“That was…” she started, but before she finished, I pressed my lips to hers again for one more peck. I couldn’t resist tasting her one last time, even if it had to be brief.
Sitting up, I lifted a dazed Destiny along with me and made sure her shirt was back in place before our picnic was crashed. I rested my elbows on my knees just as Mr. Rogers appeared, crossing the footbridge with his mutt of a dog bounding ahead of him.
“Well, hello there, JJ, Miss Porter. How’s that lovely grandmother of yours doing?” Fred Rogers called out.
“She’s doin’ just fine, Mr. Rogers.” A smile spread on Destiny’s face as she ran her fingers through her hair, I assumed to ensure no evidence of what we’d been up to showed.
As he got closer, he started patting his pockets. “I have something for you to give her.”
“Great,” Destiny enthused brightly. Then, under her breath and through her clenched teeth, she whispered without taking her attention away from Mr. Rogers, “My gram has a not-so-secret admirer.”
“Your gram isn’t the only one,” I said in a low, deep voice only she could hear.
A deeper shade of blush rose on her cheeks, but her eyes remained on her gram’s admirer as he ambled over, a piece of paper in hand. Seeing her with the sun shining on her golden-red hair, which was still a little mussed from our make-out session, her lips swollen from my kisses, and the flush rising on her fair cheeks made me want to pound my chest caveman-style for being the cause of her appearance. Making Destiny blush, smile, laugh, and just feel was more real than any World Series ring or W on my record. She was my life W; she just didn’t know it—yet.
Chapter 23
Destiny
“The best time for your dreams to come true is when you’re wide awake.”
~ Grandma Dixie
“Where is it?” I asked in a panic to the only other living soul in my apartment.
His only response was a dismissive flick of his tail and a one-eyed glare—he did not know and he did not care.
“I can hear it. Where is it?” I repeated as I rummaged through my oversized purse in search of my phone.
The towel that I had haphazardly wrapped around my wet hair as I’d rushed out of the shower to answer the call I heard coming in slipped off my head. It landed in my purse, which acted as an obstacle in locating my device.
I snatched the terrycloth material up, and threw it across the room, nearly hitting Captain Pickles in the backside. Thankfully, he jumped off the sofa before he was pummeled.
The entire scene felt like I was living out my very own I Love Lucy moment.
“Sorry,” I apologized to my cat, who was now halfway down the hall heading straight for the sanctuary of the bedroom.
On any other day, being unable able to locate my phone would not have caused me anxiety, but today was different. Today, Cara was seeing her doctors to go over her latest round of test results. And today, if her tests were clear, it would mark a five-year milestone, which would move her from “in remission” to “cancer-free.” My hands continued their search-and-rescue mission as I glanced at the clock. Time: eight forty-five. Cara’s appointment was not until nine. So questions began flying around my brain like monkeys in the Wizard of Oz.
Did that mean she’d gotten in early?
If they had seen her early, was that a good or a bad sign?
Were they so excited to give her the good news that they had to see her?
Or was it so bad that they didn’t want to keep her waiting?
“No!” I called out as my phone went silent, meaning I had missed the call. “Ugh! This is exactly why I wanted to go and be there,” I mumbled to myself as I dumped the contents of my bag onto the white-and-black-tiled kitchen floor and scrambled to find my phone.
Cara had insisted that Harmony and I not go with her to the doctor that morning. Which we were not okay about. But she said she didn’t want to make a big deal of it. Instead, her older brother Colton was taking her—but not because she’d wanted him to, either. She hadn’t. But he’d played the big-brother card and she’d begrudgingly allowed him to go. Harmony and I had tried to play the best-friend card, but apparently, only one card could be played and Colton had beaten us to it.
Part of being a good friend was knowing when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em. Cara had had so little control over so much of her life during the past decade that both Harmony and I knew, when she put her foot down, she had to have that control. Especially when it came to matters of her health.
So, even though it was killing both of us, we’d relented and stayed home instead of going into Dallas with her to see her oncologist.
“Oh!” I exclaimed when I saw the corner of my red iPhone cover just as the ding of a message sounded. I pressed the listen icon without checking number. My heart was pounding as I held the phone to my ear.
“Destiny, this is Mr. Crawford…”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared down at it. The message had indeed come from the bank. Once I’d paused the message, I checked my call log, but I hadn’t missed any incoming calls from Cara or Colton. The only call I’d missed had been from the bank.
Apparently, I needed more than one cup of coffee to have enough brain cells to function today. It’d taken my fuzzy mind way too many steps to put those events together.
In my defense, I hadn’t slept at all last night, and as sad as it was to admit, it didn’t have anything to do with my best friend’s life-altering appointment. I wished that were it. That would’ve made me a much better person than I actually was.
But no, the reason I hadn’t slept last night—or the night before or the night before-the night before—was because of one thing and one thing only: my overactive hormonal reaction to the fact that JJ Briggs was within a five-mile radius of where I laid my head to sleep. No matter how hard I tried, just knowing that he was home equated to my developing Vicinity-Induced Lust Insomnia. Yep. I was suffering from V.I.L.I. Which, as far as I knew, was not a medically recognized condition, but if it was up to me, it would be.
