by Elley Arden
Shit. She was going to lecture him, but he could handle the lecture just as long as she didn’t get out the Play-Doh and start looking for hidden meanings in his sculptures.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Having a psychotherapist for a sister-in-law was … interesting. “You’re right. I don’t want to watch it.” Conceding was his best bet at peace.
Still, Maggie sat, and Grey caught a glimpse of his nephew. He was more comfortable around dogs, but he had to admit, holding Braydon was pretty cool. The kid’s pale pink face wrinkled, and he squealed like a tiny pig. The sound made Grey smile. But then Maggie lifted her shirt and offered the kid her breast, and that made Grey look the other way.
“Have you thought about what happens after baseball?” she asked.
After baseball? As if there were such a thing. Baseball was like God — it always was, and always would be. But the more Grey sat with her words, the more he understood what she was asking, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t had these conversations with Jordon before. “My investments are strong. Jordon and I have talked about broadcasting, restaurants, a bunch of business opportunities. Basically, I’ll pick one.”
“Huh.” She sort of stared off into space while the baby made smacking sounds that made Grey’s skin crawl. “It doesn’t sound like any of it elicits much excitement in you.”
He shrugged. “If I need excitement, I’ll sky dive.”
Or spend the afternoon in bed with Nel. That would be his preference.
Dreams of Nel were keeping him up at night, making him miss her more each day. He thought limiting his contact with her would help keep her off his mind so he could think about what came next as far as his career was concerned. But thinking about what came next didn’t change anything that was happening now. He still couldn’t feel what he was supposed to feel. He could barely keep a baseball in his resting hand. Rehab might help, but he was days away from it, and weeks of grueling work would have to pass before he could know if any of it made a damn bit of difference.
“Tell me about Nel.”
Grey side-eyed Maggie. Jordon couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it came to his wife. She had him under one hell of a spell, which Grey was normally thankful for, considering without her Jordon may have never picked up the phone and prompted this reconciliation.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.
She nodded. “Usually when we don’t want to talk about something it’s a pretty good indicator we should.”
Bah! He threw up his proverbial hands. He should’ve known Jordon dragging him to North Carolina was an excuse for one big shrink session. “Fine. She’s a realtor who found my dogs, returned them to my house, and helped me fix up the place.”
Maggie nodded again. “She’s staying at your house with the dogs, right? Something about the way she lingered on the word your made him sit up and pay closer attention to her words — and his.
“Yep. They took a liking to her after she found them and with all the time she spent with them.”
“And how about you? Did you take a liking to her what with all the time you spent together?”
“Jesus, Maggie, this is stupid.”
She laughed. “You are so much like your brother.”
That made him smile. After everything in his past and through everything in his present, at least he had Jordon. It felt good to have family to count on. But then suddenly, that thought and Maggie’s proximity and companionship made him miss Nel more fiercely than before.
Grey closed his eyes and took a swipe at his clammy forehead. “She loves me,” he admitted for no damn good reason.
“Do you love her?”
It was the one question he’d been avoiding. “Maybe — I don’t know. It feels so different than when I was with Lindsay.”
“How so?”
He should’ve hated Maggie’s intrusive questions, but it felt so good to talk about Nel — the next best thing to seeing her. He released a long, slow breath out his mouth, letting his shoulders fall and his head sink deeper into the pillow. “With Nel, it’s easy. We just sort of go together. She calls me on my shit. I call her on hers. We work side-by-side for hours with nobody blowing up.” His eyes were closed, and he was seeing her, remembering everything, and his lips stretched into the biggest smile. “See? She makes me smile … even when I have no reason to.”
“That’s great.” At the sound of Maggie’s voice, Grey opened his eyes and watched her lift Braydon onto her shoulder. “She sounds lovely.”
She sounded perfect to Grey. And in that moment, he knew exactly how to answer Maggie’s original question: Have you thought about what happens after baseball? He’d had a great baseball career — and who knew? Maybe he would again — but he’d never had a great family life.
Nel was his best shot.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Nel dragged the garbage cans to the curb in front of Grey’s house, lamenting the fact she was still hanging around, splitting her time between her condo and here. Why? She tightened her grip on the handle, focusing on the burn, not wanting to answer the question.
The god-awful sound of the plastic scraping cement made her cringe as she walked into a gust of chilly wind. When the world around her quieted, she noticed she wasn’t alone. A wrinkled woman, dressed in nothing but a housecoat and walking with a cane, pulled a recycling bin to the curb of the house next door.
“Let me help with that,” Nel called, starting off toward the woman with a little jump.
“Oh, I think I can manage.” A sweet smile further wrinkled her face. “It’s the only exercise I get these days. By the looks of me, you wouldn’t know I used to run marathons, but I’m not doing half-bad for ninety.”
“Ninety!” Nel reached the woman’s side and grabbed the opposite corner of the bin. “That’s amazing. You look great.”
“Thank you.”
They deposited the bin on the curb, and the woman turned to Nel. “You’re working hard on that house.”
“Yes.” Nel shot a look over her shoulder at Grey’s transformed home. “I am.”
