Travis

by Leigh Duncan

  His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He pried it loose. “So…” he began.

  Courtney studied him, her eyes filled with questions. “Why didn’t you put Tommy in to pitch today?”

  “Tommy?” Of all the scenarios that had been running through his head, none of them started with one of his players. “That’s what you brought me out here for?”

  A frown niggled Courtney’s lips. “Yes,” she said slowly. “What’d you think?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Travis ran a hand through sweat-dampened hair. “Usually, when a woman says she wants to talk, she means it’s over. Which is kind of crazy since we barely know one another. But I was hoping we at least had a chance…” His voice trailed off.

  Courtney’s eyes widened. “I…uh…I really wanted to talk about the Markhams.”

  The bands constricting his chest eased the tiniest bit. A long relief-filled breath seeped through his lips. He thought back to the game and did his best to answer her question.

  “About Tommy. The boy already threw twice this week. We’ve got some tough competition coming up. I thought it’d be better to rest him for a couple of days.” He clutched the steering wheel and stared out over the river. Halfway through the season, the Sluggers had won every game.

  “Melinda says you want your players to concentrate solely on baseball. Nothing else. She’s convinced Tommy will play pro ball and that you’re on board with that.” She seemed to think better of what she’d said and gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, what do I know.”

  “Whoa, now!” Travis held up a finger. “You know me better than that.”

  “That’s just the problem. I don’t.” Courtney let out a thready breath and met his gaze. “I want to, though. I—I guess it’s time we talk about why I have such a hard time with Josh playing baseball.”

  He’d known all along there was more to her story than a simple dislike of the sport. No one took such a vehement stand without a reason. Glad she finally trusted him enough to share hers, he settled back, waiting for her to continue. But Courtney fell silent for so long that at last he prompted her. “This is obviously a touchy subject. Did something happen to you?”

  “My husband. My late husband.” Her face crumpled. For one brief moment, her shoulders rounded. Then, just as Travis decided to take her in his arms and tell her he didn’t need to hear any more if it was too hard for her, she straightened.

  “He cheated—you knew that. That wasn’t the worst of it.”

  Not the worst?

  Travis noted the slight hitch in Courtney’s voice. What else had she been through?

  “From the moment he, uh, he landed his first job, that became Priority Number One. He had to be the best. Earn the biggest salary. Have the most toys. He turned being a workaholic into such an art form that I never questioned the late nights, the weekends he traveled—” she made air quotes “—on business. If he had a bad day or a bad week, he took his frustrations out on everyone. Me. Josh.”

  Now that she’d started, her words tumbled out in a rush. “He never actually struck us. No matter what, I’d have left if he did. But he was driven. Had to have a fancier car. A bigger house. Hold his liquor better and, as it turned out, have more women. Before I knew how bad things had gotten, the police were at the door. They said he’d wrapped his car around a tree. He died at the scene. His date was luckier. She only spent the next month in the hospital.”

  Travis sucked in a breath. “I had no idea.” His arms literally ached to reach out to her, but she’d wedged herself into the far corner. He wondered if she realized she’d crossed her arms as if she was trying to protect herself.

  “That crash took everything I had, except for the kids.” She stared out the window, refusing to meet his eyes. “Right after the funeral, I found out he’d blown through every dime of our savings—all to impress the latest in a long string of other women. The one with him that night, she sued. The settlement took the little we had left.”

  She sighed. “Of course, I was the last to know. His bosses. His te— His coworkers. Their wives. They’d all kept his secrets.”

  He sensed she was only skimming the surface, that there were other, more hurtful truths she wasn’t ready to tell him. He swallowed. If he’d known what she’d been through that first day in Bob’s office, he’d have gone easier on her.

  “So you packed up the kids and moved here?” he asked when she didn’t say anything more.

  Courtney nodded. “I salvaged what little I could before the creditors took over. It was enough to open the café. Barely.”

