Payoff Pitch (Philadelphia Patriots) (25 page)

Nate snorted. “I know you, and I know how you handle pain. But don’t try to be a hero. Get an MRI, and soon.”

Noah shook his head. “Those radiologists read whatever they want into MRIs. Any little thing that could be a problem, they’re on it like a damn pit bull. The next thing you know you’re under the knife.”

“Yeah, maybe. But, look, if you keep stressing that arm, you’re going to make whatever is going on inside there into a big fucking problem. You need to come clean with management and get a real diagnosis.”

Short of tearing his UCL again, undergoing shoulder surgery was Noah’s biggest nightmare. Even if it was only the bare minimum involved in tightening the joint, he’d be looking at missing the rest of this season and maybe part of the next, too. What were the chances that the Patriots’ front office would stay patient with him for that length of time? He wasn’t some flame-throwing young stud with a decade or more of success ahead of him. At the moment at least, Noah Cade was nothing more than a middle reliever, a guy so far down on the pitching totem pole that he couldn’t see daylight.

But Nate might be right. Noah had to admit that trying to play through the pain might endanger his career. Not knowing what else to say, he leaned forward, his head bowed and his eyes staring down at the piles of sunflower seed shells that littered the dugout floor.

Nate leaned on his forearms, too, imitating Noah’s posture. “Look, the team needs you, but you’ve got to think of your career and your health first. You gotta do what’s right for you in the long run. Make the smart choice.”

Noah nodded but stayed silent. While Nate’s advice rang true, what the hell was the right thing to do in the long run? The stakes were too high to get it wrong.

At that moment, surrounded on the bench by his closest friends, he’d never felt as alone in his life.

After freshening up in front of the bathroom mirror, Teddy gave her hair a few final brush strokes before she tied it back in her usual working ponytail. While Emma was out to dinner with some guy she’d hooked up with via a dating site, Teddy had made herself manicotti with a salad and then channel surfed for a couple of hours before changing from shorts and sandals into jeans and sneakers. The day had been hot and sultry, but the stiffening breeze billowing out her bedroom curtains told her a cold front was passing through and the temperature would be falling for the rest of the evening.

Funnily enough, it still felt strange to be back in the townhouse with Emma. Maybe it was because she’d done some painting and decorating in her bedroom at Noah’s that it had made it so quickly feel like her home. Whatever the reason, she had to admit she missed it. After all, it was pretty cool to have a huge, high-ceilinged bedroom with its own private and almost decadent bathroom. It was sure a far cry from her room here and from the modest farmhouse where she’d grown up.

Who was she kidding, though? It wasn’t really the cushy bedroom she missed. It was Noah. The dull ache that had permeated her body since the first argument over Baron Energy hadn’t lessened in the intervening days. If anything, it was worsening—probably because she’d seen his gorgeous, manly self every day, if only briefly. Plus, Noah had been so damn nice that it made her cool and entirely fake attitude seem churlish.

But then yesterday they’d replayed the first argument, this time hiking up the temperature to the boiling point, and that had reminded her of why she’d left in the first place. Just when she’d started to soften a little toward him, Noah’s pig-headed defense of his father’s company and everything she hated about the oil and gas industry had made her storm out of the house before she either threw a dog dish at him or burst into uncontrollable tears.

He just didn’t get it. Didn’t get
her.
To him, the whole thing was just a stupid argument over politics, as he’d called it. But every time Teddy thought of all her parents’ hard work over the years and of the precious and beautiful farmland that had been in her family for generations, Noah’s blinkered attitude made her crazy with frustration.

Teddy slipped on a light sweater and was just about to pick up her car keys when Emma came in the door. “You’re home kind of early, aren’t you?” Teddy said, surprised.

Emma tossed her keys into the dish as she blew out a sigh. “When the guy is so boring that you almost fall asleep in your appetizer, you don’t stick around for after dinner drinks.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse. I should know better than to keep surfing those stupid dating sites.” She frowned as Teddy grabbed the keys to her Escape from the same dish. “You’re going out? I thought you were done for the day.”

