But he could have followed up with her, right? If she was being childish, then he was doubly so.
As she climbed out of her car, she noticed a shiny black SUV parked on the other side of the street in front of the Andrews’ house. The Andrews had lived on the block as long as the Maxwells had and Mr. Andrews was famous for leasing a new vehicle every two or three years. This was his first SUV, though. He usually preferred sedate four-door sedans.
The aromatic smell of barbecue wafted in the air. Kelly’s stomach rumbled happily. It had been a while since she’d had her dad’s famous barbecued ribs. Her talk with her sponsor had helped her put the ice cream incident into perspective. However, the lapse did reinforce the fact that she would never be completely cured. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy food and tonight she intended to do just that. As she approached the side gate and opened it, she heard voices in the back so she bypassed the side door into the garage and headed straight for the backyard.
Rounding the corner, the first thing she saw was her father in his usual spot, manning the grill. The second thing she saw made her stop short and let out a soft gasp of surprise.
What the hell was he doing here?
“Hi, Kelly.” Standing next to John Maxwell, holding a beer and looking extremely satisfied with himself, Matt grinned. “It’s about time you got here.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was difficult, but Kelly managed to keep her jaw from hitting the patio. “Hi, Dad,” she said, totally blown away by the fact that Matt was standing in her parents’ backyard, looking quite at home, and extremely attractive, in faded jeans and a light blue polo shirt that accentuated his deeply tanned skin. “Matt.” She gave him a curt nod as she moved to the redwood picnic table covered with a colorful red-gingham tablecloth. She set her purse on the bench as her mother opened the screen door and stepped outside.
“Kelly, we didn’t expect you so soon.” Patricia Maxwell’s eyes lit up. “Matt said you were running late.”
“Did he?” Kelly looked from her mother to Matt and manufactured a wide smile. “Well, I’m here now,” she said as she gave her mother a hug. Over her mom’s shoulder, she gave Matt a hard stare. Oh, how she wished she could wipe the smug expression clean off his face. He was totally enjoying her discomfiture and it was annoying as hell. “And it seems you were able to get here without any trouble at all,” she said with a frosty tone to Matt.
“GPS is an amazing thing,” he replied with a self-satisfied twist of his lips and lifted his beer to his mouth.
Patricia stepped back and beamed at Kelly as only a mother could. “You look beautiful, as always.” Before she could say a word, her mother grabbed her hand. “Come inside, I need to check on the beans.”
“Check on the beans?” Kelly asked with suspicion. “Don’t you usually open a can and nuke them? What’s there to check?”
“I made them myself.”
“You what?” Kelly whipped her head around and met her father’s gaze. He gave her a sheepish shrug and then focused his attention on the grill. The traitor. How could he let her mother make something from scratch? Nothing good ever came of that.
“The recipe was easy,” Patricia commented and chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a repeat of the great chili disaster of 2010.”
Kelly clutched her stomach. “God, I hope not. I was sick for a week.”
“I didn’t know there was a recall on that ground beef.” Her mother’s tone was defensive. “This time I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Yes, they’d be surprised all right, but not pleasantly. Patricia Maxwell wasn’t exactly a wizard in the kitchen. Unfortunately, both she and Kayla had inherited their mother’s lack of skill in the cooking department. On the plus side, though, they both could work a microwave and order takeout like nobody’s business.
“I’m sure the beans will be great, Mrs. Maxwell.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. What a suck-up.
“Why, thank you, Matt.” Patricia’s cheeks turned pink. “Didn’t I ask you to call me Patricia?”
Oh good God. Her mother was just as smitten with Matt as she was with Sean Barrett. The man couldn’t have been here more than thirty minutes and already he’d charmed her mother as easily as he’d charmed her father. Whatever voodoo he’d used on both of them had worked.
“Sorry. I forgot.” He flashed her mother that same disarming smile that had won over every Blaze fan in the Bay Area and, of course, her mother was eating it up. It was disgusting. “Patricia,” he added in a smooth tone and took another draw of his beer.
“Come with me, honey.” Her mother pulled her toward the screen door. “We won’t be long,” Patricia called over her shoulder as she opened the door and led Kelly into the house.
Once inside, she followed her mother’s trim figure through the family room and into the kitchen. “How long has Matt been here?” she asked and moved to the stove where a pot was simmering over a low gas flame. She lifted the lid and stared at the sorry-looking concoction her mother was trying to pass off as baked beans. Bile rose in her throat as the pungent aroma of God-knows-what strange spices her mother had used invaded her nostrils. Following a recipe to the letter wasn’t Patricia’s strong suit—she liked to experiment. Sadly, those experiments usually resulted in the ingestion of large dosages of antacids by those unlucky enough to sample her culinary creations. Kelly replaced the lid. Matt would get an extra-big helping...she’d make sure of it.
“About forty-five minutes.” Her mother opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bowl containing a tossed green salad and set it on the square wooden chopping block in the middle of the room before reaching back inside for a couple of bottles of dressing. The kitchen wasn’t large, but it was warm and inviting with its pale melon-colored walls and white lace curtains. An antique oak table was placed in a nook near the window that overlooked the street. There was a formal dining room in the house, but when she was growing up her family had always dined in the kitchen unless they had guests over for dinner.
