Surely they’d change their minds? Apparently not. Jason had bought tickets on the third base line, right next to the dugout, so he could make a valiant effort at heckling the opposing team. Abby rolled her eyes when he started the first round of insults before a single pitch had crossed the plate. It had been his mode of operation since Little League. She’d hated it then and now. As a teen, she made sure to sit as far from him as possible, hoping no one knew they were blood. Fat chance. Tonight, she’d grin and bear it with pride because her entire family was visiting for the first time ever. Who knows? Maybe the Astros would win too—they were certainly due. It had been a rough season.
Besides, this week she’d decided to finally clear the air with Carter and her conscience would be clean and clear for the first time in months. She’d call him tomorrow. Her shoulders had knots the size of boulders and she couldn’t wait to get rid of the tension. Her family would be her support system.
Abby surveyed the empty seats flanking her. Except they’d all disappeared and left her—alone again. Great. The national anthem hasn’t even begun and they all ran off. She shrugged. Probably to shop or load up on beer and hotdogs.
The two-story-sized speakers crackled above then burst into action. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special program for you tonight. As you know, the Astros have entered the social media arena and our marketing group heavily searches for ways to improve our branding and offer you a better baseball experience. We also love finding local businesses that portray the spirit and entrepreneurial attitude that makes Houston a great place to live. Lisa, in marketing, happened onto one such business recently and tweeted out a link.”
“All of you responded in force and gave amazing support—not just to the business, but to the people affected by the business. Soooo, one gentleman whom you all decided to adopt and—let’s say—show the way, wanted to return the favor. Everyone, give a hand for—”
“Excuse me, ma’am. Can you come with me please?” Abigail rotated to a stadium employee with a security badge.
Huh? Is something wrong? Did Jason do something stupid like attempt to run out on the field? Dammit! He did. Her brother was standing next to another security staffer. Right next to the rest of her family … on the field. What the hell?
“What have they done? Am I in trouble? I had nothing to do with whatever it is, okay?”
Her family had been in town less than a few hours and already made their presence known in front of the biggest crowd ever. She wanted to run into the bathroom and hide, but the security person slipped his fingers around her arm and motioned her to the steps then to an elevator that required a special key. “You’re not in trouble. Right this way, ma’am.”
She might not be in trouble, but whatever they’d planned was going to be serious trouble when they made it back to her place. Maybe the lack of family involvement the past few years was a plus. How many times had she been publicly humiliated before? None. Okay, except for baring her undies at a craft fair, but that was her own fault.
Holy crap, the entire baseball team was standing in front of her and this guy was leading her—to them? He opened a gate and motioned for her to step onto the grass.
This was surreal—her pseudo-bodyguard led her down the third base line then across to second. She shook hands with each of the baseball players and they handed her—roses? It wasn’t Valentine’s Day, or her birthday. There were no holidays nearby. She smiled and thanked each of them. God, it would be nice to think up something witty. If I could swallow my tongue long enough to do so. And if I knew what the hell this was about. Has the anthem been sung yet? I am NOT singing. No way. She shook her head as another rose was thrust her way.
“You don’t want it?” Bo Porter, the Astros manager is talking to me? Someone prop me up before I pass out.
“Oh, uh, yes. Thank you. By the way—I’ve been watching your son. Think he’ll match your record?”
The man winked and laughed. “I’ve been watching him too—and if genetics has anything to do with it, we’ll see.”
Yay. The end of the line. Now what? Her stomach churned. What was the entire stadium about to witness, and why did her family stand there waiting? With flowers. Good grief. She worked with flowers all day. It wasn’t a big deal.
They all had daisies, her favorite—second to orchids, of course. Orchids were too high maintenance. Aw, that had to be Jason’s idea—he was the only one she’d told.
“Step aside, old man.”
She knew that voice. Intimately. Carter?
A hand slipped out and shoved Bo just before he stepped out. “Hi, there.”
Uh-oh—her gut was quaking. Her knees started to buckle.
He grabbed her hand to stabilize her. “You okay?” Damn that smile.
She could stare at him all day. In fact, she probably was staring.
“Uh, I think so. You did all this?” She waved at the crowd. Holy shit they were standing. For her? Her ears were ringing and dark circles clouded her vision. “I think I’m going to pass out. Carter, look—I told you I’m sorry. I really never meant—” She grabbed his bicep to keep her knees from buckling.
He was going to do this right here in front of an entire stadium full of people? He grinned. “I know you never meant to hurt me. You never wanted to cause all the commotion. And you never meant to lie. Basically, you meant to stand in the background, but that didn’t work. Here, I brought you flowers.”
She stared at the froth of color he handed her. Orchids. “But you hate flowers.”
“I had a phobia about them, yes—which some of these people pointed out over and over again. I’m working on it.”
“I love orchids.” Abby peered deeper at the colors. “And daisies.”
He stepped in so close she smelled him. “Your brother told me. About the daisies. Caroline mentioned the orchids.” He pointed behind her and she swerved to see … Caroline? Yep, and Roger. Hmmm, and the two exes? As in ex-girlfriend and ex-best friend?
