Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3

by McConnell, Lucy

  The media loved it. They had fallen for the underdogs of baseball, claiming that they had finally risen to their potential. Coach Wolfe got the lion’s share of credit. He deserved it. Brayden had told Tilly about their previous coach—he had a way of tearing down the guys and not building them back up. None of the players had been friends outside of the dugout—and even then, it was forced. The Redrocks family had become an official thing. There were even T-shirts that said “Member of the Redrocks Family” in the fan store.

  The season was winding down, and it was great to go out on a high note. They had three games left, and then the stadium would be a ghost town. There were whispers of trades and bringing in new guys. Tilly tried not to pay too much attention to it all. If Brayden was still playing, then she’d be right in the thick of it. That had been the one drawback to dating a baseball player—he could be traded at any time and she’d have to pick up and move. But it was nice knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Heath Darsey ground out too short, and the inning changed. A few of Tilly’s charges got up to leave. She smiled at them. It was impolite to move around when a batter was in the box, especially if you sat behind home plate, as it could distract the pitcher.

  A general murmur in her section drew her attention to the other side of the row. Brayden was down there, signing autographs. Tilly sighed. That’s all she needed to do tonight: crowd control. She jogged up the steps, feeling the bounce in her overly tight muscles, and over to Brayden waving off several fans who were making their way down from the higher seats.

  Brayden was all smiles for the crowd, but when their eyes met, something sparked just for her. She drew in a breath. The stadium sounds faded into the background, and all she could hear was her heartbeat.

  He looked so good. Fit as ever, his broad shoulders filled out a Redrocks polo shirt. His hat was pulled low, and his jeans—heaven help her, he looked so good in a pair of jeans. Her mouth went dry at the sight.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He reached out and brushed his hand down her arm. Turning back to the adoring fans, he said, “Is she treating you guys all right?”

  Several nodded in agreement.

  Tilly blushed and glanced away in time to see a line starting to form. “I’m sorry, folks. This isn’t an autograph opportunity, and the game is still going. Please return to your seats.” She hated sending them back to their seats looking so forlorn. One guy mumbled something about rich people getting all the perks.

  “Excuse me?” asked an older lady with white hair who was sitting in the top row of the home-plate section. “What was that app you were telling us about? My husband wants a Redrocks Dog.”

  Tilly went up a step to talk to her without yelling over those in the row below. Brayden moved with her. He reached over her back for the woman’s phone, his chest brushing against Tilly and sending shivers across her skin. “I can help with that.”

  The woman about swooned. Her hand flapped to her chest and she blushed. “Would you?”

  “Of course.” Brayden tapped on her screen. “Are you from around here?”

  “Goodness, no. We came just for the game.” Her blush deepened.

  Brayden grinned. “Well, you bought the right tickets. This lady is the best host in the park. We’re so lucky to have her.”

  Tilly gritted her teeth. He was being overly complimentary tonight. His happy-go-lucky smile said he’d had a win. Well, if he thought flowers would smooth over everything …

  The woman nodded as if she had caught on to the game. “Of course. She’s beautiful, too—all that hair. Like a regular princess.”

  Brayden caught his chin between his finger and thumb. “I always thought she was more of a gypsy.” He handed the woman back her phone. “I’ve uploaded the app and put in an order for two Redrocks Dogs. On the house.”

  She bustled and fussed. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” Winking at Tilly, she said, “A girl couldn’t do any better.”

  Tilly smiled with clenched teeth. “I hope you have a wonderful time tonight. Let me know if you need anything else.” She reached over and grabbed Brayden’s arm. Her hand wrapped around the warm muscles, and her knees went weak. “Can I have a word with you?”

  He looked at where her hand touched his arm, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure.”

  Before the accident, she would have hauled him into a corner for a make-out session after one of those looks. She’d be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind in that moment. Instead, she took him up to the top of the stairs. People were watching them; some had their phones out. She had to be careful, so she kept a smile on her face. “Will you please go away?”

  He leaned closer, the leather-and-pine scent of him hitting her like a fastball to the chest. Her fingers twitched with the need to grab the front of his shirt and pull him close.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re disrupting the game.” She waved weakly toward her section and then those gathered around hoping for a moment with the ex-pitcher.

  He chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. With a shake of his head, he reached out and cupped her cheek. “I didn’t mean to.”

  She sighed, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. “I know.”

  His eyes sparkled. “I got the job, Tills.”

  Her heart tripped with nerves. She hadn’t heard of any job. Arizona? LA? Where was he going? “What job?”

  “Assistant Pitching Coach for the St. George Redrocks.” His chest puffed with pride.

  She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. That was his win. And he’d come out here to share it with her, probably right after he got the news. “Really?”

  His other hand came to her other cheek. “You’re the first one I told. The only one I could think of when they offered me the contract.”

  She laughed breathlessly, her body shaking.

  “They didn’t give it to me because they feel bad for me, either.”