“It’s good to see young blood move into the neighborhood. The circle of life, you know?”
The assumption pinched at Nel’s heart. “It’s not my house. I’m … ” What came next grew harder every day. What was she to Grey? His lack of recent communication chipped away at her hope for the impossible. “I’m the realtor,” she said, lifting her chin to exaggerate the pride in her profession rather than the ache in her heart. “The house should be on the market very soon.”
The older woman’s penciled-on eyebrows furrowed. “You do a lot more than the average realtor.”
Nel chuckled. “Because I’m not the average realtor.” If the woman only knew how much more she’d done for this house and this owner …
“You ever hear the saying the Lord works in mysterious ways?” The woman momentarily raised her eyes to heaven.
“My grandmother used to say it.”
“Smart woman.” Again with the wrinkle-producing smile. “I said it because I just got off the phone with my sister in Florida, and I’ve decided to move in with her. Who knows how much time I have left, and why shouldn’t it be spent somewhere warm? The only thing holding me back is this house. You interested in helping me sell it?”
Was Nel Parker interested in listing any property, let alone one like this? She looked at the pristine Colonial, spanning a double lot. “I’d kill to list it.” She laughed, just to make sure she didn’t scare the woman off with the macabre humor.
“How about you come by tomorrow morning around eight for coffee and a tour?”
“It’s a date,” Nel said, smiling.
She stayed smiling all the way to work. It was a nice change from sadness as her default emotion. Surely this was a sign her heart would go on after Grey
was completely gone from her life. She didn’t need him to be happy. But that didn’t change the fact she wanted him.
Well, people didn’t always get what they wanted, did they? She couldn’t help think about how badly she’d wanted to be partner at The Fortune Agency, and look how that worked out.
Around noon, her smile was a distant memory, especially when financing fell through on a property set to close in one week.
“I’ll see what I can do, Mrs. Ring. Another lender may have the same aversion to self-employment income, but I’m not giving up on this closing. I have a few connections at a couple local banks. Let’s give them a try.”
When the call ended, Nel turned her attention to Rena, who’d been waiting patiently, an anxious look on her face. “What? Dear God, you look like you’re going to burst.”
Rena exploded from her chair with a shriek. “Will was arrested.”
“What?” Nel yelled, with an intensity that burned her face.
“Mortgage and wire fraud or something like that. It’s all over the news.” She skipped back to her desk and hunched over her laptop. “Come. Come.”
Nel couldn’t feel her feet touching the ground as she made her way to Rena’s desk. All she could think or say was, “Oh. My. God.”
Rena read an article aloud, and when she’d finished, Nel was speechless. Will had been submitting fraudulent mortgage applications to lenders for years, which meant Will was engaging in illegal business practices right under her nose.
His partner John Evans had been arrested, too. That could’ve been Nel. Not that she would’ve knowingly done something illegal, but what if Will brought her on as partner and kept the fraud from her? She’d be ruined by association, just like all the agents who were about to lose their jobs when the agency closed.
“Do you know what this means?” Rena asked, gripping Nel’s limp hand. “You won! The battle of Will-versus-Nel is over. He can’t compete from behind bars.” Her laugh was maniacal.
Nel couldn’t enjoy the personal satisfaction, because the business woman kicked into gear. “I was thinking it meant hundreds of acres of prime Pittsburgh real estate is about to be without a listing agent.”
“That too!” Rena squealed. “You better get to work, girl.”
Nel shuffled back to her desk, the chaos of the moment playing out in her head. Will was arrested. The Fortune Agency was closing. Holy shit. What to do first? Who to call? Could she waltz up the front walk of former Fortune Agency listings and offer to be their new agent? Was that like ambulance-chasing?
“You know what else this means?” Rena’s voice filtered through the mental noise. “Next year, Broker of the Year belongs to you.”
It could happen. It was in reach. After all these years, she saw an opening. Winning sounded so good. Winning would feel good, too; owning the title, walking up to the podium, giving an acceptance speech without Will in the room.
If only it wouldn’t feel so bad not having Grey there either.
• • •
“You told me rehab is rehab wherever I do it as long as the therapists are qualified.” Grey stared at the smoky lake behind Jordon’s house and snuggled deeper into his hooded sweatshirt. Just because he knew he wanted to be with Nel didn’t make the logistics of being with her fall neatly into place. He still had a less-than-functioning right hand and a baseball career to think about.
“I told you that before I knew you were asking because you were thinking about going back to Pittsburgh.” Jordon adjusted the stocking cap on a sleeping Braydon’s head. “I thought you were asking because you wanted to stay here with us for a while, but now that I know you’re talking about going to Pittsburgh, I’m telling you Nashville is the best place for you to rehab. You’ll have access to good therapists there.”
“Let’s be honest here. Is it that you can’t arrange rehab in Pittsburgh because there aren’t any good therapists, or you won’t arrange it because you think Nel is a gold digger?”
Jordon looked up from the baby in his arms and stared across the patio table at Grey. “I don’t know her well enough to know if she’s a gold digger. Do you?”