Abby brought her gaze back to Carter, knowing he was the only thing that kept her from fainting into the plastic cushion of second base. “You want to tell me what this is all about?”
“Sure, it’s about you. I have a question to ask.”
She vaguely heard the crowd cheer and an announcer’s voice. The signs across the top of the stadium blared in bright white lights: “Will she?” Uh-oh. The clamminess of her skin took over and her eyes went completely black. Thump. She smelled the dirt just before her face planted into it over the mound of second base. Then she saw nothing. Voices around her clamored.
She had no idea how long she lay there. Passed out on the Astros baseball field. Before an entire stadium of people. When her eyes finally cooperated and she was able to open them, Carter was right in front of her. And he was smiling. Geez, she wished he’d stop that. Or maybe not. It was the only thing that had kept her from passing out earlier and the one thing she could focus on now. The thunder of the fans yelling, whistling, and cheering roared around them.
And he laughed!
She furrowed her brows. “Knock it off. This isn’t the least bit funny. I just passed out in front of a baseball stadium of people, my family, and the entire Astros team. You brought me here for this? I mean I know I … ”
“Abby, I just want to ask you a very easy question.”
She held up a finger to stop him and shook her head. “No! I don’t even know you. I mean we weren’t even … okay, maybe I do know you that way … but not this way.”
He grabbed her face with both hands and she stopped talking when he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “Not that question, babe. Neither one of us is ready for that yet. Abs, you said you always wanted to do this with someone that you cared about.”
Her face burned. “Eventually most people want to…”
“Would you kisscam me?”
Huh, what? Kisscam? Not … “Oh. Uh, you did all this just for—the kisscam?” She looked up and saw the two of them on every camera in t
he stadium. Yikes. She had dirt in her hair and plastered to her neck. And white chalk from the baseline!
Carter shook his head. “I didn’t.” He waved at the people down the first base line, which included his family, the exes, Caroline, and a few strangers. “They did. Well, actually we did. They had to beat it into my head about the flowers and then I made them pay for it by showing up here. I told them I got the message, but I wasn’t going to believe it unless you did.”
“Believe what?”
“That being the center of attention with flowers—or cameras—or the media can be good if there’s love and affection behind it. No matter what the situation. You really should read your blog someday. Caroline has really done a number on both of us. So, all these people are tired of waiting to find out.”
She blinked because her eyes had stayed open and were dry. “Find out what?”
“If you’re going to kiss me so we can get this game started.”
Holy shit. He had done all this just to get her out here for something that she’d mentioned in passing. And the flowers. They were splayed around her like spilled cards. A carpet of color and scents. She slid her hands up his shirt and wrapped the collar tight in her fingers. Then she yanked him in. Yep. She kissed him on the kisscam in front of the world. The roar of the crowd around them was nothing compared to the thunder of her heart thumping.
When they finally separated, she sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t Jackson and I answered your messages.”
“I’m not.”
She let her weight sink into him. That was good. Maybe she wasn’t sorry, either. But … there was still one more thing—
“Oh, and Abs, Caroline told me about your other identity.”
Her eyes popped up. “So you know I’m ‘She Hearts Dogs.’ You’re not mad?”
“I was at first, then I realized something. That was the real us. The way things should have happened if meddling friends and family hadn’t gotten involved. See, no matter how hard we fight this thing, you and I will just keep getting thrown together until we stick.”
Her insides heated. “You think so?” He wanted them to stick?
She liked the sound of that.
EPILOGUE
Eight months, one week, and two days later …
Carter scooted his barstool to the table and held up a hand to the bartender to order a beer. Jackson and Roger sat opposite and two other newbies from the office flanked him. “Sorry I’m late, guys. What’s the score?” They’d all agreed to watch the game at the sports bar by the office, since time was short.
“Five to three, good guys.” Jackson drew from his glass. “What took you so long?”
“I had to make a pit stop. Check this out.” Carter pulled the box from his pocket and set it on the table. The entire group did a double-take.
“Whoa,” Roger said. “Is that what I think it is?”
Carter popped the lid open to display the diamond nestled in the white silk lining. “Yep, sure is. What d’ya think?” He grinned.
Jackson leaned forward. “So, she’s seriously the model you want to buy, bro? You sure about that, mister short-term lease? I mean, she’s nice and all, but that’s … big.”
Carter punched him in the arm, enjoying the pain as his friend attempted to rub it away. “You’re one to talk. You’re biting the bullet in what … two weeks?”
Jackson relaxed back. “Good point. Still, you guys have only been together a year. What’s the rush?”
“It’s almost two years if you count all the time we were dodging each other because of you, asshole.”
Jackson held up his hands. “Hey, I had nothing to do with that … uh … okay, well, maybe a little, but not with Abby. That was all your mess. So, what makes you think she’ll say yes?”
The scent caught his attention before her voice, but he knew Abby was behind him when Roger blurted out a curse and looked past his shoulder.
“What makes you think she won’t?” she said.
Carter whirled in his chair.
Abby dropped both hands to her hips and challenged Jackson. “Hmmm?”
Dammit, this wasn’t right. Jackson. He furrowed his brow and growled at the man across from him. “Dammit, Jackson—do you have to screw up everything for me?”
