by Elley Arden
Nashville seemed so far away.
“We’ll know more tomorrow,” Grey said, sort of babbling to fill the nervous space.
“Yep.” Jordon kicked his ankle over the opposite knee and looked at something on his phone. “Until then, we have plenty of time to talk about why the hell you’re in Pittsburgh and who the hell Nel is.”
Jordon’s bristling directness wasn’t unexpected as much as it was unappreciated, considering Grey’s current state and inability to prepare answers. But really, facing the potential end of his career, what the fuck did any of it matter?
“I inherited a house from Dad, and I was getting it ready to sell.”
Jordon’s tanned face darkened in his usual response to anything having to do with Dad. “You were getting it ready? Why wasn’t a qualified construction crew getting it ready?”
Grey closed his eyes and shrugged. “I like doing renos.” It sounded like a question.
“I’m not buying it.”
“Nobody is. It’s not finished.”
“Smartass, I’m not buying your story. Forgive me if I think there’s more to it after you’ve been evading my questions about your whereabouts for almost two months now.”
“Fine.” Grey concentrated on the fleck of pain, the tiny burn left in his mostly numb hand. Maybe that would distract him from the pain of falling short on his plan for the house and paying back Jordon.
“Did you know he bought that house with your money?”
Silence. If it weren’t for the throbbing in Jordon’s cheeks Grey might have thought he didn’t hear him. “I figured it was only fair to fix the place up, sell it, and give you back your money.”
“Damn it, Grey.” But Jordon sniffed, and then he looked away, and the uncharacteristic emotional behavior made Grey’s chest cramp. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
Grey followed Jordon’s gaze to his injured hand.
“It seemed like the right thing to do.” It was the right thing to do … this injury didn’t change that.
“And Nel? How does she figure into this?”
Grey shook his head, wanting to pick his words carefully, knowing Jordon would be a lot harder on a woman he assumed was looking to benefit from one of his athletes — especially his brother, especially after Lindsay.
“She’s important to me.”
“How so? Where’d you meet her? How long have you known her? If she’s so damn important, where is she now?” With each question, Jordon’s voice deepened and grew louder until Grey was pretty sure a nurse would be checking on them any minute.
“You’re here about my hand and my career, not my personal life. She’ll be back, and you’ll be civilized, or I’ll tell Maggie you’re being insensitive to me and my injury.”
At the mention of his wife, Jordon rolled his eyes and huffed, but his shoulders relaxed, and Grey knew he’d won. This round.
There’d be more … rounds with Jordon, rounds with doctors, rounds with Nel. But if there was the slightest chance Grey could get back to where he was, he needed to be ready for a fight.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nel stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, listening to the dogs snore. If she turned her head so her cheek rested on the pillow, and she breathed deep enough, she could smell the warm, clean scent of Grey.
But he wasn’t here. For three nights he’d been a prisoner to medical machinery and nurse monitors, while Nel slept in his bed with the dogs so he had one less thing to worry about.
She still couldn’t believe the hand surgeon’s abysmal prognosis, even though she saw what he was talking about with her own eyes. Grey couldn’t feel whole parts of his right hand. His throwing hand. And by the look on his brother’s face, this wasn’t the kind of injury most men came back from.
But Grey wasn’t like most men.
A tear collected in the corner of her eye, and she reached up to rub it away. After seeing his pain, what did she have to cry about? She wasn’t faced with losing the career she’d worked so hard to build. She wasn’t souped up on morphine because she nearly cut off her hand.
Joker stirred, pawing the comforter until his head snuggled in the crook of her arm. She welcomed the comfort, and ached a little because Grey probably missed it, especially knowing they’d decided it was best for the dogs to remain with her indefinitely in Pittsburgh until he had full use of both hands.
He’d be discharged today, and then he’d be leaving, heading for Nashville, where team doctors could see the injury for themselves and plot a course for rehabilitation. It had all been laid out dryly and presented as non-negotiable by Jordon.
Knowing how much Grey loved those dogs, her keeping them meant she’d talk to him regularly and see him again at some point; but she didn’t know when, and she didn’t know how any of it would affect the relationship they managed to build these past two months.
She loved him. She was more certain now than ever before. And falling asleep in his arms the night of the awards ceremony, she was certain he loved her, too. But no matter how sure and strong, love couldn’t fix everything.
Grey’s career wasn’t the only thing on the line, was it?
That foreboding feeling stayed with Nel as she dragged herself out of bed, went through the dogs’ morning routine, and then headed home to shower and change. The feeling intensified when she walked into the hospital and came face-to-face with Grey’s brother, a man who looked like he’d rather be staring down a firing squad than her.
“Good morning,” she said.
Jordon bobbed his head and then hid his mouth behind a ludicrously small, disposable cup of coffee.
Nel tossed a dismissive smile and walked past him.
“He’s with the nurse. She’s going over the discharge notes.”
The words and their implied meaning — she wasn’t privy to that much information about Grey — stopped Nel cold. “Don’t you think someone should be in there with him?”
