by Ann, Natalie
“Disappointed, but you are entitled to your thoughts just like I am.”
“And what thoughts are those?”
“That I’m going to prove you wrong. That I’m going to win you over and you’re going to ask me to take you to bed, not the other way around.”
* * *
Kaelyn almost felt like she walked into the statement Harris tossed down in front of her like golf ball-sized hail during a storm.
She’d never asked a guy for sex before, but something told her there might be a first in her life.
They’d eaten their dinner, they’d played with Nicks in the backyard, then they’d eaten the frosted brownies she’d brought over.
Now they were on the way to his parents’ house. “That’s moving a bit fast, don’t you think?” she asked when they climbed into his Range Rover. Figured he’d have a six-figure vehicle, but he wasn’t the only one in the area driving these so he didn’t stand out too much.
“For fireworks?” he asked.
“Meeting your parents.”
He started to laugh at her. “Please. They are out of town. I’m not crazy, you know.”
She was trying not to get insulted. “Why would you be crazy to do that?”
“I can’t win with you. You just said it’s too early and then you are annoyed I said I agreed with it.”
“You’ve got me all twisted up when I’m not normally that way.”
“See? I’m wearing you down,” he said, his hand going to her thigh and giving her a little pat.
She didn’t want to admit that was the case. Instead she just hummed low in her throat.
He laughed at her and they didn’t say another word until they pulled into his parents’ driveway. They weren’t that close to other houses so there wouldn’t be any witnesses to them being here.
Not that she cared, but he seemed to. So far they’d only ordered food to be delivered and he pretty much wore a baseball hat on his head in public. If he was afraid to be seen out by himself, then he wouldn’t want to be seen with her either.
At least that was what she was feeling. And of course it pinged her insecurity radar too.
She understood to a point that he was still trying to keep a low profile, but if he was really looking to move on with his life then he had to get past that.
This wasn’t Manhattan and though people were probably going to want his autograph, he’d have to figure out how to deal with it. He wasn’t the only professional athlete from this area and he wasn’t the only multi-millionaire living here either.
Hell, her family had millions. Not her. Not at the moment.
A trust fund? Sure she had one, but since she didn’t go into the family business she didn’t get what the rest of them did. Not a paycheck, but she’d have partial ownership like her two brothers and two cousins someday.
“So you never said how my brother was when he stopped over,” she said.
“He was fine. Kept it all professional and did his thing. He asked if I had any questions on the house, then said he’d be back next week to do the dog door.”
“He didn’t ask you about baseball?” She was shocked. Evan wouldn’t want to, but if he saw an opening he might take it.
“It came up but not like you think. He just said he was sorry to hear about my accident and that he’s always been a huge fan. I signed a baseball and hat for him. He didn’t ask, but I could tell he was happy about it.”
“That was nice of you.” She figured Evan had it in a case already in his study but didn’t want to tell Harris that and have it go to his head.
“I can be a nice guy.”
“You’re a very nice guy,” she said back and reached for his hand as they walked to the backyard of his parents’ house. “It’s nice back here.”
“It is. Peaceful.” He unlocked the backdoor. “I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge if you want a glass or two.”
“That would be nice.”
And that was exactly how the rest of the night went. Nice.
They each had a drink. They watched the fireworks. They talked and they were content around each other.
More than she’d been around other men after ten dates, let alone two.
He wasn’t doing much at all and he was right, he was wearing her down.
How? By not pressuring her. By being himself.
By being human rather than the cocky athlete she’d read he could be.
Maybe she was wrong about him.
8
Ugly Truth
“What are you doing here?” Harris asked his mother when she walked in the front door. Good thing he was up and dressed.
Sort of dressed in athletic shorts and nothing else. He’d pulled them on to let Nicks out and then made coffee and sat back on the couch while he flipped through the channels for something to watch.
Unfortunately at seven on a Monday morning, there wasn’t much to watch other than the news.
“I drove by and saw the light on and figured I’d see how you were doing.”
“You were just driving by at seven in the morning?” he asked, not buying that one bit.
“Fine,” she said, walking over and sitting on the couch next to him. “If I called, you might not answer. Were you at the house over the weekend?”
He should have figured she’d know he was there even though he’d never said a word to them about it. “I was. I decided to watch the fireworks show.”
“With a woman?”
What the hell? “What makes you ask that?”
“The empty bottle of wine in the recycling bin. You drink beer, not wine...unless you are with a woman. It’s been a long time since you’ve snuck a woman in the house. Especially when you’ve got this place. So what’s up?”
“Fireworks,” he reminded her. “I can’t see them from here.”
“You couldn’t go to the show and see them there?”
“And be seen?” he asked.