Since JJ had shown up a few days ago, every night when I closed my eyes, all I could think about was that he was just a phone call, text, or short jog away. Each night, all of my senses were hyperaware that, at any moment, he could call, text, or show up at my door. That knowledge made it physically impossible to sleep. So, instead, I tossed and turned, wishing he would call, text, or—fingers crossed—show up at my door. Then, wanting those things to happen would frustrate me and work against my desperate attempt to fall asleep. This vicious cycle was not conducive to getting my eight hours in.
Closing my eyes, I scooted back and leaned against the wall separating the kitchen from the front room as exhaustion pulled at me. Something had to give. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could endure this. Especially because my body had been wound tighter than a bun on a prima ballerina since JJ had used Dolly’s fried chicken to bribe me into going on the picnic yesterday.
The kiss we’d shared before Mr. Rogers had interrupted us had been more than just a kiss. It had been erotic. Explosive. Epic. And it wasn’t just the out-of-this-world kiss that had me tied up in knots. It was that, between the time we’d spent together talking—well, I’d talked and he’d listened—and the time we’d spent with Gram, all the reasons my heart had only had one owner solidified like freshly poured concrete on a hot day.
I didn’t only love JJ because he could kiss like a rock star, was sexier than sin, funnier than most stand-up comedians, and had DIY-fix-it skills to rival MacGyver. No, the things I loved the most about JJ were intangible. I loved the way JJ looked at me like the sun rose and set in my eyes. I loved the way he listened to me when I rambled on and on. I loved the way his lips curled up at the edges at my reaction every time he riled me up, like I was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. I loved the way my hormones spring-loaded like he was scissors and I was curling ribbon when he brushed up against me. And the thing I loved the most about him was the way he sighed
and kissed the top of my head every time he hugged me like I was precious, treasured, loved.
I had to face the facts: What I felt for JJ wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t puppy love. It was real. So, now, all I had to do was figure out how to get over it. Yes, JJ had a house in Wishing Well now, but he was still a professional baseball player. I’d heard enough stories, watched enough reality shows like Basketball Wives and Real Housewives to see what a relationship with an athlete was like.
No. Thank. You.
Not that JJ had said, or even hinted, that he wanted a relationship with me. Yes, he’d sent me flowers and taken me out on a picnic, but he hadn’t exactly given me his letterman jacket. We weren’t “going steady.” We weren’t even dating.
My phone buzzed in my hand. The number that popped up indicated it was the bank again.
“Hi, Mr. Crawford,” I answered. “Sorry. I was just about to call you back.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I was actually calling you again because I’m not available this afternoon after all and I was wondering if you could come in to sign before ten.”
“Sign?” I asked.
“Yes. Didn’t you get my message?”
“Um, no…yes,” I said, stumbling over my words. Sleep. I definitely needed sleep. “I mean, I haven’t had a chance to listen to it.”
“Oh, well, then let me tell you the good news. Congratulations! Your loan has been approved through a private lender with more favorable terms and a lower interest rate than the original lender.”
I’d heard his words, but I couldn’t process them. My entire body went numb. My head was filled with white noise like a rushing river.
“What?” I breathed, not able to find my voice.
“You have the small business loan. All you need to do is come down and sign the paperwork. Does ten work for you?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Then my phone beeped from an incoming call, which snapped me out of my momentary mime impression.
“Yes. I’ll be there. Thanks.”
Just as I was about to switch over, Mr. Crawford’s voice came through the speaker.
“Oh, and one more thing. Did you have anything to do with the retirement? I only ask because there is a pool going around the bank.”
“A pool? Retirement?” I repeated.
“JJ’s retiring. It’s all over the news.”
What?! No. That couldn’t be right. He hadn’t said anything at Gram’s or at the picnic. He couldn’t be retiring. Could he? Why would he do that? He’d said his shoulder was “as good as new.” He wouldn’t have lied about that. Would he?
My mind was on information overload, and my phone was still buzzing. “I have to go, Mr. Crawford. I’ll see you soon.”
As I clicked over, my hands were shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the loan or the news about JJ though—or both.
“Hello,” I was able to say through the tornado of confusion spinning in my head.
“Des?” Cara’s voice was small.
My heart clenched in my chest. “Yeah.”
“Okay, she’s on. Now, tell us what they said?” Harmony rushed her words, her voice strained.
“They said…” Cara’s voice trailed off, and it was tight like she was on the verge of crying.
Oh no. No. No. No. It couldn’t be. This could not be happening. Not again. She’d been so close to this being behind her.
“Care bear, I’m here.” My voice cracked as tears filled my eyes. “I’m here.”
“Whatever it is, we’ve got this. We’ve got you,” Harmony assured her, sounding stronger than I was sure she was feeling. “So just tell us, tell us what they said.”
“I’m cancer-free,” Cara spoke so quietly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right when she repeated. “They said…I’m cancer-free.”
The moisture that had pooled in my lower lids now fell freely down my face. I couldn’t do anything but cry as a smile so wide I was surprised it didn’t crack my cheeks, spread across my face. Harmony whooped and hollered and declared that we were going out to celebrate by having a girls’ day out.
