Rules of the Game

by Lori Wilde

  Caught in the sweet fire of his dreams, he got up later than he intended and only because Skeeter was at the door whining to be let out. It was almost eight and he’d already lost out on an early start.

  Jefferson. He was going to Jefferson today.

  He was ready for this, but it would take a certain mind-set to walk through that front door for the first time in three years. Just thinking about it tightened his jaw.

  He’d much rather stay here and hang out with Jodi. But he’d promised to keep his distance, at least until after the wedding, and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his chances for afterward.

  Different.

  He felt different when he was with her. Different than he’d ever felt with anyone else. It was a good kind of different. He felt more solid, more alive, and yet at the same time, more peaceful.

  It confused him because he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because Jodi looked a bit like Maura, but if that were the case, wouldn’t he feel for her the same things he’d felt for his wife? His relationship with Maura now seemed innocent, undeveloped, sweet. Like a rosebud that failed to bloom. Maybe it was why being with Jodi felt so comfortable. Or maybe it was because he just liked her. But he’d liked plenty of women before her. He fell “in like” quite regularly. Okay, so he liked Jodi a whole lot more than usual. More than he liked most people.

  C’mon, you don’t even know her. Until last night, you didn’t even know her real name.

  No? Then how about this? Whenever he was with her, he liked himself more. He liked the way he was with Jodi. Being with her reminded him of how he’d been before fame set in. He was his old self again.

  “Jodi.” He said her name out loud as he shaved. “Jodi.”

  Was he making a mistake feeding this flickering flame? But c’mon, what was the worst that could happen? Even if he crashed and burned, he was feeling something again and even getting hurt was a damn sight better than the numbness he’d felt for so long. At least it meant he was alive. That he’d come up to the plate and swung, even if in the end, he struck out.

  “Honor her wishes,” he told himself as he tossed his suitcase in the trunk of his Corvette. “Smile, be nice, but don’t press, don’t push, don’t make sexy remarks. Let things happen organically. If it’s meant to be, great … if not, so be it.”

  He bounded up the steps to the office, a little unnerved at how fast his heart was beating. No big deal. No pressure. Tell her you had a great stay and you’ll see her in two weeks at the Super Bowl/wedding shower thingy.

  Sounded good. Why were his palms so sweaty?

  He walked into the office, primed to flash his batter-up-showtime smile, only to find the renovated train engine empty. Thrown off guard by the fact Jodi wasn’t here to receive his quickly rehearsed, I’ve-got-no-problem-being-your-one-night-stand performance, he stood in the middle of the room feeling a little disappointed and disjointed. He was all ready to check out and be on his way, but there was no one to report to.

  Jodi’s coat was draped over the back of the chair parked behind the registration desk. He glanced over his shoulder, made sure no one else was in the room, and went behind the desk to smell her coat. Her intoxicating scent rose up from the garment and he took a deep breath. Instantly he was overwhelmed by the memory of the coat closet at the restaurant. He could feel Jodi’s strong legs wrapped firmly around his waist, the tickle of her hair falling over his face, her soft moans egging him on.

  The sweat that had slicked his palms migrated to his forehead. He put her coat back where he found it, swiped a hand over his brow. Christ almighty, what was this?

  The door flung open.

  He startled, jumped, unprepared now to face Jodi when he was behind her desk and dazzled from her fragrance.

  Man up, Coronado. Face the music.

  He spackled a smile on his face, desperate to hide the widening cracks spreading through him. Thanks to Jodi, his foundation was shaky.

  But it wasn’t Jodi who came through the door.

  Instead, a young brunette, holding a kid who looked like the Gerber baby, burst into the room. A diaper bag dangled from her shoulder. Her sweatpants were on wrong side out, a side seam tag giving her away. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her lips twitched, her eyes anxious with excitement.

  “Where’s Jodi?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I just got here myself.”

  “Oh shit.” She covered the baby’s ear with a palm. “Sorry, sweetie, Mama didn’t just say a bad word.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Yes. I need Jodi.”

