He blew the whistle. “Batter up.”
Joshua stepped forward, swinging the bat back and forth. He was a little kid, one of the smallest on the team. Joshua had a nervous stutter and preferred to slink into the shadows rather than get involved. But put a baseball bat in his hands and he could belt that ball better than some of the boys twice his size.
The pitcher wound up and let the ball fly. Joshua released his fury, connecting to the ball in the sweet spot. The batting team cheered as the ball sailed over the top of the center fielder. As Oliver followed the ball’s trajectory his eyes fell on a jogger making slow progress across the darkened paddock in the distance. He squinted, blinked, and then frowned. The jogger looked like Amber.
As Joshua skipped to home plate, already cheering his home run, Oliver made up his mind to go investigate the jogger for himself. He removed his whistle from around his neck and handed it to Joshua. “Great hit, buddy. You did so well, you’re in charge for the next four batters.”
Joshua’s eyes lit up. “Me?”
“Yep. Don’t take any crap from them, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Let me hear you blow the whistle.”
Joshua inhaled a deep breath and made the whistle screech. “Listen up, boys. Joshua’s in charge for next four batters. I don’t want to hear any trouble. Got it?”
There was a mumble around the field.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes, coach,” most of them yelled in unison.
Oliver didn’t explain where he was going, he just took off at full pace, trying to catch up to the mysterious jogger before he missed her. He left the field, crossed beneath a row of oak trees, and reached the walking path that stretched from one end of Brambleton to the other. He spied the jogger in the distance. Their gait was rough, as if they’d hit absolute exhaustion, yet they kept right on going. As he neared he convinced himself that it was indeed Amber.
She didn’t strike him as the jogging type.
When he was close enough, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Amber!”
The person continued on and he wondered if she had music buds in her ears.
He called again, closer this time, but again she didn’t stop.
Oliver was barely sixty feet away when he called her name the third time. She jumped and looked over her shoulder.
He waved, and as she slowed to a stop and bent over, resting her hands on her knees, he strode right up to her. “Hey. I didn’t know you were a jogger.”
She shook her head. “Not.” She huffed a few breaths. “See?”
Recognizing that she’d truly pushed herself to the limit, he rested his hand on her shoulder. “Deep breaths, nice and slow. Good for you. How long have you been doing this?”
She swallowed and inhaled a few deep breaths. “First time.”
“You’re doing so well.” As she tried to catch her breath, he saw a woman who was drawing on some kind of dogged determination, but beneath that was an equally strong veil of insecurity. Not for the first time, Oliver wondered if Amber was in a situation she was trying to claw out of.
“Not really.” Again she shook her head, and he noticed her burn scar was flushed even redder than usual.
“Well, I think you are.”
Amber released her clasp on her knees and gradually stood up.
When she seemed to be coping better he said, “You didn’t come to rock climbing yesterday.”
She gave a little shrug and looked to the ground in a way that hid her scarred cheek.
“I’m really sorry about what I said. It’s none of my business.” He placed his hand on her arm and for the first time she didn’t pull back. His heart skipped a beat and he had to resist the urge to pull her to his chest and hold her tight enough to extinguish her troubles.
For Amber’s sake, he had to be patient.
She puffed out her cheeks and, with a roll of her eyes, let out a long slow breath. “It’s okay. I overreacted.”
Despite the dimmed light, he was once again captured by the color of her eyes. He’d never seen such an intense shade of blue. “So, do we have a truce?” He held out his hand.
When she placed her palm in his, a wave of relief swept through him. When she kept it there, he recognized it as a huge step forward for her.
“We have a truce.”
“Does this mean you’ll be back tomorrow night?”
When she released his grip, it was like a piece of him had been torn away. “As long as I can move I will.”
“You’ll be able to move so well, I think you’ll smack that bell at the top in no time.”
She smiled, and the transformation was spectacular. An unexpected warmth flooded him and the desire to hug her had his heart thumping.
Their eyes met, and for once she seemed to let her guard down. For a couple of heartbeats, he had a feeling she wanted say something. He waited, holding his breath, urging the moment to linger. But as quickly as it appeared, the cloud of sadness crossed her stunning irises and she lowered her gaze.
“Okay… Well…” She pointed at the path.
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get back to Middle League. I’m so glad I saw you.”
A small frown rippled her forehead but swiftly dissolved. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. “Don’t be late.”
“Never.”
He took one last glance at her before he set a pace back toward the baseball field. Just before he crossed the line of trees, he turned to jog backward and noticed Amber was still watching him. He waved, and his heart skipped a beat when she waved back. Spinning on his heel, he picked up his pace and sprinted to his position behind home plate.
He spent the next half hour with one eye on the baseball action and one eye looking for Amber’s return jog. But either he missed her or she took a different route.
After the training session, he curled his arm over his little brother’s shoulder and walked him back to their mother, who was chatting with some of the other women.
