by Aubrey Gross
His stomach was still in knots, so he pushed his plate and beer away, knowing there was no way he could consume either right now.
“You gonna be okay?” Jo asked.
“I’ll be fine, counselor.” She stiffened beside him, and he realized his words had come out tersely. “I need to go, though, get over to Mom and Dad’s.”
Jo nodded and he unlaced their fingers, missing her warmth as soon as he stood. She looked up at him, worry in her blue green eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to grab her hand, pull her away from that booth and take her home so that he could bury himself inside of her and make this nightmare go away.
Instead, he tossed a twenty on the table and bid everyone goodbye.
~~*~~
Chapter Eight
“What do you mean, you want to come home and stay with me?” Chase asked as he paced the length of his brother’s hospital room.
Matt sat in the hospital bed, looking ridiculous with half of his head shaved and the other, well, not shaved. The MRIs and CT scans had shown a skull fracture and internal bleeding from his brain, prompting emergency surgery to relieve the pressure. Thus the half-shaved head.
Now that the danger was past them and it looked like Matt was going to make a full recovery, Chase couldn’t help but laugh every time he saw his brother’s new hairdo. Chase wasn’t laughing right now, though.
“I’m on the DL for an infinite amount of time, Chase, and the doctors have banned me from the ballpark. No bright lights, repetitive motions, loud noises for at least a few weeks. Mom’s worried sick, and Dad’s trying not to act like he is. And to be honest, the thought of going back to my condo by myself right now isn’t very appealing. Figure I might as well come home for a while. That’s what most guys do when they’re put on the DL for an undetermined but way too long time, why would I be any different?”
There were so many reasons why he figured Matt would have been different. Instead of saying that, Chase sighed instead. “So your answer is to just move in with me?”
“Not for long, Chase. Just long enough to set Mom’s mind at ease, and to get back to normal.”
Chase stopped pacing and rested his hands on the rail at the foot of the hospital bed. “Matt, you know as well as I do that getting back to normal might take longer than you want it to. You took a line drive to the head less than two weeks ago. They clocked that thing at a hundred and ten miles per hour.”
Matt shrugged. “I’ll be fine in a few weeks, Chase.”
Chase sighed, realizing that arguing was futile. Resigned, he asked, “What time do you get discharged today?”
Matt grinned, and Chase closed his eyes, wondering what the hell he was getting himself in to.
The great thing about being one of the highest paid players in the majors, Chase discovered later that day, was the ability to charter private flights at the drop of a hat, which had come in handy since their pilot out at the ranch was currently on vacation. As they descended into Del Rio, Chase once again mentally kicked himself for giving in to his brother so easily.
He liked his privacy, needed it, really, and was worried that his brother’s presence would turn his usually quiet, peaceful home into a swinging bachelor pad full of noise and round the clock parties.
“No groupies or parties, Matt,” he said as the plane bumped onto the tarmac.
Matt turned to Chase. “No loud noises, alcohol or repetitive motions, Chase. I think that pretty much nixes groupies and parties.”
“You’d be the one to find a way to get around that.”
Matt laughed, and the plane taxied to a gentle stop. Moments later, the door was opened and stairs were lowered, and they were met by an airport employee driving a golf cart. Chase tossed his wheeled carry-on bag onto the attached luggage trailer, and then grabbed Matt’s suitcase and tossed it next to his bag. They climbed into the golf cart and the driver took off.
Less than thirty minutes later, they were in Chase’s truck and heading towards his house. “Do you want to stop and see Mom and Dad on the way, or hold off?”
Matt stared out the passenger side window as they drove north on Veteran’s Boulevard. “Can we hold off on it?”
As they left the heart of Del Rio, Chase wondered at his brother. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Matt was just off. Granted, having a near-death experience would probably make anybody a little off.
They made the rest of the drive to his house in silence, Chase not knowing what to say and Matt seeming unwilling to say anything. Chase pulled into the garage, and the brothers got out, retrieved their luggage and walked into the house without saying a word.
Winchester’s muffled bark of greeting finally broke the silence as Chase closed the door behind them. The big Great Pyrenees ambled over, sniffing at legs and hands and crotches, his body wiggling in ecstasy as Chase gave him a brief rub down.
Chase squatted in front of his dog and asked, “Owen didn’t give you too many treats, did he, Big Guy?”
Winchester licked Chase’s chin in response, before changing the focus of his attention and nudging Matt’s hand with his nose, his way of saying, “Pet me now, human.” Chase stood.
Matt complied, scratching him between the ears. “Hey there, Win. Glad to see you still remember me.”
“I’m not sure if he remembers you or if he’s just being an attention whore,” Chase said as he wheeled his carry-on into the living room.
Behind him, Matt wheeled his own suitcase. “I hear Jo’s back in town.”
Chase stopped, one foot on the bottom stair leading up to the second floor and his bedroom, and wondered where the hell that statement had come from. “Yeah. Has been for about a month.”
He started back up the stairs.
Matt was right behind him.
“You seen her at all?”
Chase continued up the stairs. “A couple of times.”
“And..?”
