Four Christmas Matchmakers

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “If you put it on the pan like that,” Sienna told him critically, “we won’t even be able to tell what it is!”

  Hazel giggled and gave the only guy in the room a sympathetic look. “Santa’s face is kind of lumpy!”

  Cade shot Allison an apologetic look that only she could see, then turned his attention back to the quadruplets. “You’re all right.” Cade sighed, spatula filled with half an unbaked cookie still in hand. “It is a problem.”

  Able to see an intervention was needed, Allison eased in. Had it been any other man doing such a bad job, she would have assumed he was messing up on purpose to get out of what had turned into a four-hour marathon, with only a brief break for a pizza dinner. But Cade had been trying his best. Up to now, fairly successfully.

  She put her hand over his wrist and felt the tension in his forearm that did not appear to be in the rest of his body. Maybe because this was his pitching arm, the one he’d had a second arthroscopic surgery on just a few months prior. “Allow me?”

  His big body relaxed and he dipped his head in obvious relief. “Be my guest.”

  Happy to help him out the way he’d been aiding her, she eased the dough back onto the board. Patted it gently into the original shape. “It’s still lumpy,” Jade said.

  Allison agreed. She also knew the girls were on the verge of becoming crabby with fatigue. “We’ll just reroll out this small section of dough. But the rest can go on the cookie pan, I think.” The oven timer buzzed, and she looked over at Cade. “Can you get that for me?”

  “Sure.” He grabbed a mitt and went to the wall oven. The pan was halfway out when he hissed unexpectedly and it tilted downward a good forty-five degrees. Somehow, he managed to get the baking sheet over to the ceramic stovetop to cool without dropping it entirely. But several cookies slid off in the process, splatting as they hit the floor. Zeus, who had been resting nearby, looked over with interest.

  “Don’t even think about it, buddy,” Cade warned, using the mitt to pick up the ruined treats. He set the broken pieces on the stove next to the pan. “We don’t want you burning your mouth.”

  Zeus put his head back down.

  In unison, the girls frowned at Cade, clearly not understanding what the problem was. “You ruined some of our cookies, Mr. Cade!” Jade scolded.

  “That’s not nice!” Amber’s lower lip slid out petulantly.

  “I agree.” Allison stepped in. “Mr. Cade!” she declared with enough drama to make him grin. She grabbed the swell of bicep on his uninjured arm. “You’re going to have to sit down.” She guided his big resisting form toward one of the breakfast-table chairs.

  Realizing what she was up to, Cade dragged his feet. “I can still help,” he insisted stubbornly.

  “Nope. I’m putting you in time-out!” Allison declared, playing it up in order that the ruined cookies would be all but forgotten.

  He let his jaw drop and played out his part in return. “No fair, Miss Allison!” He pouted.

  The girls began to giggle.

  “You’re clearly overtired,” Allison said, wagging her finger in his handsome face.

  The girls giggled even more.

  Cade folded his arms in front of him and thrust out his lower lip defiantly. Feeling guilty she hadn’t recognized he was suffering discomfort sooner, Allison crossed her own arms and glared back. “How long do I have to sit here?” he asked.

  Until your arm feels better, Allison thought. “Five minutes. In the meantime...” She turned to the girls, stunned at how long it had taken just to get as far as they had, with two dozen cookies completely decorated and two more dozen merely baked. Never mind how much mess they had made, with flour and frosting and bits of dough clinging to the island and floor and cabinet fronts. “I think it’s time for you all to clean up and get ready for bed.”

  Surprisingly, they didn’t argue with her. “Can Mr. Cade read us a story tonight?” Sienna asked gleefully.

  “I want to hear Llama Llama Holiday Drama!” Hazel said.

  Allison sent him a questioning look. An affable grin deepened the crinkles around his eyes. “I’m up for that.” And so much more, it seemed.

  “Sounds perfect,” she said.

  * * *

  “Girls asleep?” Cade asked fifteen minutes later.

  Allison nodded, glad they were at the point where she could concentrate on just him instead of four girls, a dog and a baking project that had turned out to be way too complicated for their age group. “Almost before their heads hit the pillows. Zeus is upstairs, too, on his cushion, snoring away.”

  Cade rose from the sofa. She noticed his cheeks were slightly ruddy, which could have been from the time he had spent working outside with his dad that morning, but the rest of his face was pale in the way that usually signaled pain.

  “Poor guy,” he declared huskily, as he followed her into the kitchen. “It was a long day for him.”

  “I know.” Allison motioned for Cade to sit on one of the stools. When he did, she went to the pantry. Emerging with a Ziploc plastic bag, she went straight to the freezer. Able to feel his gaze on her, she began filling the gallon bag with ice. “It was a long day for you, too.”

  As she turned, she saw he had his flannel shirt off and was trying to ease off the thermal T-shirt, as well. Which wasn’t easy, since he seemed to be having difficulty raising his injured shoulder enough to free it. “And you need to let me do that!”

