Gerald slapped two menus on the table, set down two glasses of water, then moved away.
“What’s the story with your necklace?” Brighton asked Axel.
He hesitated. “Story?”
“Yeah, you touch it before you bat,” she said. “Is it some sort of good luck charm?”
He shrugged. “See anything good on the menu?”
Brighton raised her brows but picked up her menu. It appeared he didn’t want to tell her about his necklace. By the time Gerald came over, she’d decided on a chicken salad and a fruit smoothie.
Axel ordered a hamburger and potato wedges. When Gerald left to prepare the food, Brighton said, “Are you going to keep all your secrets?”
Axel’s gaze connected with hers. His gaze was both warm and intense at the same time. “Tell me why you didn’t call me but decided to show up at my game, and I’ll tell you the story about my necklace.”
“Playing hardball, baseball boy?” Brighton teased.
He tapped his foot against hers.
“Okay...” She bit her lip, considering. Should she tell him the absolute truth, or some version of it? Problem was, Axel was extremely observant, and he’d already had a hard day with his sister, not to mention an intense game.
He nudged her foot again. “Any time would be good.”
She focused on those gold-brown eyes. She could do this, she decided. If there was one thing she had learned from her disastrous relationship with Leo, it was to not assume anything. “Like I said, I looked you up. For better or for worse.”
He winced. “You shouldn’t have gone to Twitter.”
“Yeah, well, I did.” She shrugged. “I wanted to call you, but I was also nervous about it. I mean, calling you would have been a big step for me.”
“Because of your ex?”
“Partly,” she said. “This might sound really twisted, but sometimes it’s easier to wallow in self-pity than to move forward in life. And I think that’s what I’ve been doing.”
Those lines appeared between Axel’s eyebrows. “That is twisted, but it makes sense. In a twisted way.” He grinned.
Brighton kicked his foot, because she knew exactly where it was.
“You really don’t want to get into a kicking match with me.”
She kicked him again for good measure.
“Three strikes, and you’re out,” he said, his warning tone teasing.
Just then Gerald brought their meals and her smoothie. Brighton drank from her smoothie. It was a little too tart, but she didn’t want to complain.
Axel drank some of his water.
“Don’t you want soda or something?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said. “My high school coach challenged us to lay off soda, and I guess I never went back.”
“So... your turn,” Brighton said after a couple of bites of her salad.
Axel wiped his mouth with a napkin, and she tried not to focus on his lips.
“My mom gave me this gold chain to pawn after my dad left us with nothing,” Axel said. “He cleaned out our bank accounts, and there was literally zero money to pay for baseball camp. We were lucky to have some canned goods in our pantry for food.”
Well, this Brighton hadn’t expected. She put down her fork, not feeling too hungry anymore.
“My mom told me to pawn it, then use the money to pay for the camp,” he said. “I’d planned to pawn it, give her the money, then find some other way to pay for the camp. The baseball camp was like a pre-tryout for the city league. The kids who didn’t go hardly ever got selected for a team. Besides, baseball was about the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end.”
His statement was so matter-of-fact, but Brighton didn’t miss the flicker of pain in his eyes.
Axel downed some of his water. “I ran into my old coach on my way to the pawn shop. He asked about my mom, and I guess I sort of broke down. I was twelve, you know, so not quite as manly as I am now.”
He was trying to lighten the story, but Brighton couldn’t laugh. Nothing about this was funny.
Axel exhaled. “My coach told me to keep the necklace. Said he’d pay for the camp if I promised to come to practice an hour early every day and prove how hard I could work. He gave me two hundred bucks in sweaty twenty-dollar bills and told me to give the money to my mom.”
Brighton blinked against the tears forming in her eyes.
“The baseball camp was eighty bucks, so I felt like I’d won the lottery.” He shrugged. “When I tried to give the necklace back to my mom, she told me to keep it since it had brought us good luck. I haven’t taken it off since I was twelve, and ever since then, I’ve been to every practice an hour early, hitting balls or throwing in the pitcher’s box.”
Brighton stared at him. It was hard to imagine Axel as a twelve-year-old boy, but his experiences had influenced the man he was today. A man she was becoming more and more impressed with. Beyond his athletic talents and successful career, Axel had a good heart. He’d proved it with the way he cared for his mom and sister, and he proved it with every interaction he had with people.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she said at last. “I wish I could hug your twelve-year-old self and tell him that one day everything will work out.”
Axel gave her a half smile. “That’s all relative, right? Being drafted was a dream come true, but there are still plenty of problems in my life. I mean, if someone didn’t know me, they’d probably think I’m celebrating the win with my teammates with no thought of tomorrow. Maybe blowing a few hundred bucks on alcohol and women.”
