by V. K. Sykes
She held his gaze, praying she hadn’t made a huge blunder by coming here. She couldn’t afford to offend him, but she had a job to do and he needed to be clear on that. Whatever else might be going on she could address later, after she got her interview.
If she got her interview.
Jake took a drink, his eyes narrowed in concentration. She had to repress the temptation to fiddle with something—always a dead giveaway whenever her insecurities rose to the surface—but she vowed not to back down. She’d be willing to bet that no other reporter had ever stated the matter so bluntly, or under such unusual circumstances. He’d always made it clear to the world that he was a very private person, rebuffing any attempt to get him to talk about anything other than baseball. And although he had a well-deserved reputation for being a gentleman, she knew Jake had told more than one pushy reporter to mind his own damn business. His personal life had always been out of bounds to the press and the public.
As the silence between them lengthened, and Jake’s inscrutable expression revealed nothing, the butterflies in Maddie’s stomach took a synchronized nosedive. It looked like her exclusive, ground-breaking interview would be over before it started.
* * *
When Maddie first appeared in the restaurant, Jake had figured “spectacular” was a safe adjective to use to describe her appearance. He hadn’t said what he was really thinking—that she was incredibly, mind-numbingly hot. In a bright red and white outfit, she looked like a delectable, cherry-topped dessert. Add in her sharp intelligence and hints of a sweet vulnerability, and the lady was all but irresistible. Jake was fervently hoping he’d get a chance to sample all that sweetness in the very near future.
But now she’d thrown a spanner in the works, and he very much doubted his standard answer to her request would get him any closer to his goal. He never talked about his personal life with any of the media hounds, and he wasn’t inclined to break the habit. Still, as he studied her crystal blue gaze and open but slightly defiant expression, all he could read was sincerity and honesty. Maddie Leclair didn’t strike him as anything but what she appeared to be, and his instincts told him to trust her, especially since she was risking a lot by agreeing to meet him so privately.
Go for it, dude.
Mentally shrugging, he decided to let her sneak past his self-imposed boundaries. If the interview started to go off the rails he’d pull her back, regardless of the impact on his goals for the evening. “Let’s give it a try, Maddie. Just be aware that I don’t find it easy to talk about those things to anybody. I’m not particularly clever when it comes to talking about myself, or my personal life.”
She blinked twice, as if she hadn’t expected his answer. “I don’t want you to be clever, Jake,” she blurted out. “That’s exactly what I don’t want. I want sincerity.”
Jake nodded. “Fine. I’m prepared to trust you on this. So, you don’t have to clear a draft of the article with me first, though I appreciate the offer.” He was going out on a limb with this one, but his instincts rarely steered him wrong. Plus, he had every expectation that his show of good faith would help him to get a hell of a lot closer to her by the time the evening was through.
Her delighted smile suggested he’d hit the mark. “Jake, that’s wonderful. And I promise you can trust me. This isn’t 60 Minutes. I’m not trying to break some big network story. I’d just like my readers to get to know the real Jake Miller, that’s all.” She wrinkled her cute little nose. “If this works, it works. If it doesn’t, then I’ll be writing about the ankle and knees after all, I guess.”
He laughed. Her enthusiasm seemed so disarmingly sincere that Jake found it hard to believe he couldn’t trust her. Maybe he was being naïve, because he’d been burned a couple of times early in his career by lying reporters. Not that Maddie was your average sports reporter—not by a long shot. “Sounds good. But now that we’ve established the ground rules, why don’t we order dinner first? Then you can start on me right after.” And with any luck, Jake would be starting in on her after she’d taken her best shot at him.
After the waiter had taken their orders, Maddie turned the recorder on again. “I’d like you to start by telling me a little about what it was like for you growing up in small-town Minnesota.”
He had no trouble with her easy first lob. “I can start by saying that almost all the memories I have of growing up are good ones. Not much angst, not a whole lot of drama. Mom and Dad raised five kids on one income and gave us the best home they possibly could. I’m the youngest, so of course everyone babied me. It was a really nice small town where folks generally looked out for each other.”
Jake paused, fully aware of how blessedly ordinary his young life had been. “Some of my best memories are of our big, family dinners. My grandma—Mom’s mom—would put one on at her house every month. There were so many of us that we had to eat in shifts. It was old-fashioned stuff, I guess, but I loved every minute of it. Unfortunately, it’ll probably put your readers to sleep. Unless they’re big fans of The Waltons.”
Maddie’s only response was a wistful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It made him wonder what her own childhood had been like, and whether she envied his small town upbringing.
“What else would you like to know?” he gently prompted.
Her eyes widened and a faint blush tinged her cheeks. “Tell me about the sports you played as a kid. Were you always a natural at baseball? And what about other sports?”
That was an easy one, although a totally honest answer would make him sound arrogant. “I was pretty good at everything. I played it all—baseball, football, basketball, hockey, curling. I was lucky enough to do well with all of them, especially baseball. But I really liked hockey, too. I was offered a scholarship to play hockey at the University of Minnesota, but that’s a whole other story.”