Carter wrapped his arms around and drew Abby into a kiss so long his friends turned to the game and Roger muttered, “Get a room.”
When they broke free, her eyes had water puddled in them and they glittered like stars. He put his forehead to hers. “So, um, this wasn’t exactly what I had planned. Pretend you didn’t see that.”
She untangled an arm from his chest and pulled the box from the table then slipped the ring into place. “We promised each other honesty, remember? Pretending would be a lie. Besides, I honestly want to wear it and—the answer is yes.”
“I’m sorry. I meant to ask you at dinner later with candles and wine. And flowers. I love you, Abs. As in foreverness.”
She giggled and pulled him back in for a kiss. “I love you as in foreverness too.”
He gave Jackson another scolding glare, though it was lost on the man as he lifted his drink to toast them.
Carter snorted. “Remind me to make your life as miserable as you’ve made mine someday.”
Amanda approached in her perfectly starched business suit and Jackson pulled her in tight. “You’ll get your chance in two weeks, best man.”
“Huh, what? I thought Roger was the best man.” Best man? In Jackson and Amanda’s wedding? It was ironic if he stopped to think.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want it so I asked him first—but you know I’d never really want anyone else. Sorry, Roger.”
Roger nodded and stuck a finger in the air. “You guys all make me sick anyway.” Still, he winked at Abby.
Was Carter ready to write off all that happened? He wasn’t sure. Then Abby gave him that damned smile that killed him during the seventh inning stretch. Yeah, he guessed so.
“Okay, I’ll be your damn best man, but you need to know—paybacks are hell.”
About the Author
A little about me … I grew up on a farm near a small town called Peculiar, which is just south of Kansas City. I’m a graduate of Oklahoma State University with additional post-graduate studies at OSU and University of Wyoming in Casper. I married my college sweetheart while still an undergraduate, and we have three kids.
I’ve had a long and prosperous career in technology and still actively work as a technology consultant. A few years ago, I chose to go back to my first love of writing and have enjoyed every word. I hope you will too.
More from This Author
(From The Designated Drivers’ Club by Shelley K. Wall)
The wind shoved Jenny Madison through the bar door into the mass of noise and people. A paper sign taped to the window fluttered next to her, an advertisement for the play Home is Love. A clever patron had crossed the word home and penned DRINKING over.
Jenny concentrated on the prior word and squelched a desire to go there.
“Yeah, and you’ll be locked out of it if you don’t get busy,” she muttered. Her boss’ words rang heavily, scratch that, ex-boss’. He had fired her because her attitude didn’t fit their work environment. A stack of bills pended disaster if she didn’t forge ahead.
Jenny walked with faked confidence into the crowded club. She carried business cards, monogrammed notepads, and refrigerator magnets with her new business name. This was her fourth stop of the evening. She adjusted her denim skirt down over her legs and tugged the lapels of her black jacket forward. Admittedly, it wasn’t as professional as she wanted but it sufficed. She had not worn heels in a month and now that she donned a pair, her feet complained.
“The Designated Driver’s Club.” A petite brunette with studs in her eyebrow read from the business card. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a membership thing. You pay either annually or monthly. We pick you up anywhere you want and take you home, then back to
your car the next day — or we deliver it if preferred. Our drivers are safe, alcohol-free, have good driving records, and we guarantee you won’t get a DUI.” Jenny mustered up her best cheerful smile. “And all for a price that’s less than the cost of a ticket.”
“You’ll pick up anywhere in the city?” The girl’s stud lifted along with the brow attached to it.
“Yes. Anywhere.”
“Wow. Great idea.”
“Thanks. You can sign up on the website listed on the card, or call that number there.” Jenny ran her finger along the print. “We take all major credit cards. Oh, and we don’t lecture anyone or give them a hard time. Our drivers are courteous and confidential. We recognize everyone needs to have a good time once in a while — we just want it to end well, too.”
She flashed a final smile at the table, ran her tongue over her teeth and moved on. Her cheeks ached and her lips cracked from forced cheerfulness. A few more tables and she would step back outside and teeter her heeled feet to the car.
“Hey!” A tall twenty-something guy with shaggy dark hair called after her. “How many drivers do you have?”
“Enough,” she answered with fake assurance. Okay, a little white lie — but she doubted it would matter. If, by chance, she had more calls than she could handle, she could recruit a few friends to help. Or — even better — hire someone. Her own staff. That sounded impressive.
Jenny whipped around to get the final tables just in time to meet a cocktail waitress head-on. The waitress was quick and evaded the collision. Jenny wasn’t as speedy. Her hand full of cards and goodies fluttered to the floor, spreading out in a small carpet of paper. Footsteps threatened to trample her stash. She let out a curse, bent, gathered them quickly and rose with a huff.
“Nice.” A male voice admired from behind her. She turned, catching blue twinkling eyes focused on her backside. Her face reddened as she remembered her denim skirt had “bite me” emblazoned on the pocket. She had a black jacket over it and thought it would cover everything enough to look professional but casual. Ignoring his chuckle, she plopped a few business cards and notepads on the table. The men with him picked up the cards and read.
Text Me Page 24