“He’s such a charming and personable young man. And awfully handsome, don’t you think?”
Still annoyed, Kelly brushed an errant lock of hair from her face. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Patricia closed the refrigerator door, put her hand on her hip and pinned her with a perceptive gaze.
“What?” she asked when a sly smile played over her mother’s lips.
“He’s single. That means he’s available.”
Kelly suppressed a snort. “Mom, don’t even go there. Matt and I are complete opposites.”
Patricia’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “And you know what they say about that, right?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Opposites attract.”
Kelly moved forward and picked up the salad bowl. “Matt Scanlon and I barely tolerate each other. It was hate at first sight and not much has changed.” Except for maybe those extremely hot kisses they’d shared. But there was no way she was mentioning that to her mother. That would only fuel her not so subtle attempt at matchmaking.
“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” her mother continued on undeterred. “Why else would he be here if he wasn’t interested in you? I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“Stop with the clichés,” Kelly grumbled. “He wasn’t looking at me in any special way. He’s only here to see the Chevelle, remember? Just concentrate on Kayla and Sean and their wedding, would you?”
Patricia’s mouth formed a perfect O. “A double wedding,” she whispered reverently. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She stared at her mother in disbelief. “Have you been watching that stupid wedding show again?”
“Don’t swear,” her mother admonished and then continued, “Yes. I love that show. And one day—” Patricia picked up the salad dressing bottles, “—you’ll thank me.”
* * *
Sitting across the picnic table from Matt, Kelly could barely contain her glee
as he choked down his fourth spoonful of her mother’s beans. She had volunteered to serve and, as planned, made sure he got a supersized portion. After taking a bite of potato salad she watched with satisfaction as his shoulders heaved and his eyes began to water. He reached for his beer and took a long drink. It was hard not to laugh, but she managed to keep a straight face as he set the bottle down and gave her a pitiful look.
Kelly hadn’t planned on sharing her tried and true method for saving his ass but she was wavering. How could she not help him out when it appeared he was trying to spare her mother’s feelings by eating every spoonful of those horrible beans? Not many people would do that.
Next to her, her father had already bitten the bullet and eaten his small portion. Across from him, sitting beside Matt, her mother was digging into her beans with gusto. This proved her mother’s taste buds were completely trashed, or maybe she had none. Was that it? Patricia Maxwell ate anything and everything and never complained. Could it be she had no sense of taste? Did such a thing exist? An internet search on the topic was in order as soon as she got home.
As Matt stared glumly at his plate. Kelly had to give him credit, his fortitude was amazing. By the look of it, he was going to finish the beans even if it killed him. That was when she decided he’d had enough. His good manners should be rewarded.
“I’d love some more of those ribs,” she said and reached for the platter sitting next to the pitcher of iced tea that sat in front of her. As she went to grab the platter, she shifted her hand ever so slightly and, in a move borne of practice, discreetly knocked over the pitcher. It clattered to the table, the tea spilling onto Matt’s plate, flooding it. “Oh no.” She feigned shocked surprise and quickly righted the pitcher. “I’m so sorry. Did that get on your jeans?”
“No.” Matt moved quickly to blot the tablecloth with his napkin so the liquid wouldn’t spill over the edge of the picnic table.
“Here’s another napkin.” Patricia quickly grabbed one from a basket at the end of the table and handed it to Matt, who used it to dry the plastic tablecloth.
Kelly rose from the bench and picked up his plate. “Let me get you a clean plate.”
He gazed at her with something that looked a lot like gratitude.
“I should have known better than to put that pitcher out,” her mother grumbled and shook her head. “It seems every time we have a family dinner, the iced tea always ends up on the table.”
“You know me, Mom. I’m clumsy.” Kelly avoided her father’s all-knowing gaze and headed for the screen door. Just before she pulled it open to step inside, she glanced over her shoulder and winked at Matt. His eyes widened a fraction and a slow smile tipped one corner of his mouth. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and stepped into the house before she blew the whole thing by laughing.
* * *
After she’d finished the last of her ribs, Kelly wiped her fingers on her napkin and blew out a happy sigh. “Dad, you haven’t lost your touch, the ribs were excellent.”
“Thank you, Peanut,” her father replied as he reached for the green salad.
Kelly didn’t bother with her usual mock outrage. After all, Matt already knew her childhood nickname so why bother? She set her napkin on the table next to her plate and slid off the redwood bench. “I’ll be right back.”
Her mother’s head shot up, her face shadowed with a mixture of suspicion and worry. It was a look Kelly had seen before. “Where are you going?”
“In the house.” Her heart sank as she looked from her mother’s anxious face to her father, who wore the same troubled expression on his. Was it always going to be like this? She was way past the worst of her eating disorder, but it was evident that her parents were afraid she was going into the house so she could run to the bathroom to purge. “I’m going to the kitchen to get the cherry pie you ordered from Fiorio’s. Would you like to help me slice it?” she asked in a sharp tone.