“Wow,” she said, looking genuinely impressed. “That’s pretty cool. But let’s stick with baseball for the moment. Why did that top out everything else for you?”
“Because of my dad. He played lower level pro ball in the minors in the sixties, but wasn’t quite good enough for the majors. Dad taught me how to play the game right, and how to prepare myself both physically and mentally. It’s because of him that the scouts came to town to look at me even as a high school junior, and that I was drafted by the Patriots in my senior year. I really do owe it all to him.”
“What about your mother? Are you close to her, too?”
Again, he heard that wistful note in her voice, one that seemed to mirror what he felt whenever he thought about his mom. “She’s the best. She raised five kids, made a terrific home for her husband and family, volunteered at all kinds of things, and could do anything with her hands. She remodeled the bathroom, fixed plumbing, sewed clothes, knit sweaters, you name it. I always thought there was nothing she couldn’t do.”
Maddie frowned. “Why do you say ‘was’?”
Sorrow pinged in his chest. Christ, he hated talking about his feelings. But he’d let Maddie start this, so he might as well finish it. “She’s been suffering from brutal rheumatoid arthritis for over ten years. She doesn’t have much use of her hands any more, and just getting around is harder every day. In fact, everything is hard for her now because of the constant pain.” And for all his wealth, and his ability to pay for the best doctors and medications, there wasn’t a lot Jake could do to relieve her suffering. He struggled with his grief over her decline and his own frustration on a daily basis.
“But Dad has been fantastic,” he continued, forcing a smile. He had no intention of coming off as Mr. Doom and Gloom in this interview. His mom would give him hell if he did. “He’s taken over everything. He cooks, cleans, does the shopping…everything. My sisters and my sisters-in-law help out, and I pay for whatever the stubborn old mule will let me. But it’s really Dad who’s stepped up to the plate. He cares for her with such patience and love, even though it’s really hard on him, too. I think that kind of love and devotion o
ver forty-five years of marriage is pretty damn rare. At least it’s not something I’ve seen that often, and I’ve had a fair amount of life experience to draw upon.”
He clamped his mouth shut. Now he was starting to sound like an ass, and a cynical one at that. Better to quit before he dug a deeper hole.
CHAPTER FOUR
Much to Jake’s surprise, Maddie wasn’t in a hurry to break the silence between them. He stared at her, intrigued by the emotions playing across her beautiful face in response to his goofy ramblings. She seemed completely absorbed in him, almost as if she’d forgotten they were in the middle of an interview. When he’d explained about his mother’s illness, her expression had conveyed a ton of genuine sympathy and concern. But when he talked about his parents’ marriage, she had started looking wistful again. Even a little sad, if he didn’t miss his guess.
What did she have to be sad about?
“I get that about your parents’ relationship,” she finally said in a soft voice. “My folks were like that, too. Completely devoted to each other.”
He heard the pain in her voice. “Were like that?” he asked cautiously. “What happened?”
“My dad died young—at only fifty-seven. I was fourteen at the time.” Her gaze slid down and she started to fiddle with the buttons on the recorder. That seemed to be a tell for her—something she did when nerves got the better of her.
“What about siblings, or other family?” He couldn’t imagine going through something like that without his brothers and sisters and his huge extended family to lend support.
Maddie looked up, her big blue eyes darkening. “No. Just me and Mom.”
She looked so sad and lonely, and so freaking beautiful, that it practically killed him not to touch her. He had to fight the powerful urge to pull her into his lap and cradle her against him, kissing her sweet, sorrowful mouth until the tragic look in her eyes faded away.
Idiot. I barely know her. “I’m sorry, Maddie,” he said, knowing the words were inadequate for the loss she’d suffered. “I’m glad you had your mom, though. You two must be close.”
She drew in a sharp breath, as if some terrible pain had lanced through her, deep in the core of her body. For a moment she obviously waged some kind of internal battle, then she regained her composure. Her gaze seemed to shutter and her mouth set in a firm line.
“Very close,” she said in a clipped voice. “But we’re not here to talk about my life, right? Why don’t we get back on track?”
“Okay.” He didn’t know whether to feel frustrated or relieved. Their conversation had veered into difficult territory, and he sure as hell didn’t feel equipped to deal with all that emotion. But she fascinated him, and he found himself wanting to know more about her—and not just between the sheets, either.
Plus, if they were talking about her, they weren’t talking about him. That was one of the reasons he hated interviews. It seemed impossible to say anything about himself without sounding like a celebrity athlete with a swelled head, or some kind of heartland farmer boy parody.
Maddie straightened in her chair, all business now. “Jake, it seems pretty clear from what you just said a few moments ago that you haven’t been very lucky in love. I understand you were married once, though, for a brief time.”
Shit. What in God’s name had led him to make those pronouncements about love? He’d opened the door and let her walk right into that one. Still, maybe he could turn it to his advantage, using his life as an excuse to pry into hers. Getting Maddie to let down her guard might happen more easily if he shared at least some of the gory details of his love life, even though he still hated even thinking about his failed marriage.
