Blake slid his hand into the rim and picked up the tire like it didn’t weigh a thing. For him, it didn’t. Stupid muscles and crap. “We’ve got it. Thanks.”
Chris pointed at them. “I thought you two weren’t together.”
Elise scowled at Blake. “We’re not,” she insisted.
Blake lifted his spare hand in a women! can’t live without them gesture.
Chris gave him a good luck with that one nod.
With a huff, Elise pushed through the door and into the warm night air. A second too late, she realized she should have held it for Blake; he was carrying her tire, after all. She flipped around only to have to jump out of the way as it flew open, almost hitting her.
“You okay?” Blake asked.
“I’m fine.” She stomped towards the car, irritated for all sorts of reasons, all of which she knew were stupid by themselves. Like, why did Blake think he could just carry out her tire without asking? And what was with throwing the door open so fast—didn’t he know you were supposed to push gently so you didn’t dismember someone? The heat seeping out of the blacktop did nothing to cool her temper as Blake put her tire in his trunk. They got into the car and she folded her arms. “So what, are you sponsored by a tire company or something?”
Blake had the audacity to laugh. “I wish—tell them I’d be happy to.” He leaned back in his seat. “My family owns a tire shop back home. Anytime I wasn’t in school or on the fields, I was in the shop. It was a great way to grow up.”
Elise’s hands fell into her lap. That was not what she’d expected at all. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t the image of a younger Blake with hands as black as Junior’s spending his Saturday mornings sweeping out the family’s shop.
“How about you?” Blake asked.
She took a deep breath and studied her hands. “Anytime I wasn’t in school, I was on the field. My dad was the best coach ever and he expected our full effort twenty-four-seven.”
Blake made the turn to get back on the freeway. “How come you aren’t playing now?”
“I blew out my knee.”
“For a catcher, that’s a game changer.”
“How did you …?”
“You caught the tape with your palm out—almost as if you had a glove on.”
Her lips curved up and she rested her elbow on the console between them. “Well, in the process I learned that I love PT and I got this amazing job out of it, so silver linings, right?”
Blake hooked her pinky finger with his. “I’d say so.”
Elise pulled her hand away. With Blake melting her walls with every look and half smile he sent her way, she had to. She had to break the contact because even that small touch was enough to set her heart to skipping.
Chapter Ten
For one small moment, everything had been centered. And then Elise pulled her hand away. Needing her touch, needing the way it made him feel, wasn’t something he was comfortable with, and yet he had no desire to make it stop. In fact, all he could think about was how to make it happen more often.
He pulled alongside her car and retrieved the tire, tire iron, and jack from his trunk.
“You probably don’t leave home without one of these, do you?” She patted the jack in his hands.
“My dad would be ashamed.” Blake began loosening the lug nuts. As soon as he had one spinning, he moved on to the next, while Elise twisted it the rest of the way off and set them aside so they didn’t roll away.
“What does he think about baseball?” she asked. She kept her eyes on the tire, more comfortable to look there than at him while she talked. Which was fine. Talking was an improvement; he could work on eye contact.
“He was so disappointed when I was drafted.”
The jack stopped. “You’re joking, right?” She lifted her gaze.
Bingo! He held her there for a minute, before slowly smiling.
She swatted his calf, the only part of him she could reach while kneeling by her car. “Be serious.”
“I am. He was disappointed I wasn’t drafted by the Yankees. He’s president of their fan club.” Blake lay on his back and set the jack under her back axle. Once it was in place, she pumped the jack to lift the car.
Elise shook her head. “Poor guy. How will he ever get over the disappointments you’ve brought into his life?” She smiled, and Blake’s chest got all big and warm.
“I’ve got a brother who fills in the gaps. He has a wife and two kids, still works with Dad.”
She stared up at him. “You miss them.”
He grunted. “Every day.”
She patted his leg, leaving behind a grease smudge. He stared at it. “Oh, sorry.” She looked at her dirty hands and her nose wrinkled. He resisted the urge to kiss her forehead.
