Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3 Page 13

  Gunner shoved Blake. “I’ll be starting soon enough, and then you’ll see how much time I get on the mound.”

  Juan guffawed. “Oh man! You have some spice in you, little man. You keep that fire going and you might just make it. You know?”

  Tilly relaxed a fraction. Joking around, she could handle.

  Gunner gave her a smoldering look. “I know what I want.”

  She gave Gunner a pained smile. Tilly had exchanged many of those types of looks with Brayden—too many to put a number on—and not once had they had the effect on people around them that Gunner’s did. All feelings of camaraderie died a strangled death as the guys coughed and looked away. Everyone turned back in their seats and resumed eating, the room quieter than before. Some guys on the other side of the room left. They couldn’t have known what happened, but their departure felt like a snub anyway.

  She leaned sideways and spoke low. “I don’t think I’m winning you any points being here.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t need to be their bestie. What I do in my personal life isn’t their business.”

  “They’re just looking out for me.”

  He scowled. “I’m not sure it’s you they’re looking out for.” He tipped his head at the empty seat.

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Sorry.”

  He placed his hand over hers. His skin was warm, the strength in his body evident in that touch. While Tilly noticed all these things, she also noticed a lack of attraction. She would feel the same sense of friendship with Blake or Juan.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I hope you don’t blame yourself.” His dark blue eyes bored into hers.

  Tilly sighed. “That’s the nature of a breakup, right? It takes two to make a relationship work.”

  “Yeah, but only one to ruin it. I’ve met you both. You don’t have a chip on your shoulder.”

  She smiled. It was nice to have someone besides her mom and dad on her side. Clover and Elise had been there for her from the start, but they walked a line because Brayden was also their friend. The players seated around the room were all in his corner. Had she broken up with him, they might not let her in the stadium.

  She turned her hand over and squeezed Gunner’s fingers before letting go. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.” Gunner’s pronouncement had built up her resolve. She was going to move on. It might take years to get Brayden out of her system, but she had to try.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brayden

  The Redrocks lost the game 6–2, setting the whole team on edge. No one liked to lose. No one. Some of them took losing harder than they celebrated winning. Brayden was one of those kinds of guys. But it wasn’t the game that had him grinding his teeth all morning; it was seeing Tilly walk into the team dinner with Gunner.

  He really hated that guy, and to see his lady, looking so incredible with her hair hanging freely and her big green eyes, focused on that punk of a player, had eaten at him all night long. He’d hardly slept and been cranky with Tyrel during his training session that morning. He had to come in before the players arrived to get in his workout. Doc was keeping him to the schedule, checking in at the end of his sessions for a progress report. Usually he left with a sense of accomplishment, but today, he was just ticked.

  It was with all of this rolling through him like troubled waters that Brayden headed into the cage to meet up with Gunner for their session.

  Instead of throwing, Gunner was on his phone, his thumbs flying. Brayden walked over to Newton, who had on his gear and stood behind the plate, ready to get started.

  “Has he thrown yet?” asked Brayden.

  Newton shook his head. “He’s been texting since he got here. He’s not even warmed up.”

  Brayden growled and spun on his heel to head for Gunner. “Hey, put that away.”

  Gunner didn’t look up. “I’m talking to my real estate agent.”

  Brayden glared. “Do that on your day off.”

  “I don’t want to lose this house.”

  “Maybe you should.” This brought Gunner’s head up. “If you don’t start throwing better, you won’t have a paycheck to pay for it.”

  Gunner rolled his eyes. “You’re as temporary as I am. I heard Coach tell you this was a trial run.”

  Brayden checked his surprise. “Yep. So maybe you should put a little more effort into doing your job and a little less into enjoying the benefits.”

  “I see.” Gunner tucked his phone into his back pocket. “This is about Tilly.”

  “I didn’t say anything about Tilly. This is about you.”

  “Bull crap. You’re ticked because I brought her to dinner.”