Teddy shook her head. “Toby didn’t seem quite right when I fed him this afternoon. His eyes were a little cloudy and he didn’t have his usual energy. I think I’d better go back and check on him again since Noah’s at the game and the housekeeper wouldn’t know a sick dog if he threw up on her shoes.”

If necessary, she’d load Toby in her car and take him to the emergency vet. She’d had one Poodle bloat on her in this job and prayed she’d never have another.

“Well, with what the guy’s paying us, he ought to be able to expect extra special service if he wants it,” Emma said.

Teddy’s eyes widened.

Emma snorted. “I wasn’t talking about
that
kind of special service.”

Teddy hadn’t mentioned anything about her passionate night with Noah, though she’d of course filled her partner in on the arguments they’d had over Baron Energy. Emma had been supportive of her decision to take a time-out, but Teddy knew she was also concerned that they might lose Noah as a client.

“Anyway, whatever you can do to make sure you stay in the man’s good graces, I’m all for it,” Emma continued. “And, like I said, if you ever want to switch assignments with me, you know I’d give it my utmost consideration.”

Teddy had actually given that possibility some thought. She seriously doubted Noah would accept the switch, though, and she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. Not when she had the best-paying gig anyone could imagine. And not when she needed that kind of income if she was going to make her law school dream come true before she was an old lady.

Teddy gave her partner a quick hug. “I know you think I’m a nut job to be fighting with Noah over his father’s company, much less risking our contract with him. But you’ve got to trust me on this. I’ll do everything I can to make it work.”

Emma squeezed her back. “I know you will.”

As she headed out to her car, Teddy could only pray she was right even though everything felt so wrong.

As soon as she let herself in through Noah’s front door, Teddy knew she’d been right to come back. A revolting smell immediately overpowered her. Toby had clearly done his business in the house—something he’d never do unless he was sick. And Teddy knew that particular odor all too well. It spelled big trouble.

“Cristina?” she called out as she hurried through the foyer and down the center hall. “Cristina?” she said in a louder voice.

Teddy raced past the housekeeper’s door, seeing it was closed. Then she remembered that Cristina often went to the movies with a friend on discount night.

The smell was clearly coming from the kitchen, and as Teddy slid around the corner grasping the doorjamb for balance, her heart sank at the sight of Toby stretched out flat against the French doors. Behind him, running almost the length of the kitchen was the reeking evidence of his intestinal distress. It looked like the poor sweetheart had gone to the door hoping to be let out, but there had been no human in the house to make that happen for him.

And that sent a sharp stab of guilt through Teddy’s gut.

When he saw her, Toby started to struggle to get up. Ignoring the mess for the moment, Teddy ran to him and got down on her knees, looking him in the eyes. They were glassy and barely focused. He managed to wobble up onto his feet, but his pasterns were bent and he was shaking. Not chancing that he might fall over, Teddy coaxed him back down until he lay on his side. She gently palpated his abdomen which, thank God, was soft and not bloated out. His breathing was steady and not too labored. Had he perhaps eaten something weird in the yard? Or picked up some kind of intestinal bug on one of their trips to the park?

“Sadie?” Teddy called for the other Poodle, wanting to see if she was all right. As she stroked Toby’s head, she heard Sadie thump down the stairs and paddle down the hall. Teddy didn’t want Sadie tracking through the mess so she got up and collared the dog before she reached the kitchen. Toby’s sister seemed fine so Teddy shut her in the laundry room to keep her out of the way for now.

Turning back to Toby, Teddy raced through the options available to her. She could get a dose of metronidazole from her kit and pill Toby, hoping that the antibiotic would soon knock out whatever was ailing him. Or, she could load the dog up and race off to the emergency vet. They knew her well at a 24-hour clinic downtown, and it was only about fifteen minutes away at this time of day. Either way, she had to make a decision and soon. She glanced at her watch—she couldn’t call Noah, not when the ballgame was certainly still in progress.

Had it been her dog, she might have tried the metronidazole and carefully monitored Toby overnight. But he wasn’t her dog, and she wasn’t about to take even the slightest risk of screwing up with Noah’s beloved pet. Better to leave a message on his cell and head straight to the emergency vet.

