Out of Left Field

by Morgan Kearns

  He might have if she hadn’t been so distant. When Frankie woke up this morning, she hadn’t offered a good morning kiss. She hadn’t even said the words. She’d only carefully snuck out of the bed and into the bathroom.

  Three damn words. That’s all she’d muttered this morning. Yes. No. Thank you. Okay, so maybe technically four words.

  Dammit!

  Last night, while she slept, he’d wondered how their goodbye at the airport would go. Would she cry? Would he ask her to come home with him? Would they say to hell with their worries and problems and continue living in the moment … forever? Apparently not.

  He’d stewed and planned, and it’d been for nothing. She’d made plans of her own when it came to their future. And those plans didn’t include him. So what.

  He didn’t need her.

  22

  “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

  Xavier glanced from where he sat on the bench outside the PT suite and shook his head at Grayson. Jeff had pushed him through his exercises. Xavier put a hand on his shoulder. “Nah. Just sore.”

  Grayson smiled, clearly recognizing the lie. No way in hell Xavier would ever admit to being sore. “Not too sore to hit the gym for a bit, I hope.”

  Xavier wanted to get in the gym and start putting his muscles to use. He needed to put some bulk back on. Who was he kidding? He really needed to get his head back on his shoulders, and his heart off his sleeve and back into chest where it could go dormant again.

  Xavier rubbed at his shoulder and dropped his gaze to the floor. “As much as I’d love to … I’m not sure—”

  “I talked to Frankie, she said you can work out as long as you’re careful. I’m to watch your weight limits and not leave you alone.” He grinned and when he spoke next his voice had jumped an octave, “Even for a second.”

  Xavier laughed. “Great impression.”

  Frankie usually turned fiercely protective of those she cared about. The thought gave him hope. Since their return from Boston, she’d avoided him, turning over his therapy to Jeff. When Xavier did get a second to talk to her, her responses were clipped, her body tense.

  Whatever! he’d told himself.

  “Come on. Let’s hit the gym for a few minutes.” Grayson headed down the hall. “Oh, and Jane asked me to bring you home for dinner.”

  “Like some kind of stray dog?”

  “No. Like some guy who needs a good woman to take care of him.”

  Xavier snorted. “There’s no such thing.”

  Grayson glanced at him from under his lowered brows. “What about Frankie?”

  “What about her?” He hoped his face didn’t register the excitement and panic that struck him whenever he thought of her.

  “You gonna stand there and tell me that after spending a weekend with Frankie, you still feel nothing for her?”

  Xavier’s entire body tensed, ready to pounce. He stalked up to Grayson, getting right in the face of his best friend. “What I feel—or don’t feel—for her is none of your damn business!”

  Grayson nodded. “Fair enough. But you should knock that enormous chip off your shoulder and at least make it her business.”

  Xavier used his chest to shove Grayson out of his way. He stomped into the gym and went right over to the weight bench. Of course Grayson was right. Xavier did have a chip on his shoulder, but it’d been there a long time and had grown to epic proportions. Every woman he’d ever known, especially the ones he opened his heart to, let him down, starting with the woman who’d given birth to him.

  Xavier shook his head. He was so not yanking those skeletons out right now. He slammed the door on his mental closet and locked the frickin’ thing, throwing the key to recesses unknown. No way would he consider the possibility of Frankie deciding to join the very crowded category of women.

  She hadn’t. She wouldn’t. Not his Frankie. No matter how shitty he’d been to her, she’d stuck by his side.

  The distance she’d put between them smacked of leave-me-alone, and Xavier could take a hint. They’d agreed on temporary and that’s exactly what he’d gotten. He’d allowed the distance, feeling it like a chunk of dry ice in the pit of his stomach. ‘Cause really … like he had a choice.

  He threw himself into his workout, and although Grayson said nothing, he stayed close, shaking his head if Xavier tried to use too much weight. Time passed and muscles burned and he savored the cool comfort of being in his element. There wasn’t much weight on the bar he heaved above his head, but his body didn’t seem to realize it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down into his sideburns.

  Three. Two. And one.

  The weight bar clanked back into place. Xavier lay on the bench for a few seconds. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? This short, nearly weightless, workout had kicked his ass. Discouraged, yet not defeated, he wiped a hand over his brow.

  A towel landed on his abs and he opened his eyes to see Grayson smiling. “You just gonna lay there all night?”

  “Funny.” Xavier stood and used the towel to wipe his face before running the terrycloth over the bench.

  Grayson laughed. “Get up, Old Man. We have a party to get to and I’m starvin’.”

  ***

  As Grayson and Xavier walked side by side through the parking lot, a couple of girls hurried to catch them. They wore Rockets t-shirts, and Xavier found himself wondering whose name spanned their shoulder blades. In his younger days, it’d been a big deal when some chick chose to wear another guy’s name. Not that he felt any kind of possession. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt possessive of any woman. Except Frankie.

  “Are you Xavier?” The girls giggled and Xavier rolled his eyes.

  Grayson chuckled and patted Xavier on the shoulder. “I’ll meet you at my house. Don’t take too long or you’ll have Emma hounding your ass.”

