Christmas Curveball

by Shari Mikels

  He’d shoo her out of his house as soon as they finished their drinks. He could get through a mug of steaming-hot liquid with her.

  “I’m hungry. What do you have to eat?”

  Or lunch. He could get through lunch with her, and then he’d make her leave. A definite plan. He could do this.

  * * *

  They fell in beside each other, easily setting up a system for making sandwiches with all the fixings. Rachel had never quite realized just how well she and Kevin flowed together. Each working on their own tasks, not needing to say much. Being around each other enough over the years meant that even though they hadn’t spent a ton of time together lately, they still knew each other.

  She couldn’t say the same about her ex and she wasn’t sure he could’ve ever said the same about her. These days, she could admit part of their problem had been Rachel’s fault. But the rest was squarely on his shoulders. Suppressing a shudder at the picture in her mind of what her ex had been doing the day she moved out, she worked to bring her thoughts back to the man beside her.

  The original man whore.

  As long as she kept Kevin’s behavior in mind, she could stick to her guns and keep him firmly in the off-limits bucket.

  Thinking of behavior, she’d never realized just how domestic an activity making sandwiches was. She had to make up her lunch each day for school and had been doing that for years, but no one else was ever around when that happened.

  Reaching for the knife at the same time he reached for the mayonnaise, their hands brushed against each other and a zing ripped up her hand and arm from the touch. Her gasp almost escaped.

  This was crazy. Yes, she’d had a crush on Kevin since she was a teenager and she’d been around him tons off and on through the years. Why did being alone with him in his house make a difference? And why was his touch now electrifying?

  To prove it was a fluke, she reached in front of him for another tomato for her sandwich. This time, the entire length of her forearm brushed against his and it burned. Before starting lunch, he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and she’d done the same. His skin branded hers, and she was in so much trouble.

  They stuck with safe topics throughout lunch, but now Rachel was ready for more. He’d asked about how teaching was going and she’d talked about the goings-on around town with people he might know. Nothing about him, though. Nothing. He’d carefully kept up a string of questions for her to answer. She was on to him now, though.

  When it looked like he was going to ask her another question, she preempted his attempt.

  “How’s the recovery going?”

  He flinched as if she’d hit him. The smile that had become more natural during lunch disappeared, replaced with a grim look.

  “It isn’t going as well as I would’ve liked.”

  “Are you still in significant pain?”

  “Enough to cause trouble. Are you all set now? Plenty of food and awake enough to drive back?”

  He was trying to get rid of her, and not very subtly so.

  “I need to visit the l—” She caught herself in time from saying little girls’ room. She didn’t need him thinking of her as Tim’s little sister, much less a little girl. They’d already fallen into too many old behavioral patterns, and she didn’t need to reinforce any more of them. “The ladies’ room.”

  “Sorry. I only have men’s rooms in this house. You’ll have to find one along the way home.”

  “Puh-lease. You’re telling me that none of your lady friends are allowed to use the bathroom here? How does that work with overnight slumber parties?” Why had she gone there? She didn’t want to know the details of his many...conquests. Although the thought helped keep her grounded in why he was off-limits to her. She didn’t want any more men like that.

  He frowned and narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t brought anyone here. Ever.”

  Oooo-kaaaay. Not sure what brought that defensiveness on. Baseball groupies weren’t exactly a secret.

  “Back to the fact that I still need to use the restroom before you succeed in throwing me out. Where is it?”

  “First door on the left on the other side of the great room.”

  Hmm. No denial to the throwing her out accusation.

  She walked slowly to the bathroom, admiring more of the decor on the way. Kevin looked fairly well moved in, and that gave her an idea for the next set of questions she could ask him.

  When she returned, she saw him standing by one of his couches.

  “How long have you been staying here, and why doesn’t anyone but my brother know?”

  “I just got into town a few days ago. And I’m not ready for anyone to know I’m here.”

  “But you’ve got plants outside, and you look pretty well settled with your furniture and stuff.”

  “I hired people to take care of the outside as well as the inside as soon as I bought this place.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded and pushed himself away from the couch.

  “How long are you planning on staying? I mean, do you have to continue with your physical therapy elsewhere? What are you supposed to do about spring training camp?”

  He let out a deep, resigned sigh, turned away from her and stared out the windows. He was silent so long, she didn’t think he’d answer her.

  With his back to her, he finally spoke. “I’ll be here from now on. There won’t be any spring training for me.”

  What? She couldn’t have heard that correctly. “No spring training? Why?”

  “Because the team let me go, that’s why. I’m through. I’m no longer a professional baseball player.”

