How to Lose a Groom in 10 Days (4 page)

He wanted honesty?

Melanie stared at the unmoving mass of muscle in the passenger seat and recognized the expression on his face. It was the same one he wore when he got down in the count to a good pitcher and he really dug in at home plate. That set to his jaw said he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fine.” If he wouldn’t listen to her, then she’d have to show him. “You want to know what my life is really like? You can come with me on my next big adventure.” She turned the key in her ignition to start the car. “We’ll see how long it takes you to go running back to your five star hotels and team travel secretary.”

“Good. I welcome the challenge. If I stop off at the truck to grab a change of clothes, you won’t peel out of the parking lot without me, will you?” His eyes roamed over her face as if searching for a trick.

“You blocked me in.”

“Right. But after what happened at the courthouse, I’ve found you’re quite the getaway artist.”

She hated that she put that distrust there, but it was just another sign that she was all wrong for him. That he deserved better. She had no idea how to make a long term relationship work with a guy who would be gone most of the time.

“I’ll wait for you.” She didn’t need to trick him. Once she showed him all facets of herself, and not just the cleaned-up fun version she’d shared with him, he’d understand all too well why they weren’t meant to be.

He’d never seen her childhood home or met her parents. Didn’t know why she was the self-declared queen of temp jobs in Orange County, Florida. No employers in Kissimmee kept her on the payroll long since she was liable to run off at a moment’s notice to pick up her mother after a bender or referee an argument down at the grocery store when her parents were causing a public stir.

Her life wasn’t particularly fun—except when she was with Grady. And that was only because she’d carefully kept her family out of it.

She watched him jog back to his vehicle for a leather overnight bag. He thumbed the “lock” button on his truck before climbing back into her car and she pulled out of the rest area parking lot. She’d change out of her dress at the next fuel station since she was already low on gas.

“So, what makes you think you can send me running?” he asked, his broad shoulder brushing hers as he maneuvered around to get more comfortable in the seat.

“That’s part of what you’re going to learn over the next three days … or sooner, depending on how fast you cry uncle.”

“Where are we going?” Dropping his keys in the center console of the Honda, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top fastening on his dress shirt.

Exposing more of the tanned column of his throat. The depression at the base of his neck that she liked to kiss. Lick.

She forced her eyes back on the road with an effort and took a deep breath to slow her rapid heart rate. Focus on the task at hand.

“We’re going camping.”

‡

“I
think we
goofed and put the right tent poles on the left side of the tent.” Melanie double-checked the directions against the lopsided blue and gray canvas structure Grady had been working on for the last twenty minutes.

To his credit, he’d been endlessly patient with her decision to check into the state park on Lake Kissimmee, a place she used to go with her parents back in happier times. Grady hadn’t minded leaving his truck behind or his worldly possessions. Hadn’t winced when she’d mentioned hiking farther from the lake to have a more primitive camping experience, or even when she’d dug out her old backpack and the cheap tent she’d bought her first summer out of high school.

But she sensed his patience was wearing thin when she’d struggled to interpret the faded directions on the time-worn brochure that had been packed away with the tent. His shoulders had a definite stiffness, a fact she could see all too clearly as he tugged off his damp t-shirt. They’d changed out of their wedding finery at a gas station close to the Lake Kissimmee campground, but after hiking for an hour to their more remote location, even shorts and tees felt sticky on the hot afternoon.

No surprise that Melanie’s skin heated even more as Grady peeled off that shirt.

“Maybe it would help if we looked up the instructions online instead of reading through an old marshmallow smudge.” He picked up his phone and started inputting commands with flying thumbs. “There’s no rule against utilizing digital help for problem solving in this wager of yours, is there?”

“There is no wager.” She set aside the brochure and tried not to stare at the ridged muscles of his stomach or the dusting of light brown hair visible just above low-slung shorts. “I’m just trying to show you the other side of me. How would you feel if I wanted to go camping instead of staying in the team hotel while you were on the road?”

For that matter, what if she got a call from home and her mother needed bail money after a night in the drunk tank for some local dust-up when Mom turned ornery? How understanding would Grady be when she ran back home to put Band-Aids on the hemorrhaging wounds of the Webb clan?

“I would work harder to remind you why you’d rather sleep in my bed every night.” He glanced up at her over his phone, the look he sent curling her toes.

Rendering her speechless.

Because he had the power to do just that. She knew it. And he knew it. So she wouldn’t go arguing that particular point and give him an opportunity to prove her wrong.

Pivoting away from him, she walked around the spot they’d chosen to camp, needing to walk off the tingling in her thighs and between her legs. She felt his eyes follow her, making the ache worse.

“Melanie,” he called in that sexy smooth voice of his, “If you really wanted to camp while I was on the road, I’d lobby the team to let me spend that time with you.”

“The Stars would never go for that.” She knew how strict the major league clubs were about player curfews and team bonding.

“They’re more lenient with family guys.” Setting down his phone, he returned his attention to the tent poles, tugging two of them from their canvas sleeves to re-thread them in new places. “They know a player can’t be happy if his family’s not happy.”

“Right. So they throw a little more money your way and hope the wifey will be content with a new car.” She’d seen with her own eyes how tough life on the road could be for player wives—had been out socially with some of the younger ones in past years when she’d worked spring training events with the families. “That doesn’t satisfy any woman who genuinely loves her husband and not his paycheck.”

