by Jaci Burton
“Brutal,” David said, downing his third shot of tequila. “I had a fifty-six-year-old with epigastric spasms and Chen looking over my shoulder the entire time. I nearly broke out in a sweat. I had the diagnosis and treatment plan right. I mean, I’m a third-year resident, not a goddamn intern. I don’t need him to hold my hand.”
David was a brilliant resident who knew what he was doing. He was the golden god of the emergency room—graduated at the top of his class and would no doubt go on to do great things. Hearing him bitch about Chen gave Aubry some comfort. At least she knew Chen wasn’t singling her out.
Katie scooped up spinach dip with her chip, slid it into her mouth and swallowed, then nodded. “He did the same thing to me. I had a myocardial infarction with COPD complications and Chen stood in the room staring me down as I called for the treatment plan like it was my first day. I’m telling you, the man is downright unnerving.”
“He does it on purpose, you know,” Rick said.
Rick was another one of the residents. Aubry looked over at him. “Do you think so?”
“Sure. He figures if he can’t rattle you during a crisis, then you can handle your shit. If he flusters you, then you need work.”
Katie waved a chip at Rick. “You might be right about that. So we should just start ignoring him.”
Aubry laughed and took a sip of her cocktail. “Ignore him. Right. Good luck with that.”
“Does he quiz you when you’re working with a patient?” David asked them.
“Oh, my God,” Katie said. “All the time.” She settled into her best impression of Dr. Chen, because Katie did him best. She sat up straight in her chair and put on a sour face. “ ‘Dr. Murphy, what is the proper treatment plan for a patient presenting with acute diverticulitis?’ Keep in mind, all the while I’ve got the patient screaming in pain in the bed and I’m supposed to answer questions?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Like I didn’t learn that during medical school? I mean come on. Ask me some hard questions.”
“He just wants us to be the best, you know.”
Katie pinned Aubry with a look. “Oh, come on. He’s a pain in the ass and I don’t think he’s busy enough. We were swamped in the ER tonight. Two car accidents with multiple injuries, two heart attacks, three fractures, multiple sutures and several gastric cases.”
“And a partridge in a pear tree,” David added.
“Exactly,” Katie said. “One would have thought he might have directed his attention to patient care instead of poking first-year questions at us like his residents were a bunch of imbeciles.”
Rick took a sip of his beer and nodded. “I’m with Katie on this. We could have used a hand, not a pop quiz.”
Aubry sighed. “Maybe you’re all right about that.” She rolled her head, trying to ease the tension in her neck. “Either way, we got through another night.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Katie said, and signaled their waitress for another round. As she did, she looked up at the bar and turned to Aubry. “Hey, Aubry, your hot baseball guy is on TV tonight.”
Aubry twisted in her chair to check out the television. “He’s not pitching. The camera just panned to him watching the game. Walter Segundo is up tonight.”
“What hot guy is that?” David asked.
“Aubry’s dating one of the players on the Rivers,” Katie said.
Aubry pinned Katie with a look before redirecting. “I’m not exactly dating him.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Katie scooped up the last of the spinach dip. “Aubry’s having sex with one of the Rivers’ players.”
“That clarifies things so nicely. Thank you so much, Katie.” Aubry shot her friend a scathing look.
Katie just grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“Which player?” Rick asked.
She hadn’t wanted anyone to know. But now they did, so she supposed there was no point in trying to hide anything. “Tucker Cassidy.”
Rick nodded. “Good pitcher. He was a great acquisition for the Rivers.”
She knew all about his acquisition, but she never told people about her father, and very few people made the connection. Katie knew, but that was about it. “Was he?”
“Yeah.” Rick went into a deep explanation of Tucker’s earned run average and his curveball while they watched the game.
“So,” David said. “Tucker Cassidy, huh? Never figured you were the type to date a baseball player.”
Aubry leaned back in her chair, so not happy to be the topic of conversation. “I never figured you were the type to date a stripper.”
David flashed a glare at Rick.
Rick raised his hand. “Don’t look at me, man. I didn’t tell her.”
David shrugged. “She’s a nice girl. Working her way through college by dancing. And I burn off steam sometimes by going to strip clubs.”
“So is it serious?” Aubry asked.
David shook his head. “Nah. She’s busy with school and I’m busy with work. We’re just having some fun together.”
“Honey, we never judge,” Katie said. “I would totally date a stripper. Of the male variety, just to be clear. And I won’t keep it a secret should that ever happen. Not that anyone can keep a secret around the hospital. It’s like gossip central, especially at the main station.”
Aubry took a look swallow of her drink. “Speaking of gossip—Rick—word’s out about you and Felicia.”
Rick gave them all a blank stare. “What about me and Felicia?”
“You’re dating Felicia?” David asked. “How come I didn’t know that?”
“Probably because you spend all your time practicing medicine instead of listening to the gossip at the main station,” Aubry said.
David nodded. “That must be.” He turned to Rick. “Felicia, huh?”