“You need to get over this, Harris. Did you hide in your apartment or hotel before the accident?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you hiding here? You bought a house. It’s where you are living for the moment. You can’t and shouldn’t turn into a hermit.”
“I’m not.”
“Really?” she asked. “Sarah had to buy Nicks for you too.”
“I didn’t want them to know my address when I filled out the paperwork.”
“I’ll buy that to a point. The point being you need to move on.”
He let out a breath, took a sip of his coffee, and then tried to figure out his next words. “The press release will be out tomorrow.”
“And then you think it will be easier to go out in public? You were born and raised here. People are going to notice you. Time will fade memories for some and for others they will always be starstruck.”
“I’m not that star anymore.”
“And that’s the problem?” she asked. “That everyone looked at you—looked up to you—and now you think you’re an everyday Joe. Which we know you aren’t and never will be.”
“I don’t know what I am. I know that the life I had two months ago is gone and will never be the same.”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re young. You were going to retire in a few years anyway. You still got the same amount of money as if you were playing; you want or need nothing material in life. You’ve got your health when many don’t.”
He knew everything his mother was saying was the truth. An ugly truth that was like a wet palm to his face from an angry woman, but the truth it was.
“I need time.”
“I get it,” she said. “But your dream came true. Hell, you even threw your no hitter. Something many want and will never achieve. What more was there? You’re going out on top, it’s just not on your terms. Is that the problem?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I had a plan and I was sticking to it. I worked so hard to prove I deserved to be drafted when I did. When I didn’t turn out to be
as good as everyone thought those first few years, I worked harder and got stronger. I earned that last contract.”
“You earned everything you had. No one thinks otherwise. Now you get to retire at thirty and enjoy life. Find a new career or do nothing but walk dogs. But do something other than sit on this couch and sulk. That isn’t the kid I raised.”
He looked over at his mother, her brown eyes like his just staring at him. There was no pity there. There was no anger. It was just pride in him, but with a mother’s lecture to knock the chip off his shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So you’re driving back to the city for the press release?” she asked.
“I was going to have my agent give it, but then I figured I’d rather have it come from my lips. No use having people speculate. They can see for themselves I’m fine but not fine enough to play.”
“And there is nothing wrong with that, you know.”
“I do. Many have had career-ending injuries younger than me. Many didn’t get to achieve what I did. You’re right and I need to get over it.”
She slapped his thigh and stood up, Nicks lifting his head from where he’d been sitting in Harris’s lap. “Who is going to watch your pup while you’re gone?”
“I figured he’d be fine in his crate. I’m just driving there and back.”
“How about your father and I take him for the night? When you get there you might find you want to spend some time with your teammates or friends.”
He doubted that even though Johnny and a few others had been blowing up his phone. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be seen out for the night. He could crash at Johnny’s if he wanted.
“Maybe. Thanks.”
“No thanks needed,” she said, walking into his kitchen and making a cup of coffee. So much for thinking they were done talking. “So who is the girl you snuck to the house on Saturday?”
“There was no sneaking,” he said.
“Have you taken her anywhere in public?”
“What makes you think we’ve been out more than once?”
“Because you don’t often bring women back to our house and you did it when no one was around. Not only that, you did something with her. Something that many might think was romantic. Wine and fireworks.”
He rolled his eyes. No use lying about anything. “Kaelyn Butler. She’s my physical therapist.”
“Really? Butler? As in Paradise Place you are residing in?”
“That would be her family, yes. She doesn’t have anything to do with the family business. And no, no one knows about it and we’d like to keep it that way.”
“‘We’ meaning both of you, or just you?”
He thought for a second. They’d had two dinners, both that he ordered in and not much more. They talked at night, or texted. She wanted to keep work and their relationship separate. He figured she felt the same way, but then started to wonder if that wasn’t the case. Maybe she didn’t care if they went out in public, but she didn’t want to talk about it at work.
“Not sure.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“She doesn’t want anyone at work to know we’ve gone on two dates.”
“Makes sense.”
“She said she doesn’t play games and isn’t looking for a fling. I know I need to prove myself to her.”
His mother smiled. “I need to meet her. You never really cared if you proved yourself to anyone other than someone associated with baseball. Women have always been way down on the list for you.”
“Not always true,” he said, but he knew it was.
“You can lie to yourself but don’t lie to me.”
She walked back in and sat down with her coffee, Nicks moving over to her lap now. “It’s new and it might be nothing more than a few dates,” he said though he really hoped that wasn’t the case.
“If you say so. A word of advice. If you want more with her, don’t keep hiding her in the house.”
“I’m not hiding her,” he said.