Although it would have made Melanie’s mother happy. She’d stalked the spring training fields around town twenty-some years ago in hope of hooking up with a player and moving out of the Florida backwater town where she’d been born. Maybe that was part of what bothered Melanie about being with Grady. Her mother would make ugly assumptions about her and—worse—she’d crow to all of her barfly friends that her daughter struck it big by snagging a big-leaguer.

Her thoughts were so dark, she hadn’t noticed that Grady had stalked closer. She felt his presence a second before he put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him.

“In that case, thank you for loving me more than my paycheck.” His hands lingered on the bare skin just below her t-shirt sleeves.

Strong, warm hands. The touch scrambled her thoughts.

“What I mean is—” She licked dry lips, trying to recall what she’d meant.

“I know what you mean.” His thumbs moved in the smallest of circles on her arms.

Her breasts beaded under her shirt, her whole body responding to his nearness. His voice.

“Maybe we shouldn’t touch each other until we have this situation worked out,” she suggested, her voice cracking while her whole body protested the idea.

“It feels good though, doesn’t it?” He got his fingers involved in the light massage, the touch smoothing along the place where her bra straps rested, as if he was testing out her clothes to see how much he’d need to remove to get her naked.

Or was that wishful thinking on her part?

“It kind of clouds my thinking,” she admitted, wondering if he’d hypnotized her with sex at some point. She definitely felt the potent power of suggestion right now.

“Mine too, but I like that feeling, Mel.” He let his hands fall to his sides and took a step back. “Just make sure you let me know when we can start touching again.”

She blinked, confused at the loss of his touch since her hormones were running wild. Clearing her throat, she tried to shake off the longing that weighed down her limbs. She needed to pull herself together. Stop acting like a love-starved teenager and remember what she was here to do—prove to Grady Hollis that the wedding was a mistake. Something she’d never do if she kept swooning every time he touched her, for crying out loud.

Marching over to her backpack to retrieve a nice, cold drink in an effort to cool herself off, Melanie noticed the whole thing was moving.

What the hell?

Her overstuffed backpack wriggled backward as if trying to get away from her.

“Grady?” she called, stopping in her tracks. What if there was a giant python under the pack? Or a baby alligator? Gators were known to hang out around central Florida watering holes.

Keeping a wary eye on the green canvas bag, she backed up a step and ran smack into Grady.

“What is it?” He reached toward the bag before she could warn him.

He slid the sack toward them but the bag resisted, a little yellow furry tail wagging free from the side pocket. A canine tail, for sure. Laughing, Grady tugged the bag harder and revealed…

A fluffy Golden Retriever pup. The puppy rolled free from the bag, flipping over twice before popping up onto all fours again. Fearless in the face of discovery, the matted, dirty bundle barked twice, tail wagging so fast the furry butt moved in time.

“Oh, look!” Melanie was already reaching for the animal when Grady stopped her.

“Wait up.” He pulled a hand towel out of the bag and passed the length of terrycloth to her. “Use this to hold it.”

“He’s not that dirty,” she insisted, wanting to snuggle it in spite of herself. “How cute is he?”

“What if it’s rabid?” Grady used the towel to carefully lift the wriggling pup and get a better look at it as he held the dog at an awkward arm’s length. “Better not let those little teeth get close. And it looks like a ‘her’ to me.”

“Rabid?” Chuckling, she plucked the puppy from his arms and promptly got a lick on the chin. “She’s acting mighty friendly if you ask me.” Melanie lifted the pup’s gum and checked the tiny teeth. “She can’t be but two to three months old. Most places a puppy can’t get rabies vaccinations until they’re at least twelve weeks old. I learned that on one of my temp jobs once answering phones at a vet clinic, but you can look it up on your awesome phone if you want.” She couldn’t resist the last jab.

“Ha, funny.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, already typing away on his cell anyhow.

“And while you’re at it, look up the nearest vet clinic so we can get flea prevention,” she clicked through the details, for once in her comfort zone and feeling confident about something around this man, “a good dewormer, puppy vaccinations and check for a microchip.”

“Dewormer?” He glanced at the pup in horror.

Finally, she’d rattled him. Who would have thought it would be over canine parasites? She stifled a slightly hysterical laugh. “Haven’t you ever had a dog?”

“No, I can’t say that I have,” he said softly without looking up from the cell. “My parents said we spent too much time on the road with my sports and it wouldn’t be fair to the dog. And now’s no different so I don’t have a pet.”

“Sure it’s different these days,” she pressed, not even sure why she was bothering. It wasn’t like they would be traveling with a pet together as husband and wife. “There are pet friendly hotels everywhere. Check the website bringdfido.com.” She cast him a sideways look. “But then that’s probably not okay since the team may not be staying there. Like with camping.”

He lowered his phone. “You’re leaving me because my job isn’t conducive to camping or having a dog?”

Shaking her head, she sagged back against a tree wearily. “Those are symptoms of a bigger issue. We live differing lifestyles. Our values differ.”

That last part clearly pissed him off. She could see by the narrowing of his eyes. Would he stalk away and call for a limo to pick him up? She would have made her point and … tears stung. She cradled the wrapped up puppy closer as their tent wobbled in the wind.

Grady’s set jaw relaxed. “Do you want to stand here and argue or do you want to go to the vet?” He held up a phone again. “I have an address and GPS directions.”

Of course he had directions. Without him, she would have been stuck asking the guy behind the campsite counter to draw a map on the back of a fast food bag. “Let’s get this puppy checked over.” She reached into the pocket of her sweater, fished out the keys and pitched them to him. “You drive. I’ll hold Polly.”

He shrugged, surrendering as he snagged the keys out of midair. “Polly, you’re a lucky puppy to have met Melanie.”