“And what?” Chase reached the top of the stairs and turned towards his bedroom. “Take either of the guest rooms, your choice,” he said, hoping to escape without more of his brother’s weird, sudden prying.
Matt turned in the opposite direction and headed towards one of the spare rooms. “You’ve loved her since she was in pigtails, Chase, and then she broke your heart. Was just wondering how being around her again was going, that’s all.”
Chase wasn’t sure which part of Matt’s statement shocked him more—the fact that Matt knew he’d loved Jo, the fact that he knew Jo had broken his heart, or his sudden interest in having a heart to heart. “Man, that ball really did fuck you up.”
Matt shook his head, opened the door of his chosen room and rolled his suitcase in. “We don’t get many chances at happiness, little brother.”
“Okay, Yoda.”
Matt turned around, his hazel eyes shuttered. But they were brothers, and even though they’d had a bit of a strained, competitive relationship their entire lives, they knew each other, in a way that only brothers could.
“I know I haven’t always been the best brother, or hell, even the best son to Mom and Dad, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.” He raked a hand through his hair. The unshaven side. Looked away, at something to the side. “Baseball is all I have, Chase. But you’ve always had…more, always wanted more.”
“You could have more than baseball, Matt. You’ve just chosen to live life between the seams.”
Matt swung his gaze back around, making eye contact and not letting go. “You have been, too. Your seams might be bigger than mine, maybe a little different, but you have, too. You may not play anymore, but you’re still a pitcher. You’ll always be a pitcher. And we’re control freaks. We don’t like losing control, because when we do shit happens.”
“It’s been a long day, Matt. I’m going to bed.” Chase turned and opened his bedroom door, refusing to let Matt see that h
is words had bothered him at all.
Between the seams. Ha! What did Matt think he was? Some sort of baseball philosopher all of a sudden? Augie Garrido—the Longhorns’ head coach who was known for his deep thoughts on baseball and life— he was not.
Chase left his carry-on at the foot of the bed before walking over to his dresser and turning on his iPod. He hit shuffle and Aaron Watson’s “3rd Gear and 17” filtered through the surround sound speakers. At the sound of the tune about high school sweethearts going their separate ways and his dreams of playing pro ball coming to an end, Chase shook his head.
When the hell had his life turned into a fucking country song?
He’d just finished unpacking when the phone in his pocket vibrated.
Mom.
“Hey Mama.”
“Did y’all make it home okay?”
Chase grinned. “Nice to hear from you, too.”
Sarah huffed on the other end of the line. “Don’t you give me a hard time, Chase Roberts. I just wanted to make sure y’all got home okay.”
“Yeah, we did. About fifteen minutes ago.”
Sarah paused on the other end of the line, and Chase sighed. “He’s doing okay, Mom. No dizziness or anything like that.”
Sarah’s sigh of relief was so loud Chase almost thought she was beside him for a moment, rather than on the other side of town. “Good. Now how are you doing?”
Chase ran a hand over his face and sat down on the edge of his bed. “I’m fine. Tired. Missing my privacy already.”
Sarah scoffed at that. “You’ll live. Now, when were you going to tell me that Jo’s back in town?”
“I, uh, didn’t really realize it was all that important, Mom.” Were there no secrets in this freaking town?
“Oh, honey, of course it is. That girl got the wrong end of a bad deal with the way her parents acted, not to mention she broke my baby boy’s heart.”
Chase sighed. Had his feelings been that transparent? “Mom, I really don’t know why everyone thinks she broke my heart.”
“Because she did. It was plain as daylight, Chase, how much you loved that girl.”
“Mom, I was fifteen. Does anyone really know what love is at that age?”
Sarah’s tone gentled. “Oh, honey, of course they do. It may be different at fifteen than it is at twenty-five or thirty or sixty, but love is love.”
Chase ran his fingers through his hair and bit back a sigh. “Fair enough. Yes, Jo’s back in town. Yes, we’ve seen each other. No, there’s nothing going on.”
Well, okay, maybe that last part wasn’t completely true. But his mom didn’t need to know every little detail about his love life.
Or lack thereof.
Frustrating lack thereof.
“That’s not what Dorothy Johnson told me.”
“Dorothy Johnson?” She was a long-time friend of his mom’s and known as a bit of a gossip. “Why would Dorothy tell you something was going on between Jo and me?”
“She saw y’all at Wings and Rings the day Matt got hurt. Said y’all looked pretty cozy right up until Matt got hurt, and that she held your hand ‘til you left.”
Good God, there wasn’t anything sacred in this town. Absolutely nothing.
“Mom, I’m not sure what Dorothy thinks she saw. But yes, we were holding hands. I was worried about Matt and she was comforting me. She’s a high school guidance counselor for crying out loud—that’s what she does.” Keep telling yourself that, his conscience whispered.
“You should bring her to supper some time. Your dad and I would love to see her again. It’s been years.”
Chase was pretty sure the thought of sitting down to a family meal with his parents would make Jo fairly uncomfortable. Then again, it could also help Jo—and to be honest, himself—to move on from the past. To appease his mom he said, “I’ll ask her and see what she says. But she’s pretty busy taking care of her grandma.”