  Yeah, he was, but that wasn’t what this was about. Brayden shook his head. “Leave that off the field. You always leave relationship crap off the field. When you’re here, you have to be all here.” He tapped his temple. “If things are gelling in your personal life or if they’re in the toilet, you change out of that mindset when you change clothes in the locker room. Every guy has to learn to do it.”

  “Right—and you’re the poster child for that. You about swallowed your jaw when you saw us walk in together last night.” Gunner swiped a ball off the dirt and began tossing it in the air in front of him.

  “That was last night.”

  “Face it—I’m the competition and you’re eager to rag on me.”

  Brayden’s chest expanded. He looked down at Gunner—a guy who was a couple inches shorter than him, twenty pounds lighter, and full of himself. “You are not my competition.”

  “Please. I have exactly what you lost.” He tossed the ball again.

  Brayden snatched it out of the air, crushing it in his hand. From day one, Gunner’s attitude had rubbed Brayden the wrong way. He dealt with a lot of big personalities and even bigger egos on a daily basis. But Gunner’s accusation brought things into focus, and he realized why he hadn’t like him. He stepped closer, towering over the punk. “Let’s get one thing straight. If I didn’t have two bolts in my neck, you. Wouldn’t. Be. Here.” He paused to let the words sink in and watched as the weight of them settled in Gunner’s eyes.

  He shoved the ball into Gunner’s chest, and Gunner grabbed it out of reflex as Brayden continued, “I’m a better pitcher than you will ever be. As long as I can remember how to pitch, I’ll always be better. So don’t think you’ve taken one thing from me.” The words felt so satisfying coming out of his mouth— empowering. He still had what it took to be great. Yeah, he may not be able to rotate his arm correctly, but the greatness was inside of him. Pitching had been the outlet, the way to show the rest of the world the lion that lived in his soul. But there were other ways—coaching was one of them. Inspiring kids to find their inner lion was another. He’d felt some of that the other day when Tilly’s tour has surprised them in the locker room. He should talk to Sheila about doing some school visits. His message had been good for preteens before, but maybe he could talk to teens about the way life throws you curveballs and you have to swing at them.

  His thoughts jumped to Tilly. Was she swinging at curveballs by seeing Gunner? Were they dating? He followed his own advice and shoved those thoughts out of the cage.

  “Are you going to throw today or not?” Brayden barked.

  Gunner toed the dirt. When he finally lifted his chin, there was a hunger in his eyes. “Get off my mound.”

  Brayden bowed slightly, spreading his arms wide as he backed away. “Own it,” he told the punk. Own it was his phrase, the thing he’d told himself on the walk from the bullpen to the mound. Owning it meant he was in command of the game. He was ready to set the pace. He was all in and focused solely on the next pitch.

  Newton squatted behind the plate, his mitt out in front of him. Gunner threw an easy ball for warm-up, even though his muscles were wound tight.

  Brayden glanced at the bucket he usually sat on during these sessions. He folded his arms and spread his feet apart. There would be no sitting today. A man didn’t sit when there w
as a lion roaring in his chest.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tilly

  Tilly swiped the tears off her cheeks. “I’m never going to stop crying,” she said to her mom, who was on a video chat. She’d propped her phone up on the dresser, and her mom had a view of the entire room.

  “This is going to help you move forward.” Mom smiled as she folded clothes at the kitchen table in her dining room. Her parents rarely used the room for more than family holidays, so Mom had made it her official folding station.

  Since Tilly was working diligently at getting over Brayden, she decided it was time to get rid of all the reminders of him that hung around her house. After cleaning his protein powder out of the cupboard and his Symphony bars out of the fridge, she called in some backup. Her mom had agreed to stay on the chat until she’d gotten through the tough parts.

  The thing was, they were all tough parts.

  Tilly glanced at the neat piles of towels on the screen. “That’s not how you taught me to fold those.”