  Clearly something was out of whack. But this woman’s problems were none of his business. He should just keep his mouth shut but, damn, the knight in shining armor inside him pulled a sword, eager to slay dragons.

  “Breathe. Calm down. Tell me what’s wrong?” he said in a low, soothing voice. She was wound up tight.

  “My sister …” She gasped. “She’s in labor a month early with her first baby. I’m her birth coach. I need to get to the hospital and Jodi said if I needed her she could watch him when the time came.”

  “You’re not breathing,” Jake said, and ushered her over to a chair. Pressed her down. “Just take a deep breath.”

  The baby stared at him, a thin fuzz of hair sticking up from his head like a halo. He tried not to make eye contact with the kid. Babies made him antsy. He had no idea what to do with them.

  “It’s just the two of us,” the young woman said. “Our parents died when I was twenty and my sister was fifteen. And when she got pregnant her boyfriend flaked on her. Luckily, I have a great husband, but he’s out of town on business. Why do big things always happen when he’s out of town? I’m so flustered.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” Jake assured her. “Your sister will be fine. You’ll be fine.”

  “But she needs me and I don’t have anyone to leave the baby with. Where is Jodi?”

  “I’m sure she’ll be back really soon.”

  “You’re that baseball player, aren’t you? Jake Coronado.”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “I heard about your wife. I’m sorry.”

  That made him uncomfortable. “I could try to find Jodi for you,” he offered.

  “No time,” she muttered. “I have to get to the hospital.”

  “How can I help? Do you want me to drive you?”

  “Here,” she said, getting up from the chair and shoving the baby at Jake. “Can you watch him for me until you can find Jodi? Or Ham. Ham will do in a pinch. Find Ham.”

  “Um, okay.” Jake grabbed for the baby, afraid that if he didn’t, in her worried state the mom would drop him. He grasped the kid around his chubby waist and held him out gingerly. What did a guy do with one of these things?

  The baby looked at him, gurgled happily, drool dripping from his bottom gum where one tooth half protruded.

  “Thank you,” the woman said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  Before he could ask the half-million questions revolving in his head, she spun on her heels and headed for the door, stopping long enough to drop the diaper bag from her shoulder to the floor, and then she was gone.

  “Hey, hey.” Jake tucked the kid in the crook of his arm like a football and ran for the door. “What’s the kid’s name?” he called to her as she sprinted toward the minivan parked out front.

  “Tobias,” the mom yelled over his shoulder. “His name is Tobias.” Then she was in her vehicle and peeling out of the parking lot.

  Huh. That was an unexpected turn of events. Jake looked at the kid.

  Tobias grinned. “Da!”

  “Hell no, kid, I’m not your da. I’m not anybody’s da.” Yeah, but he almost was. Once upon a time. The shadow of the old ghost brushed up against him and he shivered, reminding Jake that he was outside in the January cold with a hatless baby. Right. Get back inside and figure this out. So much for a quick getaway.

  He carried the baby back into the offic
e. “So Tobias, huh? Too big a moniker for such a little tyke. How ’bout I call you Toby?”

  The baby squealed happily.

  “You like that, huh? That’s good because we’re stuck with each other for the time being.”

  Toby bobbed his head as if to say, Fine by me.

  Jake blew out his breath through puffed cheeks. Now what? Did he keep holding the baby? Put him on the floor? Holding the baby felt weird. But putting him on the floor where the child could get into stuff felt weirder. What if Toby touched the potbelly stove? What if he poked his eyes out with the knitting needles sticking from the ball of yarn that rested on the arm of the couch? What if …

  Suddenly, all Jake could see were baby booby traps everywhere—glass that the kid could break and cut himself with, small items he could pop into his mouth and choke on, electrical sockets he could stick a finger into.

  “I better hold you. It seems safest.”

  The kid squirmed, bucked against Jake’s chest.

  Jake held on tight. “Sorry. Can’t put you down. Your mom is under enough stress already.”

  Toby leaned over Jake’s arm to rest his head against Jake’s hand. Aw, that was kinda cute—

  “Ow!”