  Worried he would hurt himself all the more, she brought the ice back to him, then helped him get the shirt all the way off. Which left him bare-chested. A situation that would be perfect for the proper application of ice. Not so perfect for her, however, when she was trying hard not to be so physically attracted to him. She swallowed at the sight of all that satiny-smooth skin on his broad shoulders and muscular back, the strip of dark hair that covered the center of his chest and arrowed down into the waistband of his jeans. Which wouldn’t have been so bad had she not known from personal experience just how magnificently built the rest of him was.

  Oblivious to the reason behind her discomfiture, he caught her hand before she could apply the bag of ice. He searched her face. “Why do you have to do this?”

  Their fingers brushed as she reluctantly handed it over to him. “Because you’re obviously in pain, silly.”

  He scoffed, all virile man. “How do you know?”

  She noticed he didn’t outright deny it. Which was good. She met and held his gaze. “By the poor way you handled a spatula and nearly dropped the cookie sheet at the end.”

  “Okay. You win. My shoulder hurts like the dickens.”

  “You should have mentioned it earlier.”

  “I didn’t want to put a damper on the fun.” His lips set. “Does Sarabeth have any tape, do you know?”

  Allison went to the catchall drawer. There in the back was a big roll of bright blue masking tape. She held it up for him to see. “Will this do?”

  “Yes.” He looped the bag of ice over his rotator cuff and then drew out a long piece of tape. She held the bag in place for him while he secured it. She hadn’t done this for him in years, and the action brought back a lot of memories, most of them good.

  What would it have been like had they stayed together all these years instead of split up? Would they be as quarrelsome as Shawn and Sarabeth? Or would they have found a way to come together, in harmony, the way they had the past two days? Allison sighed. Why was she suddenly looking back? She had put their romantic past behind them. Or she thought she had, until he had kissed her again and stirred up all the deliberately forgotten feelings.

  Now that he had gotten the ice in place, she went to get his flannel shirt. She held it out so he could slip his good arm into the sleeve. Then she draped the rest around his broad shoulders and brought the fabric down over his chest, covering as much as she could.

  “Are you
in this much pain a lot?”

  He settled farther back on the stool, his long legs braced on either side of him. “Almost never.”

  “Why today, then? Is it due to all the activity at the ranch, helping your dad? Or your torn rotator cuff and subsequent surgeries?”

  Cade’s eyes darkened. “Probably both,” he admitted, scowling. “And what do you know about the latter?”

  She had never liked it when he put her on the spot like this. She rummaged around in the cupboard until she found the first-aid kit, then brought out small bottles of ibuprofen and acetaminophen. He took three tablets from the first.

  She handed him a glass of water, aware he was still waiting for her to answer.

  Shrugging, Allison met his gaze equably. “All I know is what I read in the news and heard on the grapevine here.”

  “Which was what?” he probed.

  She moved to make him a cup of coffee, in the Keurig, knowing that hot liquid would help the medicine he had just taken dissolve and absorb faster. “You got hurt, pitching.”

  He studied her, guessing correctly that she had kept up with his life and career a lot more than she would like to let on. “Mmm-hmm.” His attention drifted to her lips before returning with slow deliberation to her eyes. “What else?” He caught the filled mug she pushed at him, wordlessly shaking his head no when she gestured at the cream and sugar. Then searched her face.

  Pulse accelerating, Allison concentrated on making a cup of coffee for herself and remained silent.

  He moved into her sight line. “Tell me.” He cupped the mug between his hands, but lifted it to his mouth with his uninjured arm.

  She stirred cream and sugar into her decaf. Then, figuring it was best he get off his feet, she grabbed the plate of cookies and moved to sit beside him. Maybe it was time she heard his side of the story. “There was gossip on some of the blogs that cover the Wranglers.”

  He listened, his eyes gleaming with undecipherable emotion.

  She handed him a cookie and took one for herself, too. “Apparently, some of the sportswriters talked to the Wranglers’ general manager, who hinted that the end of your career was all your fault, because you took an unnecessary risk coming back too soon.”

  He continued to study her with his steady gaze, as if trying to figure something out. “I’m sure the GM would say that.”

  “You didn’t get along with him.”

  His powerful body tensed and he oozed testosterone. “Not at the end, no.”

  Her heart skittered in her chest. “Why not? I mean, you get along with everyone.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Aware it was going to be very hard to really get to know who he was now, if he didn’t willingly confide in her, Allison drew a breath. She refused to get sucked in by the blatant sexiness of his gaze. “I understand complicated,” she told him quietly. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t want us to be all that close, I understand that, too.”

  * * *

  To Cade’s surprise, he wanted her to know the whole sordid story. Maybe because he knew she was the one person on this earth who would understand why he had acted the way he had.

  Knowing the only way to ease the throbbing in his shoulder was to try to relax while the ice did its trick, he took her by the hand and led her into the living room and settled with her on the sofa. Keeping her palm in his, he gave her the recap of events. “The Wranglers had a good year and were headed for the playoffs, but they needed all their pitchers back if they were going to make it past the division championship.”

  She toed off her flats and tucked her black tights-clad legs beneath her. “Especially you, because you were their very best.”