  Mom trilled a laugh. “I got hooked on this show about tidying up. This woman wants to bring joy into the world by teaching people how to fold clothes and organize closets.”

  “And you listened to her?” Her mom was one of those people that had her own methods and insisted they worked for her, so there was no need to change them. Tilly had grown up knowing that towels should be folded in fourths. Mom’s were in thirds.

  “Well, she has a lot of interesting points.” Mom leaned closer to the screen. “I donated half my clothes to refugees, and I don’t even miss them. My closet is beautiful. I feel so free.”

  “That’s great.” Tilly looked down in the box full of Brayden’s things. His T-shirts. A hoodie. A mitt. She was having a hard time giving all of it back to him. It felt like she was pulling off parts of her body and handing them over. Not having Brayden’s presence in her home was wrong. Instead of feeling good about the space it freed up, she just felt empty.

  “What’s that in the corner?” Mom pointed behind her.

  She turned to see the hospital bags. There were several piled one on top of the other. Her ears burned with embarrassment. “Shoot. Those are the bags we brought back from the hospital.”

  “Tilly Creswick! They should have been cleaned out long ago.”

  “Maybe I should just throw them out now. I haven’t missed anything that’s in them.” Her harnesses and Brayden’s were probably in there. Some dirt-stained clothes. She blew out a heavy breath as she worked to pile her hair on top of her head in a messy bun. She really loved having her hair out of dreads. She could do almost anything with it now. And the memory of Brayden’s hand brushing the strands was still strong—she got goose bumps every time she thought about it.

  “Your spare set of keys might be in there.”

  “Oh yeah.” Crap.

  Mom finished folding and set the towel on the pile with a satisfied smile. “You know, if you really want to tidy up, you should dump all of it in the middle of the floor and sort through.”

  Tilly reached for the first bag and did as her mom said. Brayden’s shirt, shoes, and shorts tumbled out. She pulled in air through her nose, intent on not losing it again. “I’m not washing these for him.” She tossed the shirt into his box. The items she’d worn, she felt the need to run through a wash cycle but these were not her responsibility. When she picked up his shorts, her hand closed around something square in the pocket. “What in the heck?”

  She fumbled to get the mystery item out. As soon as her eyes landed on the white velvet box, she gasped and dropped the pants.

  “What is it?” Mom sat at the table, her focus on Tilly and the ring box in her hand.

  Tilly’s heart raced and her hands shook. She closed her eyes. “This can’t be what I think it is.” Her mind jumped back to that day as Brayden climbed into her Jeep and gave her a lingering kiss hello. The pure love that practically dripped off of him. His excitement to get on their way.

  “Don’t open it,” said Mom. “You’re going through enough. You don’t need that memory too.”

  “I have to.”

  Mom frowned, resigned.

  Tilly slowly lifted the lid. It made a small protest, and she cringed. Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes pouring tears. “It’s beautiful.” She turned it around so her mom could see the square diamond haloed with dozens of smaller gems set in platinum.

  “Wow.” Mom gaped.

  “I know.” Tilly hugged it to her chest, her chin tucked down. “All this time I wondered if he really did love me.”

  “How could you have doubted that? We all saw how much he adored you.”

  “I know.” Tilly swiped her cheek with her shoulder, not wanting to let the ring go. “I just couldn’t see how someone who loved me so much could hurt me so badly.”

  “Oh, honey. It’s because you love him that it hurt so much.”

  Tilly stared down at the rock. Brayden was going to ask her to marry him. The longing looks. The pain in his eyes. The anger at seeing her with Gunner. It all made sense now. “He must be hurting too.” Her body sagged and she settled against the footboard, her legs out in front of her.

  “He probably is,” agreed Mom. “Are you going to talk to him about this?”

  Tilly considered her options. “And say what? ‘I know you love me—here’s the ring’?” She stared down at the diamond, imagining what it would look like on her finger. If she had picked a ring, this would have been the one.

  “Well, not exactly those words,” Mom hedged.

