Intentional Walk: Dating Mr. Baseball Book 3 Read online

  “You do that.” Brayden stared out the window.

  “You could come.” There was too much hope in dad’s voice. A forced calm that meant Dad had a plan.

  “No. I can’t, Dad. We broke up.”

  “You can get back together.”

  “She deserves better.”

  Dad shook his head. “I don’t appreciate you talking about my son that way.”

  Brayden rubbed his head again. “I have nothing to offer her. My skills, the way my mind and body worked together, everything I was, I wanted to give to her. That’s all toast. How can I go to her with empty hands?”

  Dad pondered that for a moment. His ability to think things through rather than shoot off at the mouth had not transferred to Brayden. Finally, he said, “Tilly lost her job too, the one she loved. She seems to be getting on all right in her new position.”

  “Yeah, the kids love her tours, and I’ve seen her chatting it up with the front office staff. She knew a few of them before the accident, so it wasn’t hard for her to slide in and make friends.”

  “She’s figuring things out.”

  “I guess.”

  “You need to figure things out. Are you going to be a coach?”

  Was he? The opportunity had fallen into his lap, and he hadn’t given it much thought beyond knowing he needed to do something. Even if he did want to be a coach, there was one big pain in the butt in his way. “I really don’t like Gunner.”

  Dad laughed. “You don’t have to like him to coach him.”

  Brayden nodded. He’d had coaches that he wasn’t close to, but they were professional. He could at least be that. All he’d done so far was show up and drop a couple tips on the guy, corrected what he saw was wrong. He thought back to some of the early drills he’d learned. The things that taught him to rotate his hand when he pitched. He could walk Gunner through them. If the guy would listen to him for five minutes. Maybe if he worked on his tone.

  If he could get Gunner to throw a decent cutter … That would be something.

  They pulled into his garage and the door rolled down, casting them in shadow.

  “So do you want to go to lunch with us?” Dad asked, his hand on the door handle.

  Brayden shook his head. “I’ve hurt her too badly. I broke us.”

  Dad shoved the door open. “Then fix you.” He climbed out of the car and headed into the house.

  Brayden sat there for a moment, Dad’s words echoing around him. He did need to fix him. He just wasn’t sure how to right the wrong that had happened to him, or the ones he’d caused because of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tilly

  Tilly stared at the light coming through her bedroom window with no idea what to do with herself for the day. If she and Brayden were still together …

  Stop! She couldn’t think like that. They weren’t together, and after the way he’d acted yesterday, like they were buddies who had happened to be in love at one point in their lives, it was unlikely that they’d ever get back together.

  Did she want to get back together with him? She shoved a pillow over her face and screamed. Curses and swear words!

  She would take him back in a heartbeat. He was her best friend. Still. No one knew the things she’d confided in him. He knew more about her than her family or Clover or Elise or anyone. Sharing memories with him, even hard ones like how she’d been adrift after her grandmother passed away or about the time she’d gone to summer camp and forgot to pack bras and ended up wearing the same one for 28 days straight. He knew it all, and he’d loved her.

  At least, she thought he had. How could she have been fooled so easily?

  She threw the pillow onto the floor. Her room was a mess. The bags the hospital had sent her home with were thrown in a corner. The top sheet was kicked into a knot under her comforter, and she had piles of dirty clothes to sort and wash. None of that sounded like it would help her forget Brayden, because he was also all over her room. The ticket stubs from their first concert together were tucked into her mirror. A picture of them in Zion National Park sat in the frame on her dresser. His Redrock T-shirts she’d borrowed with no intention of returning were scattered here and there. The blanket they used to lay on the golf course and watch the stars was draped over a chair.

  What she needed was time in the sun. The doctor hadn’t cleared her for outside-the-gym activities. Her chances at reinjury were big, especially if she fell on her hip. The muscle there—or where the muscle had been before it was crushed—was still swollen and tender. But she’d been able to walk for hours a day in the stadium, go up and down the stairs with mild discomfort. Of all the types of exercise and activity she could participate in, a bike ride had the lowest impact.

