by Debra Elise
“Luke, my man. Good to see you. And you brought us a gift. Trying to class the joint up already, huh?” Howie held out a hand toward Lara. “Hi, I’m the drink slinger and you must be the gal who’s gotten this boy’s shorts in a twist.”
Saying that sixty-two-year-old Howie was a character merely scratched the surface of all that was the man who’d once played minor league baseball and tried his hand at sports casting, before he turned his love for all sports into a revenue stream.
Luke nodded at Howie as the man deftly finished off a draft order. “Howie, I’d like to introduce Lara Andretti, my physical therapist and . . .” He hesitated a bit too long and Lara interrupted and saved him from making an ass out of himself.
“Friend. Hi, Howie. Really nice to meet you. I’m impressed with your place here. It looks like you’re a big fan of the Outlaws.” She pointed to several posters showing Maverick and Luke during a game from last season. “Is it always so busy in here?”
“It is, lass. There’s always a game being played somewhere and at just about any time of year. Makes for steady business. We don’t like to pick favorites, but now with Maverick and Luke darkening the doorway, well, we seem to have a hardball game on more often than not.” Howie gave a belly laugh and wiped his hands on a bar rag. “Now, can I set you up with a pint or would you rather have a sissy glass of rosé?”
Lara turned toward Luke and said, “I think I like your friend.” She looked back at Howie. “Pour me your favorite, please.”
“Gladly. Now I have a table over here for you. Best in the place. I need a word with Luke. Just business, so if you want, I’ll have Luke here deliver the pint when it’s finished?”
Luke groaned. Real smooth, Howie. He wanted to tell the man Lara could stay and listen to whatever it was he had to say, but the look on his face stopped him and signaled there was more than just business on his mind.
He knew Howie to be pretty unflappable. He and Mav had discovered the bar their first week in town and become frequent customers and fast friends with the guy. If he needed a moment of privacy, he’d give it to him.
“Lara, I’m sure this will take just a minute and then we can watch Maverick struggle without me behind the plate.” He grinned. It wasn’t true, but it made him feel better thinking Mav only pitched his best when Luke was there to catch.
They both watched Lara walk over to the corner table. Howie motioned him farther down the bar, in the opposite direction. “So there was this guy in here last night stirring up trouble. Had the cops here and everything.”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that, man. What happened?”
“I wish it was as simple as just someone who couldn’t handle a pint or two, but this guy was harassing people from the moment he arrived. I had the game on, the Outlaws versus the Knights. It was a real pitchers’ duel last night. Our boy Mav was on it and—”
“Howie, I watched the game at home. So what happened with this guy?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. He was talking smack. About you, the team. And how he’d be surprised if the Outlaws made it till October with a bunch of pretty boys stealing everyone’s girlfriends. No one could get him to shut up. One of the bigger guys in the place had had enough and grabbed him around the back of the neck to drag his ass out of the place.”
“Shit.”
“‘Shit’ is right. I had several tables leave and a couple of small groups at the bar were talking like they wouldn’t be back if this was the kind of people who hung out here. Luke, I wanted you to know, because after I called the cops he wouldn’t leave the parking lot and started shouting obscenities. Then he made a statement about you.”
“Me?” Luke hadn’t had any problems with anyone. Sure, there was the random loudmouths at games who loved sitting behind home plate and heckling the visiting catcher. He’d even had a couple of instances at the Outlaws Stadium, but it had never gone further than the ballpark.
“What did he say?” Luke asked.
“Before I tell you, the sergeant who arrived on the scene told me afterward that the guy wasn’t drunk, but he was as high as a kite. So that got me thinking maybe he was hallucinating or something and didn’t have a clue what he was saying.”
“Howie, just spill it. What did this guy say about me?”
“He said ‘tell Luke Garibaldi, I’m taking him down.’ And something about he’ll pay for taking her away from me. And some other bullshit about how you’re washed up and the team’s going to cut you and put Chaz in the position full time.”
What. The. Fuck?
“Thanks for letting me know. Did you get a name on this guy?”
“Nate something or other. The sergeant seemed to know him and told me to keep an eye out for him. If he shows up here again, I’m going to call 911.”
“Yeah, you do that. Then you call me, okay?”
“Now Luke, you don’t want to get tangled up with some looney. Just let the cops deal with it, okay?”
Luke rubbed his chin and looked back to where Lara was sitting. Pretty as a picture and absorbed in the game. Shit. He didn’t want to ruin their time here. “Yeah, you bet, Howie. Thanks for letting me know. Say, how’s the back been treating you?”
The reason Howie had decided to sell the business was a chronic pain issue with his back, thanks to an old injury from his playing days. The timing for Luke was perfect, and Maverick would be a silent partner. He could learn the business during the off-season and when he was ready to hang up his chest protector, the business would be his.
“Oh, it’s about the same. Doctors keep telling me surgery will fix me right up, but I don’t trust a knife that close to my spine. So I’ll be keeping to my exercises for now.”
Howie handed over two pints and Luke carried them back to the table where Lara sat waiting for him. “Here you go, pretty lady. What’s the score?”
