Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  “Welcome back to Headliners, Meggy. The shampoo chair is waiting for you.”

  Meg followed Stan back to the sinks and lowered herself into the chair. Sitting was getting more difficult with each passing week. She closed her eyes and let Stan’s hands perform their magic.

  “How’s the bun?” he asked as his fingers massaged her scalp.

  “The baby’s fine. We both are.”

  His hands stilled for a second, but then began to move again. “I know I promised to keep my mouth shut, but I can’t.”

  The warm, fuzzy feelings his touch produced, and the fact that he was the only stylist who could make her hair behave, made it possible for Meg to tolerate his insubordination. Even so, she didn’t respond. She didn’t have to encourage the conversation.

  Of course, Stan never needed encouragement to speak his mind. His fingers made strong, sure strokes over her scalp as he clucked his tongue. “Matty’s not happy, Meg. You might even say he’s miserable.”

  “That’s too bad.” It seemed like the right thing to say, even if a part of her was glad he, too, was suffering. She stubbornly ignored the fact that she could put and end to both of their pain by picking up the phone.

  Stan continued both the conversation and the fancy finger work. “The thing is this should be the happiest time of his life. He just got called to the majors. He’s playing for the Rockies—my favorite team because they have the best color palette in baseball—but he’s not enjoying a single minute of it.”

  Meg bit back the giggle she knew was inappropriate. Leave it to Stan to pick his team by the colors they wore. But his reason for liking the Rockies wasn’t the point. “I’m sorry about that, but do you think I’m having any fun in Flagstaff, alone?”

  He released her head. The next thing she knew, his finger was floating above her face, waggling at her. “You wouldn’t have to be alone if you’d talk to Matty, dear. He wants to share this experience—his whole life—with you.”

  Each finger wag stabbed at Meg’s heart. She saw every move as an accusation: She was being unreasonable, stubborn—bitchy, even. Maybe Matt hadn’t intended to leave her sitting in the doctor’s office, wondering if he was dead or alive. Maybe he hadn’t meant it as him picking baseball over her.

  Matt wasn’t Tim. He was nothing like the immature jerk who’d fathered her unborn child. Maybe she had overreacted when she lumped them together.

  It hurt to admit, even to herself, she’d reacted more like a child than the mature, responsible woman she claimed to be. After so stubbornly insisting that she could take care of herself, she hated to admit she’d made not just one mistake, but several, in the attempt.

  But it was time. Her future—and the Pea’s—was at stake.

  She bolted upright in the salon chair and water cascaded to the floor. “Stan, you’re right.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “I’m going to give Matt a chance to explain.”

  Stan clapped. “Bravo, Meg.”

  “And this time, I’ll listen.”

  A girl owed the man she loved at least that much.

  ****

  Matt leaned against the headboard of a double bed in yet another hotel room, waiting for the darkness that accompanied sleep. He knew he needed to get some shuteye. In the unlikely event he scored some playing time in tomorrow’s game, he wanted to be ready. Two weeks into his stint with the Rockies and he’d only seen two innings so far.

  He reminded himself to be patient. His time would come, just as soon as he proved himself to his new team. Until then, it was bench warming and sharing a room with Tod of the buzz-saw snores.

  Sighing, Matt reached for the earplugs he’d picked up at a Walgreens near Wrigley Field after his first night as Tod’s roommate. He shoved them in place and scrunched down under the covers, wishing their room wasn’t colder than the walk-in cooler at his uncle’s drive-in. Tod said he had to keep it extra chilly because of his sinuses.

  He wished—not for the first time—he had a room to himself, the way he had with the Condors. But as the new guy, he hadn’t earned that luxury. Besides, Matt figured he could learn a thing or two from Tod, the starting catcher. If only Tod would share.

  Karma had to be laughing at him right about now. Tod was treating him the way he’d treated Jim. More like an adversary than a teammate.

  Matt turned toward the window and closed his eyes. Sleep was slow in coming, though. His mind kept straying back to times spent in another hotel room—much more pleasant times, with Meg.

