Caught Looking

by Holford, Jody;

  “She is that. I won’t disagree. C’mere,” Ryan said, hoping his tone was neutral.

  Carter stacked another piece of wood and ambled over. Ryan was able to stop himself from telling the kid to pull up his damn pants only because of a quick flashback to his skinny-leather-tie days when he’d also thought he was too cool. Carter’s gasp of appreciation was well worth the stitch of pain that lodged in Ryan’s chest as he looked at the slender, sleek ash-based bat. In his mind, he could hear the satisfying crack that sounded when he connected with the ball. It was slightly thicker than regulation but he hadn’t used it on the field.

  Carter reached out to run a finger along the wood, but stopped and looked at Ryan, who nodded. “Dude, where did you get this? Holy shit, is that your name?”

  It had been a gift from his brother—a specially made bat with Ryan’s name engraved into the sweet spot of the wood. He didn’t use it often, but he loved it. Loved the feel of the wood when he wrapped his fingers around the handle. Loved the sound when it connected with the ball and the feel of the hit singing up his arms all the way to his shoulders.

  “Yeah. I used to play,” Ryan said.

  Carter moved his hand when Ryan shut the box and once more, Ryan felt like he was closing the door on the past. He wondered how many times he would have to before it stopped feeling like it opened a hole in his chest. He couldn’t go back. He knew that. But some days it was easier to accept that than it was to go forward.

  The sun was beginning to set, making the Minnesota mountains look like a painting with red and orange grazing their tops. Cameron’s sleek Lexus pulled up in front of the garage. Ever the politician, he got out of the car with a smile.

  “Hey there, Ryan. Who’s your friend?” Cameron asked, his voice and his stride easy, casual. He wondered if good ol’ Cam had asked Frankie out after Ryan had taken off the other day. He didn’t enjoy the spark of irritation the thought caused. Carter’s shoulders slumped, like he was trying to make himself smaller. Ryan hesitated slightly.

  “Carter. Carter this is Cameron. He lives down the street. Carter is helping me out.” The only thing his dad had ever taught him was to say as little as possible until you needed to say more. Cameron held out his hand to shake Carter’s.

  “You live around here?”

  Carter looked at Ryan.

  “He’s staying with a friend,” Ryan said, looking back at Carter. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, passed them to him, and continued, “Why don’t you go move my truck back up the driveway. Park it in front of the house.” Carter’s eyes widened and Ryan saw a hint of a smile before he nodded at Cameron and walked toward the truck.

  Cameron ran his hand over the table that still needed sanding and a couple coats of polyurethane. Ryan picked up the box with his bat and moved it back to the shelf. He didn’t want Cameron touching it.

  “That kid doesn’t look familiar,” Cameron said. Ryan eyed him over his shoulder as he put the bat back.

  “You know everyone in town?”

  “No,” Cameron chuckled. “But I know a lot of faces. His just doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Ryan said nothing and came back to stand by the table. If it were someone else, he might have offered a beer. His neighbor had been nothing but nice to him but he didn’t like the way Cameron looked at Frankie, the way the boys felt the need to hide from him, or the way he thought it was his business to know everybody and everything. He was arrogant, and maybe that was the pot calling the kettle, but Ryan didn’t care. It was time to start trusting his gut when it came to people. And his gut said, Cameron was only looking out for himself.

  “What brings you by?” Ryan asked. He picked up his empty can and tossed it in the recycling.

  “Couple of things actually. One is, I’m having a get-together, mostly a neighborhood thing, and thought you might want to come by.”

  Ryan pursed his lips. He didn’t particularly want to socialize but he just nodded, as if considering it.

  “I suspect some people will know who you are, so if you’re not up to doling out explanations or answering questions, I’ll understand if you don’t want to join. I’ve already invited Frankie. She was pretty excited so she’ll definitely be there. You know, she didn’t know who you were,” Cameron said.

  Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and straightened his stance, irritation ratcheting up to pissed off. “Is that so?”

