Back on Track: Strangers on a Train

by Donna Cummings

  She had thought coming up with one lie would be the tricky part of this whole scenario. Now she had to figure out whether to act like she believed him or thought he was lying.

  The only thing she knew for sure was she couldn’t blow this opportunity. The calendar was way more important than ending her dating slump.

  She glanced again at his baseball cap. “Matt Kearns.” She tapped a finger against her lips, then tilted her head to the side. “Isn’t he the one who catches footballs or something?”

  His eyebrows shot up with obvious surprise, and she thought he growled before saying, “He’s a pitcher. With one of the best arms in the league. An ERA of 2.92, and three-time winner of the Cy Young award.”

  Allie covered up a smile. “Oh, him. Now I know who you’re talking about. That’s a good one. Funny you should mention him.” She leaned forward and looked from side to side before whispering, “I dated him for a while.”

  He choked on his wine. “Seriously? You dated m— I mean, Matt Kearns?”

  Allie nodded, watching the puzzlement float across his features.

  This was way too much fun, this lying thing. Only now she had a good reason for it. He was trying to stay incognito, keeping a low profile, and who could blame him? It was a funny way of going about it, telling her who he was, but maybe the hiding-in-plain-sight thing worked for him sometimes. Who would expect a famous pitcher to be on the wine train? Allie certainly hadn’t.

  After his injury-ending season, everyone in the world wanted to know what Matt Kearns was going to do next. If she had anything to say about it, he’d be taking off his shirt to pose for her calendar.

  “Wow.” Matt blinked, several times. “You dated Matt Kearns.”

  He couldn’t believe it. He’d actually encountered somebody who didn’t know him. And to his huge surprise, he’d gotten defensive about it, reeling off his stats like a rookie, trying to impress her rather than worrying about her being a completely delusional fangirl.

  He looked at her, enjoying the open, fresh-faced expression she wore. She wasn’t anything like the groupies who normally followed him around, trying to get his attention—well, except for that aura of sexiness that surrounded her. Of course he was attracted to her, but that wasn’t the interesting part. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so intrigued.

  They were two people enjoying a glass of wine on a leisurely train ride for a few short hours while they told each other lies. Or things that sounded like lies.

  He sat back in his chair, relaxed for the first time in weeks. This was going to be a great afternoon.

  “So,” he said, “what was it like, dating a famous baseball guy?”

  Her eyes were filled with mischief when she answered, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Great. Now all he could think about was kissing her. He actually envied the fictional version of himself, the one she’d dated, even though it had never happened.

  “He’s probably happy about your policy.”

  Matt leaned forward, tempted to steal a kiss. Her lips were pink and pouty and filled with all kinds of promise.

  “So?” Allie prompted.

  His heart lurched for a brief second, as if she’d read his mind and was urging him to move things along.

  To his relief, she laughed, asking, “How’d you come up with that whopper? Since the Matt Kearns thing was obviously a lie. I’m surprised you started with that one.”

  He chuckled. “What makes you think it’s a lie?”

  Allie sat back and covered her mouth—which was a shame, since it was so sexy—and she shook with laughter.

  “I dated him, remember?”

  He shrugged, trying his best to look sheepish. “Can you blame a guy for trying?”

  “Not at all. I loved it.” She smiled. “It’s going to make it tricky to top that one, though.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he answered, lacing his fingers behind his head. He could have outed her right then and there, exposing her falsehood and declaring her the grand champion of the lying game.

  But this was fun. She was fun. All of a sudden, he was hoping the train ride wouldn’t go so fast. It had been too long since he’d had an easy, relaxed time like this.

  And he didn’t have to hide his identity from her. Hell, he’d come right out and told her who he was. He’d done it as a test, to see how she’d react. He never expected her to say she had dated his imaginary self.

  “You can’t think of anything else?”

  Matt couldn’t think about anything but her and the couple of hours he had to enjoy her company, sipping wine and telling tall tales. Who knew those would be the ingredients for a perfect day?

  He almost told her he’d lived in fourteen different states, or that he’d shaken the hands of three different US presidents. They were both true, but he decided on something else instead.

  “I haven’t dated for a while.”

  She gazed at him, her eyes slightly narrowed as she considered his last statement. It was the truth, but anyone who paid attention to the press surrounding Matt Kearns might consider it a lie. Women found him attractive, and he usually had a beauty accompanying him to his various public appearances. But he didn’t have anyone in his life right now. It would be great to have someone like her, a woman who was sexy and funny and easy to be with.

  Even if she was lying through her teeth.

  “Okay, so you’re Matt Kearns.” Allie snickered, which seriously ruffled his feathers for some reason. “And you haven’t dated for a while.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to come up with at least one non-lie. What else have you got?”

  “I find you very intriguing.”

  That was definitely the truth, and he could see from the look in her eyes that she was both shocked and delighted by that statement. She blushed a little. Which made him want to know more about her.

  “I’m not sure you’re playing this game the way it was intended,” she chided.

  “Maybe not. But I’m having a helluva lot of fun with it.”

