Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3 Page 3

  “The doctor said—” Tilly fully intended to tell her to shove it, but the woman had moved around the bed and grabbed the handles of her wheelchair.

  “Since you’re not family, I’m going to have to ask you to leave anyway.”

  She didn’t wait for Tilly’s response. Instead, she rolled her out the door, far enough that Mom had to leave the room to catch up to them. Tilly couldn’t put her feet down to stop the movement for fear of further injuring her ankle.

  Mom’s lips disappeared and she glared at the nurse as she bustled out, carrying Brayden’s bag of personal items. Natalie must have thought they were Tilly’s bags, because she didn’t say a word as she dogged around Mom and back through Brayden’s door, shutting it firmly behind her.

  Tilly leaned back in her seat, exhausted. “I think I need some rest.”’

  “What about …?” Mom jerked her chin towards the closed door.

  Tilly sighed. “If I got upset every time a woman showed interest in Brayden, I’d be angry most of my life. I trust him. And she can’t do much while he’s asleep.”

  Mom took the handles. “I don’t trust her. She could cut his hair and sell it on eBay.”

  “That’s because you’re …” With effort, Tilly took a breath and let it out. “Smart.”

  “Okay, home to bed for you.”

  Tilly let the shapes around her blur as her mother wheeled out of the hospital and drove her home. She didn’t remember much about settling into her bed, except that it felt really good to be in her sheets, her head on her pillow. She’d rest for a few hours and then go back to be with Brayden. He was going to need someone there to hold his hand when he learned he wouldn’t be back on the mound. The news was going to shatter him. She only hoped there were enough pieces to put back together.

  Chapter Three

  Brayden

  Being in the hospital was really starting to wear on him, and Brayden only remembered a day and half of his stay. He’d been unconscious for the two days before that. Two days of his life, gone.

  Not that he had a lot of reasons to celebrate living. The one blessing he could count, Tilly, was MIA. He’d asked the nurses over and over again about her, but was told she’d checked out of the hospital. Her mom was in town. They couldn’t give him any medical information, and his cell phone had disappeared—probably at the bottom of the cliff where he’d fallen. He didn’t know her number; it had always been at the top of his contacts list.

  He remembered the fall—in vivid color. He replayed the accident several times, usually right before the pain meds kicked in and he fell asleep. The video paused on the moment Tilly hit the wall. Her injuries had to be bad; she’d hit so hard his body had jolted. When he wasn’t in a haze of meds, he was praying for her, praying she would get better. He’d told God in the middle of the night that he’d give up Tilly so she could have a normal life with someone who didn’t break their neck if God would just make her better and let him see her one more time.

  Men in hospital gowns and neck braces were full of desperate thoughts.

  “Hey, lazy butt.” Blake strode through the door, wearing a Redrocks T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. His kicks were so bright, they reflected in the ugly floor tiles. Behind him came Dustin. As per his new look, he’d shaved and his hair was short enough to see his scalp.

  Juan brought up the rear. He paused in the doorway and threw his arms out. “Whaaazuup?”

  Brayden almost felt like smiling. “You guys are stupid.”

  “You mean you’re stupid happy to see us.” Dustin held up his hand for a fist bump. Brayden concentrated in order to make connection, his movements slow. That was the highest he’d lifted his arm since he got here. The mean PT would be so proud.

  “How are they treating you, man?” asked Dustin.

  “Good, I guess.” Brayden waved to the television. “I had a front-row seat to your game last night. Nice closeout.” He nodded to Blake. “Of course, I could have done better, but they wanted me to hang here for a couple more days.”

  The guys chuckled.

  “How’s Tilly?” asked Juan. He looked around for her, even checked under the bed as if he expected her to be hiding.

  Brayden’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  “Whaaaa?” asked Juan, loudly. He had the ability to say what everyone was thinking without ticking anyone off. It was an annoying gift.