  Her name brought on another sigh. Meg was still avoiding his calls. He’d hoped a talk with Stan would bring her to her senses, but her appointment had been over for hours and still no word from either her or Stan. He hoped they were off somewhere together and had just lost track of time.

  Matt groaned. “Get real.”

  What, was Stan going to take her clubbing? When he pictured a pregnant Meg holding court on the dance floor, he wasn’t sure whether to chuckle or start to worry. Why worry? She had more sense than to put the baby in danger.

  Not that boogying down with Stan and his friends was dangerous. And not that he should care what Meg did, anyway. She was, as she kept reminding him, a grown woman who knew how to take care of herself. Besides that, Junior wasn’t even his.

  The hell of it was, he did care—about both Meg and the baby. He’d been with Meg for months now, through morning sickness, strange food cravings, Junior’s first kick. He already thought of the kid as his, even though that wasn’t official yet.

  At this rate, it might never be.

  Matt digested the disappointment that came with the realization. Given how much he’d squawked about not wanting to be a father when he first found out Meg was expecting, he was surprised by how shitty it felt to know he might never know Junior.

  He closed his eyes again and ordered himself to get some sleep. He’d need it. They were facing the Dodgers at noon.

  ****

  Meg’s gaze darted around the cheap seats at Dodger Stadium as she tried to remember where she and Stan were sitting. Going to the bathroom ten times an hour was for the birds! She finally spotted him several rows from where she stood, chatting with a dark-haired guy wearing a Dodgers cap.

  She walked—or maybe she should say waddled, since it seemed she was getting bigger every day—up to him and lowered herself into her seat. “No fraternizing with the enemy, now.”

  Stan pooh-poohed her playful warning. “Matty wouldn’t dare begrudge me a conversation with the Dodgers’ number one fan.” He gave her a pointed look. “Besides, you shouldn’t be thinking about me. You need to consider what you’re going to say to him when you see him after the game.”

  Unwilling to let reality spoil her good mood, Meg giggled. She was glad to be enjoying good company and an exciting game, with the Rockies and Dodgers tied at one in the third. It was the first time she’d felt anything resembling pleasure since Matt had chosen Colorado over Flagstaff and she’d responded—too hastily— by cutting him out of her life.

  It occurred to her then that flying uninvited to L.A. might not have been her best idea ever. What if, after the silent treatment she’d been giving him, Matt didn’t want to see her?

  With the way he’s been calling you? Not likely.

  She rolled her eyes. Her confidence bordered on arrogance. Matt’s calls had tapered off in the last week or so, after all. He was down to calling just twice a day. Either he was busy adjusting to the new job or he was ready to tell her to kiss off.

  She’d actually listened to the message he’d left yesterday afternoon, after her appointment with Stan. It didn’t sound like he was fed up with her yet, thank goodness.

  But knowing she’d see him soon enough, she’d resisted the urge to call him right back. She wanted her visit to be a surprise. Warning Matt she was coming would only give him a chance to avoid her. She wouldn’t blame him a bit for wanting to give her a taste of her own medicine. Then again, maybe he was more mature than she was.
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  A nudge from Stan jolted her out of her thoughts. “Look who’s coming out of the dugout.”

  Meg followed Stan’s pointing finger and saw Matt emerging from the shadows. She grinned. “About time. That starter looks like he could use a break.”

  “I’m just glad Matty’s going in. He hasn’t seen a lot of playing time.”

  The guy in the Dodgers cap asked, “You know that guy?”

  Stan nodded, his voice proud. “That’s my older brother.”

  “That’s cool.”

  ****

  “…Matt Thatcher!”

  A shiver raced through Matt when he heard his name announced over the ballpark PA system. He doubted that would ever get old.

  He took his place behind home plate and assumed his stance. He was focused on the task at hand, well aware that this was his big chance. The manager just put him in during a tie game. Sure, it was only the third inning, but that still showed a tremendous amount of confidence in his ability to perform.