  The frustration behind his words made itself known in his white-knuckled, clenched fists. Baseball had been his dream his whole life. Being a pro was the ultimate, living out everything he wanted to do in life. If he was hiding out here, rather than facing his family, then that meant he didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  At least that was her assumption. If she were in this position, she’d want sympathy and hugs and fussing over her. When Kevin was a teen, he’d shake off an injury and not want any attention drawn to it. Basically, he was in the same position now, so no coddling. She prayed her assumption was correct.

  “Well, crap. That sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “Is that why you’re hiding out here? Trying to figure out what you’re going to do next?”

  He turned to look at her, his shoulders slumped. He swallowed hard before answering. “Yeah, that’s part of the reason for being up here.”

  “Why don’t you want your family to know yet?”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “I have to call a news conference and I want to figure out something about my future before I get a million different opinions and options from everyone in the world, including my family.”

  “They love you and care for you. Of course they’re going to want to help you figure out what you can do next.”

  “I get that.” He looked back out the windows.

  “Are you at least going to tell them before Christmas?”

  His shoulders slumped more and he didn’t turn back around. “I’ll have to. The news conference needs to happen before Christmas and I know I can’t let them find out that way.”

  That was saying something; some part of him was thinking about the way his family would feel and not just the impact to himself.

  “Should you do that sooner rather than later?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could call them back. She was doing exactly what he didn’t want her to do, but it was too late.

  “My life’s been taken away from me and I don’t want to face anyone yet. I don
’t want to have to deal with what I’ve lost. Not now. Not yet. I know I don’t have to work right away, that I’m in a very enviable position compared to a lot of people out there, but I’ll go nuts if I don’t do something, and all I know is baseball.”

  There was no way she was putting up with that attitude. “I call bullshit.”

  He whipped back around. “Excuse me?”

  “Your life hasn’t been taken away from you. Your choice of career has been taken away from you.”

  “That is my life! You don’t understand. Baseball is my life. Was. I don’t get to do that anymore.” He began pacing. “If you lost your teaching job, you’d be able to get a teaching job elsewhere. I can’t do that. It. Is. Impossible.”

  She hadn’t seen him this frustrated since his college team lost the College World Series, but she couldn’t back down. He needed to face facts. Even though she didn’t want to be the one to force him to. Maybe she could just hug him and tell him everything would be okay. It would give her an excuse to touch him and then he wouldn’t have to hate her.

  But, no. She had to stick to her guns in case no one else had the courage to tell him what he needed to hear. He was probably so used to having yes-men all around him that he wasn’t going to get hit by reality. Well, more reality than having his career taken away from him. She wanted to cave, but forged on.

  “Yes. And now you can’t play professional baseball. But you can do other things that have to do with baseball.”

  Making a rude noise, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Like what?”

  “Coaching.”

  “I don’t want to coach pro baseball. That’s a whole different load of stressors.”

  “You are so close-minded that you’re stuck on professional baseball. No, maybe you don’t want to do that. I know for a fact that one of the local high schools needs a baseball coach because the current one had to retire in October due to health issues.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “Coach Bailey?”

  “No, Coach Danner.”

  “Coach Danner retired? Man.”

  “Yeah, so you know they’d love to have someone of your caliber come in and teach those kids.”

  He uncrossed his arms, put his hands in his jeans pockets. “Look, that isn’t for me. I’m okay with little kids when they’re coming up for signatures, but beyond that, no.”

  “Whatever. It’s not little kids, it’s high school kids.”

  “This is exactly what I was talking about. I don’t need a bunch of people trying to figure out what I can do next.”

  “Fine. How long have you been trying to figure this out on your own?”

  “Awhile.”

  “And how’s it gone so far?”

  “Not well.”

  “Good. You keep doing what you’ve been doing and see if it starts to give you different results at some point. You know that’s one of the definitions of insanity, right? In the meantime, get over yourself and accept help and suggestions from others.”

  “Have you always been this annoying?”

  “Probably. I’m a teacher. Although I don’t consider it annoying.”

  “You wouldn’t. You’re not the one who has to put up with you.”

  “I live with me all day long, every day. I like me. Now, give me a tour of the rest of this amazing house.”

  “Don’t you need to get going?”

  “Nope, I’m good. I want a tour. Lead the way.”

  Instead, he fell in beside her and put his hand on her lower back. The touch was the most natural feeling in the world right then, and she didn’t think she would’ve even noticed it, except for the heat his hand transferred to her skin, even through her clothing. Talk about being branded.

  He guided her around the house, his hand finding her back—sometimes upper, sometimes lower—each time they moved from room to room. A master bedroom resided on the first floor, as well as a huge combination mud and laundry room.

  He led her around the upstairs and she saw a second master bedroom that stretched from two of the windows she’d seen on the front of the house, all the way to the back of the house. It was huge. He’d turned one of the bedrooms into what looked like the start of a home office. Other than the windows overlooking the southeast view, the home was a traditional mountain house, wood and natural colors used as the main decorative elements throughout.