  Matt reached across and picked up her hand. She shivered but tried to hide it. He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand. He was about to suggest they move to one of the tables across the way, needing to be closer than the club chairs permitted, wanting to talk with her more intimately—when his worst nightmare appeared.

  A group of college-aged guys came barreling down the carpeted aisle, laughing and chattering. Not the typical wine-train crowd. One of the young men glanced his way and did a double take. Matt shook his head in a silent plea, but he was too late or the guy was too filled with wine to understand the request.

  Matt stood up, Allie’s hand gripped in his. “Let’s go.”

  Fortunately, she didn’t hesitate.

  Chapter Three

  Allie loved the feel of his hand in hers, and even though he was racing through the train, obviously to duck some overzealous fans, it gave her a chance to check out the rear view of his fantastic physique while he tried to find someplace for them to hide.

  “This used to happen all the time when I dated Matt Kearns,” she said.

  He turned around and grinned. “So you should know all the tricks.”

  “And evasive maneuvers,” she added. “Here.”

  She saw an alcove that looked like it held luggage, or possibly supplies. He gave her a look that made her think he had more than evasive maneuvers on his brain. She nearly melted on the spot. But to her surprise, he shook his head. Instead, they kept barreling forward, and all she could do was hold on tight and hope he knew where he was going. At some point, they would reach the end of the train, and the fans would catch up to them.

  Allie wanted to stay away from them as much as he did. She didn’t want them forcing him to confess he really was Matt Kearns. He was having way too much fun pretending he was the superstar. And if he confessed, she would have to as well—if she wanted him to be halfway amenable to her pitch about the calendar.

  He obviously knew she hadn’t
dated him, but he seemed to enjoy the subterfuge. Probably because it let him stay incognito, getting to act like a regular guy with a girl who didn’t know who the hell Matt Kearns was.

  Allie nearly groaned. How had this gotten so complicated? From one simple lie meant to improve her dating prospects? No wonder she wasn’t good at this dating stuff. There were way too many elements to keep track of.

  Her mind was in such a whirl, she didn’t have a chance to pay close attention to where they were going. They passed through the Silverado Car, a Western-themed area complete with steer horns on the red walls. Matt paused and shook his head before continuing forward at what was obviously an easy pace for him, thanks to those long legs of his.

  Allie pulled more air into her lungs. It was hard keeping up with a world-class athlete. Clearly, she spent too much time behind her desk. She made a mental note to see about extending her gym membership.

  They finally stopped at the Vista Dome Car, a two-level car with a bubble window overhead designed to showcase Napa’s finest vineyards and the cloudless blue sky.

  “This ought to work,” Matt said, his voice filled with satisfaction. He stood in front of the carpeted stairs leading to the dining area, a metal chain draped across the entrance.

  Allie tugged at his hand. “The sign says Private.”

  “Perfect,” he said with a wicked grin. “I could use some private time with you.”

  Allie’s giggle was a soft, sexy sound that had Matt thinking he wouldn’t mind a ton of private time, not to mention something with a hell of a lot more privacy. For now, he’d make do with a corner booth in the dining car.

  He moved the chain and, still holding Allie’s hand, sprinted to the top of the stairs. His heart raced—not from the exertion, but from the thought of spending an uninterrupted hour with the beautiful and sexy liar known as Allie. His thoughts were so far into the future he almost plowed into an imposing maître d’, who wore a dark blue suit and a scowl. Matt bit back a curse. He’d bumped chests with umps who were less forbidding.

  “Do you have reservations?” the man asked. His tone of voice said he knew the answer was no, and he’d have no qualms about turning the both of them away.

  “Uh, no.” Matt took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I usually do, but this time…” He glanced back at Allie, his eyebrows lifting quickly, asking her to play along.

  She nodded, making him feel relieved…until she blurted out, “Why don’t you tell him you’re Matt Kearns?”

  He shushed her in case she drew a crowd and pulled her closer to his side. His body had no complaints. Well, just one. There wasn’t anything he could do except wish they had someplace else to go. The curves he’d only admired from a distance previously were now pressed against him, and it made him lightheaded, not to mention wracked with desire.

  “He’s Matt Kearns,” Allie said in a stage whisper.

  Matt laughed, a theatrical sound, and gave a broad wink to the maître d’, who was now examining his face like he expected to have to describe it later to a police sketch artist. Matt leaned in and whispered, “Help a buddy out, can ya? I told her that, you know, as part of my game.”

  The maître d’ looked a little more forbidding. Matt saw out of the corner of his eye that Allie was gesturing to the man. Whatever she did, it seemed to make the man thaw a tiny bit. In fact, Matt could swear his lips lifted in the briefest smile. “No problem. Right this way, sir.”

  Matt exhaled his relief and turned toward Allie. “What did you do to convince him?”

  A slow, sexy smile appeared. “What makes you think I did anything?”

  “I saw you doing something. I’m just not sure what it was.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter. If you keep dawdling, we’re going to lose our nonexistent reservation.”

