Treatment wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t comfortable, but it did the job.
Mace heaved a sigh of relief and turned his head back to face Sawyer. “You were on fire today, Skeet. Philly’s gonna have to watch out.”
Sawyer grinned and motioned for an air fist bump, which was returned. “You too, Mace. Now if only I could keep my legs under me. Those drills were brutal.”
The catcher shrugged as best as he could while being worked on. “Burned like Hades, but we’ll be all right.”
Sawyer nodded in agreement, closing his eyes and relaxing more now that the feeling in his legs was fading. “Good for us, right?”
Mace grunted in agreement, then said, “Hey, Kayla, doesn’t Skeet need to ice down his shoulder too?”
“Yes, he does,” the athletic trainer replied.
Sawyer’s eyes popped open, staring at them both in outright betrayal. “No… Please, no. I’m in the ice! I’ll put my arm in the ice! I’ll go up to my neck!”
But the damage was done, and Kayla came over with several ice bags in her hands, strapping them on with her trusty roll of cling-wrap.
When his right arm was completely immobilized, bulky, and freezing, Sawyer glared at his snickering friend on the treatment table. “You’ll get yours, Chuckles.”
Mace gave him an appropriately innocent face. “I am only looking out for the welfare and health of my pitcher. It’s important that you take care of that arm, isn’t it, Kayla?”
Kayla nodded, her dark ponytail bouncing. “Sure is. Doc would insist, and you know it.”
Sawyer turned his glare to her. “Did you draw the short straw to be in here while he supervises the rest of the team drills?”
She smiled with false enthusiasm. “Of course not. I love being in here with such cheerful athletes.” Her smile dropped in favor of a complete deadpan expression, making them both laugh.
“Thank you for sacrificing, Kayla,” Mace said as he sat up. “We like you better than Doc anyway.”
Kayla rolled her eyes and picked up a pile of towels, moving into the laundry. “Uh-huh, sure, Mace.”
Mace grabbed a band from the drawer beside him and moved to lie on his back, wrapping the band around one foot and stretching his calf with a grimace. “So once we’re both feeling young and limber, and after we finish up team meetings, you wanna have one last night on the town? Jess flies in tomorrow, and that’ll be it.”
“Can’t, buddy,” Sawyer told him. “I’ve got something I need to do tonight.”
His friend’s brow wrinkled, then smoothed in an instant. “Ah. Start another class?”
“Shh!” Sawyer sat up in the ice bath, looking around, then made a pained noise as the cold reignited sensation against his skin.
“Ohhh,” Mace said slowly, nodding in understanding, his sincerity not entirely clear. “I see. We aren’t talking about this subject involving subjects. Well, have you plotted a new course on this deeply private escapade into educational endeavors?”
A chunk of ice flew towards Mace’s head, but he dodged it easily.
Sawyer shook his head. “If I had my good arm…”
Mace continued to nod. “Right, Skeet. Right. Are you really not going to discuss it with me? I’m your catcher, man. Whatever is going on in your head, I need to know.”
There was some truth to that, Sawyer supposed, however it might irritate him to admit it.
He leaned his head back against the tub. “I’m not missing going to the Gila Monster and eating Taco Joe’s with you because of class. I promised a friend I’d show her around the area.”
“You promised… Wait, what?” Mace raised his head from the table, the band snapping off of his foot. “Her? Who’s her?”
“None of your business, that’s who,” Sawyer shot back. “She’s a friend from college. We ran into each other when I was in Belltown, and it turns out she’s going to be in Phoenix for a few weeks working.”
Mace sat up and swung his legs off the table, wrapping the band around his other foot and stretching it out in front of him. “A Belltown babe? You kidding me?”
Sawyer waved a finger in the air. “They’re called Lady Macks, you uncultured brick. The Belltown Babes are the tap-dancing squad.”
Mace blinked. “I’m not sure I want to know how you know that.”
“My sister is a dance major, dude. I know way more about the ins and outs of Belltown squads and traditions than I ever wanted to.”