  “They sent her home, and my phone’s dead.” He cursed. He was so stupid. “Can I borrow your phone?” he asked Dustin.

  Dustin pulled it out of his pocket. “Um, Clover is with her now. Her mom had to go home—something about her dad’s blood sugar getting too high.”

  Brayden nodded. Tilly’s father, Rob, had been diagnosed with Type II diabetes a couple months ago. They were working on figuring out how to regulate his blood sugar and help him lose weight. The news had rocked the family. Tilly had gone north to spend a few days with them and teach her dad some basic weight-lifting exercises. She’d insist her mom go home if her dad needed help.

  At the time of the diagnosis, he hadn’t thought much about leaving her because he was a ball player; that’s what he had to do. She didn’t ask him to stay either. They’d had an understanding when it came to his schedule. She was cool with the demands the Redrocks placed on his time. He thought she’d make the perfect baseball wife. But … he didn’t need a baseball wife now.

  He blinked as he looked down at the screen of Dustin’s phone, the green call button staring back up at him. He jerked his eyes away. “Have you talked to her?”

  All the guys nodded.

  Brayden glared at Juan, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold back an honest answer. “When did you talk to my girlfriend?” As far as he knew, Juan and Tilly were only friends through him. Not that Tilly would do anything behind his back, but he was feeling oddly vulnerable lying in bed, unable to twist his head from side to side while these jerks walked around like it was nothing.

  “Oh, dude. When I took her some flowers. See, when a woman gets stitches, she needs flowers. And I just thought that I’d take her some, you know? Because you were stuck in here and not awake and stuff.”

  Brayden blinked several times. “That was nice of you.”

  Juan’s smile lit up his whole face. “I just thought that, you know, you’re a cool guy, and this sucks, man. It really, really sucks.” Again, saying what they all thought.

  Blake shook his head at Juan. “Elise took her dinner last night. She looks pretty beat up. And she’s sleeping a lot. The pills they gave her knock her out. She wanted to come see you, but she practically fell asleep walking to the car.”

  The dark cloud that hovered over Brayden descended with a vengeance. His girl was hurt, and there was not a dang thing he could do about it. He slammed his fist into the bed. “I need to get out of here.”

  “That’s what I hear. I hear you’ve only got a couple more days,” volunteered Juan.

  Blake nodded. “I overheard Dr. Burningham saying that they were working to have you released into his care. The whole PT team is studying up on your injury, getting ready for your workout schedule.”

  “Yeah, right.” Brayden coughed away the lump in his throat. He couldn’t even think about baseball and whether or not he’d be able to play right now. He’d told the doctor not to tell him. He needed the hope. His heart wouldn’t lie to him, though, and neither did his neck. The X-rays were gruesomely clear. He had two metal rods in his vertebrae—he wasn’t sure what the name of his injury was, because he’d zoned out when the doc explained how he’d have those rods near the bottom of his neck for the rest of his life. He’d be lucky if he could rotate his shoulder. And throwing a baseball? A miracle.

  “It’s true,” Juan insisted. His eyes were wide, the whites of them screaming that he would never tell a lie.

  “Well, that would be more than I could hope for.” He scooted down in the bed, suddenly wanting his healthy and prime-of-life friends to leav
e.

  They all shifted, twisting or turning slightly, exchanging looks.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “We were just wondering …” Dustin ran his hand through his hair. “Clover said Tilly wasn’t wearing a ring …”

  “I didn’t get the chance.” Brayden wondered where the ring ended up. It could be anywhere, lost in the red dirt at the bottom of the cliff, for all he knew.

  They all nodded, looking like a lineup of bobblehead figures.

  “It’s probably for the best, though,” he muttered.

  “Gentlemen!” His day nurse entered, her long black hair swinging over her shoulder. “As wonderful as it is to walk into this party, I’m going to have to ask you to leave so I can take care of my patient.” She winked at him.