“Just promise me you’ll ask her, honey.”
“Sure, Mom. I promise.”
After he and Sarah said their goodbyes and Chase had hung up his phone, he stared at the wall for long moments. What was it George Bernard Shaw had said? If you couldn’t get rid of the skeletons in the family closet, you might as well make them dance? Problem was, he didn’t think Jo was up for making any of her skeletons dance.
~~*~~
Chapter Nine
“Such a shame, what happened to that Roberts boy.” Gran shook her head as the current game’s producer decided to once again replay the line drive that had hit Matt in the head almost two weeks ago.
Jo stood up, gathered her and Gran’s plates off of their TV trays, and took them into the kitchen. Every time they showed it, she saw Chase’s face, heard his muttered pleading with his brother to get up off the mound. She’d never seen him so scared, not even as a kid and he’d had to go through yet another surgery, and witnessing his emotions that evening had shaken her.
She hadn’t known what to say then.
She didn’t know what to say now.
Not that she’d had an opportunity to say anything. He’d left the restaurant that night and she hadn’t heard from him since. Logically, she understood—they hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers or email addresses. Weren’t friends on Facebook, didn’t follow each other on Twitter, weren’t connected on LinkedIn.
The only things they’d exchanged were heated kisses and old emotions.
Nothing to see here. Moving right along.
She slammed a plate into the dishwasher with a little more force than necessary, and forced herself to take a mental step back.
His brother had just had a near-death experience from what little she’d been able to gather from Jenn, who had talked to Chase.
He could call Jenn, but not the woman he’d been flirting with just seconds before things went to shit?
Jo felt the sharp edges of jealousy clawing at her gut and slammed the dishwasher door closed.
Fuck.
She needed to get out of this house.
“Gran, I’m gonna go for a run. I’ll be back in a little while,” she yelled from the kitchen before heading to her bedroom to change into workout clothes.
Yes, a run sounded good. Not as gratifying as deadlifts or back squats, but maybe it would help improve her mood, if not relieve some of the tension she’d been feeling.
Once she’d changed into her running clothes, she strapped her Bulldog fanny pack to her waist, grabbed her STI Elektra off the nightstand, did a quick press check, and fastened it with the Velcro loops on the inside of the pack. She dropped an extra magazine into a different zippered pouch, along with her driver’s license and concealed handgun license. Her phone went in the front pocket, along with some earbuds just in case she decided she needed music.
Out on the sidewalk, Jo looked around, taking note of her surroundings while going through a series of warm-up stretches. She then set off at an easy pace, allowing her body to get into a rhythm before pushing herself a little more.
It grated that she was jealous of Jenn. She knew she had no reason to be, really had no right to be jealous. But it was there, simmering under the surface. It irritated her that for all these years, Jenn had been right there, such a big part of Chase’s life.
Never mind the fact that Jo had been the one to throw it all away. Cutting off ties with Chase had been her choice and no one else’s.
Not for the first time in the past eighteen years she wished she hadn’t made that decision.
It was easy—too easy—to imagine how their lives might have been different had she not thrown their friendship away. Somewhere, in the part of her heart that wanted marriage and babies and a dog, there was a picture of the two of them together, a baby on one hip and a toddler chasing that imaginary dog around the backyard. The kids had his hair and smile. Her eyes. The todd
ler—a boy—was already showing signs of being the best pitcher the world had ever seen. And the baby? Well, she adored her daddy.
Despite the fact that Jo had ended their friendship right at that age when girls started thinking about those happily ever afters with specific boys in mind, and despite the fact that she’d never truly acknowledged her feelings, she’d longed for him. As the years had flown by, she’d longed for him even more. The high school sweetheart love story. The long-distance phone calls and weekend visits while in college. The well-timed marriage proposal right after graduation, and the June wedding a year later.
She didn’t deserve those things, though. Didn’t deserve him.
How could she, when she’d so stupidly thrown it all away?
He’d been her best friend, and she his. And she’d thrown it away out of fear and confusion and disgust with her mother and a sense that doing so was the only way to protect him and his family.
Jo ran, her legs and arms pumping hard and fast, until she was sprinting down the sidewalk, yards and cars and people and children’s toys a blur. Her thoughts pushed, crowding in and shouting so loud they were drowning each other out.
Why the fuck hadn’t he called?
~~*~~
7:23.
The numbers stared back at Chase, and he vaguely registered the time.
He’d been at work since just before six that morning, needing to get back to the office and real life. Matt had been in his home less than twenty-four hours and Chase was already wanting to climb the walls or punch something.
Matt’s Yoda routine last night, along with just being there, had set him on edge. Chase liked his space, needed his privacy. In a town of roughly 36,000 people, he often straddled the line between public and private. On one hand, Del Rio was just big enough to afford some modicum of anonymity. On the other, it was just small enough that everyone knew who he was, even if they didn’t actually know him.
Thus, the need for a safe haven.
He read over his emails again. A local reporter had reached out to him regarding the uptick in commercial real estate sales and construction the area was currently experiencing. He suspected the reporter probably wanted the scoop on Matt more.