She gave him a bright smile and took a small sip. “Mmm. Not too bitter. I like it. The Outlaws are up a run. They’re in the second with one out. Maverick looks good. But Chaz’s butt isn’t nearly as cute as yours.” She grinned.
“Flattery will get you flat on your back, darling. Keep it up and we won’t be staying for the whole game.”
Lara laughed. The sound settled him. Better not get used to it, Garibaldi; this was temporary. Like all the others. Maybe now was a good time to remind her and himself.
They watched the game in companionable silence. Luke noticed again how many looks he and Lara were getting, mainly Lara. He felt a twinge of something unfamiliar and rubbed his chest to ward it off. He’d never been the jealous type and he wasn’t going to begin now.
Lara leaned forward into the table and reached across to trail her fingers over his forearm. “I was thinking, since the Outlaws are ahead by five, maybe we could leave and head back home and make it an early night?”
Her green eyes were dark with desire and her offer sounded good, but when she’d said the word “home,” it struck a nerve. It sounded too—domestic.
“You mean my house?” He wasn’t able to hide the hint of irritation in his tone and he watched her flinch at the sound of his voice.
“Well, um, yeah. I didn’t mean anything by it, Luke. It’s just a word.”
He rubbed his hand down his face. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it just hit me wrong considering this thing with us is just . . . temporary.”
Instead of becoming pissed at his reminder she sighed and gave him a sad look. “Luke, listen. I knew the score going in. We agreed to just having fun, no strings. I’m still with you on that, so don’t read too much into my choice of words, okay? I’m not looking to make you commit to anything other than that.”
“Right. Sorry. I guess things have just been so good between us that I’ve kinda been waiting for the usual drama that comes along with women.”
“Excuse me?”
Okay, so now he’d stepped in it. But to him it was what he knew. What had always come with being around women. If they didn’t get what they wanted, then the men
in their lives suffered. One of the reasons he kept things causal was he was done with the drama.
“Look, maybe not every woman. But I’ve had my fair share of emotional back-and-forth and I’ve learned to not get serious. About anyone. Life is much simpler that way.”
Lara looked at him like he’d suddenly sprouted two heads. Dammit, he didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. He lived his life the way it suited him, and it had, for the most part.
“Who let you down, Luke? Who painted women in such an ugly way that made you believe we’re all the same? Was it Syndi?” She reached over to him but stopped short of touching him. He shied away from her caress, but didn’t push her away. At least not yet.
He snorted and laughed. “No. She was just the last to prove my theory.”
“Not everyone is wired the same way, Luke. I’m sure that whatever past betrayal you suffered was not—”
“Not what, Lara? Personal? Done on purpose? Or how about she never meant to hurt me as she made my father pay for years of inattention; never meant to leave her son when he was only eight and start a new family, or . . .”
Lara covered her mouth at his declaration. She reached out again to comfort and this time he pulled back.
“She taught me that eventually all women walk away, Lara. It’s only a matter of when.”
“Tell me what happened. Luke, I’d like to think we’re friends too. I’m here to listen, be a sounding board if that’s what you need.”
Luke couldn’t believe he was sitting here with a woman who’d made him think he might want more than just sex, discussing a past he never shared with anyone before. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he and Mav ever discussed what his mother had done to him his rookie year.
“Okay, Lara. You want the ugly truth. Here it is. Not only did my mother leave my father and me when I was eight, she decided to re-enter my life just when I had been drafted into the USBL.
“Oh, she played me good. She was so sorry and blamed everything that happened on my father. Told me how much she loved me, and I ate it up with a spoon. She was hooked up with a different guy than the one she left my dad for. He was supposed to be some investment wizard and she convinced me to have him negotiate my contract.”
Luke watched as Lara closed her eyes and shook her head. “Yeah, I’m sure you can guess what happened next. He managed to put into the contract that my mother would receive my signing bonus and I wouldn’t see any money until later in the season. By the time I figured out what happened, they’d both disappeared.”
Damn. He hated reliving that time of his life. He watched as Lara wiped a tear from her eye. He didn’t want her pity. All he wanted was her in his bed. That’s it. He shouldn’t have said anything.
He stood up. “Hell, forget I said anything. That was a long time ago. Let’s go. I’ll say good-bye to Howie and meet you outside.”
After he settled up with Howie and asked him again to keep him informed of any more trouble at the bar, he found Lara standing next to her car staring up into the sky. He needed to change the mood so there would be no more questions.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about how he wished to hell his mom had been different and her actions hadn’t damaged him to the point that he was incapable of having a real relationship with a woman.
CHAPTER 19
The next morning Lara lay in Luke’s bed daydreaming as she listened to him snoring softly. She’d been awake for a while now thinking about Luke’s mother and how she’d betrayed him. Who did that? No wonder Luke was leery of commitment. She’d like five minutes alone with the woman, but that was wishful thinking and it wasn’t her place.
It did, however, explain a lot about Luke’s reputation with women and his skewed ideas on relationships. It’s a wonder he even let her sleep over. To her that signaled commitment, but to him it probably just seemed convenient since she was also helping him out with the house and his knee.
