Bride on the Run

by Catherine Mann

  But she wanted a lot from him that he didn’t know how to give. A real family, for starters. The only problem was he had no idea what that actually looked like.

  “I’m only just getting my head around this. Around us. Why can’t we spend more time together? Take our time and figure things out?”

  “But that’s what bothered me about overhearing Jason today. Giving you time won’t help when you’re not seriously considering a future.”

  He wanted to argue. But he knew he had to step carefully. “You’re not being not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair.” She rose out of the wingback and paced the room restlessly, as if she was all set to leave and roam farther. “Just because your father left and your mother had to work too many jobs to be around doesn’t mean you have to spend your life without a family. You’ve substituted your team for a pseudo family. And that’s okay you’ve found a way to fill the void. But what does happen afterward at forty or later, if you’ve waited too long and missed your chance?”

  The counselor in her had returned. Here was that advice, that clinical advice she hadn’t been able to say. And it cut Boone. Worse than Annamae walking out. In a way he couldn’t even begin to process.

  “Why can’t we just keep things the way they are? You’re making this too complicated. Too fast.”

  “And you’re trying to make it all about sex when you know full well it’s more than that between us.” Her green eyes blazed at him.

  “I’m not some radio show call-in client for you to pick apart.” He needed space. Needed to figure out how to make it all work.

  “You’re the one putting distance between us,” she said between tight lips, her jaw set but her eyes glistening.

  “Distance. I think that’s a good idea.” It came out harsher than he’d meant. But he wasn’t just upset about her wanting to leave. He was angry that she’d made up her mind about him without even giving him a chance to be a better man than he’d been. He hefted a sleek black duffel bag his mom had bought him the first season with a major league team. “The team flight leaves first thing in the morning. I’ll bunk with one of the guys tonight so you have all the room you need.”

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  Exhausted from the flight and a sleepless night without Boone, Valerie shifted her carry-on bag as she walked through the packed airport. She wasn’t even sure why she’d gone along with the other women to travel to the Miami game. Not after the argument she and Boone had following the conversation with her dad. She told herself the ticket had already been purchased – but Miami of all places? So full of reminders of her childhood, her family. Her disaster of an almost wedding to Erik.

  Nothing like going from the frying pan into the fire.

  But no matter what Boone thought about her, she definitely didn’t want to be the cause of any more gossip about his love life. Annamae leaving had hurt his pride and his image. And while Valerie cared more about his heart, she cared so much that she refused to hurt his pride or his image if she could avoid it. She owed him that much.

  Everyone already knew she’d planned to be here. The papers were buzzing about their relationship now that her identity was out. The media would eat him alive if she just ghosted out. And though she understood the need to break things off from a man that wasn’t The One, she couldn’t bring herself to do it in such a visible manner.

  The team traveled separately and would be arriving at the hotel the same time as the women who’d been on Valerie’s flight. The small group of them – they were down to just six since the travel of baseball life was hard on the spouses and girlfriends – had caught a direct flight from Dallas to Miami then rented a limo to take them to the hotel.

  Melanie had been texting with Grady, who had arrived in the lobby just as the women’s limo pulled up.

  As they walked inside, Valerie’s stomach was in knots. Nerves were getting the better of her. What was she going to say to Boone? How would she justify her decision to come to the game after the way they’d parted?

  Of course, she couldn’t fully focus on how to handle her latest relationship disaster.

  Melanie rambled on about her wedding plans and each word about flowers and lace and color schemes grated on Valerie’s aching, ragged nerves, no matter that she’d really grown to like the woman. Phone in hand, Melanie had been scrolling through various arrangements of peonies and lilies, showing them all to Valerie, oblivious to the fact that Valerie’s heart ached over what had happened with Boone.

  But all the arrangements blurred together as she searched the crowd for Boone’s familiar face, hoping they could make peace after the way he’d left their room. And what did the rest of the team think? Did they know? None of the women had referenced it on the plane ride, so Valerie didn’t think so.

  She scanned the group of players off to one side of the lobby, all well-dressed and juggling coffees and phones as they waited for their room assignments. Her eyes landed on…

  Her eyes landed on…

  Her father?

  The familiar lines in his face crinkled as he smiled widely. He was dressed casually, jeans and a polo. Nondescript. He could easily blend into the background—a byproduct of living on the go, evading people.

  Valerie’s heart swelled. She had missed him so much. And appreciated what her father had done for her by making the last year of her life possible.

  “Daddy, what are you doing here?” The smile spread so wide across her face, she thought she might burst. If ever she had needed the support of her dad, now was that time.

  Anton spread his arms wide. “I wanted to surprise my girl. Your buddy Boone set it all up.”

  Hope lit inside her. Had he offered this to make peace after their argument? To show her how important family was?

  Her eyes finally landed on Boone where he stood in the back of the lounge area with the rookie who played left field.

  Her father hugged her hard. “I’ve been looking forward to this for the two days since he called me and said I should surprise you at the team hotel.”

  “Two days ago?”

  “Yes, welcome home, baby girl.”