  As Grayson walked off, one of the girls cocked her head. “Who’s Emma?”

  “A very special girl.” He flashed a smile he didn’t feel. “I’ve gotta get on the road. What can I do for you?”

  More giggles bounced through the air, grating on his nerves worse than nails on a chalkboard. The girls turned around to show off his name on their backs, and he felt … nothing.

  “Will you sign our shirts?” They even supplied the Sharpie.

  He did a quick swish and sign.

  “Can we get a picture, too?” the other girl asked, brandishing a camera.

  ***

  Frankie’s heart leaped into her throat. Xavier stood in the parking lot near his car with his arm around a girl. A very young, barely beyond jailbait girl. Her friend held up the camera and insisted she cuddle closer into his side.

  That he only posed for a picture didn’t stop the clawing jealousy from shredding her insides. She stepped back into the shadows, hoping she wouldn’t be seen.

  She’d succeeded with keeping her distance pretty well since returning from Boston. Even as every part of her urged her to seek him out, to finish what they’d started, like a chicken, she avoided him. She’d promised herself she would put distance between them.

  She’d told herself it would be best to stay away from him. Yeah, she was a big, fat, liar-liar. She couldn’t bear to be anywhere near him because she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.

  The two girls giggled while they traded places. Xavier added his signature just above the block letters of his name on her back then smiled and posed for another picture.

  Frankie reminded herself shirts like theirs could be purchased anywhere and didn’t mean anything. But knowing didn’t stifle the desire to rip them off the little groupies’ bodies.

  She watched the photo shoot come to an end and the girls walk away. She breathed a sigh of relief until one of the girls hollered over her shoulder, “Have fun with Emma. She’s a very lucky girl.”

  Frankie’s chest constricted around her heart and lungs. Tears prickled in her eyes. She’d been kidding herself when she thought letting him go and moving on with h
er life would be easy. She’d even convinced herself seeing him every day wouldn’t matter. She’d been such a fool.

  Xavier chuckled and offered a final wave before sliding down into the driver’s seat of his jet-black sportscar. The engine growled to life, deep and menacing like an animal about to be unleashed. The growl intensified to a roar and gravel arced from the sudden spin of the tires.

  Frankie blinked to keep her tears at bay. She didn’t want to leave the job she loved, but seeing him every day wasn’t an option either. Hearing his voice echoing through the corridor or having his file cross her desk or catching a whiff of his cologne in the hallway drove her to the verge of crying every time.

  He’d start traveling with the team this week, giving her a welcome reprieve. Another MRI would show his shoulder had healed then he’d be back full time.

  She climbed into her SUV and started the engine. The radio blared with the slow, agonizing plea for just the right man to come into her life. She dropped her forehead and, closing her eyes, sighed.

  From what she could tell their distance hadn’t affected Xavier in the least. Jeff complained his attitude sucked, but that was simply par for the course. X’s attitude always sucked when it came to PT.

  She toppled into the memory of her conversation with Grayson this afternoon.

  “I’m worried about him. He’s … moping.”

  “Not moping, just brooding. That’s nothing new.”

  Grayson shrugged, but his shrewd gaze told her he didn’t agree. “It’s something else. He’s … different since you guys came home.”

  Frankie busied herself, stacking the papers on her desk. This topic was so not open for discussion, especially with Xavier’s best friend.

  The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Grayson in the doorway. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but you should seriously consider giving him a chance.”

  “I can’t.” So much for unopen topics.

  Grayson nodded, his smile tight, his eyes understanding. He then walked out of her office, closing the door behind himself.

  The ringing of her cell brought her back to the here and now and made her smile. She lifted her head from the steering wheel and fished out her phone. She accepted the call, grateful when the suggestive lyrics about Speedos at the beach stopped.

  “Hey, Chris.”

  “That’s it! I am done with this moping.”

  Making sure her Bluetooth was in place, she shifted the car into gear and headed out of the parking lot. “I’m not moping.”

  Christian snorted. “I’m taking you out.” She opened her mouth to protest and he grunted. “Huh uh, no arguments. We’re going to see a movie and you’re going to laugh your ass off. How long ‘til you’re home?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll be there.” And the line went dead.

  She tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. Okay, so maybe she was moping. That’s what happened when your heart broke into a million pieces. Christian should consider himself lucky he didn’t need a mop to soak up all the tears she kept locked up on the inside.

  ***

  Xavier stood in front of the toy department and bit his lip. He never ventured into this section of the big box store. He should get out more. They had some really cool things. Much cooler than when he was a kid.

  He had to remind himself he shopped for a little girl, but couldn’t stop himself from taking a stroll down all the aisles. Trucks, action figures, kickass LEGOS sets. He’d loved LEGOS.

  Were those Transformers?

  He laughed to himself and picked up a couple of the toys. There was a yellow one with a black stripe he couldn’t resist. He felt like an idiot. Grown men did not buy toys for themselves, but the thought didn’t stop him from tucking the giant box under his arm.

  With a satisfied smile on his face, he found the pink aisles. He wondered what Emma liked.