  The little rug rat raised his head, mouth open, eyes twinkling. A deep imprint of a single tooth dug into the base of Jake’s thumb.

  “You bit me!” Jake said, ignoring his throbbing thumb. “Dammit, Toby, I thought we were friends.”

  Toby grinned and opened his mouth wider to take another chunk out of Jake.

  “No, no. I’m not a teething ring, kid.” Quickly, he transferred the baby to his other arm. “You hungry? Is that the deal?”

  Toby gurgled and drooled and patted his chubby palms together like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

  “Let’s check out the diaper bag for some eats, you little cannibal.” Jostling the kid in an attempt to keep his mind off sharpening his tooth on Jake’s hide, he squatted to go through the diaper bag with his free hand—diapers, bibs, clean clothes. Grub? Where was the grub? Finally at the bottom of the diaper bag, he hit pay dirt.

  Crackers.

  The minute Toby spied the cracker package, he started rocking, grunting, and making grabbing motions.

  Juggling the kid and the crackers as best he could, Jake got to his feet and tore open the package. The bag ripped right down the middle, sending crackers flying all over the room.

  Toby let out a loud shriek of dismay.

  Crap. Not a single cracker left in the torn bag. Now what?

  A pair of tiny sneakers kicked him hard in the solar plexus. Ooph. The air shot from his lungs as Toby struggled, trying to get out of his arms and onto the floor after the crackers. The kid had the makings of a cage fighter.

  Jake eyed the floor, saw that it was pretty clean. “Five-second rule,” he declared, scooped up a few crackers, blew on them to get rid of any germs, and held out a palmful to the baby.

  Toby dove for them, grabbed crackers in both fists.

  Yeah, granted, he wasn’t going to win babysitter of the year award, but he’d been drafted. He hadn’t volunteered for child-care duty. Besides, the kid was taking a bite out of something besides him. In Jake’s book, that was a win-win.

  Toby grinned, yellow buttery cracker crumbs clinging to his face.

  “Ah, so we’re friends again? Or are you just trying to lull me into a false sense of security so you can nibble on me some more?”

  The kid’s eyes turned wily, as if to say, Stay on guard, hotshot, you never know what I’ll do. That was the scary thing about kids. They were so unpredictable.

  The front door opened.

  Jodi? His heart leaped and not just because he needed rescuing from the baby. He wanted to see her again and he was already imagining her sympathetic smile when he showed her the one-toothed bite mark on his thumb.

  Except it wasn’t Jodi.

  Instead, a blond, Nordic-looking man in coveralls tromped over the threshold, wiped his work boots on the welcome mat. He looked so comfortable in the place, like he belonged, Jake couldn’t help wondering if the guy was Jodi’s boyfriend.

  Ah, a boyfriend. That would explain why she didn’t want anything more than a one-night stand. No wonder she’d jumped into the laundry cart. She was ashamed of herself because she had a boyfriend.

  Jealousy simmered like a kettle of hot soup low and hot in his stomach.

  But if this guy was her boyfriend, why hadn’t she taken him to the engagement party? And why hadn’t she just been straight with him about it?

  The guy stopped, and stared at Jake. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, please take this kid.” Jake extended the baby toward the newcomer.

  The guy held up his hands. “No way. Tobias is a biter.”

  “Tell me about it. Are you Ham?”

  “Hamilton Gee at your service. You Orange Boxcar?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Love the Vette.”

  “Thanks.” Jake was still holding Toby toward Ham. “Are you Jodi’s boyfriend?” Shit! He hadn’t meant to ask that.

  Ham looked like that was the most ridiculous question anyone had ever asked him. “She’s my boss and my best friend.”

  “You two never … ?” Jake slowly shook his head, wanting the answer to be no.

  “What business is that of yours?” Ham asked, his tone amiable enough on the backside of his blunt words.

  “None,” Jake said. “None whatsoever. Just making conversation.”

  Ham’s eyes narrowed and he studied Jake for a couple of seconds before he shifted gears and said, “How’d you end up with Tobias?”