  She forced a smile that she knew darn well didn’t make it to her eyes. “Thanks for coming.”

  So this hadn’t been a peace offering. Why’d he do it then? It didn’t make any sense. And a sinking feeling threatened her. Once again, she pinned her hopes on a man destined to disappoint them. Just like she had with Erik…

  And speaking of Erik, there was a man in the distant part of the crowd that looked a lot like him. Same build, same arrogant stride. Typical male preening. It turned her stomach sour.

  But then, the man that looked like Erik strode towards them. Determined. And as he came into focus, she realized it wasn’t a guy that just looked like Erik. It was Erik.

  Crap.

  This certainly was turning out to be a strange day. How in the hell was she supposed to deal with an angry ex-fiancé, a hurt ex-fling/boyfriend/whatever-the-hell Boone was in one day?

  Erik pushed through the other travelers and grabbed her elbow. “I’ve been looking for you. It’s time we had a talk.”

  “Let go of my arm,” she said softly. Deliberately.

  He didn’t listen. He jerked her away from her father so hard she stumbled. “Damn it, Valerie, you owe me an explanation and a wedding—”

  A low growl echoed in her ears. And she would have thought it was her dad, except she could have sworn it was Boone from across the room—

  Or he was there. Wasn’t he?

  The world spun around her as she tried to regain her footing. Her father scooped her up just as Boone launched forward with athletic speed and instincts. His fist swung and he clipped Erik on the jaw. Apparently a glass jaw, because her former fiancé crumpled to the ground.

  The scene was too much. Too real. This was her future. She’d always be looking over her shoulder. For Erik. For her grandfather and uncles. Her father may have broken the cycle of crime, but that didn�
��t mean they were safe. She may not be actively involved in criminal dealings, but her family by-and-large would always be after her. They’d always try to grab her back, pull her down.

  And as her former fiancé rubbed his jaw, she watched the mixture of horror and disgust wash over the wives and girlfriends. They looked at the scene and back at her. She could practically hear their judgments, imagined what they’d whisper to each other.

  She was a mobster’s granddaughter and no amount of pretending or use of accents would make her otherwise.

  Just like that, Boone was back into a hot-seat where rumors and whispers would stalk him. All because of her. Because there was nothing normal or safe about her history. She’d continue to embarrass him because this violence followed her. There was no future between them. She’d been so foolish to think that being here – coming to Miami – might quell rumors about their break-up. She’d only made it ten times worse.

  She’d visit with her father and then she’d leave. That was what was best. She’d disappear, fade into the background. Go back to being an anonymous voice on the radio, maybe.

  Either way, she knew she’d just lost her glass slipper for good.

  *

  Boone massaged his hand as he leaned against the hotel window overlooking the Miami skyline. His hand was fine. And Valerie was safe. He reminded himself that was all that mattered right now even though she’d barely said two words to him since he’d checked into what should have been their suite – a suite she’d only stepped into to escape the commotion in the lobby. Boone had convinced her to let things die down while they spoke privately. Besides, her father had already checked into another room at the same hotel and Valerie still wanted to spend time with him.

  Just not Boone. She stood at the wet bar, focused on making an ice pack for him as if it was some kind of intricate task that required total concentration.

  Thank God the security guards had been able to sort through everything or they could have all been sitting in jail and missed tonight’s game. A new warrant had been recently issued for Erik – the lowlife. Apparently evidence had confirmed he was laundering money for the Dimitri family. Anton had even stepped up to offer additional testimony. He said he’d kept his mouth shut to protect his daughter. But now, clearly, his silence had only put her in danger.

  Boone’s heart had damn near leapt out of his chest when he’d seen that bastard go after her. He watched her now as she finished knotting a second plastic bag around the ice. She was a whirlwind of motion. Erratic. Upset.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, worried about her. “Your arm? Did he hurt you at all? Sometimes the pain of an injury doesn’t kick in until the adrenaline rush lets down.” A protective urge filled him again as he thought back to someone grabbing Valerie while he was on the other side of the room. Too damn far from her.

  He never wanted her to be in that position again.

  “I told you. I’m fine.” Her voice was laced with calm, too much calm. She approached him with the ice and balanced it on his hand, then wrapped a towel around it.

  “Clearly,” the words were a dry rasp. He pressed on. “So do you want something to eat before the game? I really hope you’ll stay for it. I gave your dad tickets and I genuinely think he’d like to attend. He’s a big-time baseball fan, even if he roots for the wrong team.”

  He hoped the light note would help her relax. Smile at him, maybe, but she bit her lip while she tied a knot in the hand towel, keeping that ice pack where she wanted it.

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “If he wants. But don’t worry about me. I’ll grab something to eat with my father. I know you have a team meal you should be at.”

  Valerie’s response was terse, guarded. He needed a new strategy. As he fumbled for words, he watched her straighten her laptop bag where it rested on top of her small suitcase that she hadn’t bothered to unpack. Now, she peered into a black bag with a gold zipper. A bag checked often when she travelled. He remembered it in the hotel room in Arlington.