“Excuse me for being a Buckeye.” Mace snorted and extended his leg further in the air, making a face against the tension. “So is your friend a friend or a friend?” he asked, his voice dipping suggestively.
“Interestingly,” Sawyer said with a faint sniff, “I am, in fact, taking a class, though. Two, actually. Not sure how smart that is during preseason, but independent study, especially online, is fairly flexible.”
Mace murmured a bland “Mm-hmm,” that immediately made Sawyer suspicious.
“What?” he demanded, trying to decipher Mace’s blank expression.
Mace grinned, his teeth flashing white in the midst of his dark beard. “The only thing more off limits than your academic hobbies is your friend. That’s extremely interesting, Skeeter.”
Sensing he was not going to win no matter which way this conversation went, Sawyer closed his eyes and began to hum “Hail to Belltown” to himself, using his free hand to conduct an imaginary band, though he had no idea how to do that. Waving his hand randomly in the air seemed close enough.
“I know you’re avoiding the conversation,” Mace told him over the sound of the fight song. “And if you think I’m going to let any of this go…”
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Sawyer belted, plugging one of his ears with his free hand.
“There’s a reason you weren’t a music major,” Mace called over the noise.
Sawyer went back to humming and conducting, tuning out his friend as best as he could.
Mace laughed, shaking his head. “Your evasion speaks louder than words, you know.”
“Well, I think that does it for me,” Sawyer said brightly, pushing himself out of the ice bath, his legs a brilliant scarlet. “Legs are golden. I’m just going to go change now and head out. Lots to do!” He hobbled towards the locker-room door, a bit wobbly on numb legs. “Belltown, Belltown!”
“Oh, come on!” Mace groaned from his table. “Finish the song at least!”
Sawyer stuck his head back around the shelves of therapy equipment with a crooked grin. “Ever grateful, ever there… We’re Lumberjacks, the bold who dare!”
Apparently Mace knew the rest, cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling, “Ohhhhh TIMBER!”
“No,” Sawyer scolded firmly with a shake of his head. “You aren’t a Lumberjack. No rally cries.”
The catcher rolled his eyes dramatically and shooed him away. “Go have fun on your date, Skeet.”
Sawyer’s eyes widened. “It’s not a date. I’m being neighborly.”
“Is she your neighbor?” Mace retorted with a knowing look.
Sputtering to himself, Sawyer declined to answer and turned back for the locker room.
Mace was an idiot. This wasn’t even close to a date. He and Erica were simply spending time together, and he was helping her get acquainted with the area.
That was it.
It was.
* * *
“How about cereal? Do you have cereal?”
“Yes, Sawyer, I have cereal.”
“What kinds? This is important.”
Erica rolled her eyes for the forty-seventh time since they had entered the grocery store fifteen minutes ago. “Cheerios and Mini-Wheats.”
Sawyer stopped the cart and stared at her with wide eyes. “Plain?” he demanded, evidently horrified by the thought.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she groaned. “No. Honey-nut and strawberry, respectively.”
His chest heaved on a massive sigh of relief, shaking his head. “Okay. Still, two boxes of cereal isn’t en
ough.” He pushed the cart down the aisle, eyes narrowing as he scanned the shelves. “Let’s see. You like Fruit Loops, if I remember correctly, so we’ll get those… Ooh, Frosted Flakes. Must have. No way! They have Berry Berry Kix!”
“Sawyer!” Erica protested with a laugh, tugging her long tee down a little. “Are you feeding yourself or me?”
He looked over his shoulder, a box of Berry Berry Kix in each hand. “Probably both. So what?” The boxes went into the cart, and he kept pushing on.
At this rate, she’d spend a month’s rent on the food for a stay of just a few weeks.
Or maybe Sawyer would.
If he didn’t calm down, she would absolutely make him pay.
What was initially meant to be a quick stop at the store before he showed her around town had turned into a full excursion to stock her entire apartment with whatever he thought necessary. She’d already gotten herself staples, but Sawyer didn’t believe in staples alone, so crackers, peanut butter, spaghetti, marinara sauce, spices, baking supplies, and now cereal were coming home with her.