  “His mom’s sister went into labor a month earlier and she’s the birth coach. She left the baby for Jodi to watch, but said you’d do.”

  “Jodi babysits for Kendra once in a while. She babysits for a lot of people. She can’t seem to say no when folks ask.” Ham nodded ruefully and grinned as if Jodi’s generosity was something he adored about her. “Sometimes this place looks like a nursery school. Whoever marries Jodi will have to love kids. She’ll want a passel of them.”

  Jake hadn’t thought about kids since … well … He tried not to think about them at all, easy enough to do when a guy focused on his career.

  “If you’d just take the kid …” Jake tried to thrust Toby on Ham.

  “Sorry,” Ham said. “You’ve got him, you’re stuck with him.”

  “I need to leave. I have places to be. Things to do.” Yes, he was stretching the truth a bit with that. Nothing adverse would happen if he didn’t make it to Jefferson today, but still.

  “I’m busy too,” Ham said. “I have to take care of the guests.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Take him to Jodi,” Ham suggested.

  “Where is she?”

  “Most likely at Timeless Treasures.”

  “Her parents’ antique store, right? Where’s that?” Jake asked. Toby was wriggling something fierce, kicking his leg like an Olympic swimmer.

  “Main Street.”

  “Good. Great. That’s what I’ll do.” Jake stuck Toby in the crook of his arm, picked up the diaper, stopped. “Um, the kid isn’t going to fit in my Corvette.”

  “No kidding.”

  “How am I supposed to take him to Jodi?”

  “You can take the company van. Jodi keeps a car seat in the back for picking up guests with babies at the airport.” Ham pulled a set of keys from his corduroys and tossed them to Jake, who caught them one-handed. “Nice catch.”

  “I am a ballplayer.”

  “So I heard,” Ham said dryly.

  “That bother you?”

  “Men who don’t treat women right bother me.”

  Huh? What was that about? “Did Jodi say something to you?” he asked. “Because the one-time thing was her idea.”

  Ham startled, scowled darkly, and looked like he was about to come across the room and punch Jake’s lights out. “What?”

  �
��Clearly I’ve said too much,” Jake said. “Forget I mentioned it. Thanks for the van keys.”

  He hustled outside, baby in hand, wondering exactly what Jodi had told her best friend about him.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jodi Carlyle’s Wedding Crasher Rules: Don’t get too

  attached to anyone you pick up at a wedding.

  Jodi brought a basket of the leftover homemade banana nut muffins that she put out for the B&B guests, and a brown earthenware crock of creamy butter from the Stardust Dairy, when she arrived at Timeless Treasures that morning.

  The antique store didn’t open until ten, but the Honeysuckle Café, located in the back of the building, opened for breakfast at six. The café, which was technically a tearoom despite the diner name, was famous in Marion County. It had even been written up with glowing reviews in Texas Monthly. The owner and operator, Atlanta Johnson, was her mother’s best friend since grade school.

  Going around to the side entrance where customers were lined up to get into the café, the air rife with the aroma of breakfast tacos, Jodi paused to greet friends and acquaintances before heading into the antique store through the back way. The sloped old wooden floor creaked beneath her weight, and the familiar musty scent of antiques hugged her like an old friend. She skimmed down aisles crowded with furniture and knickknacks, objets d’art and collectibles, crafts and vintage clothing.

  She caught sight of her family grouped around the checkout counter. Mom, Dad, Suki, and Breeanne, who, now that she had finished ghostwriting Rowdy’s autobiography, had gone back to working at the upstairs bookstore, Bound to Please. But all that would change once she was Mrs. Rowdy Blanton and baseball season started. She’d be living in Dallas with her new husband and starting a new book. For a moment, Jodi felt a little sad about that, it was the end of an era. But she shook off the mood and waved with a happy smile.

  “How are you this morning?” Suki asked, a sly grin on her face.

  “Fine.” Jodi shot her a hold-your-tongue look. “You?”

  “No complaints.”

  “Are those banana nut muffins?” Dad asked.

  “Yep.” Jodi set the basket of muffins and the crock of butter on the counter.