  Unable to help noting how feminine and delicate her hand was, he turned her palm over, resting it on his thigh, and traced the lifeline with the pad of his thumb. “Right.”

  “But you were still recovering from your first surgery.”

  He nodded, loving the intent way she always listened to him. “I was also itching to go back. I’d been out for months. I wanted to play. The problem was, I knew the team doctors weren’t going to green-light me just yet. But I also had the option to choose my own physician, and—” this was the hard part “—it was suggested to me if I went to a certain Fort Worth orthopedist, she would give me the okay. And that if she did, Wranglers management would look the other way and accept her decision.”

  Allison paled. “Even though she shouldn’t have said you were ready to play again?”

  Cade wasn’t about to cast blame. “She wasn’t ignoring her Hippocratic oath. There was a fifty-fifty chance, either way. I could go back and everything would be great, and I’d pick up where I left off in my career, no problem.” Which was what Cade had hoped with all his heart would happen. “Or I could return and it would end up being too soon and the stress of playing would cause me to exacerbate my previous injury.”

  “Which is what happened in the end.”

  “Unfortunately, yeah. The thing is, there was no way to know with any certainty. Unless I did go back.”

  Shifting closer to him, Allison cupped both her hands around his palm. She looked into his eyes. “Was the team pressuring you?”

  Cade exhaled. “Let’s just say I knew what they wanted,” he admitted acerbically.

  For a moment, she was silent, thinking. “What would have happened had you not gone to see that particular doctor?”

  Cade grimaced. “I would have had to abide by the team doctors and wait until the healing was further along. The season would have been over...which meant I would have missed my chance to pitch in the playoffs.” He blew out a breath. “And with one of the other Wranglers pitchers out, too, they really needed me in the rotation. So I did what I wanted to do anyway, which was play, and I stepped up.”

  “And got hurt again in your third game back.”

  Cade nodded, remembering the moment when he’d felt his rotator cuff give out. The searing pain that had made him first double over, then sink to the ground. The loud collective gasp and then the utter heartrending silence of the crowd.

  “I saw it on TV,” she admitted, tearing up as she recalled. “Not during the game. But after...on the news...in replays.”

  “Yeah.” He had to grit his teeth at the memory. “It was pretty damn awful.”

  “Did you know at the time how bad it was? Or did you have to wait to get to the ER to find out?”

  He thought about the way he had silently cussed himself out in the ambulance, over and over again. The regret had been deeper and more devastating than the physical pain. “I didn’t have to hear the doctors say it. I knew I was never going to be able to throw at the same level again.”

  Allison fell silent, her fingers tightening consolingly over his. Then, to his surprise, she leaned into his side, the way she always had when they were a couple.

  “So you quit.” She let out a long sigh and rested her head on his uninjured shoulder.

  Cade figured if he was going to be honest, he might as well tell her everything. “More like I was shown the door.”

  She turned to better see his face, her bent knee nudging his thigh. “Just like that?” She looked horrified. “After eight years with the team?”

  He knew she wanted him to tell her everyone had been there to comfort him. That his teammates had been as devastated as his family. And yeah, the other players had all been sorry for him, briefly, but they had to focus on their own performance and move on. Just as he had done when others had left the Wranglers in the past.

  “It’s the way professional sports works.”

  “They just cut you free without trying to make something work?”

  Cade scoffed. “Like a front-office job or something in marketing?”

  “Or I don’t know.” She gestured inanely. “Assistant field manager or something.”

/>   He reached for his coffee. It had gotten cold. He drank it anyway. “A position given out of pity would have only made me more miserable.” Able to see she still didn’t understand, he said gruffly, “Look, you can either do what they need you to do or you can’t. And if you can’t, you pack your bags and go. That’s the way it is and always has been.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Me, too, Cade thought. But there was no going back, no asking for a do-over for that part of his life, anyway. In other arenas, he might have a chance to make things right. Like right here, right now. With her. At least that was what the most idealistic part of him hoped. “I would have had to move on eventually,” he told her practically, “so...I’m moving on.”

  Funny, she didn’t look as unhappy as he had figured she would, given the loss of his career and everything that went with it. The fame, the money...

  Allison nodded her understanding. Pushed on. “So how is your shoulder now?” she asked gently. “Is the ice helping?”

  He liked her fussing over him. Just as he liked fussing over her. He winked. “You tell me.” He moved the bag and put her hand where the ice had been.

  As her palm flattened over the bunched muscles in his chest, a mischievous twinkle appeared in her eyes. “I can see you’re recovering,” she said dryly. Still, she left her palm where it was. “Enough to drive home?”

  That was the last place he wanted to be. Wishing he didn’t want to haul her close and make love to her quite so badly, he coaxed her with a smile. “You don’t want to hang out a little while longer?”

  For a moment, he thought she might say yes. Then she pulled herself together and shook her head, dispelling the flirtatious mood between them. “We’re going to have the kids 24/7 for the next two days,” she told him soberly. “Which means tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”

  But a good one, if they were together. He let his glance linger on her softly parted lips. “Still want my help?”