  Once the idea struck, she couldn’t get out of bed fast enough. Her padded cycling shorts were deep in the closet. Before the accident, she could ride from one end of Snow Canyon to the other, no problem. The route would be a decent test of her strength. And if she got tired, no one would have to wait on her. She could walk for a bit, soak up the smell of sand—yes, sand had a scent—and put Brayden out of her heart. Well, maybe out of her head for a couple hours, at least.

  Once dressed, slathered in sunscreen, and equipped with a CamelBak full of water, she hopped on her bike and took off. The sun was up and shining. The weather app on her phone said the high was going to be 90—a mild day for August in St. George and a blessing she’d happily take.

  She’d acclimated to the heat a long time ago. The climbing crew couldn’t take a day off because it was a hundred degrees outside. They took precautions and shortened climbs, but she’d spent many an hour in an oven.

  Actually, she loved it. Growing up, she’d been the kid who didn’t like to build snowmen. When the first snow hit the Salt Lake Valley, she took it personally. Maybe that’s why her parents hadn’t put up a fuss when she’d told them she was staying in St. George after graduation.

  Her mom was so great. She called to check in with her folks using the Bluetooth in her helmet to talk while she peddled. Dad was doing better and had lost a few pounds. Mom had changed their diet and said she had more energy too. They asked after her health and avoided the topic of Brayden. She hung up feeling like she could face the world.

  Not Brayden. If she lived the whole rest of her life without having to see him, hear him, or smell him, she might be able to get over this heartache. Therefore, her chances were slim to none that she would ever move on, but hey, that was her life now. Today was about acceptance of the situation and pushing herself to see what she could handle on a bike.

  She decided to take the west canyon trail. It was basically a hard-packed road with enough room for two vehicles. Horse riders shared the route, but she could easily dodge anything they left behind. The Navajo sandstone varied from white to red, and the incline was gradual.

  She stopped at the trailhead, eyeing the challenge before her, letting the opportunities of an open trail spark interest in her emotionally befuddled brain. The sun was up high enough to require sunglasses, and she slid hers on, thankful she’d thought to tuck them into her shirt before she left. A quick assessment told her that her hip was holding up fine, and her body giggled with excitement.

  Taking a deep breath of crisp air, she started off. The first part of the trail was easy. The more dirt she crunched under her tires, the more she started to feel like herself. She passed the bathrooms and knew she’d already gone 1.3 miles. Sweet. She felt strong. Good.

  The sun beat down on her bare arms and shoulders. Sweat formed under her helmet, and her chin strap rubbed her skin. She pressed on.

  Round and round her legs sailed, moving her forward. She dropped her gaze to the road in front of her, watching the pebbles disappear beneath the front tire. Her body shook as she bounced over a row of ruts from a rain she didn’t remember. If she hadn’t been so focused on what was right below her tires, she might have seen the snake long before she almost ran over it.

  Screaming, she swerved to the
right. Her tires slid on the loose dirt. She squeezed the brakes and was thrown over the handlebars, landing in a sagebrush. The skin on her arms and shoulders burned from scratches. “Ouch!” she yelled to no one.

  The snake slithered off the other side of the road, not at all grateful for the sacrifice she’d made to save its life. Stupid garden snake.

  She lay there for a minute, taking inventory. Her left leg hurt something fierce, and when she dared to look at it, there was a huge bump the size of a baseball on her shin. And just like that, her heart flooded with Brayden and she cried out.

  Struggling with the weight of the bike on top of her legs, she managed to get out of the bush without putting weight on her left leg. She got a few more scrapes in the process. The small first-aid kit in her CamelBak wasn’t enough to patch her up. She popped two Advil and downed it with a long drink of water. She looked up and down the trail and didn’t see a soul. Not a surprise on a Tuesday morning.