  He didn’t intend to let the team down.

  When Tod subbed back in three innings later, Matt had accomplished his goal. He’d made a tag at the plate to keep a Dodgers runner from scoring the go-ahead run. He’d been no slouch at bat, either: A single and a sacrifice fly that had secured the Rockies a two-run lead.

  “Not bad,” he muttered under his breath as he left the field. He was proud of his accomplishments, more so since it was the first time he’d gotten in a game for a decent length of time.

  When he entered the dugout, the manager gave him a pat on the back. “Nice work, Thatcher.”

  “Thanks.”

  The Rockies held on to the lead, winning 4-3. Matt reveled in the fact that he’d helped the team notch a win. A fantastic feeling! No other in the world was quite like it.

  He showered up and got dressed, listening to everyone make post-game plans. He turned down Tod’s invitation to join a group of guys at a local watering hole. Even though he didn’t want to earn a rep for being antisocial, he looked forward to catching a few hours of shuteye uninterrupted by Tod’s snores. There’d be plenty of time to party later, anyway.

  As he left the locker room, he checked his cell phone. Four missed calls? He hoped one of them was from Meg.

  He scrolled through them. Damn. All from Stan. Sighing, he dialed his voicemail.

  “Matty, where are you?” Click.

  The next: “I’m waiting.”

  “Yo, Matty. I’m warming a seat at Dodger Stadium and the cleaning crew is getting restless. How long can it take to shower and change?”

  Stan was here? That was a pleasant surprise, even if it meant no nap. Now that they were in different states, he didn’t see his brother nearly often enough. He quickened his pace as he went on to the next message.

  “Matt, they’re going to kick Stan and me out of here pretty soon. Are you coming to rescue us from the big, bad security guard or not?”

  That wasn’t his kid brother. After weeks of silence, Meg’s voice was like soft rain on drought-parched desert. He hoisted his gear bag onto his shoulder and sprinted the rest of the way to the field. He scanned what was left of the crowd and saw two figures moving down the stairs toward him.

  He squinted into the sunlight. Yep. That was Stan, rocking the Rockies’ team colors. He wore a purple Rockies shirt and cap with black shorts. A turquoise scarf was tied around his neck.

  Following behind him was—holy hell! Meg had sure gotten big in the last couple weeks. Junior had to be growing by leaps and bounds.

  He dropped his bag onto the grass of the outfield and raced up the stairs to meet them. When he got close, Stan shouted, “Surprise!”

  “It sure is.”

  “Yes, well, when I heard you guys were playing the Dodgers, I thought, ‘L.A.’s not far from Phoenix.’ And I asked Meg to come along.”

  Matt eyed his wayward woman. God, she looked good. He knew he should still be angry at her for giving him the silent treatment, but all he felt was relief that she was finally ready to speak to him again. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He also had an insane desire to tumble her into the nearest bed. They had a lot of catching up to do. “I’m surprised you agreed.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. “I wasn’t sure you’d still want me around.”

  He folded her into an embrace. Hugging her was more difficult that it used to be. “Of course I do. I’ve missed you.”

  From behind him, Matt heard Stan clear his throat. “I’ll be downstairs in the stadium bar and grill. There’s a plate of cheese fries calling my name.”

  He nodded and waved his brother away. “We’ll join you as soon as we can.”

  As Stan sashayed off, he hummed “I Think We’re Alone Now.”

  “Meg—”

  “Matt, I—” she began at the same time.

  He chuckled. It seemed time apart hadn’t done a thing to destroy their ability to be on one wavelength. “Ladies first.”

  “No, I think you deserve a chance to say what you’ve been trying to tell me for the last few weeks.”

  Matt’s brows shot up. “You mean you didn’t listen to my messages?”

  A smile played on her lips as she shook her head. “Not until yesterday.”