Rick shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s kind of touchy since she’s one of the nurses on shift. We’ll see how it goes.”
Aubry laid her hand on his arm. “She’s amazing. Sharp, funny, gorgeous.”
Rick’s lips curved as he took a drink of his beer. “Yeah, I know.”
“Our friend might be falling in love,” Katie said with a shake of her head.
“Hey now,” Rick said. “No one said anything about love. We’re just dating.”
Katie offered up a smug smile. “And now we have confirmation.”
Aubry laughed, glad the topic of conversation had turned to someone other than her. It gave her time to glance up at the television, hoping for another glimpse of Tucker.
The Rivers were still at home and were ahead by two runs. As Aubry took another glance at the TV, they panned over to the dugout again, and this time she caught sight of Tucker leaning against the rail, eating sunflower seeds while talking to his teammates, and looking sexier than any man had a right to.
Her sex clenched as she recalled all the different ways he’d touched her last night, and all the times she’d come. Tucker was very . . . thorough.
She picked up her phone and looked at the time. “I . . . have to go.”
“Got a hot date with the hot pitcher?” Katie asked.
She didn’t even bother to deny it. “Maybe.”
“Can you get me game tickets?” Rick asked.
She stood and grabbed her bag, then looked down at him. “Why? Are you thinking of taking Felicia to a game?”
He smiled up at her. “Maybe.”
“Then I’ll see what I can do.”
She left the bar and headed down to the ballpark, purposely avoiding the owner’s suite. She didn’t want to have to explain to her father what she was doing there twice in one week. It was already the top of the eighth inning anyway, so it wasn’t like she’d be staying long. With an all-access pass, she could pretty much sit anywhere there was an available seat.
She chose one along the third baseline above the visitor’s dugout. It was a cool night since it had rained earlier in the day. Glad she had brought her pullover jacket, she snuggled into it to watch the last t
wo innings. And she also had a great view of the Rivers’ dugout from here, so she could see all the players.
And Tucker.
Not that she’d come just to ogle one hot man. She’d come because the game had looked really good, and since she could get into the ballpark for free, why not, right?
That was her rationalization and she was sticking with it.
Cincinnati was still down by two runs, but the meaty part of their order was up to bat in this inning. Segundo was still pitching and continued to look strong. He struck out the first batter, the second lined out to the shortstop, and he had the third in the hole with one ball and two strikes.
Until the batter hit a fastball between second and third for a base hit.
Well, crap. She bought a soda and settled in to see if Segundo would be able to pitch himself out. He walked the next batter, probably intentionally, though he didn’t make it look that way, but she knew enough about pitching to know an intentional walk, even if he did try to make it look unintentional. The next batter up hit several foul balls and Segundo finally worked him to two balls, two strikes when Segundo took a long breather, shook off several of Sanchez’s signals and wound up. He threw the ball and the batter swung.
And missed.
The crowd stood and cheered. Aubry did, too. The pitcher had dodged a bullet, but he’d looked remarkably calm doing it.
The Rivers were up to bat in the bottom half of the inning. Sanchez was up first.
Sanchez singled just past first base, Fielding hit it right to the third baseman, so he was out. They pulled up a pinch hitter to hit for the pitcher, so it looked like Segundo’s night was over. The pinch hitter, Lopez, took a ball and a strike to start things off. Then Lopez knocked out a single into left field, which moved Sanchez to third base and Lopez to first.
Now it was getting interesting. Aubry leaned onto the edge of her seat, her heart pumping.
With one out, the top of the batting order came up. Gavin Riley was up and hit a long fly sacrifice to deep center field, which scored Sanchez but left them with two outs and Lopez still at first base. They ended up stranding him when the next batter grounded out, but they’d scored another run going into the top of the ninth.
Their ace closer came in and walked one batter, struck out two and the final batter hit a pop fly that was easily caught by Trevor Shay to end the game.
Aubry stood and smiled. Even though she’d only been there for two innings, they’d been an exciting two innings. With medical school and her internship and residency, she hadn’t taken a lot of time for baseball in the past few years. Plus, her parents had always dragged her to games, and she’d had to admit she’d grown to resent it—and the game.
Now, though? She remembered why she enjoyed baseball.
She sent a text message to Tucker. I’m at the stadium. Would you like to meet up?
It didn’t take him long to reply. Yeah. Invited to a party. Wanna come with me?
Did she? She had planned on just having him over to her place for some alone time. A party was something entirely different. It was like . . . dating. And they were most assuredly not dating.
She thought about it a minute, then shrugged and sent him a return text.
Sure. Should I meet you somewhere?
He texted her back. I’ll pick you up in about an hour.
Since she figured she’d have plenty of time because of media interviews and postgame meetings, she dashed home to take a shower and change clothes. She’d headed to the bar right after her shift at the hospital ended and she needed to freshen up. After drying her hair and putting on makeup, she chose a pair of black jeans, heels and a silk top, layering a few of her favorite silver chains over the top. She laid out her leather jacket near her purse, then perused herself in the mirror.