“Wait!” Sawyer cried, screeching the cart to a halt and turning to her with wide eyes. “We didn’t get chocolate chips. Mom always told us to keep chocolate chips on hand no matter what.”
“Life truth right there,” Erica agreed with a nod. “Mamma Sal for the win. I’ll go get a bag.”
He snorted in response, adjusting the Belltown cap on his head. “A bag. Singular. Crazy. You need at least three. Emergencies happen.”
Erica folded her arms and quirked a brow. “You have three bags of chocolate chips in your kitchen, mister?”
“Of course not,” he scoffed. “I have five.”
Her jaw dropped briefly, then she laughed. “Can you even make cookies?”
“I sure can,” he shot back. “I’ll bring you some next week, and then you are making me your mom’s meatloaf.”
“Done.” Erica held out her hand to shake on it, and he took it.
He nodded at her. “Great. Now go get some. We have so much still to get.”
She sighed in resignation and went back to the baking aisle for chocolate chips, snagging two boxes of instant chocolate pudding for good measure. Surely Sawyer wouldn’t object to that.
Moving back to the cereal aisle, she frowned, finding it empty. Where in the world…?
She moved to the next aisle and found him dropping two cans of chili into the cart.
“Sawyer!” she groaned as she hurried to the cart. “Stop it. Come on, I don’t need three months’ worth of food.”
“Who doesn’t need chili?” he asked, resisting when she tried to take the cart from him. “We haven’t even been to meat and dairy yet, let alone housewares.”
Erica shook her head insistently. “I have chicken and ground beef already, and plenty of cheese, milk, and yogurt. Nothing left to get.”
Sawyer made a face and leaned over the cart handle, his forearm muscles flexing just enough for her to notice them. “What about bread? Bagels? Chips? Popcorn?” He narrowed his eyes and smiled very slyly. “Ice cream…?”
She bit her lip, then threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine! Chips, popcorn, and ice cream. Then we are done with food, okay?”
“Ha!” He straightened and brushed imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Thought so.”
“I hate you sometimes,” she moaned as they began to walk again. “Seriously.”
“No way, Erica.” He gave her a sidelong look as they exited the aisle and moved towards their next section. “You love my enabling ways.”
“Everyone loves their enabler sometimes,” she retorted, slapping his arm. “It’s why toxic relationships go on for so long. We don’t know what’s good for us.”
Sawyer pretended to consider that. “But ice cream is good for us, right?”
“Right.” She gave him a high five and draped her hand loosely at the edge of the cart.
“How about divide and conquer?” he suggested as they neared the chip aisle. “You run and get the ice cream; I’ll handle chips and popcorn. Then we can go on to housewares.”
Erica gave him a bemused look. “What do I need in housewares?”
He shrugged, making a face. “Won’t know until we see it. But for sure a rug.”
“A rug?” she repeated. “Why?”
“New apartment, you need a new rug.”
“Do I?” she replied. “I had no idea.”
He shooed her away. “Off with you now. Ice cream. Chop, chop.”
“Now he’s in a hurry,” Erica muttered to herself as she did as he bid. Not that she needed much encouragement to go get ice cream, but Sawyer’s behavior made it more enjoyable. The more she pretended to resist, the more insistent he became.
And she was really loving it.
She grabbed a half gallon of her favorite, rocky road, and, on impulse, Sawyer’s favorite, chocolate chip cookie dough. She had no idea if he was on a strict diet, which he had tended to do when he was preseason in college, but if he was forcing ice cream upon her, she had no problem returning the favor.
Returning to the chip aisle, she found Sawyer on the phone, his expression not quite the cheery one she had left.
“Of course I knew she was dating. We teased her about it when we were there,” he was saying as he reached for a bag of chips. “She said there was a guy, but she never did get around to telling me… How long?” He waited for the answer, then covered his face with one hand. “Rach… Why wouldn’t she tell us?”