  She probed her leg and ankle. The ankle was protected by the brace she continued to wear. She’d have to thank Elise for being a stickler about that. The shin was another matter entirely. The large bump was red and angry. So was she. There was lots of fluid rushing to the area, so she loosened her shoelaces.

  She did her best to stand and managed to get the bike off the ground too. But there was no way she’d be able to pedal, not with her shin tight and throbbing. Elise would kill her for not icing it right away. Too bad her friend was out of town with the team today, which meant Dustin and Blake were gone too. Tilly tried Clover, hoping she could pick her up at the bottom of the trail. Maybe she could sit on the seat and use her one leg to scoot. She tried it out and it worked okay since there was a slight downhill slope. However, to make it work, she had to hold her injured foot out to the side, and her hip ached.

  Clover didn’t answer. Shoot. She tipped her chin up, considering the edge of the mountain to her right. Who else could she ask? Brayden. Oh no. There was no way she was going to call him. She’d crawl home first. In desperation, she dialed her old boss.

  Zeke picked up on the second ring. She could have kissed him. “Hey, Tilly. You ready to come back to work?”

  She half laughed, half sobbed. “I tweaked my leg on a trail. Any chance you could come pick up me and my bike?”

  “Sorry. I’m on the bus headed up Zion with a group.” Someone asked him a question, and he answered. He was in the middle of a tour; he needed to focus.

  “Don’t worry about it. Thanks, though.” She said goodbye and hung up the phone. Then she hung her head. “I will not call him.” Brayden was the only other person in town who would come get her. Probably come get her. She folded her forearms across the handlebars and laid her head on her arms. “Not him. Dear Father in Heaven, please not him.”

  Her plan was to rid herself of Brayden, get him out of her life for a day so she could build up some immunity to his deep and brooding brown eyes and the way even a simple look felt like a caress. Heaven help her—please, heaven!

  Like a whisper of a breeze, she remembered that Maverik was in town. He was the next best thing to her dad, and he would rescue her. She dialed his number, and he picked up after only one ring.

  “How’s my baby girl?”

  Why did she cry so easily? She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. She hadn’t cried when she’d fallen into the bush—thank you, snake. But Maverik’s warm timbre opened the floodgates. “Not so good, Mav. I, uh …” She cleared her throat in an effort to open it up. “I fell on the trail and got banged up. Can you come get me?”

  “I’m walking out the door now.” Keys jangled in the background.

  “Take my Jeep. It’s got a bike rack on the back.” She gave him the code to her garage and told him where he could find the keys.

  “Is there anyone nearby who can help you down the trail?”

  “I’m coasting. Which about sums up my life lately.” She pressed her lips together. She didn’t need to complain to Maverik. Not about his son. He was as loyal a father as they came. Like her own dad. Who, by the way, had offered to come down and teach Brayden a lesson about how to treat a woman. She’d appreciated the sentiment, but even with a neck injury, Brayden was bigger and stronger. Although, knowing Brayden, he’d take a dressing down from her father and say, “Yes, sir.” He’d always treated her parents with the utmost respect. Just one more reason she’d thought he was the one.

  Maverik asked her to stay on the phone while he drove so he didn’t get lost, but she suspected it was because he was worried about her.

  “Are you … alone?” she asked hesitantly. If Brayden had come with him, she wanted some warning and a chance to clean her face.

  “I dropped Brayden off at the gym an hour ago. He’ll be gone for a while.”

  “Bless you.” She breathed out, unaware that she’d been holding her breath.

  A couple of riders on horseback came up through the brush. They’d been off-trail. She moved over to make room for them to pass.

  “You okay?” asked the handsome man in a straw hat. He had on a T-shirt, jeans, and a buckle. His companion was dressed similarly.

  “Yeah.” She looked forward. “I’m fine.”

  He tipped his hat and nudged his horse to pick up the pace. His buddy did the same thing with his hat. Tilly let out a sigh. Maybe there were gentlemen left in the world.