“Not particularly. We’ll be in Nashville in a matter of hours, and he’ll have a whole new set of protocol.”
He wasn’t very nice, but she had experience dealing with prickly Kemmons men. “You don’t like me, do you?”
He shrugged and raised the cup to his lips again. “I’m indifferent to you.”
Cripes. She’d hate to see what he was like when he didn’t like someone.
“The way I see it, you’ve served your purpose — whatever that purpose was — and you’ll be little more than an ink smudge on the timeline of Grey’s life once that house is sold. So, yeah, I’m indifferent.”
Ouch. He made indifferent sound worse than being not liked.
“I’ll see to it that you’re reasonably compensated for the care of the dogs.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Oh, it’s not my money, it’s Grey’s.”
“I don’t want his money, either.”
Jordon stepped toward her. “Then what do you want?” He was big and strong and totally trying to intimidate her. He was also a carbon copy of Grey.
She softened … a bit. “I want your brother to play baseball again. Next to you, it means more to him than anything in this world.”
Nel would’ve given up just about everything to know where she ranked on that list.
• • •
Grey held the discharge papers in his only functioning hand. He couldn’t remember a damn thing the nurse said. Frankly, he didn’t care. The only thing anyone said that mattered was the hand surgeon saying it didn’t look good. Jordon seemed to think they’d hear something different in Nashville. Grey couldn’t muster enough hope to care about that, either. Not right now. Not with Nel walking into the room, pity painted all over her pretty face.
He hated this. Hated the way he was leaving her. Hated that he was too distraught over the
possibility of never playing ball again to figure out what came next — for them. And why was he even in this position? Because he screwed up. He left that bed when he should’ve been lying there, holding her while she slept. Instead, he snuck off, tired and preoccupied, insisting on pushing through the rest of the renovations. Stupid. And now he was paying the price.
“Hey,” she said, clasping her hands at her waist. “Jordon said to tell you he’s pulling the car around.”
“Hey.” The urge to touch her got as far as his right elbow and died on the thought of raising his injured hand. How pathetic would that be?
“Sorry I’m late. Joker took forever to do his business.” She wrinkled her nose, and he found himself thinking how much he was going to miss that.
“If you throw him a ball a few times, he’ll go. Gets things moving.”
She smiled. “I’ll try that.”
She’d have to because even if he stayed, he couldn’t do it. Funny, the biggest ache was in his heart, not in his hand.
“I’ll let you know what the doctors say.”
“I’d appreciate it. And I’ll keep you posted on the progress with the house.”
It was all so cordial, so businesslike, so unlike the way they’d been right before the accident. A flash of anger tightened his jaw. After everything, on the cusp of goodbye, and all they could talk about was his hand and the house? He hadn’t even thought about the house much, not since Jordon absolutely, positively refused to take any money from its sale.
Seeing it finished and sold didn’t have the same allure, so he told her, “No rush now.”
She nodded. “Okay. You just get better, you hear?” And then her straight-backed business-like demeanor crumbled. Her shoulders drooped and her head tilted as she closed the gap between them to lay a hand on his cheek. “I won’t be happy until I see you larger than life on my big screen standing in the middle of centerfield.”
Hollow. That’s how he felt. Her hope felt somehow misplaced. He didn’t know if he’d ever be happy again. Losing baseball, losing her; it didn’t seem fair. God, he couldn’t believe he was back in this place again. The same dark hole he’d fallen into after Lindsay left with Dad. But this time, Grey refused to stay there long. He didn’t know how, but he’d find a way out.
Again he thought about touching Nel, but the execution seemed too awkward to bear, so he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. As far as kisses went, it was chaste, but for the first time in days he felt something other than pain and despair. Something good was buried beneath layers of fear and exhaustion. Buried, but it was there. And it gave him hope.
When the kiss ended, Nel blinked up at him, strumming her thumb across his cheekbone, keeping the “something good” humming. “I know it won’t fix anything. In fact, it might make things worse in the long run, but at the risk of not being able to say this to you in person for a long time … I love you.”
The unexpected words sort of hung there between them, like a sky-high pop-up. When a ball was high enough on the horizon, lost in the sun, Grey sometimes panicked, and his eyes got this weird tremor, like he’d never get a lock on the ball. He felt like that right now, facing Nel’s love, only instead of in his eyes, the tremor was in his heart. What was he supposed to do with an admission like that?
He hugged her, because it was at least something he could do to show her he appreciated her going out on a limb when he couldn’t find the courage to do the same. He felt a lot for her. Maybe it was love. But he was feeling a lot of other things, too … dark things; troublesome things. Things that had nothing to do with her, and he couldn’t wrap his head around any of it right now.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, a fierce sound, one that didn’t hint at any vulnerability. “You’ve got a lot facing you.”
How he wished he’d be facing it with her.
With his left arm wrapped around her shoulder, he led her from the room, down the hall to the elevators. She stepped out of his reach to push the lobby button on the control panel, but didn’t return to his side. She smiled at him while they rode to the lobby in silence, and he couldn’t help but think about the last time they were in an elevator together. An endless sadness swirled in his stomach.