“But you aren’t taking her out. I’m sure she is accepting of the fact you want to keep a low profile, but you can’t live like this all the time. If you don’t get out and do things and be seen with her, she’ll think you’re embarrassed to be with her.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
* * *
Tuesday at three Harris stood at the podium and made his retirement announcement. Abby Fleming, the PR manager, went over it with him. He didn’t need someone to write it for him, he knew what he was saying. Short and sweet and take a few questions, then get the hell out of there.
Abby was on his left, his agent and the Mets Manager to his right.
“It’s with great sadness that I’ll be walking away from pitching,” Harris said into the microphone where he sat. There was a cold chill running down his back and he couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth.
Years ago he had his speech all worked out for when this day came. He knew he’d go out on top. He’d leave before anyone could say he was washed up and he’d joke about doing it that way. But he also knew he’d do it in a few more years...when he was ready.
He wasn’t ready.
He didn’t want to do this.
He really had no choice.
“I had a good run,” he said, feeling himself getting a little choked up. “It was always my dream to be a Met and retire as one and that is what I’m doing. I’m going out playing the best damn game of my life and it’s the most I could have asked for. I want to thank the owners and the management, my sponsors, my teammates, and most of all my family for pushing me and sticking by my side. It’s time to hang up my glove.”
Abby pushed over the energy drink that he was still contracted on as a sponsor. Might as well take a swig and moisten his throat that was tight and dry from fighting back the tears.
“Harris will now take a few questions,” Abby said, pointing to one of the reporters.
“There is no chance of you returning?”
“Not at the level of what I want to be,” he said. “It’d take a solid year or more and nothing is guaranteed. I’d rather go out on my terms while I can.” He was smiling while he said it but knew many figured it was forced.
Abby pointed to another reporter. “What are you going to do now?”
He laughed. “You know, that’s a darn good question. For the foreseeable future I’m going to continue with my physical therapy and then I’ll play it by ear.”
“One more question,” Abby said, pointing to someone else. There were plenty with their hands up, but there was no way he was continuing on. He’d told them three questions and he was glad they were sticking to it.
“Are you going to sue the person that ended your career?”
He stood up, leaned into the mic and said, “No. Now if you’ll excuse me, the rest of the questions can be fielded through the Mets.”
Abby put her hand on his arm, threaded their fingers together for a minute and squeezed, giving him the bit of reassurance he needed by walking away the way he did with that question.
He had no clue he’d be asked that. Why would anyone care? He didn’t need the money and there was no reason to ruin someone else’s life just because his career was over.
Without looking back, he left the stage alone, leaving his agent and Abby to answer any other questions.
9
Beyond Words
Kaelyn was waiting for Harris to show up for his appointment and wondered if he’d cancel when it was three o’clock and he wasn’t here yet.
Normally he was a few minutes early.
She hadn’t talked to him since Monday night. Here they had what she thought was a great date on Saturday, kind of romantic and cozy. A little teasing, a little flirty, and a whole heck of a lot of kissing.
When he’d told her she’d have to ask for sex, she almost gasped, but then knew a challenge when she saw one.
That night she’d lain in bed thinking and dream
ing of Harris. His hands on her, his mouth. His body covering hers. She’d woken up in a cold sweat, wet between her legs, and throbbing. Nothing let her get back to sleep after that.
On Sunday they talked for a few minutes on the phone, had some fun banter via text, and not much more.
Monday he showed up for his appointment, they started working on his elbow and arm, a little with his ankle and he left. She’d gone to his house for dinner and they talked a bit and kissed a lot more.
Not once did he tell her he was going to a press conference to announce his retirement.
She was hurt beyond words.
The only reason she knew it happened was because she saw it on the news last night when she was eating dinner.
There he was, his voice firm but cracking slightly. The smile he was forcing, but she knew it was wobbly.
He looked like the pro that he was. Like the millionaire that everyone wanted to be.
His agent on one side, his PR rep on another.
When he got up to leave, she didn’t miss the hand-holding or the red fingernails that caressed his arm and back as he left the stage either.
But did he call her last night and tell her what he’d done or where he’d been? Nope, he didn’t.
Nor had she spoken to him since.
She’d told him no games.
She’d told him she didn’t have flings.
And there he was on national TV with a hot woman that was the complete opposite of Kaelyn running her hands on the body she wanted to touch.
She started to growl when her phone rang at her desk. “Yes?”
“Harris is here.”
“I’ll be right up,” she said, looking at her watch. He was five minutes late, but he was here.
She took a deep breath and made her way to the waiting room. He was waiting for her to come through the double doors, stood up, nodded his head, walked forward, and didn’t say a word.
When they got to the room they normally worked in, someone else was in there in the far corner.
“How is your ankle feeling today?” she asked, keeping it professional.