Erica winced as she approached, holding up the ice cream when he met her eyes.
His expression didn’t change, but he gave her a thumbs up.
She put the ice cream in the cart and took the handle from him. He let her, and he walked beside her as she moved out of the aisle and away from the food. “It’s been five years; why would we have a problem with it?... Have you met him?”
Oh, this was not a conversation she needed to be hearing. However close she and Sawyer had been at one time in their lives, they certainly were not so now, and there was no reason to expect that they would ever be again. She’d been there when Sawyer’s dad, Charlie, had passed away after a short and intense battle with pancreatic cancer, and what a toll it had taken on the entire family.
Ironically, and not surprisingly, it was just after all of that had happened that Sawyer had become so focused and determined in his baseball career. He’d always been dedicated, but never so desperately obsessed.
And now, it seemed, Mamma Sal was making some significant changes in her life.
Or had been, anyway.
“You’re kidding,” Sawyer breathed, making Erica look over at him and see how wide his eyes had gotten. “As in… I’ve met him. It’s been years, but… Todd Landers, really? Do Tara or Millie know?... Right, you’re not there.” He ran a hand over his face again, then gripped the back of his neck. “Well, it sounds like I’ll be calling Mom to ask some more questions.” He rolled his eyes, a weak smile curving one side of his mouth. “No, Rach, I won’t be rude. I don’t even care that she is, I just wish she’d told us. You’re not hiding a boyfriend from me too, are you?... Oh, good. Stay single, okay? Love you.”
Erica pretended to be interested in the organizational bins she was currently passing as Sawyer hung up the phone.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “I never know what my sister is calling about, but…”
She shook her head immediately. “Don’t even worry about it. None of my business.”
Sawyer shrugged. “I don’t mind you knowing. Mom’s got a boyfriend.”
“I kinda got that,” Erica admitted with a smile.
“They’ve been together almost a year,” he told her.
Now she stopped the cart and looked at him, gaping. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, then shook his head. “I have no idea how she kept that from us, or why. Rachel just found out because she basically interrogated Mom over FaceTime. Do you remember Tara and Millie Landers?”
Erica nodded quickly, pushing the cart forward again. “Of course. Tara was a star soccer player when the Six Pack ruled the world, and Millie came up after her, just as good. It’s their dad?”
“Yeah. I didn’t even know their mom had died.” He trailed off, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, walking beside her with an expression of shock.
“You okay with this?” Erica asked gently.
He gave a slow nod. “Yeah, in theory. Dad wouldn’t want Mom to be alone, especially if she found love again. That’s not an issue for me. I don’t know if they’ve been serious for the whole year or if they were on and off, or… Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
Erica paused to process her thoughts, then turned down the aisle of rugs and throw pillows. “You’re a Major League baseball star trying to prove himself on a new team, and your sister is trying to break into the dance world professionally. Both of you require focus and minimal distractions. Maybe she was trying to spare you all that until she was sure it was something?”
“I get that,” Sawyer said calmly. “But a year?”
“Maybe she took some convincing?” Erica shrugged and reached out to feel a patterned pillow. “I don’t know, but I’m sure she had her reasons.”
Sawyer grunted. “I guess. You ready?”
She nodded, and they silently made their way to the checkout. They tag-teamed loading the groceries onto the conveyor, and Sawyer surprised her by handing over his credit card to the cashier before she could even get her wallet from her purse.
“Sawyer,” she protested, shaking her head.
He gave her a stern look. “Don’t.” He grabbed a Snickers from the candy section, and added that to the rest. “And the candy bar for my friend here.”
The cashier nodded, smiling knowingly at Erica.
She had no idea how to respond to that. What did she think she knew? This wasn’t…
This was…
Well, there was nothing to know, because Erica didn’t know.
Sawyer put the groceries in the cart, thanked the cashier, and started pushing the cart out of the store. Erica trotted after him, tossing her purse over one shoulder.
Hitching the Pitcher Page 5