“No worries. When I was younger, every pair of jeans I owned had black streaks on them.”
“Your poor mother. I can’t imagine the laundry.”
He broke into a smile as he removed the old tire and lifted the new one in place. “My mama would love you.”
“Why?” Elise put a lug nut in place for him to tighten. They hadn’t divided up jobs or anything; they just kind of fell into a comfortable rhythm, a shadow of the connection they shared when their lips and bodies came together. But it was enough.
“Because you keep me in line.” He started tightening lug nuts.
“Ha!” Elise sat down with her back against his car.
He gave the bolt a final jerk and joined her, wiping the perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand.
“I’ll never get it loose if you tighten it up like that.”
Blake picked up her hand and looked it over. “That’s the idea—I like being needed by you.”
She leaned into his shoulder. “Blake, we shouldn’t.”
“There’s an interesting thought.”
“What?”
“You said we shouldn’t. Not ‘don’t’ or ‘stop’—we shouldn’t implies I want to.”
She laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Does this mean you’re encouraging me?”
She jumped to her feet. “Blake Rygs. You may have a big, fat two-year contract, but I don’t. I need this job and I need to you stop inviting me to do things I shouldn’t.”
He got slowly to his feet, all sorts of warm and gooey feelings welling up inside, but they were tempered by the idea that he could be the reason she went away. “I don’t want you to go anywhere. I just—dang it, Elise. Something happens when I’m with you and I don’t understand what it is, but it’s like that first time you hit a double in a game. Ya know? And you think, man, baseball could be the thing for me. Do you know what I mean?”
He saw it in her eyes. He saw that she knew exactly what he meant. The feeling that ties you to the game, that imprints it on your DNA like numbers on the back of a uniform. She got it. And because she got it, he had to do all in his power to keep her around.
Even if it meant taking a step back. He did just that and held up his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you made me change your tire.” He made quick work of lowering the jack and stowing it in his trunk as he teased her.
Her mouth dropped open. “I made you?”
“Yeah, practically begged me, but what’s a guy to do?” He rolled his shoulders around. The only way to ensure Elise kept her job was to keep her far enough away that Coach Wolfe didn’t have a reason to get rid of her. The only way he was going to ever be satisfied in life was if he spent as much time with her as possible. Therefore, he would just have to work the system. And maybe pop her other three tires … but that was a last resort.
“Wait … what?”
Blake put his tools back and stowed her now spare tire in her trunk. “I’ll see you around.” He winked, slammed her trunk, and made his way to his car.
Elise threw her hands in the air before slamming her door and starting the car. Good. She could make it home safely now, and he could hit the lap pool to work o
ff all this extra energy and ponder his next move.
Chapter Eleven
Elise twisted the T-shirt in her hands, and then realized what she was doing and smoothed it back out. Standing behind her dad’s recliner, she took a deep breath. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hi.” Dad turned away from SPORTSNetwork’s recap of last night’s games. Top of their broadcast was Coach Wolfe’s visit to the mound last night. They replayed him and Jackson Kimber squaring off, changing to slow motion as Jackson reached for his throwing arm. Elise glared at the screen.
“You think he’s full of it?” asked Dad.
She shook her head. Her interactions with Kimber were minimal, mostly because she avoided him, but he smelled like a snake in the grass. Kimber claimed Coach had made him pitch with a sore arm. “I don’t have any proof. I wasn’t the one who worked on his arm, so I can’t really say either way.”
Dad’s eyes glinted with mischief. “He’s full of crap.”
Elise burst out a laugh. “Your words, not mine.” Dismissing Kimber from her thoughts, she touched her dad’s arm. “I brought you something.” She held out the shirt, feeling hopeful.
He unfolded the bundle to reveal the Redrocks’ logo. “Your new favorite team, huh?”