  “Or maybe something like, ‘If you really love me, you’ll stop being a bullheaded jagweed and get down on one knee right now.’”

  Mom scowled. “Language.”

  Tilly rolled her eyes. “Jagweed is not a swear word, Mom. The guys on the team use it.” She rolled her hand around in the air, trying to come up with the right definition. “It means jerk.”

  “Oh. Then yes—lead with the jagweed comment.”

  Tilly snorted a laugh. Her gaze drifted back to the beautiful engagement ring. Her soul sighed. She thought about all that she’d gone through since the accident. How Brayden had pushed her away even though she needed him. Yes, he’d been the one who lost the most, but she’d been hurting too. She shook her head, scrambling for his dirty pants, stuffing the box back into the pocket. “No.”

  “He’s probably aching for you, hon.”

  “That’s his choice. At this point, I don’t think I’d take him back.”

  “Says the girl who cried over protein powder.”

  Tilly laughed even as she wiped her tears. Considering the way her body reacted to his touch, they were brave words. If Brayden snuck in here in the middle of the night and woke her with a kiss, she’d wrap her arms around his neck and lose herself in a world-class make-out session without even having to think about it.

  “I won’t blame you if you never speak to him again.” Mom fiddled with a washcloth. “But I kind of miss the dumb jerk too. Don’t fool yourself into thinking married people don’t hurt each other. Love and forgiveness go hand in hand.”

  Tilly lifted her lips in a toothless smile. She put the pants, shoes, and shirt back in the bag and put the bag in the box. “Thanks, Mom, for being here for this. I’m so glad I have you and Dad.”

  Mom allowed her the change of subject. “Us too, darling. When are you giving him back his things?”

  “I’m going to run them over right now.” Because Brayden wasn’t there and Maverik would hug her. She could use a dose of a dad’s strength today.

  “Call me back if you want to talk—or cry some more.”

  “I will.” Tilly blew her mom a kiss and ended the call. She sat on the floor for another fifteen minutes before she felt emotionally taped together enough to head over to Brayden’s. She wouldn’t go inside. Couldn’t. She had a whole new heartache to get over now that she knew what could have been.

  Strangely, as she crossed the street with the box in her arms, she felt a peace she had
n’t in quite a while. Knowing that Brayden was going to propose was big—it made her feel like what they’d shared had meant something to him too. That she wasn’t so easily brushed aside and forgotten.

  It also made her ache for him because his heart was broken too. Darn her if she didn’t want to comfort him, to soothe his troubled soul. Whatever was going on with Brayden, only he could fix. She refused to crawl back and beg him to be hers. If he didn’t want her, even if it was hurting him to be apart, she wasn’t going to change that.

  And if he did change his mind …? Even then, like she’d told her mom, she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Brayden

  Brayden pulled into the neighborhood, slowing down for the speed bump and watching for Mrs. Benson’s grandkids, who liked to play street hockey at night. They weren’t out, but Tilly was walking down the sidewalk. She stepped up to her front door and disappeared inside without looking behind her.

  He glanced at his house. Had she been there?

  Just as he was getting out of the car, Natalie’s Chevy pulled in behind him. He stood outside, waiting for her to get out because he really didn’t want to invite her inside. Though he would if he had to to be polite. She’d helped him a lot in the first week home, bringing him dinners and such. He didn’t feel like he owed her anything, but he could be a better friend. Since Blake and Dustin had hurried home to be with their girls, Juan invited him over, but he didn’t feel like gaming in Juan’s media room tonight. His hands kept twitching. He’d hoped to go for an evening hike and get some pent-up energy out.

  He put on his interview smile for Natalie. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  She grinned, flipping her glossy hair over her shoulder. She seemed pleased that he’d noticed she was gone. Shoot. He didn’t mean it that way. “I’ve been filling in for a friend at work who had a baby.” She glanced down at the car and then looked up at him shyly. “Have you had dinner yet?”