  He’d suspected as much when she hadn’t called even once—and a part of him didn’t blame her. He had flaked out on her, after all, even if he didn’t do it consciously. “I can’t remember every detail of all those messages.” Mindful that she shouldn’t be on her feet for too long, he urged Meg into a seat and took one beside her. “Here’s the gist: I have no excuse for not calling you to let you know I wouldn’t make your appointment and I’m sorry. I forgot. From the minute Sam issued his invitation to when I called you, my shot at the majors was the only thing on my mind.”

  ****

  Meg took a deep breath and nodded, indicating her acceptance of his apology. Now, it was time for her to ask for forgiveness. Her sins were much more egregious than his.

  She reached for both his hands, holding them on what was left of her lap while she searched for a way to begin.

  “When you said you were in Colorado, all I could think was that history was repeating itself—another guy running off after another useless dream of turning pro.” She gestured at her surroundings. “I should have had more faith in you, Matt.”

  Matt was guarded. “You should have. I’m nothing like your ex, sweetheart.”

  “I know that!” When Matt arched a brow in doubt, she rushed on. “At least I do now. No—I’ve always known, even if I lost sight of the fact for a while. You have more talent and integrity in your left nut than Tim does in every ounce of his being.”

  He burst out laughing, the sound loud in the quiet of the now-empty stadium. “My left nut? What about the right?”

  She giggled, too, glad to alleviate the conversation’s serious tone. “That one I’m not so sure about.”

  Passion flickered in his eyes. “We’ll have to refresh your memory, then.”

  Meg’s nipples tightened as Matt’s gaze touched them. Her breath quickened and her entire body cried out for his touch. Why had she so stubbornly denied them both the pleasure of being together?

  She refocused on the task at hand: Setting things right with the man she loved.

  “You know I’d love nothing more—but we have unfinished business.”

  “Sure we do. You just insulted a part of me that’s very fond of you.”

  She rolled her eyes. Maybe “left nut” had been a poor choice of words. Still, she was glad it had lightened the mood. “Relax, Matt. Your manhood’s not in question here. I know you can satisfy me.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Our jobs aren’t within commuting distance—especially with you in Colorado.”

  He grinned. “It’ll be a challenge for sure.”

  “So what do we do?”

  His reply was swift. “I didn’t think you wanted me to make plans for you. I wouldn’t want you to accuse me of taking ov
er your life.”

  She hid her smile. He was a fast learner, all right. “You’re right. But if you’re in Colorado and I’m in Flagstaff, we can’t exactly be together.”

  “Want to hear my thoughts?”

  “Please.” She was glad he asked instead of just giving them to her. It proved he was trying—hard—to avoid controlling her every move.

  “The way I see it, you have two options: You can stay where you are and we’ll see each other when we can or you can start looking for a job in Denver.”

  “D-d-denver?”

  “Well, sure. I’m part of the Rockies now. Where else would we live?”

  She considered that for a moment and then grinned. “Was that a proposal?”

  He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand and jumped out of his seat. “Hold on a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  He sprinted back to the field, where he picked up his bag. A minute later, he was beside her again, rummaging around in one of its side pockets.

  “Close your eyes.”

  This was one time Meg didn’t think twice about obeying. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for further instructions.

  But he didn’t say a word. Instead, he took her by the hand. “Meg Malone, I love you. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  Something heavy settled on her ring finger. She was stunned speechless. Here she’d been worried Matt wouldn’t even want to see her, and he was proposing they spend the rest of their lives together.

  When she remained silent, contemplating a future with Matt, his voice prodded her. “You can open your eyes now.”

  She did, glancing from Matt’s relaxed expression to the large diamond ring that adorned her finger and back.

  “That’s too much, Matt.”

  “Just consider it a small token of my feelings for you.”

  She looked again. That thing had to be more than a karat. She felt like a red carpet-ready movie star sporting a rock this size. “Small? It had to cost a fortune!”

  “You’re worth it.” He lifted a shoulder. “Besides, when you sign a multi-million-dollar contract, you have to find something to do with all that cash.”