  She hadn’t thought that for one second. She opened her mouth to tell him so, and his thumb brushed her bottom lip. She couldn’t speak after that.

  “I taught Gunner to throw a darn good cutter. If I can teach that little jagweed, then I can teach anyone.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “I had to tell you,” he said lowly.

  “I’m so happy for you.” She lifted her chin. Their eyes met, and she was overwhelmed with the love pouring out of him.

  “I gotta go to work.” He kissed her head once more. “But I’ll be loving you the whole time we’re apart.” He let her go and walked away, a swagger in his step.

  Tilly stared after him. He’d done well for himself—found a new way to have baseball in his life. He’d climbed a mountain.

  And the first person he wanted to tell was her. He’d shared his success, wanted her to be a part of it.

  That was something.

  She leaned against the railing for support.

  “Honey, if you like it, you’d better put a ring on it,” said the lady with the white hair.

  Tilly glanced down to find her entire section staring up at her. She laughed easily. “Ah, no. He’s going to have to work a little harder if he wants all this,” she teased with a wink.

  Two women clapped for her. A few guys nodded appreciatively. The white-haired woman gave her a shrewd look. “Playing hard to get is a smart move.” She brushed her palms together. “You’re smart. I like you.”

  Tilly grinned. She wasn’t playing anything. All her feelings were as real as the chairs in the seats or the lights blaring overhead. She was working through them the best she could. On the other side was Brayden and his time-stopping kisses. That was enough motivation for her to keep going, even though it was work to take down her walls. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “That’s it, George.” She smacked her husband on the leg.

  He about jumped out of his seat in surprise. Unlike his wife, he’d been watching the game. “What, woman?”

  “We’re getting season tickets.
”

  “Fine by me,” he grumbled. Their food arrived, and Tilly spent a moment showing them how to hook the trays into their cup holders.

  She made the rounds between the fifth and sixth inning, assuring her guests that ordering now would leave plenty of time to eat before the game was over. It looked like the Redrocks were set up to win another game. Tilly’s eyes wandered to the top of the lower section, where she’d caught Brayden watching her before.

  He was there, his arms folded across his chest, his hat pulled low so she couldn’t see his eyes. Her heart pumped at the sight. As good as he looked in jeans, the man could pull off a pair of baseball pants like a champ, and she couldn’t wait for him to be back in the bullpen.

  For the first time, she felt more than determination to do the right thing or see things through. For the first time, she felt hope.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Brayden

  Brayden had been a full-time pitching coach for all of four days, but he felt like he’d been doing this his whole life. Maybe he had, to an extent. Like when he had a meeting with Vito Ramirez, they picked up right where he’d left off with their discussions on the knuckle ball.

  The two of them had been playing around with the pitch for a few weeks before the accident, neither getting very far because they were just playing around. But Ramirez had potential and Brayden was excited to bring it out in him. He’d spent several nights at home, working through videos and reading chapters dedicated to the pitch guys called “the ghost ball.”

  “Looks good,” Brayden called after Ramirez’s final throw. He wasn’t ready to roll the pitch out in a game, but with some more practice, they could work it in. Maybe they’d try it out on one of their big hitters, see what he thought of it.

  “Thanks, man. It’s good to have you back. I missed this.” Ramirez wiped his face and neck down with a towel.

  “Me too.” Brayden fist-bumped him and then headed out. He was due for a grueling PT session that he wasn’t looking forward to. Life was good today, and Elise could make it ugly with just a few exercises. He headed to the locker room to change for his torture session.

  As he passed the PT room, he saw Tilly sitting in a chair, Elise massaging her neck. Her eyes were closed and she was focused on breathing in as Elise worked a knot, and then breathing out as the acids were pushed through the tissue.

  He put his finger over his lips, telling Elise not to say anything. With shooing motions, he got her to slide over, and his hands were soon working the muscles he knew better than his own. Tilly was always a sucker for a good neck massage.

  Elise winked and made herself scarce.

  “Hmmm, Juan. You got all the skills.” Tilly moaned with appreciation. Her lips tugged up at the edges.

  Brayden jerked his hands back. “What?”

  Tilly giggled. “I knew it was you.” She reached up and grabbed his hands. “Don’t stop.”

  He glared but got back to work. He wasn’t going to complain about her teasing if she was letting him touch her. And she was teasing him—which was huge!

  “I should tell you to go away, but this feels way too good.” She moaned softly. “You are almost as good as Juan at this.”

  “I’ll take that as a win.”

  She sighed, but the sound was content, not frustrated.

  There was so much between them that it felt as if he was standing on the other side of the room. He needed to make his way to her. He needed to see if she would let him near.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,” he started.

  “Ss-okay.” She rolled her head to the side, and he ran his fingers down her neck.

  “I’m sorry for so many things.”

  She went still, and he got the feeling that whatever he said next was going to either make or break his chances with her. This could be his third ball, or it could be a beautiful pitch.

