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Southern Heat (Game On Book 2)

Page 12

by Parker Kincade


  She pushed at him, urging him out of the booth. “Better than you, I’d wager.”

  He stood and offered her a hand. “You want to talk about it?”

  “I really don’t.” She dropped his hand the second she got to her feet. “You shouldn’t have done that, Tyler. I should’ve mentioned what my ex does for a living, but I didn’t expect him to be an issue. Until very recently, he has stayed out of my business. And now, you’ve given him a reason to stay interested.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “I don’t. Not about my business with Roger. It’s personal and I’ll handle it. I can only hope he doesn’t latch on, now that he believes you and I are in a relationship.”

  Irritation hit him hard. “Ah, right. Because being in a relationship with me would really suck.”

  Where the hell had that come from?

  Her shoulders dropped, as though she carried the weight of the world. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Damn it. If he weren’t covered in dried sweat, he’d put his arms around her. He settled for lacing their fingers together. “I don’t want to fight with you, Gabriella.” Not after last night. Fuck it. He pulled her close anyway. He must not smell too bad since she snuggled his chest.

  “Tyler—”

  “Shhh,” he soothed, enjoying the feel of her against him. “Let me get this out. I shouldn’t have jumped into your business. When I saw you sitting there looking lost and distraught, and Roger so smug, I—” A growl came from deep in his chest. “I won’t lie and say I’m sorry for what I said to him.” He meant every damned word.

  “No, it’s okay. There’s no need to apologize. I’m not mad. Well, not at you anyway. I do wish you hadn’t baited Roger with the idea we’re a couple.” She placed a palm against his chest. He loosened his arms, letting her ease back. “Not because I think being in a relationship with you would be horrible, as you suggested. What if he decides to run a story about us?”

  He stared down at her, confused. “So what if he does? You think I give a shit?”

  She glanced around, her voice lowering. “It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out I’m your therapist. I’d never release any kind of information, of course, but what if your boss catches wind and thinks you aren’t staying focused? Couldn’t you get in trouble?”

  Tyler fought to keep the smile from his face. She worried about him more than his own family.

  “First of all, Roger isn’t going to run shit. He doesn’t work for the tabloids. The station he works for won’t allow him to air a story without viable information, which he won’t get. And even if he does, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.” Just a temporary pain in his ass. “Second, no. I’m not going to get in trouble.” He cupped her cheek, tilting her head back until she had no choice but to look at him. “Gabriella, sweetheart, during the season there’s a new story written about me every week. Most of them are total bull. A friend of a friend met the sister of a guy who said he saw me with … fill in the blank. If I worried about every little thing the media said or printed about me, I’d never do anything else.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Look, you’ve obviously had enough testosterone for one morning. If I promise to tone it down a bit, would you let me buy you breakfast?”

  He’d already missed his MRI appointment, so he might as well eat. He’d call to reschedule when he got back to the hotel.

  A delicate brow arched. “Are you going to shower first?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ll shower, then order us some room service.” He waggled his eyebrows. “What’dya say, gorgeous? You’ve got a couple of hours, right?”

  She stretched up and rubbed her nose against his. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all morning.”

  13

  The late afternoon sun still smoldered by the time Tyler pulled into the sports complex. Exhausted and hot, what he really wanted to do was go back to the hotel, take a shower, and crawl into bed—preferably with Gabriella.

  What started as a promising day had quickly disintegrated. His agent, Steve Calhoun, had chewed his ass for ten minutes over the missed MRI. Yes, he knew it was a dick move. Yes, he knew there’d be a fine to pay. He’d do it again in the same situation, but he kept that part to himself. He busted his ass every day. He deserved a few hours of peace with a woman who treated him like a man instead of someone who was broken and in need of fixing.

  The following ten minutes, Steve toned it down a notch to remind Tyler of his expiring contract and the importance of coming back strong.

  As though he’d forgotten. Every game he missed, every day he spent away from his team, reminded him what was at stake.

  After hanging up with Steve, he suffered another fifteen minute rant from Dr. Adlyn—who eventually barked that he would run the damn MRI himself when Tyler came to New York next week. And then, in a rare display of temper, the doc hung up on him.

  Tyler parked and climbed out of the car, shoving the keys in his pocket.

  He hadn’t planned to go to New York next week, but he was in no position to argue. He could work with the team trainers while he was there, so at least he wouldn’t lose any therapy time. He’d lose time with Gabriella though, and that bugged him more than it should. Knowing their time together had an end date gave him a sense of urgency about the time they did have.

  He strolled through the front gate. The sports complex boasted four baseball fields with a large, brick concession building in the center. Tyler stopped there first. The air conditioning chilled the perspiration on his skin as he bought four bottles of water and two sports drinks. The older woman behind the counter was nice enough to find a bag for his purchases before he headed back into the heat.

  There were three games going on, but Owen had sent him a text to let him know where to go. As he approached the fence, Tyler noticed the field was well maintained. Emerald grass stood out in stark contrast to the golden sand of the infield. Call him crazy, but he loved the sights, sounds, and smells of a ballpark. Cheering fans, freshly cut grass, the crack of the bat, the muffled thump as a catch was made—damn, he needed to get back to work.

