by Sykes, V. K.
“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, buddy,” Jake said apologetically, “but I can’t say I’m surprised she was so upset.”
Nate shook his head and muttered a curse.
“Relax. Just hear me out,” Jake added quickly. “You’re my best friend, and you know I’d take a bullet for you, just like you would for me. But on this one…well, I think I can see how Holly would be thinking.”
Nate raised his palms in a defensive gesture. “Okay, I get that. I’m not a moron. I know it’s not what she wanted to hear, but she didn’t have to go ballistic over it.”
“You don’t listen too good sometimes, do you?” Jake said sarcastically. “Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted me, I don’t know Holly that well, but Maddie talks a lot about her. As far as I can tell, she’s been a workaholic all her life, and hasn’t exactly played the field, to put it mildly. But she’s in her early thirties, and she’s starting to think about settling down with somebody. Maybe even have kids.”
Kids. Nate had never ruled that out, but when he looked at the mess his sister had created with her marriage, he was glad he didn’t have to face a decision on that any time soon. “Like I said,” he responded dryly, “it’s kind of early to be thinking that far ahead, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. But Maddie thinks Holly doesn’t want to put a lot of time and emotion into a relationship that’s not going to end up in the place she wants it to be. I can understand that—can’t you?” Jake paused for a moment as the server brought their beer. Then he drank about a third of his in one long swallow.
Nate took a drink, too, and let some silence linger between them. He didn’t want to answer Jake’s question directly, because that wasn’t the point. Instead, he said, “If she’s determined to find that kind of relationship, why the hell would she even bother to date me, man? Do I really look like the marrying kind?”
Jake gave him a long, steady look that made Nate want to shift in his seat. Jesus, was everyone going nuts on him today?
“Maddie and I still have our hopes,” his friend finally said. “And, speaking of hopes, it does appear that Holly got them up about you too fast. I agree that it wasn’t the smartest idea to push you for that kind of commitment yet. But that’s only because I know you a lot better than she does.”
“You got that right,” Nate said with a snort.
Surprisingly, Jake glowered at him. “Look, pal, it’s pretty obvious that she did what she did because she wants to be with you. You should feel flattered by that, because she’s pretty far above your pay grade, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Gee, thanks for that.” Nate hammered back another long drink.
“Just saying it like I’m seeing it. Holly’s insecure about you. With all the stories she’s heard about Nate Carter, the notorious stick man, how could she not be?” he said with a laugh. “Man, if she knew what I know. All those nights you’ve spent watching Masterpiece Theater and Antiques Road Show on PBS.”
“And you’d better leave that buried if you know what’s good for you,” Nate growled. Not that there was anything wrong with watching either show, but his viewing habits sure wouldn’t add to his reputation as a badass with the other ballplayers. “You finished now?”
“Yep. All done.”
Nate didn’t exactly like the message, but Jake was probably right. Holly had never ragged him about his dating history, even though he knew it bugged her. And he was flattered that she wanted him so much. He just didn’t know what to do with that kind of heavy emotion.
“I know she’s squirrely because she’s heard all those dumbass stories about me.” He took a long pull of his beer and set it down hard. “I guess my problem is that I can’t lie to Holly. A lot of guys would have told her what she wants to hear, then not changed a damn thing.”
Jake gave him a knowing smile. “Yeah, you’re right. But that’s not you.”
“Damn straight it’s not. If I make a promise, I’m going to keep it. And I won’t make a promise unless I’m a hundred percent sure I can keep it.”
“So, that means you’re not sure about your feelings for Holly? Or monogamy’s not in your DNA? Or both?”
Nate grimaced. They were starting to sound like a couple of girls. Feelings. Emotions. Jesus, this is too weird. “So, you’re Dr. Laura now?”
Jake chuckled. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to talk.”
“No, actually I wanted to drink beer with my buddy.”
“Okay, then, we’ll drop it.” Jake said amiably.
Nate sighed. “Nah, it’s probably better to get this shit out.” At least he could always depend on Jake to give him the straight goods.
“Probably,” his friend agreed. “You’re reminding me of a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse.”
Nate felt like that, too. If he had his arm back and a baseball in his hand, he might just have seen what a ninety-five mile per hour fastball would do to a sheetrock wall at twenty feet.
It wouldn’t be pretty.
Neither was this, since Jake was forcing him to confront what he’d always tried to avoid.
“Okay,” he said, “I’m sure of one thing. I’m sure I want to be with Holly more than I’ve ever wanted to be with anybody. But monogamy? Maybe someday. When I can’t throw a ball anymore. And maybe when I decide I want to have a kid to throw a ball around with.”
“But not now, right?”
Nate inhaled deeply as he thought again about the prospect of committing to Holly. Maybe he was a jerk, but it didn’t sit right, especially when he thought about the other women he still had some feelings for. He decided to get it out on the table.
“Jesus, Jake, you know how I feel about Samantha Rogers. I’ve been seeing her on and off for a couple of years. We’ve been...kind of close. And if I get traded to the Dodgers, we’ll be in the same city.”
Jake said nothing. He knew about Sam, of course.