  Initially, he thought it had been a makeup bag. But it was a little too large for makeup. And she never pulled lip gloss out of it. She just unzipped it, peaked inside, and zipped it back up.

  And then it hit him. The dots suddenly connecting as he watched her tensed jaw relax ever-so-slightly as she picked it up.

  A filtered bit of Valerie’s phone conversation popped into his head. Both Anton and Valerie had mentioned a go-kit. At the time, he hadn’t given much thought to it until now.

  “Valerie, what exactly is a go-kit?”

  “Oh,” she glanced at the little pack with a guilty look in her eyes, “it contains all the basics if I need to leave quickly.”

  Leave quickly. And she’d carried it the whole time? She’d always had a contingency to bail on him. All the memories he actively tried to repress crashed into him with hurricane force ferocity.

  This was his life. Marked by a series of departures. Marked by people he loved and cared about leaving him.

  It was too damn much.

  He had never had been enough of a reason to stay. His father had walked out on him and his mom when he was younger. And that wound still felt fresh. Still was too real. His father’s absence had forced his mom into working long hours at multiple jobs. That was when this all started. When he learned to focus on his career to make some stability and find a place where he could belong.

  When Annamae left, he felt the stability of his life crash down around him. Annamae had seemed so right in a lot of ways. A good friend. A good person. But in the end, that hadn’t been enough to make their relationship last. He hadn’t been enough of a reason to stay.

  And now this? Was this some sort of cosmic joke that he’d fall for another person that never intended on being there for him?

  “Good to have a back-up plan.” He should probably take a page from her book and prepare for the worst ahead of time. It would save him a whole lot of trouble.

  “Boone—”

  “No.” He needed space. Air. Now. “Uhm, Valerie, I’d better get to that team lunch.”

  A lame ass excuse when he’d been in no hurry to get to it a minute ago, but she simply nodded.

  He was screwed.

  He backed out of their suite and into the hall. Boone pressed the elevator button repeatedly, needing to be somewhere else. And not the team lunch where the guys would all have questions about the fight in the lobby. That could wait a little longer until he got his head on straight. For now he headed to the bar in the lobby.

  A drink was out of the question, of course, with a game coming up. He’d settle for a tall glass of orange juice. He just wanted to be surrounded by strangers and noise. Needed to drown out his internal monologue. Get out of his own head and figure out how to dust himself off from here.

  Boone passed through the couples at the high tops and headed straight for the main bar and the thin, wiry bartender.

  But he slowed his steps as he saw Anton stirring a drink absently.

  The man must have a sixth sense for eyes on him because he tore his gaze from his drink and stared right back at Boone. Anton’s expression relaxed as he registered who Boone was.

  Anton waved him over from a dark corner. “Have a seat.”

  He wasn’t sure why he walked over other than it was quiet, and he could sit with his back to the bar so no one would recognize him. And yeah, he wanted to talk to her father and maybe, just maybe… what?

  Maybe he wouldn’t lose her.

  His drink ordered and delivered, a silence fell between them.

  Anton gestured with his glass. “How’s the hand? That was quite a punch you delivered.”

  “I’m fine. No worries about playing. The bastard had a glass jaw.”

  “How’s my baby girl?” Anton kept his voice low. Private.

  “Valerie’s…guarded.” Boone didn’t know what he expected her father to say to him. Or if he could help at all.

  “Growing up a Dimitri wasn’t easy.” He drained his glas
s. Years of worry and running from his crime boss father had clearly taken a toll on Anton.

  “The family reputation has no bearing on her.” Boone didn’t give a damn about her past. It didn’t matter to him. Not one bit. He knew well that you couldn’t control the actions of your family. And Boone wouldn’t count those crimes against the wonderful, sexy, smart woman that was Valerie Dimitri. She had made a life that was all her own.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. Not everyone feels the same.” He nudged his empty glass aside and leaned back. “I meant problems with safety issues – from family, enemies, even the law wondering if we were culpable, too. Today was just a sample.”

  Boone let out a sigh, understanding kicking around his gut along with painful images of a kid carrying that case around. “And that’s where the whole go-kit tradition started?”

  “Tradition? I guess you could call it that.” He tapped his fingers against back of the bench seat, thinking. “It was a necessity. I taught her to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. Never get too attached to a place because who knew when we might have to leave? It was a tough way to grow up for sure, but she learned well. I never had to remind her to be ready to go. She always prepared for the worst even when we hoped for the best.” He grinned. “Our family tradition.”

  Boone offered a thin smile in return, but the words rocked him. He may have lost people in his life, but his mother and his home were rock solid. Stable. There for him for him no matter what.

  While Valerie… she knew better than to ever get comfortable. It was a damn credit to her that she’d learned how to love with so much chaos in her life. But she had. Boone was sure of it. She’d wanted more from him, and he’d been too much of a chicken shit to assure her they could last.

  No wonder she was so upset by his refusal to commit. Complaining about the instability of a life on the road while he was a wealthy sports star probably sounded lame to her after a life of running from criminal relatives.

  He needed to put his pride on the line and let her know he loved her. Totally.