  “How far up are you?” The Jeep door slammed in the background.

  “I just passed the bathrooms, and that’s 1.3 miles.”

  “It’s so awesome that you know that.”

  One side of her mouth twitched up. “There’s a sign.”

  He chuckled. “Well, if there wasn’t, I’m sure you’d know it anyway.”

  They were quiet for a while as he walked and she coasted. Thankfully, Maverik was levelheaded and hadn’t insisted on calling the paramedics or anything. She wasn’t that bad off. A day of ice and rest and she should be able to hobble around. Which was perfect, since the team was gone for another two days.

  Maverik walked around the bend, and the dam burst. Tilly pushed with her toes, trying to get to him faster. He heard her crying and broke into a jog. She fell into his fatherly arms and let go of her need to hold it together. He seemed to sense that there was more to her outburst than just the fall and let her make a complete mess of the front of his shirt. When she was spent, he wiped her cheeks with his hands. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

  “It’s not your fault. You’re the best.”

  He smiled fondly at her. “Sometimes I want to shake that son of mine.”

  “I won’t stand in your way.” She laughed and swiped the moisture out from under her eyes. “Oh, man. I keep thinking a massive crying session is going to make it better, but it doesn’t.”

  He lifted her arm, checking her injuries. “I’m not excusing Brayden in the least …”

  “But …?” she added.

  Maverik’s cheeks lined with worry. “But it’s awfully hard to love someone when you don’t love yourself. He’s lost, baby girl.” He released her arm gently, his chin touching his chest. “I can’t help but feel like I messed up somewhere. When did I teach him that his best quality was throwing a baseball?”

  “Mav.” She put her hand on his back. “You are an excellent father. He’s just being an idiot. I’ve heard it’s part of the human experience.”

  Maverik nodded slowly. “I was an idiot once.”

  “Just once?” she joked, hoping to lighten the mood. She hated seeing this big, strong, loving man think any of this was his fault.

  He chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  She settled back on the seat and started coasting again.

  He walked beside her. “Any chance I could get you to go to dinner?”

  “Of course. Anytime.”

  “Should we ask Brayden?”

  “No.” She winked.

  “I’m sure if you asked, he’d come.”

  “I’m glad one of us knows that. Because
I don’t.”

  “He’s still in love with you.”

  “He has a funny way of showing it.” Tension gathered between her shoulder blades. This conversation was going downhill—fast.

  Maverik let out a heavy sigh. “I miss you, baby girl. You two being apart is like having the Earth spin the other direction—it goes against natural laws. If my kid can’t pull his head out of the sand, will you come to Arizona and visit me?”

  She briefly closed her eyes. “I may have to do that just to survive.” Arizona was a whole plane ride. And she wasn’t even sure that much distance would be far enough to cure her aching heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brayden

  What was it with men and their daughters—or almost daughters? He’d gotten an earful from his dad on Monday afternoon after the gym for breaking Tilly’s heart. He’d tried to explain that it was best for her, but Dad wouldn’t listen. He kept telling him to stop being an idiot, and then he stormed over to Tilly’s and didn’t come back for hours.

  It was around seven when he finally told Brayden about Tilly’s bike crash in the canyon. Brayden had run to his front door and ripped it open, intent on seeing with his own eyes that she was okay.

  “She’s asleep, and if you wake her up I’ll have your hide,” Dad called from the kitchen, where he was filling a glass with filtered water and ice.

  Brayden slammed the door in response. He shouldn’t go over there anyway. He needed to stay away from her.

  “The fact that you chased out there tells me all I needed to know.” Dad took a long drink from his glass, his eyes never leaving Brayden. A challenge issued with a look.

  Brayden worked to control his breathing. Yeah, he still wanted Tilly. How could he not? She was the best of everything in this world. He thought about her all day long. He relived their best moments. He clung to the hoodie that held her scent. And because he still loved her, he would protect her—even from himself.