  Travis’s heart ached for the tears that dripped down her cheeks when she turned to face him.

  “I like you,” she admitted, her voice a breathy whisper. “I think you like me, too.”

  “More than you know.” Reaching out, he stroked her forearm. She trembled but didn’t resist when he took her hand in his.

  “Travis, I…I need to know how you feel about this thing with Tommy. I’ve been down that road. I know where such single-mindedness can lead. I need to know you do, too.”

  Travis’s hand stilled. She wasn’t the only one with secrets.

  “Did I ever tell you why I don’t play baseball anymore?”

  Courtney’s eyes narrowed. “You got cut, didn’t you?”

  “That’s what most people think. The real story isn’t the kind of thing players bandy about in the locker rooms.” Only a handful of people knew the whole truth, and suddenly, he wanted Courtney to be one of them.

  “I was this close to making it to the Show.” He pressed his forefinger to his thumb until they nearly touched. “The Cannons’ ace had torn a rotator cuff. Their bull pen was struggling and it was just a matter of time before they called me up. That day, in Saint Louis, a scout I knew was in the stands. I had to make a good impression, so I put everything I had into the ball. I threw harder, faster, than I ever had…and wound up cracking three ribs in the process.”

  She sucked in a gasp. “Oh, Travis. I’m so sorry.”

  He glanced over at her. So much pain and sympathy swam in her eyes that he’d have sworn she knew the injury was a career ender. Which was ridiculous considering her aversion to sports.

  “I had to make a choice. I could lie, load up on pain pills and continue to pitch. Or quit. It was touch and go there for a little while.” The time he spent struggling with the decision wasn’t his proudest moment. “In the end, I chose to walk away. It was either that or hurt myself and the game I love.”

  Understanding flickered in Courtney’s blue eyes. Without thinking about it, he pulled her into his arms. The need to feel her lips on his, to sweep her into his heart, took control and for a while he lost himself in the touch of her hands on his skin, the feel of her beneath his fingers.

  They were both slightly breathless by the time Addie’s giggles rose from the back seat.

  Reluctantly, Travis brushed his lips against Courtney’s upturned nose. He smiled as she smoothed her loose curls. He loved the way his kisses turned her lips rosy and put a hitch in her breath. He wanted to see where things were headed but reminded himself that with Courtney it had to be all about the small steps. Content that the one they’d just taken made the future look a whole lot brighter than it had a half hour earlier, he started the car and headed back the way they’d come.

  Chapter Nine

  Courtney held her breath as Josh snagged the line drive. Before his knees straightened, he reached into his glove for the ball. While her son fired a throw to first, the batter tore down the baseline. One foot on the bag, the first baseman plucked white leather from the air.

  “You’re out!” called the umpire. “That’s the game.” Removing his hat, he blotted his forehead on one arm.

  Courtney caught Josh’s eye. She blew him a kiss and shot him her biggest smile. Hugging Addie to her chest, she grabbed the diaper bag and raced for her car. She’d rolled out the dough for the team’s first visit to Coffee on Brevard before leaving for the field. An enormous sala
d chilled in the refrigerator. Still, she prayed that Nicole had everything else under control.

  Dashing into the café minutes later, she swept a glance over the folding tables covered with bright vinyl cloth, noted the sturdy paper plates and plastic utensils arranged in front of each chair. Streamers and balloons gave the place a festive look. Best of all, she inhaled the delicious blend of bubbling Italian sauce and melted cheese atop freshly baked dough. The first of a dozen pizzas were already in the brick oven, with another batch ready and waiting to take their place.

  “Hey, Nicole! Any problems?”

  “Everything’s great, Ms. Smith.” Nicole looked up from the pizza she was covering in pepperoni.

  “Let me get Addie settled and I’ll start on the drinks.” She slipped a Baby Einstein program into the DVD she’d temporarily moved into the book nook. Entranced by the puppet figures, Addie plopped down on her well-padded bottom.