  The food was incredible, the sort of gourmet experience Allie rarely indulged in, since she usually ate takeout in her office while working into the wee hours. And sitting across from the most handsome man she’d ever met, chatting about the luscious scenery while drinking glasses of Napa’s finest—well, that was definitely another plus to the whole dating thing.

  She’d never think of an amuse-bouche the same way again.

  Matt set down his fork. “I want to hear more about you and Matt Kearns.”

  Allie nearly choked on the roast chicken she’d just put in her mouth.

  “I’m starting to think you’ve got a crush on him,” she said as innocently as she could. “Or you’re a stalker.”

  It was his turn to choke. He dabbed at his mouth with the linen napkin. “I’m trying to figure out what was wrong with the man if he let you get away.”

  “You are too sweet,” she answered, enjoying the compliment. And she had to admit, she liked the back-and-forth banter they had going between them. It made it easier to rid herself of the bad-dating mojo than she’d expected.

  Of course, lying wasn’t the usual cure for relationship woes.

  “I mean it,” Matt said. “He didn’t deserve you.”

  “Everyone always thinks he’s the one who ended things. But he’s not. I did.”

  “I knew it. I’ll bet he’s a selfish blowhard, the kind that’s always talking about himself.”

  “In the third person,” she said primly, taking a bite of risotto.

  He laughed. “I wouldn’t have guessed that about him.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty you wouldn’t expect. Believe me.”

  He leaned forward, his eyes pinning her to the spot. “Too bad you won’t kiss and tell. You’ve got to have some great stories.”

  “I do.” She drew the words out, hoping it would seem as if she was reluctant to spill the beans. She didn’t know anything about the man, obviously, so the best she could do was make up outrageous stuff that would keep him entertained. He knew he was hearing lies about himself, but he was such a good sport about it.

  “He’s probably got all kinds of weird superstitions too,” Matt said with a great deal of glee in his voice. “Does he wear mismatched socks that haven’t been washed in months? To keep a winning streak alive?”

  She shook her head, biting back a smile.

  “Really?”

  “No. He wore smiley-face footie socks. With a tiny pompon in the back.”

  He choked but covered it up with a cough into his fist. “Why would he do that?”

  “He said it made him happy.”

  “Those crazy sports stars.”

  She sighed, theatrically. “I know. It was maddening at times.”

  “Is it why you broke up with him?”

  “No. I didn’t mind the socks. They came in handy, actually, when I couldn’t find any of my own to wear.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  The waiter stopped by before she could add anything else. “Did you save room for dessert?”

  “Yes, definitely.” Matt pushed his empty plate away. The beef tenderloin had looked scrumptious, but Allie wondered if the tiny portion had come close to filling his stomach—even with the roasted potatoes and green beans added to the mix.

  “We’ve got some wonderful dessert wines.” The waiter described an ice wine that sounded luscious and sweet and completely indulgent. Allie opened her mouth to decline, but Matt had other ideas.

  “We’ll have a bottle of that as well,” he said.

  “I hope there’s a sleeping car. I’ll need it after this.” Matt’s eyes lit up, and Allie couldn’t hope to stop the blush. “I mean because of all the good food and wine—”

  “Me too,” he said, but his eyes were putting the lie to that statement. He had something else in mind, and now she couldn’t think of anything but that either. She fussed with the napkin on her lap for a few seconds while she tried to regain her composure.

  “So, the reason you broke up with Matt,” he prompted.

  Allie grabbed the glass of sparkling water, needing a diversionary maneuver. She’d told so many outrageous tales already. Now she was starting to run
out of stories to tell. She searched her brain, and it finally came to her.

  The perfect opportunity.

  “Well, Matt’s a great guy. There’s no doubt about that.”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “But—”

  “What?” He seemed nervous, although he tried to hide it. It made her feel bad about deceiving him when he thought she was about to say something awful.

  “Well, there was this charity that asked him to participate in their project. And he kept refusing to do it.”

  “He must have had his reasons.” His demeanor got stiffer, but Allie pressed on. It would be easier to broach the subject of him posing for the cover of the calendar later if she could warm him up to the idea of helping out some anonymous charity now.

  “I know,” she said with a wistful sigh. “But it was for such a good cause.”

  “I bet he gets asked to do a ton of those things. He can’t possibly do all of them. How many of them are even legit, you know?”

  “That’s exactly what Matt said!”

  He smiled, but it was still a little tense. “Well, I can understand how he would feel. Nobody likes to be taken advantage of.”

  “True.” She pushed away the guilt niggling at her. “I was hoping he would discuss it with me.” She debated whether to tell him more about how the greyhounds were being rescued since they couldn’t race anymore, but she decided she’d done enough for the moment. Plus, she didn’t know for certain how much his manager had told him about the project. “Anyway, it caused a bit of friction between us, so I thought it best if we took a break.”

  He leaned forward, clasping both her hands in his. “So you didn’t break up with him? You’re just taking a break?”

  Now she was getting confused. Especially with his intense blue eyes gazing at her like that. It wasn’t easy to tell stories to someone while imbibing alcohol. It was much harder to do when she was telling the stories about that someone.

  It almost seemed as if he wanted her to have broken up with Matt Kearns so he could have a chance with her.