She turned to him as they arrived. “Who was that?”
“Who?”
“That person you raced over to.” She pointed across the field.
“Oh, that’s a new client at the gym.”
“Hmmm.” She raised her eyebrows.
“What?”
“You seemed pretty happy to see her.”
He cocked his head and rolled his eyes. His mom had been trying to match him up for years. And ever since he’d hit thirty she’d been in panic mode. “She’s a client, Mom. You know how I feel about that.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He shook his head, hoping she’d drop the subject. Although, if she was as intuitive as she usually was, she’d be able to sense his interest in Amber was more than just fleeting.
Once everyone had gone, he slipped into his car. As he drove the short distance home, he found himself scanning the jogging path for Amber. When he nearly went through a red light, he told himself to settle down.
But his mind still wandered to her. When they were together, he felt on top of the world. Like he could accomplish anything. It was strange—frightening even—because he’d thought his life was complete. Now, though, when he wasn’t with Amber, he felt hollow and alone.
He’d had three serious girlfriends in his life, and several casual dates. His longest relationship had lasted nearly three years. But he’d never felt like Becky was the one. It’d been hard breaking up with her when neither of them had actually done anything wrong. It was just that they were too comfortable. Like an old married couple. They’d become boring. They had no spark, not even in the bedroom. He’d wasted too long to admit their relationship had run its course. Becky didn’t speak to him for nearly three years after he broke up with her, but now she was married with two children and seemed blissfully
happy. Oliver was happy for her too.
Amber was far from boring. Since the moment she’d walked into his gym he’d been drawn to her mysteriousness. But her eternal sadness squeezed his heart. Clearly she’d been through some horrific things. And not just physically—her hurt was deep. And if his gut instinct served him right, it was probably a bad relationship.
Every time he tried to learn more about her she changed the subject. Her sadness came in giant waves and her resistance to discuss it showed how deep that ocean was. He’d have to take his time. Amber struck him as a woman who would run away and never look back if he pushed too hard. But she’d captured his interest… Hell, it was more than that. He was fascinated by her. So as difficult as it was, he was willing to wait.
He parked his car on the street and climbed his front steps two at a time. When he opened his front door, the sound of the television was a sure sign his brother was on the couch. Again.
“Hey, bro. How’s baseball?” Dane didn’t bother turning down the volume.
“Good. How’re you doing?”
“Same as usual.”
That’d be an understatement. Dane had been living in Groundhog Day for years. He was an accountant by day, couch potato by night, and the routine never altered. Visiting his parents was about the only deviation Dane managed. Oliver had given up trying to explain to his brother that he was wasting his life. Dane seemed quite content to while away the hours. He never partied, never dated, and never had friends over. He was as stable as a pyramid, and that made him the best roommate anyone could ask for.
Oliver grabbed a Budweiser from the fridge, twisted the lid, and headed for the bathroom. He scrubbed off a day’s worth of sweat and grime and washed his hair. Once he’d finished, the sound of a woman giggling caught his attention. He wrapped a towel around his hip, grabbed his beer, and strolled back out to the living room.
“Oh, hey, Olly.”
“Larissa! What’re you doing here?”
“Well, hello to you too.” She was way too happy and way too loud. One glance was enough to know she’d been drinking. “You didn’t come to Baxter’s.” She curled her long blond ponytail around her wrist.
“You know I do Kurt’s baseball on Wednesdays.”
She slipped off the sofa and sashayed toward him. “I know that. But I thought you’d come after training.”
Oliver slid in behind the kitchen counter, trying to keep a little distance from her. But he realized his mistake when she came around with him, blocking him off, and rested her hand on the counter, maybe for support.
“I didn’t feel up to it tonight.”
She stepped forward and placed her hand on his chest. “That’s a shame.”
He clutched her hand. “Larissa…”
“What?” She tilted her head and fluttered her eyes at him.
“I think you’ve had a few too many drinks.”
She fell forward, maybe by accident, maybe on purpose, but when she wrapped her arms around him he decided it was the latter.
“Come on, you need to go home.” He tried to unhook her arms from around his back and after a little wrestle, in which he won, she stepped back and yanked the towel from his hips.
“Oops.” She giggled and blatantly stared at his groin.
Oliver snapped his hands over himself. “Righty ho! Give me the towel.” From the corner of his eye he saw Dane watching them. It was probably the most excitement he’d had since his graduation party.
“Nope.” She stepped back and wriggled her eyebrows.
“Larissa, nothing’s going to happen.”
“Oh, you don’t mean that.” She curled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Yes, I do. You’re drunk.”
“Not too drunk.” She pouted her lips.
“Yes, you are. I’m going to get dressed and take you home.”
“But I don’t want to go home. I want to stay riiiiight here.” She jumped up, placing her bottom on the kitchen counter, and opened her legs, inviting him to step in. “Give me a hug.”