She smiled, thinking of Blake and how he’d gotten his hands dirty to help her out. And how he’d hooked her pinky. And how her heart had pounded at first contact. “I guess I bleed red.”
His eyes crinkled. “You and Jane. Blake Rygs is all she can talk about.”
Elise blushed. Jane’s enthusiasm for Blake was as much about his pitching abilities as it was his kindness the other day. “Can’t say I blame her. He did load our groceries.”
The crinkles disappeared, and Elise immediately regretted saying anything. Her dad used to be the one to make the Costco trip. Now … now he just sat in the recliner and watched the games he used to report on.
“Anyway, the shirt is a thank-you. If you hadn’t taught me everything I know about baseball and introduced me to Doc, I wouldn’t have gotten the job.”
He shrugged. “Your degree got you the job.”
She shook her head. “Doc Burningham was as impressed with my baseball knowledge as he was with my degree—and that was all you.” She smiled.
Dad nodded and his cheeks lifted, but his eyes didn’t crinkle. “Early game today?”
She checked the clock on the wall. “Yep. I’d better get going.” She kissed his cheek. “Put the shirt on for the game, okay? It’s good luck.”
“Okay, Dottie.” Dad chuckled at his use of her old nickname. When she started catching, he nicknamed her after the talented catcher in A League of Their Own. Her brothers teased her that she should have been called Marla, after the designated hitter who inspired night games. But it was Dottie that stuck.
Elise hurried out the door. What she hadn’t told Dad was that the luck in the shirt was for him. He’d sent out two more résumés yesterday and she desperately wanted him to find a job. Not just any job, but one he’d love as much as his old job. Writing for the local paper hadn’t brought in a lot of money, but between her mom’s teaching income and what her dad brought in, they had enough to pay the bills. And the two of them had overflowed with love, support, coaching, and life. She wasn’t kidding when she told Blake it was a great way to grow up. Until she hit college and learned where some of her teammates came from, the demands and abuse they’d endured as kids, she had no idea how charmed her childhood truly had been. That’s why, when she had the chance, she jumped in to help carry the load.
She parked her car in the employee lot and rushed in. Afternoon games had an urgency about them that evening games avoided. She had the same amount of time to get the work done, but the earlier game time lent urgency to her movements. After washing her hands and saying hello to Camden, she checked the assignment board. Juan moseyed in. She helped him lay belly-down on the ball and work his back. She transitioned him through several leg lifts and movements intended to strengthen the muscles around the spine. She had him turn to his back and do another series of movements to strengthen his core. Watching his form with her back to the door, she sensed Blake walk in and swallowed—hard.
She hadn’t expected to see him. Although, she’d seen him plenty in her daydreams before bed as she relived every moment of changing a tire with him. She looked over her shoulder, unable to resist.
Blake winked at her before addressing Camden. “Do you have time to do my shoulder today?”
Camden wrinkled his forehead. “I’ve got Jackson coming in. Mrs. Wolfe ordered a full workup.”
Elise gritted her teeth. The report on SPORTSNetwork about Kimber’s claim of injury spurred the owner, Harper Wolfe, to insist on a full medical workup from Doc Burningham. He, in turn, had ordered extra PT. Jackson insisted Camden do the work, and not the “new kid.” She was fine with that. The less time she spent with him, the better.
“Elise, what have you got?”
Juan rolled to his side, and she gently took his hand to steady him as he lifted his right leg. “Um.”
Camden glanced at the board and then back at her. She had time and he knew it. She gave a small shake of her head. Heaven help her, touching Blake was like playing with fire, or eating one spoonful of ice cream, or only hearing the first line of your favorite song.
He turned his attention to Blake. “What’s going on?”
Blake rolled his shoulders. “It’s not a big deal. I just changed a tire last night and my shoulders are kind of tight.”
Elise glared. Of all the guilt-tripping … “I can take care of you when I’m done here.” She looked down to find Juan grinning like a fool. “Not a word,” she warned.