  They finished the tour, and Rachel loved every bit of the house. It was her dream home without her ever realizing she had an idea of what she wanted in her ideal home.

  “Are you going to have your parents move in with you?”

  He chuckled at that. “No, I can’t see my mom wanting to leave the city anytime soon.”

  “Yeah, true. So which master bedroom are you using?”

  “The one on the first floor.”

  “Why?” She wasn’t trying to be a pest, but she honestly wanted to know why.

  He almost outright laughed. “Why do you care?”

  “’Cause I’m nosy?” And I want to stay here talking with you as long as possible.

  “There’s plenty of room for me on this floor. Until there’s a reason for me to use the upstairs on a regular basis, it doesn’t make sense for me to let this bedroom down here stay empty.”

  “Got it.”

  She’d done nothing but ask him questions after lunch. Well, and badger him, but she hadn’t meant to turn into an interrogator. Or maybe she had, since her brain kept coming up with too many questions and not enough answers.

  Chapter Three

  Ideas for how she could spend more time with him were quickly running out. She still wanted to check out the yard and find out how much of the woods surrounding the house were actually his, but rain had started falling heavier right after lunch, and it hadn’t let up. She might not get a chance to look around today, but that gave her a good excuse to come back.

  “Well, thanks for the tour. Your house is beautiful and I think you’ve done a great job making it a home.”

  “Thanks.”

  Not exactly helpful in prolonging the visit.

  “Okay, well, I guess I better get going. I hope you’ll make your presence known soon, so I can stop keeping this secret.”

  He grunted in response. Well, okay then.

  “So, bye.”

  “Drive safe.”

  Ugh. After all those little touches, she thought he might do...something. Anything.

  Frustrated and a little angry at herself for caring when she’d strictly told herself not to, Rachel tromped down the porch steps. Not paying attention to anything but her thoughts, she almost lost her footing, and caught herself before going all the way down on her butt. Righting herself, she took another step onto the pavers. The slick pavers finished the job the steps started, knocking her flat on her ass and causing her to slide through the little bushes into the sopping wet yard, with her pants legs sliding up. She came to a stop as her head landed with a thud on the edge of the paver closest to her. She’d never been more thankful for the fuzzy-lined coat hood. The extra thickness probably saved her from a nasty cut and concussion.

  That same fuzzy hood flipped back away from her face, though, and the rain hit her with great force. Except it wasn’t just rain.

  “Freezing rain. Crap.”

  She heard the door open behind her.

  “Rach? You okay?”

  “Stop. This is freezing rain. The steps are solid ice.”

  “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

  She tried getting up, but slipped.

  Kevin hadn’t been gone but a few seconds when she heard the door open. She tried getting to her feet again, but her body ached and it felt like she’d twisted her ankle. She didn’t think it was sprained, but it did hurt.

  Stron
g arms wrapped around her back and under her legs.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “What about—”

  “I put a salt and slag mix on the steps. See? Put your arms around my neck and hang on.”

  “No! What about your arm?”

  “I’ll be fine. You’re probably hurt worse than I am right now.”

  She doubted it, but wasn’t going to argue. Looping her arms around the back of his neck and tucking her face against the side of his neck, she breathed him in deeply, something she’d wanted to do for too long. This would just add to her nighttime fantasies. Who was she kidding? Her daytime fantasies too. His chest and arms created a blanket of warmth around her, his hands hot through the icy wetness of her jeans.

  He successfully carried her up the steps to his porch, but he didn’t put her down. He kicked open his front door and kept going.

  “Put me down. You’re probably damaging your arm.”

  “Hush.”

  The word came out more tenderly than she’d ever heard from him, and it did funny things to her insides. A nice distraction from all the bumps and bruises her body was forming. Still, he was the one who’d lost his job because of the condition his arm was in.

  “But—”

  * * *

  “I’m not doing anything to it.” Kevin didn’t care whether he was injuring his arm further or not. All that mattered at that moment was holding her, getting to carry her. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo, at least he was assuming it was her shampoo. She always smelled like berries, and he loved it. He’d even taken to adding berries to his breakfast. Freaking sick puppy mooning over someone he couldn’t have and had no business even thinking about.

  Kevin set her down on the hearth by his fireplace. “Here, I’ll get the fire going better to warm you up, and then we can get those wet clothes off of you.”

  He froze. No, he would not think about getting her out of her clothes. Although there was no way he could let her sit there shivering in her current clothes. This was not what he needed to try retaining any kind of grip on his sanity.

  “You don’t happen to have an extra pair of clothes in your car that I can get, do you?”