to sit on the bench—you know?”

  Tilly nodded, still trying to wrap her head around this new information. Brayden was all about baseball. He’d reluctantly gone into coaching, but she’d seen him in the bullpen. He was a natural. And the way he’d gotten through to Gunner, who put up one heck of a fight, was admirable.

  Maverik had told her to look for the good. Prioritizing her over his career was a big plus sign in his favor. She understood why he had to go. She would have told him to leave, even though they weren’t settled. Baseball was different than any other career choice in the world—it was a way of life—and yet the crazy schedule, adoring fans, and stardom all felt natural to her. Being with Brayden was natural.

  Harper’s secretary joined them, ushering Harper away to some conference call. Tilly hardly remembered to say goodbye because her thoughts were so focused on Brayden. If she was looking for some good, she’d found some.

  A small tear in her heart stitched together. She wasn’t better, but it was a start.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Brayden

  The practice facility in Denver wasn’t terrible. There were some ballparks that barely provided the basics. Others went all out for visiting teams. This one was the middle of the road. Brayden was in the cage, working with Gunner. He managed to avoid the guy in social situations—they’d agreed that they wouldn’t be friends—but they still had private practices.

  His phone chimed and he pulled it out to check the message. The flowers he’d sent Tilly had arrived. That was awesome. He’d spent an hour online looking for something that reminded him of her, of the desert gypsy she’d been before the accident. He wanted the flowers to remind her of who she was too. Besides climbing indoors with Gunner, she hadn’t gone climbing at all. That was sad. She was meant to be out there, scaling cliffs and conquering mountains.

  A ball whizzed past his head, practically shaving his temple. “Dude?! What the heck?” he bellowed at Gunner.

  Gunner grunted. “I’ve been throwing grapefruits for the last five minutes and you haven’t said a word. Quit wasting my time.”

  He rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb. “I’m checking on Tilly.”

  “Leave your bleeding heart at the door, will you? I’m closing tonight.”

  Brayden shook his head to clear it. He’d thought about Gunner’s appearance on the mound on the plane ride. “You could confuse them with a cutter.” He dangled the information out there. “No one’s seen you throw a decent one yet.”

  Gunner chewed on the information. He glanced up. “Show me the stupid grip.”

  Brayden jogged over, too excited for this to happen to care if he should be running yet.

  Gunner glared. “Before you get all Field of Dreams on me, I’m only doing this because Tilly said my fingers were short.”

  Brayden paused. “Honestly, she’s too much woman for you. She’d eat you alive.”

  Gunner swore. “Shut up and show me what you’re talking about.”

  Brayden showed him how to move his finger over the laces, just enough to give him more leverage with his middle finger when he threw. “Pronate that finger and you’re golden.”

  “Get out of my way, old man.” Gunner set, waiting for the Newton to take his place. He threw, and the result was a beautiful cutter that sank over the back corner of the plate.

  “Strike!” yelled Brayden.

  Gunner smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Too late.” Brayden bobbed his head. “Now throw twenty more.”

  That night, Gunner took the mound in the top of the seventh with the Redrocks behind by two. The Colorado players and fans were ready for the game to end. There was a steady stream headed up the stairs and to the parking lot.

  Brayden was in the bullpen, in the red uniform he loved, watching from under a lowered brim.

  Gunner twisted his hat and set it square on his head. He took the sign from Barns with a nod. He went into the windup and threw a fastball. The batter let it go. He stepped out of the box, reset, and stepped back in. Gunner wound up and threw a cutter that would make angels cry. The batter swung and missed. Strike two. Gunner threw another cutter and earned the third strike.

  Dustin smacked Brayden on the back. “Good job, Coach.”

  Brayden couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his cheeks. He glanced up in time to see Gunner tip his hat towards the dugout. Brayden nodded in response.

  Gunner’s performance and confidence on the mound changed the momentum for the game and the rest of the series. The Redrocks swept Colorado. Brayden took it as a sign. He was only down by two pitches with Tilly. He could do this.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tilly

  Tilly checked her harness one more time for any sign of red. Red is dead. The carabiner was locked tight. She was as safe as she could be while scaling a cliff face. Her fingers itched to grip rock.

  The September morning was warm enough that she didn’t need a jacket. All she had on was her climbing shirt, the one Brayden had bought her for her birthday. She’d pulled it out of the closet and smiled at the memory of that day. He’d been so sweet, waking her up with a tray of pancakes covered in whipped cream, strawberries, and nuts—even though he hated nuts in his food. He downed eggs while she made a small dent in the pancake tower. Then he left while she got dressed, and they headed up to Zion to spend the morning hiking and kissing. He’d packed lunch, but they had to be back for a game, so they ate the sandwiches in the car on the ride home. When she dropped him at the stadium, he’d kissed her slow, drawing out the goodbye until her foot popped up and she never wanted to let go.

  Floating on the memory of Brayden’s arms around her, she started the climb. After Brayden had broken up with her, she’d slammed the door on the good times as a way to survive. She couldn’t look back without a giant sense of loss.

  A third of the way up, her hand slipped and she concentrated on getting her handholds once again. This climb wasn’t about getting over Brayden; it was about checking in with her heart. Out here, under the sun, with the grit against her fingers and the rock under her toes, things came into focus.

  She wanted to climb, wanted it to be a part of her life. She and Brayden had planned out the hard climbs, working up to those that would have them featured in magazines. She’d even talked about going pro. The drive
for that life had evaporated out of her skin as she’d stared at Brayden on the canyon floor, his neck at an odd angle. But there would always be a part of her that needed to climb. Not push, push, push to the next level, but climb for the sake of climbing. To climb to feed her soul.

  The Redrocks’ private plane had landed in Vegas an hour ago. Brayden would be home within the half hour. Not seeing him for four days had given her some much-needed breathing room. They had a game tonight, and she was working the A-list section. It was highly likely that she’d run into him. If the daily flowers were any indication, he was thinking about her quite a bit while out of town. He didn’t call or text—for that, she was grateful. She wasn’t sure what she’d say to him if he did call. The part of her that wanted to rail at him was shrinking.

  She paused to catch her breath and check her progress. Halfway to the top. This was the point where she needed to evaluate her body. Did she have enough juice? Some of the hardest parts of the climb were still ahead of her. In some ways, she felt the same way about her and Brayden.

  Tipping her chin up, she looked for the lip of the rock and couldn’t see it from where she was. Did that mean she needed to quit? No. She knew the edge was there, that if she pressed forward, she’d reach the summit and have one of the best views in the entire world. She’d feel the sunshine on her face and the wind at her back.

  With a grunt, she half jumped, half flew to the next hold. She would see the climb through. And she’d see things through with Brayden. No matter how it turned out. There was no quitting.

  * * *

  Tilly’s arms ached in the best way possible. When she wasn’t helping a guest order food on the Redrocks’ app or finding the cotton candy vendor for the darling three-year-old in pigtails, she massaged her triceps. The crowd was happy to welcome home their winning team. The Redrocks were officially on a winning streak.

 

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