  He dropped his gaze. Natalie was a flirt, had been since the moment he opened his eyes. He wasn’t attracted to her, but he appreciated her cheerfulness. Especially since he’d been cranky today. No matter how he groused, she met him with a smile and an encouraging word.

  Juan’s eyes followed Natalie’s movement across the room. When she was in the corner, checking the computer, he whispered, “Dang, bro. I didn’t know they made nurses like that.”

  “She’s all yours.” Brayden motioned for him to go after her, to make his move.

  Juan turned beet red. “Nah. She’s workin’. I’ll check her later.”

  “What? You’ll flirt with my girl in the PT room, but someone available comes up and you’re all tongue-tied?” Blake shoved him.

  Juan lifted his chin. “You got it all wrong, bro. Elise is flirting with me.” He danced two steps away as Blake swung at him. They headed for the door, Juan floating like a butterfly and Blake trying to sting like a bee. “Catch you later, bro,” Juan called as he left.

  Blake grunted, just missing cuffing Juan’s head. “Get better. We need you.”

  Dustin glanced at the nurse, who was smiling after the men who acted like little boys. “When are you going to propose?” he asked purposefully.

  Brayden threaded his fingers together and rested his hands in his lap. “I’m not.”

  “But—”

  “I can’t be the man I was. Not don’t want to be; I can’t be.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “She won’t want a broken man.”

  “I know that there’s more to you than being able to throw a 98-mile-per-hour fastball. She didn’t fall in love with your arm, man. She fell for you.” He stood. “Think about that for a while.” With a warning glare, he left Brayden alone with the flirty nurse.

  Brayden sighed. Since when had his friends become so loyal to his girlfriend? What happened to brotherhood and the team?

  Natalie sat on his bed, so close that her hip leaned on his thigh. “I snuck you some of that cinnamon applesauce you like.” She pulled the cup and a plastic-wrapped spoon out of her pocket.

  “Thanks,” he managed to get out. She should just leave. He wasn’t in the mood to be entertaining or to be entertained. He just wanted to be alone and stare up at the ceiling tiles.

  She pried the foil top off the applesauce and opened the spoon, loading it before bringing it up to his mouth.

  For the love … he could feed himself. At least, he thought he could. Natalie just did it for him. “You work a lot. Almost as much as I do.” Did.

  She smiled shyly. “I don’t mind when my patients are so handsome.”

  Oh brother. He averted his eyes.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear what your friend said about your girlfriend.”

  She had his attention again.

  “I don’t think now is a time to make any big decisions.” She patted his hand. Her skin was soft, and her eyes were full of sympathy. “Give yourself some time to think things through, to stabilize your life before making any big commitments.”

  Natalie had a point. Wearing a neck brace didn’t exactly scream I’ll provide for our future family. He’d been drafted right out of high school—didn’t have a degree or a fallback. Baseball was his ticket, and now it was gone forever. He couldn’t trap Tilly into an engagement now. If he did, he’d always wonder if she said yes because she pittied him. What kind of a marriage would that be? A sorry one, that’s what kind. He didn’t want that, and Tilly definitely deserved better. He’d break up with her before sentencing her to a farce of a love life, even though it would tear his heart out to do it.

  Didn’t matter. Tilly was what was important now.

  Chapter Four

  Tilly

  Four days. Tilly had been in bed for four days. She hunched over in the driver’s seat of her Jeep, grateful for the warm breeze that brushed her skin. Grateful that it didn’t hurt. She was still sore, but things like breezes didn’t send her muscles into spasms of pain anymore. A crushed muscle was no joke. Even loose fabric gave her pause.

  Elise had been a true friend in Tilly’s time of greatest need. She’d come over each day after working on the Redrocks players and their sore muscles, bearing fresh ice packs and compression wraps to help with the swelling. Third-degree bruises were nothing to mess with, and Tilly had a couple of those to manage. She felt the sensitive places as she limped to the bathroom and cowered from the shower spray.