Now that Nate had said it openly, he had to ponder the prospect that he’d so far been avoiding. His first reaction was that it felt more like an excuse than an argument. The team hadn’t been in L.A. since the day before he met Holly, and he’d barely thought about Sam since then.
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “You see Sam what? Ten days a year? And she never dates anybody else?”
Nate rolled his eyes. They both knew that Sam had a very active dating life.
“Right,” Jake said. “So, can you see yourself marrying her?”
Nate didn’t hesitate. “No way. I don’t think she’d have me, anyway,” he said.
Jake grinned. “Couldn’t blame her for that. Well, then, what about Holly? Think about it. Could you see yourself marrying Dr. Holly Bell?”
That’s where this conversation had been heading, and Nate was prepared for the question. “I’m not sure of anything other than I don’t want to end up with a trail of divorces behind me. I wouldn’t do that to Holly. Or myself.”
Jake’s grin vanished. He slowly shook his head. “You’re not your sister, Nate. It’s not genetic. Your parents have been married for what? Over thirty-five years?”
Jake didn’t understand. “I know,” Nate said. “But that was a different time. Things are different for Susie and me than they were for Mom and Dad. She keeps trying to find the right guy, but she can’t settle down. Not even after three divorces and two kids. It may not be in our genes, but we’re damn well cut from the same cloth, Susie and me.”
“Man, that’s nuts,” Jake said sharply. “Because you think it might not work out, you’re never going to be willing to try? Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy. And pretty immature, dude, if you ask me.”
“It’s one thing if it’s mutual,” Nate retorted. “Then you can walk away from it. But Susie torched her marriage every time, and a bunch of relationships before that. She leaves a hell of a lot of wreckage behind her when she bails out.”
He dropped his eyes, avoiding his friend’s penetrating gaze. “Holly’s not going to be my wreckage, Jake. I can’t do that, no ma
tter how much I want to be with her.” He knew he sounded defensive, but suddenly he was tired. Tired of this discussion, tired of himself, and tired of feeling so bad about how he’d treated the sweetest woman he’d ever met.
But Jake wasn’t letting him off easy. He gave Nate a stony look and let him have it. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, or ever will have. Which is a damn good thing for you, since otherwise I’d be knocking some sense into that thick skull of yours right about now. Stop trying to be a martyr, for God’s sake, and stop using your family history as an excuse. Holly’s a grown woman. A smart and savvy grown woman. You don’t have to protect her against being hurt by you. She’ll do that on her own.” He stuck his elbows onto the table and leaned forward until he was practically in Nate’s face. “You need to figure out how you really feel about her now, my friend, not worry about what might or might not happen down the road. And you better do it sooner than later, because it sounds like the window might be closing.”
Nate couldn’t argue that. Holly had made her position clear. Sure, she might change her mind, but his gut told him it could just be wishful thinking. “Ah, hell. I just wanted to leave things like they are for now. Let what happens, happen.”
“I get that, but now she’s not playing that game, man. And I get the feeling Holly Bell doesn’t play games.” Jake sat back and pushed his chair away from the table. “Think about it this way. When a batter figures out that your curve can’t find the plate and starts sitting on your fastball, what do you do? Keep throwing the curve for balls? Or throw a fastball that the guy’s going hit out of the park?”
“Neither. I try to fool him with a change up or a splitter.”
“Exactly. Maybe it’s not a perfect analogy, but what I’m saying is that you’ve got to adapt with Holly, just like you adapt on the mound. She’s not willing to play by your rules. She’s on a different page, maybe even on a different chapter. You don’t want to commit, but you don’t want to let her walk away, either. So, you gotta come up with another option.”
Nate frowned. That sounded right. Trouble was, he still didn’t have a clue what to do. “Yeah, well, any brilliant ideas on that score?”
“Only one. You have to keep the thing alive for as long as it takes to come up with something.”
“Great,” Nate said, sighing. “Thanks for the words of wisdom, Buddha.”
Talk about easier said than done. What Jake suggested made perfect sense, but Holly wouldn’t put up with a dodge or a waffle.
Jake threw a ten on the table and started to get up, but Nate motioned him to sit back down. “You’re not abandoning ship yet, man, so call your wife and tell her you’ll be late. We’re going to drink some beer and figure this damn thing out.”
* * *
Holly sat in front of the teetering stack of patient files on her desk, trying as hard as she could to pull herself together. She’d woken up feeling as if she’d spent much of the night drinking and crying. That was hardly surprising, since that’s exactly what she’d done. And dawn hadn’t brought with it any more answers than the night. All the self-doubts, all the ugly self-recriminations remained.
Should she have backed Nate into a corner? Should she have shrugged off his refusal to give her a commitment? Should she have been willing to give it more time? The questions she threw out kept coming back at her like boomerangs, smacking her in the head.
At times, she felt her behavior had been righteous. Other times, it seemed like she’d been mostly a pushy bitch.
But she had come to one firm conclusion—she had no intention of groveling. No intention of running back to him. She wouldn’t be the one to make the first move. Obviously she’d caught him by surprise, but so what? He’d made a complete hash out of answering her question, a question she’d had every right to ask. In hindsight, her timing probably hadn’t been the best, but he should have respected her feelings and worries. Instead, she felt like he’d blown her off.