  Her eyes remained closed and his touch grew light, caressing. He concentrated on the slope of her neck and the smoothness of her skin. “I’m sorry that I pushed you away. I thought I was saving you from me, from life with a crippled man—crippled in so many ways. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I acted stupid.”

  He went around her and crouched down, taking her hands in his. She opened her eyes and held his gaze. She needed to hear all this; she needed to know these things in her heart. He could feel that need coming off of her, and his soul cried out for him to make things right between them.

  “I should have asked you what you wanted. I should have been there for you. I should have wiped your tears and told you I didn’t blame you for what happened. This one is on me, love. It’s on me.” He patted his chest with a flat hand. “I messed up big time, and I’m so sorry for hurting you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Her scent of cactus flowers was so familiar that it warmed him and set his blood to boil for this woman.

  Her breaths sped up, and as it always did when he was close to Tilly, when she became his whole world, time slowed down.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “It doesn’t mean you forgive me if you kiss me back, you know.”

  She nodded slightly, her eyes heavy and her cheeks flushed. She wanted his kiss as much as he wanted to give it. When their lips came together, color and light exploded behind his eyes. She was warm, her hands eager to dig into the hair at the back of his neck. He pulled her to the edge of the chair and wrapped his arms around her back. They were lost in one another, a mixture of pain and apology, heartache and healing.

  She tore herself away, tears gathering in her eyes.

  “Please don’t cry.” He pulled her to his chest. “Tell me the truth—tell me what hurt the most, and I’ll fix it. I’ll fix them all.”

  She hiccupped, and he could feel her gathering her courage to say words she knew were going to stab at him but had to be delivered. “You made me feel like what we had didn’t matter.”

  “That was the biggest mistake of my life. It matters, Tills. It matters more than baseball and this job. More than anything. You matter more than anything.”

  She hiccupped again.

  “That was why I thought I had to let you go. I wasn’t enough for you.”

  She shoved him, and he gave her space. Space to be angry. Space to feel all that she was feeling. Space to turn him away if she wanted, to because as much as he wanted her, he wanted her to be happy more.

  “But I want to be the man for you. I’d rather work every day at being that good than see you with someone else.”

  She chuckled. “I guess I owe Gunner for that one.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t him.”

  “Rowdy?”

  He nodded.

  She laughed, thinking of the evening spent recounting Rowdy’s failed romances and her broken heart. “He’s a really great guy.”

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  She laughed harder. Her eyes darted to the clock. “I have to go. I have a tour coming.”

  “When can we talk again?”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I need some time to process.” She circled her finger, indicating them and all that had happened.

  He nodded. The I love you was there, but something held him back. Like it would be putting too much spin on his pitch. He wasn’t counting this one as a ball. This was a strike. Which, for a pitcher, was a good thing.

  He was catching up in the count.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Tilly

  Tilly’s head hurt. She thought she’d walked all the elementary schools in the valley through the stadium, but apparently, she’d missed three. And they all signed up on the same day. Add to that the fact that every time she turned around, someone was asking her if she and Brayden were back together, and you got a giant headache.

  She didn’t know what to tell people. Mostly she smiled and said, “We’re working on it.” But she hadn’t seen him in two days—not since he’d massaged her neck, kissed her like a prince, and then lef
t her with too much to think about and not enough brainpower.

  The man seriously knew how to kiss.

  She landed in her Jeep and just stared out the windshield. Brayden’s apology had thrown her for a loop. A good loop. Hearing him acknowledge that he’d hurt her, and that he hurt because of that, went a long way to mend the tears he’d inflicted on her heart.

  What she needed was a good meal, a long shower, and her bed.

  When she pulled into her driveway, she found Brayden sitting on her front porch, his back against her door, bags of takeout all around. She shook her head as she climbed out of the car. “How’d you get home before me?” He was supposed to have a session with Gunner that went well past her last tour.

  “I drive fast.” He took a bite of the Chinese food. “Hungry?”

  “Famished.” She sat next to him, careful to leave enough space that they didn’t touch. Her body couldn’t be trusted around this guy. It had talked her into kissing him, and that didn’t do a thing for her head.

  “You were busy today.” He handed her the open container and dug through the bags for another one.

  She sniffed. Teriyaki chicken and veggies. She relaxed against the door and picked up the chopsticks that were stuck in the box. Already her headache was fading. Brayden opened a new pair of chopsticks for his food. The scene was familiar. They often ate takeout on his back patio, overlooking the golf course. Of course, they’d usually be at a table, but this was nice too.

  “If I have to tell one more kid to dump the dirt out of his pockets and back on the field, my head’s going to split in two.”

  His forehead wrinkled, all adorable-like. “They steal the dirt?”

  “Handfuls.” She ate a piece of broccoli. This box was full of it. No doubt Brayden had been pushing it aside to get to the chicken. “I tell them that there’s red dirt all over this valley. They can get it anywhere.”

  He cocked a smile. His old smile. The one he had when he didn’t have a care in the world except the next game he pitched. “Well, when it’s been walked on by kings …”