No Breaking My Heart (14 page)

“I remember that game.” Ry's heroics were legendary. “We played Tampa Bay in late July. It was a hundred-ten degrees on the field, and the heat beat us down. We felt fried. Bottom of the ninth, and Rogues led by one. Rays took their bat, landed two men on base. Two outs followed. Then their third baseman drilled a fastball to center. It appeared over the wall to those of us in the dugout. Rylan jumped blind against the sun's glare. So high, we swore he had jet packs in his shoes. He caught the ball. Saved our win.”

“I was at the game,” she said. “I was in Tampa looking at new camera equipment. Ry got me a ticket. I screamed so loud, I was hoarse the next day.” She filled her mug with coffee. A mug with a photograph of Atlas, Ry's Great Dane. The big dog had a large branch in his mouth. “Atlas helped a tree removal service take out a cypress hit by lightning,” she explained. “Cream or sugar?” she next asked.

“Black's fine.”

She added a few drops of low-fat milk to her own.

“Stand or sit?” she questioned.

“I'm fine standing.” She didn't have a table or chairs. There was no need to return to the living room and get comfortable. He wouldn't be here that long. He did have a question for her though, “Where do you eat?”

“I have TV trays.”

Interesting life style, he thought. He liked different. She was definitely unique. He kept their conversation light. “Rogues have several events coming up. Bonfire tomorrow night.”

“I'll be taking pictures.”

“I'm looking forward to the charity Dog Jog next weekend. Proceeds benefit the no-kill animal shelter.”

“I'm participating.”

“So is the team. Not all of us have dogs, so we'll choose from the shelter. Hopefully, once they're presented in the race, they'll get adopted.”

“Rylan mentioned entering Atlas.”

“The Dane could win a horse race.”

Eden smiled. “Ry will be fair. He'll hold him back, give everyone a chance.”

“Dog or cat person?” Land was curious.

The corners of her mouth turned down. “I had one of each. Old age took them. Animals never live long enough.”

“I agree. My parents have a geriatric black Lab, Leopold. Leo gets around, but there are times he sleeps the day away.”

He sipped his coffee, remembered, “I can't forget Media Day on Monday. We introduce our contest winners to the press. Reporters want us to predict our upcoming season. Then a few personal questions.”

“Personal . . .” The corners of her mouth twitched. “I have a couple.”

He shrugged. “Float your boat, sweetheart. Ask away.”

She immediately questioned his intellect. “What was the last novel, picture, or comic book you've read?”

She took him for a dumb jock. “
The Martian,
by Andy Weir,” he said. “A dust storm, an astronaut left for dead who actually lives—great science fiction.”

Her eyes rounded. “It was a
New York Times
bestseller.”

“I'm not allowed to read bestsellers?”

“That's not what I meant,” she assured him. “I'm surprised, that's all. I've read it, too. I'm a fan of survival.”

“For the record, the only comics I read are Sunday funnies.”

“I like Dilbert.”

“Doonesbury.”

She topped off their coffee mugs before asking, “Is your world more free-wheeling or frustrating?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Frustrating tonight,” was damn sure. “Rylan supplied us with two limousines, for safety's sake. I caught the limo from Blue Coconut to Lusty Oyster. Then a girl grabbed me at the door as I was leaving the Oyster and wouldn't let go. Woman had a grip. She swore we dated last spring and wanted to start up where we left off. I remember the ladies I've been with, and she wasn't one of them. By the time I cut her loose, the limo was gone.”

“I can't believe the guys forgot you.”

“I can. They were having too good a time and weren't keeping count of who was with them, who was not.” He grinned at her then. “I'm glad you came along.”

“Someone would've offered you a ride.”

“But not to a wedding chapel.”

“It's quiet out here. Perfect for one.”

“What about a second person?”

She looked amused. “You asking to move in?”

“Not today,” was his elusive response. He let it hang.

“Give me some notice so I can make room for you.”

She thought he was teasing. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. He honestly didn't know. He left the door open. For some unknown reason.

She drank her coffee; eyed him over the rim of the mug. Went on to ask, “What fascinates you most?”

No hesitation. “The universe.”

“Vast, Landon.”

“A simple sunrise.”

Artistically, she understood. “The promise of a new day, all painted in red, orange, pink, and gold. There's no place like the beach at dawn. The colors reflect on the water, and you get a dual-image photograph.”

“I'll head to the boardwalk one morning.”

“The boardwalk stirs early. Brews Brothers has a strong, dark, wake-up blend. Bakehouse makes the best doughnuts. They have a fresh fruit-filled breakfast pastry that's amazing. Strawberry's the best. I buy them by the bakery box.”

“Motivation to get up.”

“Locals know to arrive early.”

She offered him a drop more coffee, but he waved her off. He was clearheaded now. He was having a decent time. Which he'd only admit to himself. Perhaps he'd stay a few more minutes. No longer.

She fidgeted a little with a drawer near the sink that was slightly ajar, opening and reclosing it. Surely she wasn't nervous around him. At least no more than he was with her. She kept his pulse up. Left his stomach tight. In a good way.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Last time you were inspired?”

He didn't have to think long. “I'm inspired by people who pull their lives together after injury or illness. I do hospital visits on non-game days. Last fall, an orthopedist at Richmond Memorial asked me to stop by the rehabilitation center and meet a boy named Noah, an eighteen-year-old high school wrestler with both collegiate and Olympic potential. Until he went on his senior trip to Cabo San Lucas.”

“A Mexican playground for graduates.”

“Been there. Done it all. It can get wild. According to his doctor, Noah partied, but he was also responsible. One afternoon he and a couple friends rented WaveRunners at the marina. Noah sat second on the watercraft. His driver was cautious. However his buddies on the second Jet Ski raced around, raising hell, taking chances. An accidental sharp turn, and the two collided. Hard. Noah's watercraft flipped; came down on him. He nearly died.”