Why do women always want to make things more complicated than they need to be?
That moment had been so gut-wrenching and awful, and yet she hadn’t even given him a verbal slap for saying those words. She’d been so dumbfounded that her tongue had twisted up in her mouth. What she should have told him was that falling in love with someone is complicated. Loving another person creates expectations. Always. Things are only uncomplicated if you don’t give a damn.
When you ain’t got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.
Maybe Nate didn’t think he had anything to lose with her, and that was the worst thought of all.
Even so, she’d almost called him half a dozen times. And she never stopped wishing the phone would ring, and that it would be him on the line. In her mind, she could hear him saying how sorry he was, how she meant everything to him, how he could never let her go, how he’d never be with anyone else.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He hadn’t called. Why? Was it just his masculine pride? Or did he really not give a damn? Maybe he’d even called up one of his old girlfriends last night after he dropped her off. That recurring thought felt like an arrow through her chest. She didn’t want to believe he’d be that shallow, but most of all she couldn’t stand the idea of him in another woman’s arms.
But life always intervened and Holly had no choice but to get back to work. All the rescheduling she’d done to spring herself loose for the long weekend in Florida had resulted in a schedule even more crammed than normal. She’d just have to shake off the fuzzy brain, cover up the red eyes, and get herself organized for the long day ahead.
After all, some very sick children and their parents depended on her, and that’s what counted most. Always had, and probably always would. Nothing was more important than that. Not Nate, and not her foolish, broken heart.
Holly had only gotten halfway through the first file when Canizaro poked her head inside.
“Welcome, back, Dr. Bell. Ready for rounds?” the resident asked in a cheery voice.
With a quiet sigh, Holly closed her files and rose. “Yes, Katie. Let’s get it done.”
* * *
Nate woke up early. His head pounded with a sickening beat, and he had a possibly terminal case of jungle mouth, too.
Way too much beer.
But at least he’d been forced to think outside his comfort zone. He’d wanted to wallow in cold beer and buddy-to-buddy sympathy, but Jake had made him snap out of it. Forced him to face up to the tangle of feelings he’d wanted to push right out of his head. Made him realize that things with Holly weren’t going to go back magically to where they were twenty-four hours ago. She’d made a decision, and he had to adapt if he wanted to be with her. Plain and simple.
And he did want. Very much. But whatever happened, he had to adapt.
Before he left the bar last night, he’d already decided that he’d have to be the one to make the call. Doctor Gorgeous was as proud as he was, and for sure too proud to make the first move. He’d call her right after his physiotherapy workout. Ask her to meet him somewhere, anywhere, anytime—whenever she could cut herself loose from the hospital. Then they’d talk it through. She probably missed him.
Women always did.
For the first time, that fact made him feel like a jerk.
Despite his sorry condition, he had to be at the clubhouse at nine. He’d pushed his luck by cajoling the doctor and trainer into agreeing that he could work out on his own down in Florida. If he tried to skip out today, they’d be all over him and he’d probably end up with a fat fine. He didn’t give a damn about that, but he gave a huge damn about getting healthy again and getting back out onto the field. So, he turned the shower onto hot and stripped out of his tee shirt and briefs.
Forty-five minutes later, he hurried into the Patriots’ clubhouse, only ten minutes late. Jed Jones tapped his watch with his index finger as Nate dropped his sports bag at his locker.
“I’m not your personal trainer, hotshot,” Jones said with a frown creasing his ruddy fore
head. “Nine o’clock means nine o’clock.”
Nate shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s not a real good day to bust my balls, Jonesy.” He knew Jones was just ribbing him, but he was in no mood for kidding.
“No surprise,” the grizzled veteran shot back. “You look like a big sack of shit. If that’s what a Florida vacation does to you, stay the hell home next time.”
“Long story,” Nate muttered.
Jones ran a hand across the top of his bald dome. “Doc’s in the examination room. You’re keeping him waiting, too.”
Nate started down the hall, not wanting to keep Morehouse waiting any more than he already had been. “Didn’t know he was coming,” he said over his shoulder.
Morehouse eyed him suspiciously as Nate walked into the small examination room. “Whoa. I thought Florida was supposed to do you good?”
“Jesus, maybe I ought to just go back to bed,” Nate snapped.
The doctor’s grin indicated he was ribbing him. “Strip off the shirt, Grumpy.” He motioned to Nate to hoist himself onto the examination table. “Bad night?”
“Women,” Nate muttered. “They drive a guy to drink.”
“Ah, would it be that new doctor friend?”
Nate nodded as he undid the buttons and shucked the shirt off.
“I have to say I can’t remember any students who looked that good when I was in med school.”
Nate made a non-committal grunt.
“I presume you took her on your little jaunt to Florida?” Morehouse said. “Things didn’t go well?”
Nate glared at him. “What is this, Doc? Twenty questions? Why don’t we focus on the shoulder?”
Morehouse’s grin disappeared and his body went stiff. Nate felt instantly guilty. “Sorry,” he said. “I know you’re just making conversation. I’m all screwed up. First the shoulder, now Holly…” He let it trail off.