  Courtney had barely finished placing pitchers of soda and iced tea on the tables when the bell over the door announced the first arrivals. She gave a cheery “Welcome to Coffee and Pizza on Brevard” and hustled to take a piping-hot pan from the oven. While the wave of parents and Sluggers found chairs, she checked on Addie. The little girl remained glued to the TV screen.

  At least, she did until Travis and Josh arrived.

  The minute the coach walked through the door, Addie scrambled to her feet. Calling, “Cosh Oak, Cosh Oak,” she toddled to his side. For the rest of the time, while team and family members ate and drank their fill, she eyed the proceedings from the safety of his arms.

  At first, Courtney considered rescuing the big guy. Her concerns eased when Addie tugged on Travis’s baseball cap. He swung away from his conversation with the catcher’s dad to play with her. Her daughter grinned and wrapped her chubby little arms around his neck. The sight spread warmth through Courtney’s chest.

  Later, after the last of the team and Nicole had departed, Courtney sank exhausted onto a chair. Her jeans had barely brushed the seat before Addie relinquished her stranglehold on Travis. Grinning broadly, she padded across the room.

  “Maamaa.” She patted Courtney’s leg. “Mee-ilk.”

  “You want a bottle, baby girl?” she whispered. There was one in the fridge upstairs. She made it halfway out of her chair before Travis, his hands filled with plates he’d taken from the tables, stopped her.

  “Hold on.” He turned to Josh. “Can you get that?”

  The boy had just plunked himself in front of the TV set, but he didn’t hesitate. He dashed up the stairs.

  When they were alone, Courtney turned to the man who apparently had both her children wrapped around his little finger. “Thanks. For everything.”

  Travis crossed to the trash can, where he dumped the load of cardboard and pizza crusts. “I didn’t hear a single complaint. Quite the opposite. Several parents asked if we could make this a regular thing. I told ’em that’d be up to you. You think you broke even?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it?

  “Better,” she assured him.

  Every pot, pan and bowl she owned had been piled in the sink. The display case had been stripped of every morsel except for two prune Danish. It would take hours to put things right, a full day of baking to replenish the dessert trays. But the till overflowed.

  Courtney brushed a few crumbs from her apron. Once the baseball season ended, she could host postgame celebrations for soccer or basketball teams, open the shop for birthday parties on weekends. She’d double-check the books, of course, but her head for business told her a couple of similar events each month would put Coffee on Brevard in the black and keep it there.

  She looked up as Josh thundered down the stairs. When she took the bottle he handed her, she paused to give his shoulder a light squeeze. “Thanks, honey. That was some play you made at the end of the game.”

  “It was awesome, wasn’t it?” Josh mimicked the throw.

  “Absolutely.” Courtney smiled. Two months ago, if anyone had told her she’d praise her son for something he’d done on a baseball field, she’d have thought they’d lost their mind.

  She handed the bottle to Addie. The little girl’s eyes drifted shut as if a switch had been thrown. Courtney glanced across the room to the man who was responsible for her change of heart, the one who might just have saved her business from going under. Each day, it seemed, the big guy won her over a little more. He possessed every quality she’d ever wanted in a husband, a father for her children. If she wasn’t careful, she’d let herself fall in love with him. A prospect that didn’t scare her nearly as much as it once had.

  Or at least, not as much as telling him all her secrets, including that Josh had inherited his baseball talent from his famous father.

  How would Travis react?

  He’d probably run, not walk, to the nearest exit.

  Not one reporter had listened to her side of the story when the truth about Ryan’s affairs surfaced. The media had all but accused her of turning a blind eye on her husband’s unfaithfulness in exchange for the big house, the money, the lifestyle of the rich and famous. As for Ryan’s teammates and their wives, they’d echoed the party line.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of Travis treating her the same way, but whether he did or he didn’t, the time had come to tell him the truth. The whole truth.