  Cameron nodded, a smile that probably won him votes pasted on his face. “It is. It didn’t click for me right away either, of course, but then it hit me and I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten after all the time you’ve spent making headlines.”

  Ryan’s fingers itched. He breathed through his nose, slow, measured breaths. Ryan had made plenty of headlines in his career. He had a sick feeling that Cam was referring to the more salacious ones.

  “I know you’re a politician, Cam, so you like to hear yourself talk, but do you have a point?” Ryan enjoyed seeing the irritation that creased Cameron’s brow, right before he covered it up with a smile.

  Cameron stepped closer so his wool coat brushed against Ryan’s jeans. “Cameron. And, yes. Frankie didn’t know who you are but I’m sure she’ll figure it out. You and her, you’re not a thing, right? I mean, if you were together, she’d know who you were.”

  “Again, your point?

  “Well, Frankie is a good-looking woman and she said yes when I asked her out to dinner so I just wanted to be neighborly and let you know about that, make sure I wasn’t stepping on your toes.”

  Ryan wanted to step on Cameron’s toes. At the moment, he wanted to drop kick Cameron and wipe the smile from his lips. When Cameron clapped Ryan on the shoulder, Ryan cinched his jaw tight and gave an unfriendly smile.

  “Wouldn’t want to do that, would you, Cam?”

  “Really, it’s Cameron. I’m not big on nicknames. But no, I wouldn’t want to do that. Not that you’re in any place to be thinking about hooking up with Frankie or any other woman, am I right? One site online said you’d moved to the hills just to get away from all the craziness.”

  “If you saw it online, it must be true. Guess my secret is out. Is that all?” Ryan asked, his voice smooth and low. Cameron was too pleased with himself to notice that the even tone was masking his shaking hands.

  “Mostly. I also wanted to say there’s been a rash of break-ins around here and Angel’s Lake. Keep your eye out and let me know if you see anything that seems strange.”

  “Sure thing, Cam. Break-ins, get-together, and you’ll be making a formal move on Frankie. Got it.”

  Cameron winced slightly but covered it with a silky smile. Carter was walking back to Ryan, eyeing both men a little uncertainly.

  “Alright. I’ll see you next Friday then. Eight-ish. Bring a date if you want,” Cameron said, as he started moving toward his car. Carter nodded at him as he came to stand beside Ryan.

  “Oh, hey, Cameron?”

  Cameron turned when he got to the driver’s door and looked over the roof of the car, his eyes not as friendly as his smile.

  “Yeah?”

  Ryan walked to the front of the garage where there was a switch to close the door. With his hand hovering, he smiled and said, “Fuck you.” Then he gave a mock salute with his left hand while pressing the switch with the other. When he turned around, the sound of the door closing behind him, Carter had a grin so wide that Ryan couldn’t help but laugh.

  Chapter 14

  Ryan heard knocking followed by his doorbell ringing as he got out of the shower. He pulled on a pair of drawstring pants and a T-shirt before heading down the stairs. He could see Frankie through the beveled glass on the door and was not impressed by the way his pulse hammered. He yanked the door open, the cold punching him back a step. Frankie was bundled, a scarf wrapped around her neck and covering her mouth. The wind had picked up and the clouds were dark. She held a hundred dollar bill in her hand.

  “You’re an idiot,” she stated, her voice muffled, waving the money at h
im. If he had to guess, he’d say it was the same bill he’d given Carter for his help.

  “In general or for some specific reason?”

  He gripped her scarf, pulling her into the house and slamming the door behind her. She shivered and he fought the urge to rub his hands up and down her arms. Touching her was not a good idea.

  “Both. In general and because you paid a teenage boy one hundred dollars for a few hours of work,” she told him.