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but sit in my kitchen, pull my knees to my chest, and cry. The loan, JJ—none of that compared to this. Cara had won the battle she’d been fighting for the last decade. Nothing in the world was better news than that.
Not even if JJ declared his undying love to me…but, that would be a close second.
Chapter 24
JJ
“If you lie down with dogs, you’ll end up getting fleas.”
~ Grandma Dixie
“I know this is not ideal, but I would advise against moving up the press conference.” Jessie recommended firmly.
“Are you sure?” I rubbed the back of my neck. My chest constricted, like a belt was tightening around it. “At this point, the cat is out of the bag. I don’t really see the point in waiting.”
I’d been out on a run when my phone’d lit up like a Christmas tree with Google alerts, texts, and missed calls. I’d stopped and returned Jessie’s call before checking any of the rest. She’d informed me that a story had just broken, one that said I would not be returning to the Waves and was retiring from pro ball. That wasn’t supposed to be announced for ten more days. I had wanted to get all of my ducks in a row before I dealt with the press, the public, and, hell, even my family.
“Nothing’s out of the bag. Not officially,” she pointed out, tension bleeding through her voice. “At this point, it’s hearsay.”
Hearsay that just so happens to be true.
“Do we know who’s talking?”
I hadn’t even told Destiny my plan yet. I’d wanted to, and it had almost slipped out at the picnic yesterday. But the thing that was holding me back, was I didn’t want her to feel even the slightest bit responsible. It was my decision and mine only. And I had a plan for my future that I was putting into place. Which is why Jessie had agreed to push the announcement date. But now that ESPN was running stories about my “rumored retirement” on a constant loop, God only knew what other sources had picked it up.
“I’m still working on it. They are quoting inside sources. Who did you tell?” Jessie’s inquiry wasn’t accusatory; she just needed the information.
“My mom guessed, but she wouldn’t say anything.” I hadn’t told anyone else about my plan.
“Then it has to be coming from inside the Waves organization.”
“Great.”
It wasn’t a secret that they weren’t happy with my decision, but they’d agreed to wait to announce anything officially until the press conference that Jessie had set up. The owner, the GM, and the coach were supposed to be the only people that knew. I hadn’t even told any of my teammates.
“Do you have an ETA on when we can announce the sports academy?”
“Eight to ten days. The permits should be through by then.” I’d already secured the land and my business license. If everything went as planned, the Briggs Big League Sports Academy would be open for business within a couple of months.
I loved baseball, so just because I was done playing didn’t mean I wanted it to be out of my daily life. I’d been thinking about this for a few years—a training center where athletes could come for assessment and development. I had planned to have the groundbreaking ceremony immediately following the press conference.
“Let’s stay the course. Krista has been inundated with calls regarding your physical therapy. Of course she’s not commenting.”
I had worked with Jessie long enough to know that she had more to say. So, I waited as I looked out over old man Spratt’s field. On the far side of the pasture, two cows were milling about. Closer to the back road I was running on, he kept his horses, three of which were munching grass without a care in the world. I inhaled a deep breath of country air as the sunshine warmed my face.
On the road, I always felt like something was missing from my soul. I felt restless and at loose ends. Destiny was part of that—the main pa
rt. But this was the other factor. Home. Wishing Well was home. It was where I belonged.
“Are you sure about this?” Jessie’s question snapped me out of my nostalgic moment. “You could still have several more good years. Have you considered the money that you’re leaving on the table?”
She had no ulterior motive for asking this. She did well, and whether or not I signed on for a few more years would not affect her bottom line. Even if it would’ve, she’d still only want what was best for me. I had good people in my camp, and Jessie was at the top of the list. She was worried that I was making a mistake, but what she didn’t know was that, for the past two years, I’d woken up every day and felt like my life was a warped version of Groundhog Day. I was existing, not living. I wasn’t happy; I wasn’t fulfilled. I was basically phoning in my life. Living in a black-and-white version.
Until I’d made the rash decision to come home for the Fourth. Then everything was in color again. Vibrant color. Red-haired, blue-eyed color.
“I’m sure.” I started jogging back to the farm.
With the news breaking, I needed to see Destiny. I wanted to kick my own ass for not having told her since I’d been home. Sure, I’d had my reasons, but now this was going to blindside her. My mom was right—it had been a boneheaded move not to talk to her while I’d finished my physical therapy. If I had, then none of this would have been a surprise—which, next to being the center of attention, was one of her least favorite things.
I hadn’t been trying to be a dick. But, I knew if I had heard her voice, I would have left Illinois. Moved back. I wouldn’t have finished what I’d started. I wouldn’t have known, without any doubt, that I could’ve physically gotten back on the mound if I’d wanted to. Now, because I’d finished my PT, I knew. I could absolutely get back up on the horse. I could have returned for playoffs if the Waves made it that far.
With that knowledge, I was still walking away. On my terms. With no reservations. No doubts. No what-ifs. And, most importantly, Destiny would never have to feel like she’d influenced my decision. We had a clean slate.
Teasing Destiny (Wishing Well, Texas #1) Page 15