When the bell rang and the doors slid open, Jordon was waiting by the revolving entrance. Grey didn’t want Jordon’s input on this goodbye, so he stopped and pinched the discharge papers between his right arm and right side, making an awkward grab at Nel with his left hand. It was a weaker grip than he was used to, but he still managed to haul her to him.
“I’ll see ya,” he said, kissing the top of her head. God only knew when. And Grey had no idea what sort of man he’d be then.
With her arms wrapped around his waist and his chin resting on the top of her, he closed his eyes and tried to soak her in, knowing when he walked out those doors with Jordon, nothing would feel good for a very long time.
• • •
Nel tossed a ball for the dogs that bolted from her side. She didn’t throw it nearly as far or as hard as Grey did, but Joker and Blackjack didn’t seem to mind. They wrestled mid-yard, battling for the prize, while Nel thought about Grey; about how strange it felt being here without him. Had it really only been a few days since the awkward-but-fierce goodbye at the hospital?
Sometimes — like now — she smelled him on the wind and had to fight the urge to spin around like an idiot. Other times, she swore she heard his heavy footsteps across the hardwood floors. Missing him was driving her crazy, but she had to believe it would get easier once she acclimated the dogs to her condo and moved on from this house.
“Your cell’s ringing.” Paul poked his head and arm around the French doors, wiggling the phone in his hands.
Nel attempted a whistle, which failed miserably. “Blackjack, Joker, come.” The artificially deep command was laughable, but it did the trick, and the dogs barreled toward her. She ushered them into the house while she grabbed the vibrating phone with the other.
She didn’t recognize the out-of-area caller, but her fluttering heart had her hoping it was Grey. When she answered, he confirmed it with a hey, babe.
Every single time she heard his voice, she melted. It didn’t matter where he was, where she was, or what was facing them, as long as he called her babe, she had hope they could somehow, some way, be happy together.
“Hey,” she said, smiling into the phone. “How’s Nashville?”
“Rainy.”
“There’s a five-degree wind chill here, and still I was outside throwing a ball.” She chuckled, but the sound caught in her throat when he was silent. It was a stupid, insensitive thing to say. Surely he’d weather anything to be throwing a ball.
“I’m glad they’re doing well for you,” he said.
“They are. I love ’em to pieces.” She smiled weakly, because she loved him, too, but not hearing him say it back was more than a little deflating.
Nel tried not to let Grey’s lack of openness about his feelings bother her. She reminded herself over and over again what happened between them was never supposed to be long-term. Her loving him was an accident that didn’t change the temporary nature of their time together — even if he loved her in return. What good would come of knowing he loved her, too, if they couldn’t be together? Still, she hoped, somehow …
“I’m going to North Carolina for a while,” he said.
“Oh.” Sadness displaced the joy she’d felt when she’d first answered the phone and heard his voice. For a minute there, somewhere between I’m going to and North Carolina she expected him to say I’m going to come home. Which made no sense whatsoever, because while he might be the owner of this house, it wasn’t his home. And it most certainly wasn’t hers.
“I have ten days before I start rehab here, and I need to see my new nephew. Plus, Jordon needs to get home and he’s refusing to leave m
e alone.”
“I think that’s a great idea.” For the first time since Nel met Jordon, she heartily agreed with him. The idea of Grey facing any of this alone thickened her sadness.
Her brothers buzzed around behind her, digging through the cupboards for the snacks she kept on hand while they finished up around the house. Joe nudged her aside to get to the fridge.
“Is that Grey?” he asked.
Nel nodded.
“Tell him if he wants us to keep working for him, he’s going to have to shell out for a keg-o-rator. It’s getting tiresome lugging in cases of beer.”
Grey actually laughed. “Tell him I heard that, and if his drunk ass gets hurt on the job, there’s no disability.”
Nel cringed. She didn’t want to think about anyone else getting hurt on this job. “You can tell him yourself,” she said, passing the phone to Joe.
While the men chatted about the progress on the house, Nel paced the kitchen, roughing hands over her face. Thank God she had an open house to prepare for tomorrow. That should keep her mind somewhat productive, not that being here, cleaning out the house, taking care of the dogs wasn’t productive.
But work kept her moving forward. Being here seemed to hold her back.
Joe thrust the phone in her direction, and she drew a deep breath before speaking. “Okay. Have a safe trip and a wonderful time with your nephew.”
“I’ll call you.”
“Okay.” Too many okays when everything was anything but.
• • •
The Nashville Argonauts announced today that Grey Kemmons will not be reporting to spring training due to a non-baseball related injury. Argos’ staff refused to specify the injury or surrounding circumstances. Kemmons is expected to miss …
The television screen went black.
“Hey, I was watching that,” Grey said to whomever was standing behind him while he lounged on the couch.
“Why would you want to?” Maggie rounded the sofa, the baby strapped to her chest with help from a psychedelic-print stretchy fabric.