Instead, he strode past and went to his room. He tugged on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt. When he stepped back out, she was down from the counter.
“What’s wrong with me?” Her chin dimpled.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” He decided to ignore her question. “How did you get here anyway?”
“I drove.”
That wasn’t good. He placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her toward the front door. She turned to Dane. “Bye, Dane. It was nice seeing you again.”
“You too, Larissa. See you soon.”
“I hope so.”
Oliver didn’t want to risk her falling down the steps, so he scooped her into his arms, and she squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She planted a kiss on his cheek and nuzzled in. “You’re so lovely.”
Ignoring her comment, he crossed the distance from the bottom step to the car in a couple of strides and plonked her down. He pressed the button to unlock the car and opened the passenger door. “There you go, climb in.”
She closed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and Oliver knew he was about to get it.
Her eyes snapped open and the fire behind them was dangerous. “You’re such an asshole.” She slapped his cheek. The blow came out of nowhere and stunned him beyond thinking. He’d never been hit by a woman before. It didn’t hurt; it was a shock more than anything. But he was pretty sure she’d regret it in the morning. He was certain she’d regret the whole incident come morning. She’d always had a fiery temper, but this time she’d gone too far.
Opting to ignore her aggression, he helped her into the car without even a comment.
She was sobbing by the time he slipped into the driver’s seat.
She was asking his forgiveness by the time he pulled up to the curb outside her house four streets away.
Oliver helped her out of the car and led her up to her parents’ front door. She could barely stand, and based on her jumbled monologue she was unable to form sentences either. He knocked on the door and heard the television volume dial down. A couple of seconds later the door opened.
“Hi, Mrs. Rogers. I’ve brought Larissa home.”
“Oh jeez. Thanks, Oliver. Frank, give us a hand.”
Frank appeared from around the corner, running his hand over his bald head. “Shit, what’s she done this time?”
“I think she had a few too many drinks at Baxter’s, that’s all.”
Oliver allowed Mr. and Mrs. Rogers to take Larissa from him, then he said goodbye and shut the door. He hoped Larissa wouldn’t be in too much trouble. After all, she was twenty-eight; she could get drunk if she wanted to.
He climbed back behind the wheel and drove home.
Dane raised his eyebrows at Oliver’s return. But before he got ready for his brother’s grilling, he fetched his unfinished beer from the kitchen counter.
After one long gulp, he plonked himself on the sofa.
“What’s going on? It’s not like you to turn down a woman.”
He rolled his eyes. “She was drunk, Dane.”
“I know, but my question still stands.”
“I’m not interested.”
“She sure is.”
“I know.” He swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I wish she’d let it go.” He shook his head and huffed.
Dane frowned then cocked his head. “That’s not all, is it? Cough it up, buddy. What’s going on?”
Oliver suddenly felt torn. He’d promised Amber absolute secrecy. But this was his brother; he could trust him not to tell a soul. Oliver downed the rest of his Bud in one gulp, plunked the bottle on the coffee table, and turned to his brother. “There’s this new client at the gym.”
“And? What’s her name?”
“Amber Hope. She’s…different.” It was the worst
word to describe her, but he couldn’t pinpoint the perfect one.
Dane frowned. “Different how?”
He pictured Amber’s thick dark hair that she deliberately tumbled forward, hiding her stunning blue eyes. Eyes that reflected intelligence and sadness with equal intensity. “It’s hard to explain, she’s not like any other client I’ve had. She’s shy, insecure, yet incredibly determined. She treats climbing like it’s the answer to a life or death situation.”
“Sounds weird.”
“It’s so hard to explain. She demanded private lessons.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re getting home later.”
“She’s paying extra.”
“So she should.”
His mind drifted to his first glance at her. She’d seemed almost like a child who’d crawled out of a closet after years of abandonment. “Have you ever googled yourself?”
“Nope.”
“I googled her; there’s not one mention of her on Facebook or anything.”
“Is that strange?”
“I don’t know. I googled my name and had a good bit of stuff come up. Pictures of me doing baseball, my business, a few party snaps.”
“Maybe she doesn’t get out much. Did you google me? I probably don’t exist either.”
Oliver chuckled. “That’s a point.” Other than never missing a day at work, his brother was practically a hermit.
He pictured the scar on her cheek. He didn’t know much about burn scars, but the size of Amber’s had him convinced it was life changing.
“You’re frowning,” Dane pointed out.
“Amber has this terrible burn scar on her cheek, right across here.” He drew a rough circle from his earlobe, along his jawline, up toward his nose, and back to his ear.
Dane sucked the air through his teeth. “Shit, that would’ve hurt like hell.”
“I know. She’s always trying to conceal it behind her hair, but the scar’s so big you can’t miss it.”
“How do you think she got it?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, but I have a terrible feeling it was abuse, and not that long ago.”
Out of Mind Page 11