She shook her head. Typically, at the end of a particularly grueling work shift, she’d be home in yoga pants and a tank top, a bowl of popcorn on the side table in the living room and a book in her lap.
The woman looking back at her in the mirror? So not her.
What was she doing, anyway? What was she doing with Tucker? This was so unlike her. Her career was everything to her, and for the past several years it had been the only thing.
Sure, sex with Tucker was great and all, but sex had never been a priority for her. When it came around, great. If it was lacking, she could survive without it. And she’d never been the type of woman who saw herself as incomplete without a man in her life, so it wasn’t like being with Tucker—being with any man—was something she desperately needed.
So what was the allure? Was it loneliness, a piece of her life she hadn’t consciously realized she’d been missing? Or was it Tucker?
Her doorbell rang, so her soul-searching questions remained unanswered for now.
Tucker was there, wearing a black button-down shirt and dark jeans, and looked just damned edible, as always.
“You look hot,” he said, stepping inside and pulling her toward him to brush his lips against hers.
“Thanks. So do you.” She grabbed her jacket and her purse, then turned to face him. “I’m ready to go.”
“Great.” He led her out the door and to his car, opening her side and waiting for her to get in before heading over to his side.
Once they were on the way, she looked over at him. “So tell me about this party.”
“It’s for Liz Riley’s birthday. She’s married to Gavin Riley.”
“I know Liz very well since she works a lot with the team as a sports agent.”
“Right. Sure you do. Anyway, we’re all meeting at Gavin and Liz’s house. Not a big thing, just a few people from the team. Wives, girlfriends, some friends.”
If she’d known about this, she might not have come. Anyone connected to her father—like Liz—like the team—could tell her father about her seeing Tucker. She wasn’t sure she was ready for her dad to know she was dating one of the players.
Which she most certainly wasn’t.
Or she supposed she was, since going to a party with him could definitely be considered a date.
“You’re chewing your lip.”
She looked over at Tucker. “Excuse me?”
He pointed to her face as he drove. “You’re chewing your bottom lip. Like you’re worried or thinking or something.”
She licked her lip. “I’m fine.”
“Did you have a bad day at work?”
She shrugged. “My day was fine. Normal for me.”
He pulled onto the highway, merged over into the fast lane. After a mile or so, he asked, “Then what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Something is, because I’ve seen you do that thing with your lip before.”
She looked at him. “Really. And you know me so well that you think it’s because something’s bothering me.”
“Yes.”
He was so confident. Then again, he was also right, which kind of irritated her. She decided not to answer him and looked out the window. Trees were in bloom, color had started to burst into her city. Spring had definitely sprung in St. Louis, which brightened her mood immensely despite all the rain they’d had lately.
Besides, rain was a good thing. It renewed everything.
“So are you gonna tell me or not?”
She shifted her attention back to Tucker. “Tell you what?”
“What’s bugging you?”
She finally sighed. “The party.”
He took a quick glance her way. “Liz’s party?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want to go.”
“I didn’t say that, it’s just—people there know me.”
“Okay. And that’s a problem.”
“Maybe.”
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, and she could tell that she’d upset him, which hadn’t been her intent.
“It’s because you don’t want anyone you know to know that we’re seeing each other, especially anyone in baseball
or connected to baseball who knows your dad.”
When he said the words out loud, it sounded petty and ridiculous. What difference did it make if she was dating one of the players? There was nothing in their contracts that prohibited it, and certainly nothing about it that would get her father riled up. He’d likely not care at all. He’d probably never know. It wasn’t like anyone other than Liz routinely spoke to her dad. She was worrying for nothing.
She was just going to go and mingle with people she knew and have fun and quit worrying about it.
“Actually, everything’s fine. I’m not concerned at all.”
He looked like he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you sure?”
She gave him her most sincere smile. “Absolutely.”
He exited the highway and pulled onto a street with enormous trees. It was dark and a little foreboding, and the house was huge.
When they pulled to the end of the long, dark driveway she noticed a lot of cars. Like, a lot of cars.
“Okay, then,” he said, putting his car into park before turning to her and laying his hand on her thigh. “Let’s go party our asses off, Aubry.”
LIZ ANSWERED THE DOOR LOOKING LIKE A KNOCKOUT, as always. In her mid-thirties, was Aubry’s guess, and she looked late twenties at most. Her stunning red hair was cut in a short bob, the silken ends sweeping along her chin. And, despite a busy career as a sports agent, being married to Gavin Riley, the team’s first baseman, and dealing with the couple’s two-year-old daughter, Genevieve, she’d never known a woman more put together, on top of . . .
Everything.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Tucker,” Liz said, her eyes widening as she turned from him to Aubry.
“Aubry.” Liz enveloped her in a tight hug. “I didn’t expect to see you. And you’re with Tucker?”
“Yes.”
“You have to come with me. We have some catching up to do. Tucker, go grab a beer with the guys. They’re downstairs.”