But first she had to do a quick cleanup. If Cristina got home to this reeking mess, she’d probably have a heart attack or faint and give herself a concussion. Teddy did not want
that
on her conscience, so she gently led Toby out into the hall then grabbed a roll of paper towels, a black garbage bag, and the bottle of disinfectant spray she kept under the kitchen sink.

This is the job, she reminded herself as she inhaled short breaths and got to work.

Her cleaning efforts were basic but enough to get rid of the mess and most of the smell. After double bagging what she’d picked up, Teddy opened the door to the garage and tossed the bag into the trash bin. She let Sadie out of the laundry room and collared Toby, snapping on a leash and walking him slowly out to her car after locking the front door.

She’d just opened the rear hatch, thinking maybe it was wiser not to risk him messing the back seat, when headlights washed over her and Toby.

The BMW’s tires squealed as it stopped hard in the driveway.
Noah.

How can he be home this early?

When Toby didn’t jump into the SUV—another indication of how out of sorts he was feeling—Teddy slid her arms up around his legs and hoisted him up. “Lie down, sweetie,” she said in a soothing voice, easing him gently into the position she wanted.

When she turned around, Noah was standing next to her, his shoulders hiked up around his ears as he peered in at his dog. “Teddy, what’s going on?”

“I’m taking Toby to the emergency vet. He made a mess in the kitchen and looks distressed to me. I could try giving him something and see how he does, but I thought you’d probably want me to get him to a vet.”

He thought for a couple of moments, then nodded. “You thought right. Let’s go.”

“You’re coming?” She mentally kicked herself as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Of course he would come—he loved Toby and felt an enormous responsibility toward his aunt’s dog.

“We’re wasting time,” he said. “I’ll get my car out of the way and ride with you. You’ll be coming back here after we’re done at the vet, right?”

“Of course,” Teddy said with no hesitation, though she actually thought that probably wouldn’t be necessary. If Toby was declared okay, Noah could take him home by himself. If the vet wanted to keep the dog overnight, then there was certainly no need for her to go back to Bryn Mawr other than to drop him off. But pointing all that out was not something that would make Noah happy.

She closed the hatch and hurried into the car. As she looked in her rearview mirror at Noah gunning the BMW back out onto the street, she allowed herself a sigh of relief. While she was perfectly capable of handling this emergency on her own, the fact that Noah would be with her gave her a surprising amount of comfort.

Why, she wasn’t yet ready to examine.

Noah completely trusted Teddy’s judgment when it came to the dogs. When she told him what Toby had done, for about one second he’d thought that maybe it would be over-reacting to rush the pup to the vet. But Teddy was a pro, and if she thought it made sense to get Toby checked out, he was down with that. Hell, why take even the slightest risk of anything happening? Aunt Roz would put a contract out on him if he screwed up with her baby.

The clinic was surprisingly busy at this hour. With only one vet on duty and a dog and a cat ahead of them in the queue, they had to wait well over half an hour before the girl at the front desk ushered them into a small examination room that smelled like an obnoxious combination of disinfectant and animal odors. It made him want to stick a clothespin on his nose, but Teddy didn’t even seem to notice it.

They hadn’t talked much on the drive to the clinic or in the waiting area. She’d briefly described what she’d done at the house—which he’d sincerely and profusely thanked her for—and then wanted to know why he’d come back to the house so early tonight. Not inclined to delve into his struggles on the field, he’d told her the bare-bones truth—that he’d pitched one inning in the middle of the game and, after icing his arm and showering, he’d left. Normally, he waited in the clubhouse for the game to end but tonight he’d just wanted to get out of there. Go home, put his feet up, and drink a beer while he watched some mindless TV and thought about his messed up life.

Those plans had been shot to hell before he’d even made it out of his car.

The vet entered the room a minute later, stethoscope around her neck and a clipboard in her hand. Blonde and blue-eyed with black-rimmed glasses, she wore a flower-print blouse under an open white lab coat. She barely looked out of her teens but was probably late twenties. Ignoring Teddy, she glanced at Noah and then back down at the clipboard. “Mr. Cade? Noah Cade?” she said as she gave Toby’s head a quick pat.