  A pair of dress-up shoes caught his attention and, like an invisible tether guided him, he stood in front of the boas and dresses and those shoes. His baby sister, Shayne, had a pair just like these, purple straps with pink feathers and clear heels. He smiled thinking of her clomping around the hard wood floors of their home, carrying her Cabbage Patch Kid. She never went anywhere without that doll.

  Two aisles over, he found exactly what he’d been looking for. There had to be at least twenty of the stupid things. He thought of Emma with her shiny brown hair, her deep jade eyes, her infectious smile. Separating out all the brown haired dolls, he created a line of dolls on the top shelf then pulled out the ones with eyes other than green. He’d narrowed it down to four dolls: one with an art set, one with curly hair and overalls, and two of the same style of white shirts and frilly pink skirts.

  He frowned. Emma’s hair was straight, so he removed that doll. Emma liked to color, but Xavier thought the other two dolls were cuter. He shook his head. He’d never picked out dolls before and wanted to make Emma happy. He had no idea how to choose between the other two dolls. They were identical. Then he remembered the ridiculous names the Doll Gods gave them. Ah-ha! The deciding factor. Macy Rose or Greta Lilly? Well, hell, that made it easy.

  He tucked Macy Rose under his arm, retrieved the Transformers toy from the floor where he’d set it during his doll inspection and headed for the check out. The girl at the register smiled when he placed the toys on the counter.

  “Single dad? We see a lot of guys making up for not being around all the time.” She softened the slam with a big grin.

  “I don’t have kids.”

  Her smile widened. “I get off in about twenty minutes.”

  “Not interested, sweetheart.” He motioned toward the toys on the counter. “I’m only here for these.”

  Her hands shook as she rang up and bagged the stuff. He felt a little bad for shooting her down as hard as he had. Hell, he was old enough to be her father and wasn’t it just sad he didn’t have children of his own at his age. He gathered the bags and took the receipt she held out to him.

  “Thank you.”

  She ignored him to welcome the next guy in line. She wouldn’t be leaving alone. It might take the full twenty minutes remaining in her shift, but Xavier had no doubt one of the guys standing in her line would take her up on her offer. He wanted to explain that guys were assholes, unworthy of her, and that she should wait until she found somebody who was before she got intimate with them.

  What the hell had happened to him?

  He knew exactly what had happened, but refused to think of her. He snapped his thoughts down tight and thought of Emma. The doll he’d gotten for her would be perfect. He popped the trunk on his car and placed the toys inside. Damn, he’d forgotten a bow or a card. He considered going back in, but the ring of his cell phone stopped him.

  He answered, knowing this would be the call Grayson had warned him would come. “Hello, Princess.”

  “Uncle Xavier, where are you?” came the greeting. “Mom says we can’t eat until you get here and I am starving clear to death. Did you know I’m five today?”

  He laughed. “I am on my way. I’m hungry too and yes, I did know you’re five today.”

  “Did you get me a present?” Jane’s reprimand came through clear as if she’d spoken directly to him. “Mom says it’s okay if you didn’t. But it is my birthday and it is a par—”

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said into the phone. “You do not have to get her a gift.”

  Xavier was sure Jane’s cheeks bore the reddened stain of her humiliation and he shook his head, chuckling. “I already did. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you then.” He pulled the phone away, but put it back to his ear when she continued to speak. “I’m really glad Grayson talked you into joining us. He says you’re kind of down these days.”

  “Yeah, your husband talks too much.”

  She laughed. “He just worries. We’ll see you in a few.”

  This time the line did go dead. He still did
n’t have a bow or any gift wrap and didn’t feel like braving the store again. The outside of the bag was bright red, the inside white. He took the toy he’d bought for himself—he couldn’t believe he’d actually done that—out of the bag and set it on the black carpet in the truck, then removed the doll. Turning the bag inside out, he slipped the doll back into the bag and tied the handles together. Not bad.

  He frowned. It didn’t look like a present. But there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  Back behind the wheel, he began the short drive to the Pierce’s. He glanced down at the console and noticed the black Sharpie the girls had left behind. He smiled and nodded. The gift would look like a gift once he’d finished with it.

  ***

  A squeal followed the opening of the door. Emma launched herself into his arms. She kissed his cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here. Finally.”

  “Emma!” Jane shook her head. She wiped her hands on her apron and opened her arms for a hug. Xavier shifted the wiggling Emma to his hip and accepted the hug, wrapping an arm around Jane. She kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  Emma slithered off his hip and down his leg. She grabbed the bag out of his hand. “Is this for me? Did you draw all these pictures? Oh, man, is that supposed to be a balloon or a monkey?”

  Jane’s cheeks did exactly as he’d imagined them before, turning bright pink. “That child has no filter. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was your daughter.”

  Xavier laughed as Jane shooed her daughter into the kitchen. He’d learned to love Jane. She was a good woman, the perfect match for Grayson.

  In the beginning Xavier had been skeptical, voicing his opinion on the matter. A lot. He’d had lots of fences to mend and it’d taken years before he’d made it up to Jane. Now he felt like one of the family. An honorary Pierce.