  He put his hands on his hips and gave a heavy sigh. He wished she didn’t look so good. And that he didn’t want her. It was idiotic to want her more after Cameron’s visit. He’d been screwed around by Victoria—he wasn’t into hurting someone the way he’d been hurt. He sure as hell didn’t want to mess with Frankie’s emotions; she was possibly the nicest person he’d ever met. Though he could be wrong. He certainly had been about the people in his life up to this point.

  “It was more than a few hours. The kid worked his ass off and did everything I asked without complaint. It’s my money. What do you care?”

  She shook her head at him, her eyes darting past him to take in what she could see of his house from the foyer. “I care because he needs to get an actual job or go to school or something. And the amount of money you gave him was unrealistic compared to what he would actually make if he were to get a job.”

  Ryan’s thoughts blurred as he tried to follow Frankie’s. He pressed his fingers to his temple and massaged.

  “He could work construction and he’d make good money.”

  She shook her head at him. “I Googled you.”

  His pulse slowed. He glared at her. Here it comes. His shoulders tightened immediately.

  She frowned. “You were Rookie of the Year.” He grunted in response. She continued. “And MVP. Twice. You also won the GIBBY Awards, which are apparently a real thing.”

  His shoulders loosened slightly and he smirked. “They are.”

  “You were recognized as a top hitter three years in a row.”

  He nodded. “The Silver Slugger Award,” he said.

  Her eyes grew rounder as she continued. “You have a reputation for having a temper,” she said, quieter now, like she was gauging him. Or leading up to the fatal jab.

  “When it’s warranted.”

  “You assaulted your best friend.”

  “He turned out not to be such a good friend.” He clenched his fists thinking about it and tried not to lose his temper now.

  Her face softened, twisting his heart. “I read that too.”

  Ryan folded his arms across his chest. “And that has what to do with Carter? Let me guess, I’m a bad influence? You don’t want me asking him to help again? You think I gave him some drugs in addition to the money?”

  He knew he was sneering at her and that his voice was colder than the wind, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want this from her. Not from someone he liked. He walked into his living room, switched on the gas fireplace, and flopped down on the leather couch. It faced his huge TV, which was currently on mute. He ran his hands through his hair as he leaned back, gripped it tightly, and took a breath.

  “What? What are you talking about?” she asked, following him and untangling herself from her scarf. She tossed it on the oversized chair that matched the couch and stood in front of the fireplace, unzipping her jacket. His thoughts scrambled again before he remembered that he was mad.

  “That’s why you’re here isn’t it? To bitch at me? Tell me my stats? To find out how much of what you read is true?”

  Frankie rubbed her hands together for a second, looking at him until he averted his gaze. He watched the fire dance behind her so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. So he wouldn’t have to see her disappointment.

  “I’m here because I think that if you make it easy for him to earn money, he won’t want to work hard for it. I want to help them but I can’t keep them indefinitely. Which means that Carter needs to be realistic about his options.”

  He sat up and moved his gaze back to hers as she stepped toward him. She tossed her jacket on the chair as well and stood close enough that he had to lean his head back to see her face. Droplets of water shimmied from his hair down his neck.

  “As for doing a Google search, I read enough to know a few things,” she said, her voice dropping an octave.

  He gave an unfriendly laugh. “I’m sure you think you do.” He’d looked away again so he was surprised to feel her fingers in his hair. He gripped her wrist and looked up at her.

  “You didn’t just play baseball. You’re an actual major league player,” she said. It made him happy that she didn’t have the typical ‘groupie-syrup voice’ that always told him a woman was into what he did but not him. She was just stating a fact.

  “Not anymore.”

  “No. You walked away.”

  “Ran, if you ask anyone else.” Still running, he thought bitterly.

  She pulled her wrist from his grasp and sat beside him, where there was no space. She wedged herself between his body and the arm of the couch.

  “You’re retired? You didn’t even wait for them to clear your name.”

  Technically, he was on leave. But he’d known when he took the suspension where it would lead. “I can’t control what people think of me. I know who I am and I wasn’t about to sit around waiting for some stick-up-their-ass suits to decide whether or not they believe me.”