  Even if it meant her life would move forward without him in it.

  “All that practice you’ve been doing is paying off.” Travis scooped another armload of paper plates into the trash. “You did a great job anticipating that hit.”

  “Did you see how I held on to the ball just the way you showed me?” Josh pantomimed the way he’d trapped it in the glove Travis had given him.

  Travis chuckled. “I saw it. Now, how ’bout we help your mom out for a little bit?”

  Josh spared a quick look over his shoulder. “I’ll start there.” He pointed to the book nook, where muted voices came from the TV. Grabbing a half-empty cup from the coffee table, he looked around as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

  “Trash can, Josh,” Courtney mouthed.

  On her way up the stairs with Addie, she laughed at the way some things never changed. And some changed all too quickly. It wouldn’t be long before she’d miss the firm feel of her baby’s behind resting in her hand, the sleepy cuddle of Addie’s breath against her shoulder. In the tiny room under the eaves, she settled her daughter into her crib.

  By the time she rejoined Travis and Josh, the boys had tidied the café. They’d returned most of the furniture to its usual spots. The folding tables they’d borrowed from the rec center leaned against the wall by the door.

  “I’ll drop these off on my way home.” Travis tilted the last table against the others.

  “Can I go upstairs now?” Josh pleaded. “The TV down here doesn’t get ESPN.”

  Courtney studied the nook. Neatly stacked magazines stood on the table. Not a single piece of trash remained in sight.

  “You don’t want to stay down here with us?”

  Josh angled his chin toward the mountain of dishes in the tiny kitchen. A quick eye roll said there were limits to how much even a boy with a bad case of hero worship would do for his coach. Josh had, apparently, reached his.

  “Okay, shoo.” Courtney waved her fingers. “But only till we finish up down here. After Addie’s nap, we’ll need to go to the store.” There were groceries to buy if she was going to restock the display case for Monday.

  “Can we stop for a hamburger?”

  Peering into Josh’s face, Courtney considered the money they’d made that day. “I think I might have enough to cover a burger. Maybe some fries.”

  “All right!” The door at the top of the stairs closed behind him seconds later.

  She turned to Travis. Now that she had him all to herself, she intended to tell him everything. Honest, she did. But no sooner had her lips parted than his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. For several
long minutes, she clung to him while he plundered her mouth with kisses that left her breathless.

  When they came up for air, he smiled down at her. But she couldn’t let things continue. She dropped her hands to her sides.

  Emotion swirled and eddied in Travis’s dark eyes. “Don’t you want this?” he breathed.

  “I—I…” she started.

  She didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Not if it meant watching the approval in his eyes turn to disappointment. She slipped her hands into her apron pockets, where they couldn’t roam Travis’s broad chest.

  “It’s okay.” He held her at arm’s length. “We’re going to take things slow. Neither one of us can afford to make a mistake.”

  She took a moment to steady herself before she gestured toward the kitchen. “I guess I’d better get to work, then.”

  Travis followed her gaze. “You can wash. I’ll dry.” He grabbed a dish towel and snapped it in the air. “What?” he asked at her incredulous look. “You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you? I said slow, not nonexistent.”

  A warm glow put a smile on her face. Maybe if they took things slow enough, she’d find a way to confide all her secrets. Till then she’d concentrate on finding out all there was to know about the man who was impossibly in tune with her needs. She exchanged her soiled apron for a clean one while the sink filled with hot, sudsy water for the pieces that couldn’t go into the dishwasher.

  “I saw you talking to the Markhams. It looked pretty—” searching for the right word, she paused “—intense?”

  “You could say that.” Travis shrugged. He wiped the last few drops from a platter. “You know that baseball academy Melinda mentioned? They asked me to write a recommendation for Tommy. They didn’t give up easily when I suggested their goals for their son were a bit unrealistic.”

  Courtney cringed. She could well imagine how that news had gone over with Melinda. “How’d they take it?”