  She was driving herself to the hospital to finally see Brayden. She wasn’t going to moan and groan over her injuries anymore—not when Brayden was still in a neck brace.

  Dustin had said Brayden’s phone was missing, which explained why he hadn’t called or texted. They rarely went longer than a practice game without talking in some form. Their inability to be apart wasn’t codependency—it was an understanding that they were meant to be together. Like they had found a missing piece to themselves, only they didn’t know it was missing until they met. Indeed, Tilly had been secure and confident as a single woman, dating often, kissing attractive men, and spending her time exploring the wilds God painted with reds and gold.

  She had no idea where Brayden’s phone ended up. As soon as he could walk, they’d get him a new one. If they were married, she could just take care of this stuff. If they were married, she could sleep in his bed tonight when he came home. If they were married …

  They’d talked as if being together forever wasn’t a question—even from day one. If any other man had handed her his hoodie on a first date and said he didn’t need it back until fall, she would have scrambled backwards like a crab to get away from him. Or if he’d kissed her on the second date and whispered, “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she would have told him to chill and then blocked his number. She didn’t do fast and furious romances, love at first sight, or hand over her heart. But she’d done all those things with Brayden, because when their lips touched, it was like her heart leapt to the top of Angel’s Landing in a single bound. No climb or biking trail compared to the elation he stirred with his tender ministrations or the thrill of having his fingers trail over her shoulders and down her arms.

  How could she say no to a lifetime of moments with him after that?

  She couldn’t think matrimonial right now. Today was about survival, not planning a future together. They’d get through this one day at a time, and then they’d start talking about the two children with Brayden’s thick brown hair and her green eyes, the weekend backpacking trips they’d take once he retired, and the evenings they’d spend in one another’s arms. They’d talked about it plenty before, about how they were going to move into her house—not his—once they tied the knot, because he said her house felt more like a home that his. It was true. But then, he was out of town so much, his place only had the bare necessities. She was home in the evenings and had decorated with soft textures and bright colors.

  She pulled into the parking lot and hurried through the doors, loading into the elevator with a family sporting pink flowers and smiles and a bag with pink tissue paper poking out the top. She turned away. Those types of dreams would have to wait too.

  The doors opened and she made her way out. There was a woman at the nurses’ station, wi
th shiny black hair, who looked slightly familiar. She wore tight scrubs and a lot of makeup.

  Tilly ran her hand over her dreads. Her hair was clean, but the stitches prevented her from doing anything cute with it. They hung around her, limp and smelling of mint shampoo. She hadn’t done more than swipe on mascara. The bruising on her face was still too dark to cover. Any attempts made her look like a leper about to lose patches of skin. Any time she’d felt like complaining, all she had to do was think of Brayden and all that he had lost, and her personal pity faded to the background.

  The door to Brayden’s room stood open. She shook her head, wondering if the news of Brayden’s accident had hit the local stations yet. If so, they should be better about security.

  Tilly walked in, and stopped dead at the sight of Brayden wearing a neck brace. His large body took up the whole bed, his toes poking over the bottom edge. He was beautiful and broken, and her heart spilled open with anguish and love for this man. Her throat closed off and her eyes leaked. She gasped for a breath, drawing his attention.

  “Tilly, baby. Don’t cry.” He lifted his arm in a strangely stiff move, waving her closer.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and groped for his hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She kissed his hand, her tears tasting salty. “I wish I could hug you.”

  “Hey. Hey.” He hooked his finger under her chin and lifter her face until their eyes met.

  She fell into those eyes, like she had no control over her body or her mind when he looked at her that way. She didn’t even care, hadn’t once cared that he could grab control of her in such a way, because she’d trusted him with her heart and soul. The connection they shared wasn’t the kind of crush she’d had on other men, or a passing attraction. It was the real deal, and she was powerless to fight it. Not that she would.

  “Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “My lips work fine.”