“No, honey,” her mother said with a weak smile. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
Kelly glanced at Matt who was regarding the entire exchange with puzzlement. The sudden tension had to be odd to him, but he didn’t say a word.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she said with false cheeriness and went inside the house.
In the kitchen, she sliced the pie with jerky movements. She’d just snapped at her mother for being concerned about her. What kind of person was she, anyway? How could she blame her parents for worrying about a relapse, when she’d almost done that very thing two nights ago? Her whole family had been affected by her eating disorder, and obviously, they still were.
Would there ever be a time when it wasn’t a part of who she was? Dumb question. It was the same as being a recovered drug addict or alcoholic. Just like they did, she had to take it one day at a time.
* * *
After spending an hour with John in his garage checking out the Chevelle, Matt returned to the backyard to find Kelly stretched out on a cushioned chaise on the redwood deck next to the Maxwells’ modest swimming pool. Beneath its calm surface, a light was on, giving the water a tropical blue-green hue.
The weather was much different in the East Bay than in San Francisco. Of course, Kelly knew that and had arrived wearing a short denim skirt that showed off her toned athletic legs, and a turquoise tank top that hugged her body like a second skin. Even now, with the sun just beginning to set, it was at least 85 degrees. Now this was summer.
Next to the picnic table, Matt halted at the small cooler that held iced bottles of beer and water. He reached for a bottle of water and looked over at Kelly, who hadn’t noticed him and was staring straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought. She’d been quiet ever since that odd exchange between her and Patricia.
Before that tense moment the evening had been enjoyable. Kelly had been surprised to see him and after the initial shock, had been subdued but cordial. She’d even taken pity on him and finagled a way for him to avoid finishing those god-awful beans. He needed to thank her for that. If he’d had to eat one more bite, he would have puked for sure. Patricia Maxwell was a very nice woman, but her cooking skills left a lot to be desired.
John and Patricia did the majority of the talking during the meal, mostly asking him questions about his baseball career and his long-standing friendship with Sean. The Maxwells were thrilled Sean was marrying Kayla, and it was evident they doted on both of their daughters. He envied Kelly her close-knit family, so different from his own. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to his parents.
“Do you want some water, or a beer?”
When Kelly turned toward him, the few remaining rays of sunlight glinted off of her hair, picking up the golden highlights to create a halo-like effect. She looked almost ethereal, and so damn beautiful his breath caught in his throat. “No. Thanks,” she said and turned her attention back to the pool.
He crossed the patio to the deck and motioned to the chaise next to her. “May I join you?”
“Be my guest.” She crossed one ankle over the other, a graceful move that drew his attention to her smooth lightly tanned legs. “How did you get my parents’ address?”
“Simple,” he said as he lowered himself to the chaise and got comfortable. “I called directory assistance. Your father mentioned Pleasanton the night we had dinner, and I knew his name. Turns out their number is listed. I called and got the address.”
“You’re smarter than you look.”
“Ouch.” Matt grinned as he removed the cap from his bottle.
“I should have spoken to you about tonight but...”
“But we’re clearly both very stubborn people,” he finished for her.
“Clearly.”
He took a long pull of water and then cradled the bottle between his thighs. “By the way, thanks for the save.”
“Kayla and I perfected that move years ago.” Her husky laugh washed over him with the effect of a hot, hard kiss.
Matt let his gaze wander over the endless length of her
legs. All day, even during the game, he’d thought about the kiss they’d shared two nights ago. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about taking those kisses further. For the first time in over a year he felt fully alive. Was his grief finally easing, or was it Kelly? He wasn’t sure. What he did know was he couldn’t get her out of his head.
During the national anthem he’d checked the section where she and her father usually sat, but today there had been two people he didn’t recognize sitting in the seats. The disappointment had been acute, so acute that he’d resorted to calling John to get directions to the Maxwells’ house. He’d wanted to see her that badly. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had gotten under his skin the way Kelly had. It was slightly disturbing, but that still hadn’t stopped him.
“You seem quiet tonight. Is it because I’m here?” he asked after a long, but not uncomfortable silence.
“No,” she said softly. “It’s...it’s just...well, I’ve got a problem at work.”
That wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d witnessed in the clubhouse the other day. “Is it Rizzo?” His pulse started to pound. If Rizzo was hassling her, the prick was going to regret the day he was born.
“It’s not one of the players. But every time I see Rizzo, he gives me the evil eye. He hates me.”
Matt took another sip of water. “He’s an asshole,” he said a second later.
“No argument there.”
“If it’s not one of the players, then what’s this problem you’re dealing with?”
“It’s complicated. I have an intern this season—”
“The young blonde?” he interrupted her. “Alexis, right? I’ve seen her around the clubhouse. In fact, I saw her yesterday for the first time in a couple of weeks. She’s dropped a lot of weight.”
Kelly shifted to her hip, her expressive face pensive. “I’m worried about her, and today I think I blew my chance to help her.”
“What happened?”
She bit her bottom lip and hesitated before continuing. “Between us, I think she has an eating disorder. All the signs are there.”
The Winning Season Page 16