  He ground his teeth together. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t care what people thought. Caring what people thought was the fast track to never being good enough for anyone.

  “No sense going backwards,” he said. He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her mood.

  “It’s not always that easy though,” she said. “To just put everything behind you and start fresh takes courage. At least, I hope that’s what it is.”

  She was talking about herself now. He heard the shift in her tone. He wanted to tell her that she had a hell of a lot more courage than him. He didn’t have to know her well to know that much. What he’d been through was hard, but walking away hadn’t taken courage. If anything, it was cowardice. Not retiring—he’d been ready for a while, but to have worked so hard toward so many things and have them explode in his face with no way of stopping any of it. That he hadn’t gone out on his own terms was like a fist in the jaw every time he thought about it. Which was why he tried not to think about it.

  “I guess we’ll see. It’s not the way I planned to go out but none of that matters now. I understand if you want Carter to stay away from me, but—”.

  “You’re an idiot,” she said. When she smiled, her cheeks and eyes lit up along with the rest of her, like she couldn’t smile half way. The fact that he was so drawn in by just her smile meant that he was in big trouble.

  “You already said that.”

  “It warrants repeating. I’m not worried about Carter being around you. In fact, I think you’re an incredible influence. He was…different when he came back today. Like you’d broken off some of the chip on his shoulder.”

  Ryan put his arm on the back of the couch. He could have moved over but he liked being close to her.

  “Well, I happen to have some experience with having a chip on my shoulder. He’s a good kid.”

  “You’re a good man,” she said quietly, resting her hand on his thigh.

  “You don’t know anything about me, other than what you just read. Ex-wife. Drugs. Assault charges from a friend. Not all of that was just tabloid gossip.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke. He didn’t care what people saw in the tabloids, but he didn’t particularly want Frankie knowing that shit or thinking any part of it was true. He liked that she thought he was good. It made him feel like, maybe, he could be.

  “Let’s just say I have some experience with knowing that there’s always more to a story than what you read. Or see. A lot of people are happy to accept surface-level impressions, but part of the reason I moved here was to stop living like that. And beneath all of the headlines, y
ou had a wife who cheated on you repeatedly with your supposed best friend. A friend who set you up for drug possession to clear himself. I think I’d have an assault charge of my own. It sounds like you needed the fresh start and to get away from all of the people who were hanging on for what you could give them.”

  His throat was uncomfortably tight. Other than a very small group of people, no one had ever had his back unconditionally. Frankie’s words and the sincerity in her eyes were like balm on a third-degree burn. His voice felt thick when he spoke.

  “Maybe. But because of all that, I don’t have much to give anyone else. I told you before, I’m not a risk worth taking, Frankie.” He wished his words held conviction and that the feel of her hand wasn’t searing his skin. She nodded, but her eyes didn’t agree. And neither did the pressure in his chest.

  “You seem too strong to cave to the media. Why didn’t you fight back? Fix the lies?”

  “Because then it would have seemed like I cared. And I was done caring. I was done proving myself.”

  She nodded and her hand came up to rest on his face. He put his hand over it and held it against his cheek. It felt cool against his heated skin.

  “They don’t know you,” she whispered.

  “Who?”

  “The media.”

  Her certainty made his chest ache. “Jesus, Frankie. Do you ever not see rainbows?” He moved over on the couch. He couldn’t handle someone else, her, looking at him and not seeing who he really was. Especially when she’d just claimed to see through all the bullshit. “I’m divorced because I was shit at being married. I was wrapped up in myself and my career enough that I didn’t even notice that she was screwing one of my buddies.”

  She stood up jerkily. “I’m not seeing anything other than what’s in front of me. Maybe it’s you who has vision problems.” She picked up her coat, pulled it on, and then whirled to face him. “You can’t make someone cheat on you, even if you’re an ass. That’s a choice she made, not you. You say you moved on because you didn’t care anymore, but you’re sitting here acting like what some stupid media outlets say about you is true.”