  Owen stood on the pitcher’s mound, his face pinched with focus. He looked good. Confident. Shifting his weight, Owen’s knee lifted. His arm came back and he sailed the ball across home plate.

  The umpire signaled the strike. The batter was out.

  The small crowd cheered as Owen and his teammates ran off the field. Tyler skirted the metal bleachers to get to the shorter section of fence next to the dugout. Owen spotted him and jogged over.

  “Hey! I’m glad you could make it.” His cheeks were flushed from the sun, even though he wore a ball cap over the mop Owen called his hair.

  Tyler pulled out a sports drink and handed it to Owen. “Hey yourself, punk. I said I’d be here.”

  Owen shrugged and unscrewed the bottle cap. “I know you’re busy.”

  The ten-year age difference had been hard on them over the years. When Tyler went off to college, Owen had barely been in grade school. Then moving to New York and his schedule with the Empire, and yeah, he couldn’t make it to as many of Owen’s games as he’d like. He’d have to see what he could do to change that.

  “Not too busy to come to my kid brother’s ball game.”

  Owen took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem. I bought two. Do you want the other one?” He had bought it for himself, but he didn’t mind buying another.

  “Nah, I’m good. Thanks. Would you mind hanging around for a bit after the game? Some of the guys would like to meet you.”

  “Sure. I’d love to.” The grin on his brother’s face was infectious. Tyler swatted the bill of Owen’s hat, knocking it low over his brows. “Now go kick some ass. That was a great pitch, by the way.”

  Owen beamed as he readjusted his hat. “Thanks. Hopefully,
I’ll throw a few more.”

  “Go get ’em, tiger.” He held up a palm.

  Owen high-five’d him and jogged back to the dugout.

  Tyler couldn’t keep from chuckling as he circled back to the stands. He remembered being young, trying to find his way on and off the field. A kid Owen’s age needed positive reinforcement. Tyler might not be around for every game, but he encouraged Owen every chance he had.

  Tyler spotted Maddie and his parents sitting halfway up the bleachers. Not that they were hard to spot. There were less than twenty people in the stands. Summer league didn’t have a large following of fans. The crowd consisted mostly of parents and siblings of the players. He took the stairs two at a time. His parents stood as he approached, giving him room to maneuver past them to the empty stretch of bench on the other side of Maddie.

  “Dad.” He shook his dad’s hand as he passed.

  “Do you show up anywhere on time?”

  He looked his old man in the eye. “Work.” Ignoring his dad’s glare, Tyler swept his mom into a hug. “Hi, Mom. Sorry I’m late. I had therapy this afternoon.” He squeezed her tight, then held her at arm’s length. “You look great, as always.” Her five-foot-six frame was strong and lean, and her skin had a healthy glow.

  “So do you. I’m glad you could make it.” She hugged him again. She did that a lot, as though she was afraid he’d disappear or something. “It’s been nice having you home.”

  His dad snorted. “If by home you mean the hotel downtown.”

  “Don’t start, Charlie,” his mom warned. “Tyler has the right to stay wherever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

  Tyler flashed her a smile he didn’t feel and kept moving. He sank down on the other side of Maddie, leaving his parents to work it out. His tolerance for bullshit was nil today. He came to support Owen, not to toss thinly-veiled insults with good ole Dad.

  “Anyone need water? I bought enough for everyone.” Tyler doled out the bottles, keeping one for himself along with the sports drink. He cracked the lid on the latter and took a healthy swig.

  “I heard you brought a young lady home with you yesterday.”

  Owen was on deck. Tyler glanced away from the game. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees so he could look at his mom. “Yeah. Gabriella. I talked her into watching the game with us. Can you believe she’d never watched a game before?”

  “Is that right? Your dad says she’s pretty.”

  An understatement in Tyler’s book. “That she is. And she’s a friend, Mom, so don’t get all excited.” Although after what happened at the coffee shop, followed by the hour and a half they’d spent playing in his bed, he was willing to admit there might be more to it than that. At least on his end.

  “She’s the first girl you’ve brought home. I’m sorry to have missed meeting her. Why don’t the two of you come back this week for dinner?”

  He smirked. His mother, the matchmaker. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one. Her schedule is as crazy as mine.”

  “Oh? What does she do?” his mom asked.

  “She’s a massage therapist. A damn good one, too. Specializes in sports therapy. She’s working with me to get my shoulder back in shape.” He motioned toward the field. “Owen’s up.” Tyler turned his attention back to the game as Owen went to the plate.

  “Nice and easy, Owen,” his dad yelled.

  Tyler clapped, adding his own encouragement. “You got this, Owen.”

  The first pitch was in the dirt at Owen’s feet. Ball one.

  The second pitch was a little low, but landed squarely in the catcher’s mitt. Ball two.

  “Good eye, Owen. Good eye.” Tyler clapped twice, impressed at his brother’s read on the ball.

  The next pitch must’ve hit Owen’s sweet spot. He swung the bat and launched the ball into the outfield gap.

  Tyler stood and yelled with the crowd as Owen sprinted around first. He slid into second base. Safe.