It was probably best she knew. The more time she spent with him the harder it was becoming for her to not daydream about some kind of future with him. Luke’s issues with women were not hers to fix. So she would continue on as they had been and enjoy the bliss she’d discovered in his arms until it was time to leave.
She dozed a bit longer before she finally got up. Sleeping in was now a luxury, and being wrapped up next to Luke’s hard, warm body was something she shouldn’t get used to.
She left Luke’s bed as quietly as she could when nature called. She looked down at his relaxed, handsome face. A flash of last night’s events hit her; his mouth and hands all over her body inspired her to return to bed as soon as possible.
She splashed cold water on her face, reached for a towel, and bumped a plastic bottle onto the floor. She patted her face and bent down to retrieve it, her plan for silence forgotten. The name on the prescription bottle read Lucas Garibaldi. The name of the drug—Adderall. What was Luke doing with an ADHD med?
She would swear that when they’d gone over his medical history at his first session he didn’t mention it. Her heart began to thud as she remembered JR’s words, “It’d be a shame to disappoint all those adoring fans of his if they found out he’d been . . .” Been what? Living a lie?
She squeezed the bottle in her hands and cursed herself as all kinds of fool. She knew the signs of a user. Had been trained during her pursuit of her degree and had several patients she’d dealt with at the clinic. And then there was her ex. Alcohol had been his choice, but all substance abusers had one thing in common. They were proficient at lying and in the art of cover-up.
Her body rigid with anger, she marched into the bedroom and whipped the sheets off Luke’s sleeping form. Damn, he had a great butt. Her gaze traveled up his backside and onto his wide shoulders. The arms that had held her last night were cradling his lying, cheating, fat head. She let him have it.
“Luke, get your ass out of bed. We need to talk.”
A groggy “what the fuck” came from the man she now worried placing her trust in was a bad move.
Downstairs in the kitchen she rummaged around, banging cupboards and slamming objects on the counter. She found a bottle of whiskey, probably left over from Maverick’s days of hard drinking, and thought about fixing herself an Irish coffee but dismissed that thought. She needed her wits about her to deal with the shit storm that’d now become her life.
She heard Luke’s footsteps, what sounded like a thud, followed by shouts of “Lara?” and “Jesus H . . .” and “Come back here.” She knew his knee wouldn’t allow him to bound out of bed and immediately down the stairs, which gave her time to cool down and think about how she wanted to approach this.
She placed the prescription bottle on the island, poured some coffee and let Indy outside to take care of business. The curly-haired ball of fur had quickly found a spot in her heart.
She sat down on one of the lounge chairs and let the lake view and clear blue skies soothe her temper while she waited. Indy ran over and sat down next to her. Lara began rubbing his belly. She closed her eyes and listened to the distant rush of the river’s current on the east side of the house. She’d finally settled down her pounding heart rate when she heard Luke’s cane, tap-tap, on the concrete patio.
“You’re spoiling him. He’s going to expect me to rub his belly every morning after you leave.” He made his way to a patio chair and turned it to face her.
Which might be sooner than you think. Lara squinted at him as he adjusted his large frame into a comfortable position and propped his bum leg on the end of her lounge chair. She noticed he was clutching something in his right hand. The orangish bottle she’d left on the kitchen island.
“So, this what set you off this morning?” he asked.
“Actually, yes. You didn’t say anything to me about a prescription for Adderall when we went over your medical history. And I need to hear you say this prescription is legitimate and that you have some type of diagnosis to go along with it.”
“This is not the usual topic of co
nversation I have the morning after some medal-worthy sex.”
“Making light of this will just make me get up and leave.”
When he didn’t respond she looked over at him again and saw something on his face she would have never associated with the all-star catcher.
Vulnerability. And perhaps shame. She nudged Indy up and toward Luke’s chair. He leaned down and placed the pup on his lap and began scratching the sweet spot behind Indy’s left ear.
“I have a doctor’s prescription, and yes, I was diagnosed when I was seven with attention deficit hyperactivity.”
Luke’s voice had a raw edge to it. She’d hit a nerve, that was for sure. And there was a story behind why he’d been hiding his diagnosis from her.
“What the hell is going on here, Lara? So I didn’t tell you about the Adderall. It’s not a subject I typically advertise.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Care to share?”
“Maybe. I’ve never told anyone, and other than filling out forms for the league to satisfy the intent-to-use clause, no one knows, except Mav. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t tell anyone, but I haven’t purposely kept it a secret from him.”
She finished off her coffee and prepared herself for fireworks. “JR said something to me before you rescued me, and I need you to tell me the truth, Luke. Have you ever used steroids?”
The shock on his face said it all.
“What the hell? You’re going to take that piece of crap’s word as gospel?” Luke, knee and puppy forgotten, lifted himself out of the chair and groaned, while poor Indy yelped and jumped off his lap.
“I didn’t. Not at first. Then I saw the bottle in your medicine cabinet and my mind jumped to what JR said and . . .” She held out her hands and stopped talking before she said something that she couldn’t take back.
So she took the coward’s way out and headed back into the house. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get you an ice pack for your knee.”