“Who, me? I’m not talking.” Juan was all innocence—big, fat, fake innocence.
“Shut it.” She laughed.
He zipped his fingers over his lips and bounced to his feet. “She’s all yours, dude.” He winked at Elise and pointed to Blake. Her face heated.
At least Camden was here to make sure things didn’t get out of control. She hadn’t told him what happened before. There was no point in confessing to a make-out session with a player. It would only make her look bad, and she wanted Camden to trust her. Besides, if Coach Wolfe hadn’t felt the need to tell Doc Burningham or Camden, she wasn’t going to.
Blake took his shirt off, and the heat spread to her neck. Why’d he have to have that effect on her? She looked at half-naked bodies all day long. Worked them over without one butterfly or hitch in her breath. With Blake, it was different—so very different.
“Elise?” Blake asked, bringing her gaze up from his body to his face. “I’m up here.”
Camden snorted.
“Shut it,” Elise muttered. Mortified to be caught drool-staring, she moved to stand behind Blake. “Let’s check your range of motion.” She took his wrist in her hand, the warmth shooting up her arm and her pulse pounding in her wrist. Breathing deeply, she moved his arm up, around back, and in a circle.
“You look great,” Blake whispered.
“Shh. Concentrating.” She put her palm on his shoulder, moving his arm and feeling the muscles contract and relax beneath her palm.
Jackson swaggered in. Elise barely glanced up from Blake’s nicely rounded shoulder. Camden fist-bumped him and they got to work. She moved to the front and repeated the process.
“How’s Jane?” asked Blake.
“She’s great. They had a tournament last weekend and her team took first.”
“She’s good, then?”
“She’s a better bat than I was at her age.”
“Is she a catcher too?”
“Pitcher.” Something caught, and Elise pushed him back to lie down on the table so she could work out the knot. Blake held her gaze as he leaned, the desire in his eyes coming across like a fastball she wasn’t prepared for. She blinked and turned away.
“What about your brothers?”
“What?”
“What positions do they play?”
“Two pitch and one catches.”
“All on the same team?”
“For high school, yeah.”
“That’s cool.”
“I’m not gonna lie, seeing three Smiths on the back of their jerseys makes my heart burst with pride.”
“Senior year, right? Have they been scouted?”
She paused, impressed that he remembered so much from their short conversation several days ago. “Jordan and Adam are staying close to home. They got scholarships to Dixie State. Bryce is a leftie pitcher and he was recruited by Rice. He leaves in July.”
“You’re not happy.”
“They’re the three musketeers—I’m worried about him going out on his own.”
“Yeah, but he’s a leftie. That’s bound to grab attention.”
“I know.” She sighed.
“Does it bug the others?”
“Not that they would say. But we Smiths are a competitive group. Although our parents tried to keep it out of the family room. What about you? Does your brother resent all this?”
“What? All this?” He motioned to his bare torso—so beautifully laid out on the table.
Elise followed the direction of his hand before blushing. “No! Your baseball career.”
“I’m the black sheep, remember? The boy who didn’t take over the tire shop.”
“Right, you’re the big disappointment.” She crinkled her nose at him.
“It’s a burden I bear.”
She slapped his arm. “Yeah, right.” They laughed.
Noticing how quiet it was, she glanced around and found Camden and Jackson watching the two of them. Camden was amused, and she knew she’d pay for teasing him about his sushi hostess. Jackson, on the other hand, had a mean glint in his eye. She wouldn’t put it past him to get her in trouble.
Blake grunted.
She jerked her hands back. “I’m sorry.” She glanced over at Jackson again. His head was turned, but his attention was still on the two of them.
Blake touched her hand. “It’s okay.” His words were for Jackson’s benefit, but the meaning behind them was for her. It was okay. He’d take care of Jackson. Her job was safe. He’d felt her fear, understood it, and with just whisper of a touch, he said he’d protect her.
Delay of Game (Dating Mr. Baseball Book 1) Page 6