  The inning continued until Owen and one other runner had scored, giving them a three-run lead going into the sixth.

  Tyler was focused on Owen as he took the mound. He didn’t realize his sister had been talking to him until she bumped him with her shoulder.

  “What?”

  “I said I thought Devon might be with you tonight.”

  “Nah. He took off for California. A charity dinner or some shit.”

  “Is he coming back?”

  “How the hell should I know? I’m not his keeper. I’m sure he’ll call if he comes back to town.” He did a double-take, giving up on watching Owen’s next pitch. “Why do you care where Devon is?”

  “I don’t.” Maddie stared out at the field.

  Tyler narrowed his eyes as her cheeks flamed red. “Good.” Jesus. Sometimes his sister acted so weird. “I’m counting on him to check in on you in New York, so don’t do anything to piss him off.”

  “I’m about to be a college senior, Ty. I’m a little old for a babysitter, don’t you think? Speaking of New York…” Maddie glanced over at their parents. They had moved farther down the bench to sit with some of the other parents. They appeared focused on the game, something he would like to do as well. She leaned into his space. “I’ve officially accepted the internship.”

  Owen threw another strike and made the first out.

  “That’s great. When do you start?”

  “June twenty-second. It’s a Monday. I’d like to get to New York no later than the Friday before to acclimate myself with the area.”

  “You’ve been to my place before.” During the school year, she’d occasionally take the train from Boston in order to spend a day or two with him.

  “Not for any length of time, and certainly not enough to know my way around the city.”

  Sighing, Tyler pulled out his phone and opened his calendar. “That’s the end of next week. I’ve got to go to New York around that time anyway. If you don’t mind going a few days earlier, you can fly with me.” He maneuvered to the travel app, glancing up real quick to check the game. Runner on first. Two outs.

  He hated missing Owen pitch, but his sister needed him, too. He might as well get this done.

  “Sure. All I do here is fight with Dad, anyway.”

  Tyler looked up from the flight search. “The old man giving you a hard time?”

  Maddie rolled her eyes as though to say duh. “He’s not thrilled about the internship. The whole I’m-not-paying-a-fortune-for-you-to-give-away-your-knowledge thing is ridiculous.”

  More ridiculous than you know, little sis.

  Oh yeah, the old man liked to play it as if he had the big pockets. Tyler ground his teeth before he said something he’d regret.

  “I don’t understand him, Ty. He’s not exactly rolling out the red carpet when I come home over the summers. He’s gotten worse each year. You’d think he’d be happy I’ll be gone for this one.”

  “Be glad he hasn’t tried to charge you rent.”

  “Did he do that with you?”

  “I never stayed long enough, Maddie. You know that. Once I went to college, I never really came home again. Not for more than a day or two at a time.”

  “And you stay in a hotel when you are home.”

  “It’s better for everyone. Trust me.” Once he had hit puberty, his relationship with his dad had turned to shit. A good portion of the blame lay on his shoulders—teenaged rebellion and his inability to keep his mouth shut—but he wouldn’t take the blame for his father’s control issues and piss-poor attitude when it came to his kids.

  “Once I leave this time, I don’t plan to come back.”

  “You’ve got a plan, then?” Not live with him, he hoped. The summer was one thing. Having his younger sister as a permanent roommate was another matter entirely. And if New York decided to release him … damn. So much would change.

  He couldn’t think about that right now.

  “Not exactly. Work my ass off at the museum for the next few months and hope they offer me a job wh
en I graduate? Or maybe I’ll look for work around Boston. I’ve been there long enough it feels like home.”

  He nodded, glad to know she’d at least given it some thought. “Sounds like a good place to start.” He finished the transaction and slid the phone back into his pocket. “I booked our flight. We leave a week from tomorrow. I emailed you a copy of the itinerary. We have an early departure, so I’ll have time to get you settled at the condo before I head to the stadium. I shouldn’t be there long. A few hours, at most. We can do whatever you want the first night. The rest of the week we’ll have to play by ear.” Between meetings and therapy, he didn’t know what kind of free time he’d have. The team would be in town. He made a mental note to send Garrett a text to see if he and Jessa were available for dinner one night.

  “I’ll get you the money for my ticket.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can’t let you—”

  Tyler held a hand up. “I said don’t worry about it. It’s already taken care of. Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet?”

  “Mom knows about the offer, but I haven’t told her I’ve accepted. She didn’t get home from Memphis until this afternoon, so it’s not as if I’ve had a lot of time to talk to her.” Maddie bit her lip, looking uncertain.

  “You’re going to have to tell them eventually, Mad. If you want, I’ll stop by later this week to reassure them you’ll be safe at my place.” Reassure Mom, anyway. The only point he was interested in getting across to their father was his precious wallet wouldn’t be dented, so he needed to back the hell off Maddie.

  He had no reason to bitch since Tyler paid her fucking tuition every year.

  The dirty little secret he and his dad shared. The result of an argument years ago—shortly before Tyler signed his contract with the Empire. Go ahead and quit college, he’d said. That’ll be the last time I throw money away. Let the other two shoulder the burden of student loans. Think about that each time you cash those big checks, boy.

 

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