He shrugged, going for casual. “It seems like a whole other life now. I got married at nineteen to my high school sweetheart. Prom queen marries school jock hero. It’s a cliché, sure, but the whole town was pretty excited about it. Jennie was a great girl, and we were crazy in love and hot for each other in every way you can imagine.” He shot her a wry grin. “Dumb, huh?”
An intriguing blush crept over Maddie’s cheeks. “I don’t know. It sounds very romantic to me.”
Again, her slender fingers played with the buttons on her recorder. Obviously, even veiled references to his sex life made her fidget. Jake was beginning to suspect that despite her bombshell looks, Maddie was less experienced when it came to sex than he’d originally assumed. He had to admit that intrigued him, too.
“Romantic, yeah. Everyone else thought that at the time, too,” he replied dryly. “Except for my mother. She knew it was stupid, but she figured I’d have to make my own mistakes. Anyway, right after high school I got drafted and sent to play Rookie League ball in the South, and Jennie and I missed each other like hell. So, at the end of my first pro season we decided to get married.” He shook his head. All these years later, he still couldn’t believe how clueless he’d been. “But it lasted less than two years. Can you imagine how weird it felt to have your marriage already on the scrap heap at twenty-one?”
Maddie tilted her head, as if really weighing the question. He liked that about her. Liked that she took things so seriously.
“Not really,” she finally said in a thoughtful voice.
“Be glad you never had to find out. The problem was that Jennie couldn’t hack being married to a minor league ballplayer. You know what that’s like. Your husband’s always at the park, or away riding some bus with the team. I couldn’t really blame her for how she reacted, but her unhappiness made me unhappy, too. The atmosphere at home made it impossible for me to concentrate on improving my game. If we’d gone on that way, I might never have made the majors, and she’d probably have stayed miserable. So, splitting up turned out to be best for both of us in the end.”
He’d gotten over it—mostly. But he still couldn’t repress a twinge of resentment that his ex hadn’t been able to take the long view of things and support him when he was trying to get ahead for both their sakes.
She nodded sympathetically. “Life in the minors has to be tough for everyone. In your case, it sounds like one of those situations where it’s not really anybody’s fault. Your wife obviously didn’t understand what she was getting into. Besides, you were both so young. Babies, really.”
Maddie Leclair would have stuck it out, he’d be willing to bet. If Jennie had only been more like her…Christ, Miller. Get a grip. You just met the woman.
Mentally shrugging off his bizarre reaction, he tried to get back to the conversation. “Actually, it was mostly my fault, at least when I married her. I should have tried harder to make sure she really understood what she was getting into.”
Maddie frowned, staring down at the table. “Sometimes people just don’t appreciate what’s right in front of them. I’m sure you did everything you could.”
She seemed like she wanted to say something more, but then quickly shifted gears. “But what about all the years since the marriage ended, Jake? You’ve been linked to a few women since then, and you’re one of the most admired single men in baseball, maybe even all of sports. So, why do you think Ms. Right hasn’t come along yet?”
She finally lifted her eyes to meet his, that faint blush once again coloring her cheeks. She looked so damn cute and unsure of herself—despite her attempt to be all business—that he thought it would be a miracle if he could keep his hands off her much longer.
Jake responded to her question with a lame, evasive answer about his career coming first, and not wanting to get distracted by all the crap that came with dating a celebrity athlete. The reality, of course, was that he’d been spooked by his failed marriage and had no intention of risking a repeat any time soon. Fortunately, before she could prod him for more details, the waiter arrived with their food and Maddie switched off the recorder.
As they ate, with the waiter replenishing their wine glasses on a regular basis, they fell into an easy, comfortable chat about the Padres series and the team’s upcoming trip to Phoenix. When Jake finished his meal ahe
ad of her, and even though she’d eaten only half her food, Maddie asked if he was ready to resume the interview.
“Sure,” he said, convinced the hard part was over. Maybe he’d even turn the tables on Maddie and quiz her about her personal life.
“Great,” she said. “I want to get back your love life. You were evading my question a while ago, weren’t you?”
Jake repressed a sigh. He should have known she wouldn’t let him get away that easy. Maddie was way too smart and perceptive to be fooled by standard interview crap. “You mean, why my love life is such a failure?” he asked in a wry tone.
He said it lightly, but he wanted to make it clear that the topic wasn’t something he liked to talk about.
She furrowed her brow. “You know I didn’t say that, Jake.”
She wasn’t backing down.
“Okay, Maddie. Here’s the truth. A lot of the guys in the game avoid marriage like it’s a jail sentence—like they could never handle not being able to hook up with whatever babe happens to be hanging around the team at the moment. It’s an incredible temptation, and I totally understand that. Most of the players are young and having the time of their lives. Why should they lock themselves into marriage when they can have their pick of the field?”
Her features tightened with disdain, and something else, too. Disappointment, it looked like, disappointment in him. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.
Jake smiled, drawing the moment out. “But that’s not me, Maddie. I’m in my thirties now, and still not in any kind of permanent relationship. But it’s not because I want the single life forever. And I don’t like the way some of the guys treat women—like they’re some kind of commodity to be used once or twice and thrown away.”