Eden put her palm over her heart. “Oh . . . no.”

“Noah's father is CEO at the hospital. He's well-connected. He chartered a plane with medical staff and flew his son back to the States in record time. Concussion, dislocated shoulders, broken arm, ribs, and both legs. After several major surgeries, he started to mend. He's slowly regained his memory. His speech is improving.”

Her eyes welled and she swallowed hard. “Thank goodness.”

“The day I dropped by the center, Noah recognized me. He follows the Rogues. He was about to take his first steps, using short parallel bars. The physical therapist positioned me at the opposite end. I encouraged Noah to go the distance. I gave him incentive.”

“A bribe?” Eden was curious.

“More or less. I bargained my Rogues baseball cap and jersey if he got halfway through the bars. Then tossed in six home-game tickets if he made it to me.”

She held her breath. “He did, didn't he?”

“A super struggle that took him nearly an hour, but he got there. With clenched jaw and white knuckles. Some swearing.” He finished off his coffee, set the mug in the sink. “We went to lunch in the cafeteria that day, celebrating. I pushed his wheelchair, and he wore my cap and jersey. One of the therapists lent me a medical scrub top. Noah ate two cheeseburgers and fries. I've returned twice to catch his progress. He uses a cane, but can walk on his own now. We stay in touch. He once wanted to become part of the World Wrestling Federation. Doubtful now. He starts college soon. He's smart, and eyeing a business major.”

“I'm so glad he recovered. I had a close friend in a similar situation. A water skiing accident. He didn't fare as well. His funeral was last week.” She sighed, her expression sad, right before she hugged him spontaneously. Coffee splashed from her mug onto his shirt. A minor stain. His story touched her. His had a happy ending. Hers had not.

He widened his stance, and she stepped even closer. She fit him. He held her gently; stroked her hair, her back. Until she calmed. He had the strange urge to comfort her. To kiss the top of her head, her brow, the tip of her nose. While his intent was honest, he instinctively knew those kisses would lead to something more. They'd just started a dialogue. He hoped to keep it going. Slow worked best for him.

For her, too, apparently. He curved his hand about her neck, tipped up her chin with his thumb, and felt her skin warm against his palm. She was embarrassed by her show of emotion. “You okay?” he asked. Wiping away her tears with his shirt sleeve.

“Dreams and bodies broken.” Her words were watery. “The world can be harsh.” She eased back, noticed the splatter. “Sorry about that.”

“Coffee stains come out. No big deal.”

She stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You tired of me?”

“It's not you. I'm sleep deprived.”

“I'm keeping you up.” He glanced at his watch, couldn't believe it was four a.m. “What time do you get up?”

“Five.”

“An hour's sleep isn't much.”

“I manage on very little.”

He reached for his smartphone, and immediately noticed there were a dozen texts from Halo. All asking where he was and who he was with. He sent a quick message.
Headed home
, and left it at that.

“Name of a cab company I can call?” he asked her.

“Where are you staying?”

“Driftwood Inn.” He'd moved his clothes and important items into the team's hotel near the stadium. The inn was comfortable, with all amenities. Meals, housekeeping, laundry, spa, anything the men required. Landon appreciated the masseuse the most. He'd scheduled a standing appointment every afternoon following practice. Wind-down time.

“I can take you,” she offered.

“And miss your hour's sleep? No way,” he teased her. “I don't want you dropping me off and driving back alone.”

“I drive alone a lot.”

“You need a mannequin or Teddy bear in the passenger seat so it looks like someone's with you. Much safer.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” She scrunched her nose, said, “Try Shoreline Taxi, owned and operated by my cousin Brent.”

“Cateses are everywhere.”

“It is our town.”

Landon made the call. He was told a cab was in the vicinity and to be outside the wedding chapel in five minutes. “Will my coming out of your cottage have people talking?” he asked.

“Who's up at this hour to gossip?”

“What about the taxi driver?”

“He'll want to talk baseball, not about me.”

He turned to leave, and she was right behind him. Following him down the aisle and to the door. He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “I have a question for you. When were you last wrong?”

“Tonight. About you.” The words seemed difficult for her to say. “You're different than I expected.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I'll let you know at the bonfire,” was all she would give him. “Don't stand too close to the flames.”

He didn't need his marshmallows roasted.

* * *

“I see you made it home all right last night,” Eden said to Landon as they stood a good distance from the bonfire that was burning north of the pier. This was no small campfire. More a significant signal fire that could be seen miles out in the Gulf. Firemen and a truck monitored the blaze.

“Halo met me in the parking lot,” Landon relayed. “He'd been out looking, and couldn't find me. He read me the riot act. Worse than a father.”

“It's good to have a friend who cares about you.”

“You're right about that.”

“Where's your contest winner?” she asked.

“Eleanor Norris needed to use the ladies room. Shaye walked her to the boardwalk facilities.” He ran one hand down his face. “For ninety, she sure is chatty. She informed me of all her ailments and medications and gave me emergency contact numbers should something happen to her.”

“Did she travel alone?”

“She came with her walking cane, Herman. Named after her late husband. She talks to the cane, as if it was a person.”

“I talk to my Porsche.”

“Does Geddes talk back?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“The cane speaks only to Eleanor and she responds.”

“So you can't hear it?”

“Not yet, but maybe by the end of the week.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

Eden took a moment and looked around, absorbing the atmosphere. She made mental notes on lighting and angles. The types of shots she wanted to take. The bonfire was as private an activity as could occur on a public beach. Yellow tape circled the area. Her cousin Rylan had introduced her to everyone, even those she already knew. He was considerate. Wanting her to feel comfortable at the event. She'd exhaled. Relaxed.