Did he? Was two months of knowing someone long enough to know everything about them?
Grey thought about what he did know about Nel. He thought about her fiercely independent streak and the way she held him off until he thought he might explode from wanting her. He thought about how she went after what she wanted and how she gave herself completely when she finally let him in. He thought about her gut-wrenching honesty when she told him to take Will Fortune’s deal — even though it would crush her — and again when she told him she loved him … even though he was in no shape to say it back.
And then he thought about her family and the way they rallied around each other like nothing he’d ever seen before, but something he was desperate to be a part of. As far as he was concerned, women didn’t get better than Nel Parker. Maybe he didn’t know everything about her, but he knew enough.
If he could just find the words to make Jordon understand, getting to Pittsburgh would be a lot easier.
Grey shook his head, and thoughts fell into place. “I knew Lindsay for ten years and thought I knew her as well as anyone could know a person, but apparently not. I had no clue she was a cheater.”
“Exactly,” Jordon said, nodding and then returning his attention to his son.
Okay, so that was the wrong approach.
Grey took a deep breath and regrouped, refusing to be frustrated. He didn’t need Jordon’s blessing. After all, Jordon worked for him. If Grey wanted to rehab in Pittsburgh, he damn well could, and he’d wield that power if need be. But he hoped it wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t interested in demanding something from his agent — he wanted his brother’s support.
The baby made tiny, mewling noises that made Jordon smile, and for a minute Grey put aside the conversation and simply enjoyed the view. Seeing Jordon with a baby was surreal. Seeing Jordon comfortable with something so small and needy was downright shocking. Jordon had never been the kind of guy who worshiped weakness. But as Grey watched his big brother gently rolling his son’s tiny fingers between his own massive digits, he realized everybody at some point changed their mind about something.
“How long did it take you to really know Maggie?” Grey asked, sort of wondering aloud.
Jordon huffed. “You’re not going to get me to fold by bringing up Maggie. Besides, we were different.”
“How was it different? You’d been burned by Bethany and still you managed to trust Maggie enough to get married and have a kid.” Grey reflexively raised his bandaged hand, gesturing to Braydon. He swallowed a massive rush of discomfort, because talking about these things didn’t come natural — to either of them. He doubted he’d even attempt this conversation if Nel hadn’t taught him that talking helped him make sense of what he was thinking.
“Maggie didn’t come after me. I went after her.”
“Nel didn’t come after me. She found the dogs and brought them home. It wasn’t like I met her in some stadium-side bar.”
“All I’m saying is you haven’t known her very long.”
“How long did you know Maggie before you knew she was … you know … the one?”
Jordon settled back in his chair, hoisting Braydon to his shoulder, adjusting the blanket wrapped around the boy. At first, his lips stayed pressed in a noncommittal line, while he glared at Grey, no doubt trying to find a way to turn this conversation around, because if Grey’s hunch was right, the conversation would lead him to Pittsburgh and back to Nel again.
With an exaggerated sigh, Jordon spoke. “Maggie had been here about a month when I suddenly knew I always wanted her to be here when I came home. Of course, convincing her to be here was another story, and it wasn’t easy, but it worked in the end.” He smiled as he rubbed the baby’s bac
k, and when he noticed Grey grinning at him, he growled. “Fine. I admit there’s some element of risk involved with relationships no matter how long and who it is, but by God, you need to be careful. You need to be sure.”
Was he sure?
Grey imagined Nel in his house with his dogs. He imagined going home to them. And he was sure. Damn sure. Sanctuary. He didn’t know exactly what the word meant, but it stuck in his head amid thoughts of her smile and easy calm in the face of his intense moods. She diffused him. She loved him. She completed him.
Grey straightened in his chair, preparing for a fight. “I need to rehab in Pittsburgh, J. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
A few agonizing seconds passed and Grey wondered if he was going to damage his relationship with his brother by not taking his professional advice yet again. But then a slow smile spread across Jordon’s face, and he shook his head. “You know, I should’ve seen this coming. Maggie said she talked to you.”
Grey grinned. “She asks a lot of questions; questions that make a man think.”
“Tell me about it.” Jordon stood, cradling Braydon’s head, and then he crossed the deck to slide open the screen door with his free hand. “I’ll catch up with you later. I have some calls to make.”
Grey fidgeted. “So we’re going to leave it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Without coming to an agreement about me rehabbing in Pittsburgh.”
“Little brother, it’s going to take more than an agreement between you and me. I need to talk to Buckhalter and ask him to oversee your rehab, knowing he’s going to be stepping on some toes in Nashville. If he won’t do it, then you’re going to have to rethink this plan. Nothing’s more important than your career, right?”
Grey used to think so. Now, he wasn’t sure. If there was a way he could have both, then he was damn well going to find it, but if he was forced to choose … he’d choose Nel.
“Right?” Jordon asked again. “Think carefully about how you answer that.” His brows waggled. “If you agree with me, then I’m going to have no choice but to think Pittsburgh is a big mistake, and I’m going to insist on you rehabbing in Nashville.”