Brighton rested her elbows on the table. “Instead, you’re hanging out at an empty diner with me.”
CHAPTER 15
“Or... instead of partying with a bunch of baseball players,” Axel said, “I’m sitting across from a beautiful woman who has no problem kicking me.” He didn’t want Brighton to think she was second best to anything. She’d already had enough of that in her life, first from her mom and then from her ex-fiancé, and who knew who else?
Brighton laughed. “You’re a charmer, Mr. Shortstop.”
He winked, then took another bite of his hamburger. It was loaded, no onions, just how he liked it. The nice thing about Gerald’s Diner was that Axel was never bothered here by baseball fans. He could relax and eat. But Brighton wasn’t eating anymore.
“Both times we’ve had dinner together, you haven’t eaten much,” he said. “Do I need to do some sort of intervention? Or are you going to order a pizza when I take you back home?”
“First of all, no to pizza—no dairy, remember?” she said. “And second of all, I’ve had quite a bit of dairy-free soy ice cream over the past two days, so my calorie count is just fine.”
Axel raised his brows. “Dairy-free soy what?”
“Ice cream.”
“I don’t think that could be considered ice cream,” he said. “Sort of defeats the ‘cream’ part.”
Brighton smirked. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Axel pushed his plate away. He’d finished his hamburger. “I’m in. Should we go back to your place?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, the color spreading to her neck. A neck he remembered kissing a week ago in Belltown. He wouldn’t remind a repeat.
“I’m all out,” she said in a pointed tone, but then she redeemed herself. “Any grocery store has it if you want to make a stop.”
“Any grocery store?” Axel asked. “Not some sort of gourmet health-nut grocery store?”
Brighton shook her head. “Dairy-free isn’t a diet choice for those who are allergic. Maybe if you expanded your circle of friends, you’d find that there are a lot more people like me.”
Axel frowned good-naturedly. “Did you just insult me?”
Brighton smiled like a cat. “Never.”
“So what happens if you have dairy?” he said. “Surely you can’t always know what’s in every bit of food you eat.”
“Hives.”
“Hives?”
“Lo
ts of them,” she said. “Big red bumps all over.”
Axel blinked. Then he stood and put two fifty-dollar bills on the table. “No dairy for you. Come on; let’s go find some soy ice cream.” He held out his hand.
She smirked but put her hand in his and let him help her out of the booth. He didn’t let go, and she didn’t pull away.
“Thanks, Gerald,” he called out. “See you next week.”
Gerald pushed open the swinging kitchen door. “Take care, Axe.” He nodded at Brighton. “Come back, with or without him.”
“Okay,” Brighton said with a laugh.
“We’ll both be back.” Axel linked his fingers with Brighton. As they walked outside, he leaned close and said, “You didn’t need to be so graphic about your dairy problem.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “You asked.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He opened the truck door and looked down at her. “You’re right about a lot of stuff.”
The parking lot was pretty much empty, and they were alone, so maybe kissing her wouldn’t be so out of line. But she’d already turned away and was climbing into her seat.
Axel sighed and shut her door. When he got in on his side and started the engine, he said, “So if you won’t let me come to your place, do you want to come to mine?”
“Maybe.”
He snapped his head to look at her. “Don’t start with maybe again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”
“I can see how you got your nickname.”
He pulled out of the parking lot onto the street. “What are you talking about? Axe Man? Or Home Run Axe?”
“The one on Twitter.”
Axel groaned. “If you’re going to believe anything on social media, I’m going to drop you off at my sister’s. You can be her new best friend.”
Brighton laughed. “Just tell me how you got it.”
“I have no clue.” He looked over at her as he pulled up to a stop light. “Where are we going?”
She pulled out her phone and talked to Siri. “Grocery store near me.” Five locations popped up. “Two miles, then turn right.”
Axel accelerated, driving through the green light.
“So... Heartbreaker Axe?” Brighton said. “Old girlfriend started that? Or maybe there was more than one?”
He winced at the nickname. He’d heard it plenty of times. Had been messaged it through social media. It always came from girls he had never met. “No, because I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Do you not remember what I told you in Belltown?”
“That you hadn’t dated for a while,” she said. “But that doesn’t preclude previous girlfriends.”
“The most I’ve dated a woman is a few weeks,” he said. “But that was because we only saw each other three times.”
He could tell Brighton was surprised, but she could make of it what she would, because it was true.
They’d arrived at a grocery mart on the corner, and he turned into the parking lot. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he had no doubt she’d speak her mind. He liked that about her.
She remained quiet as they walked into the small grocery store. He followed her to the ice cream section, and she picked up two cartons. “Chocolate Silk or Vanilla Sweet?”
He studied both choices. “Chocolate. Unless you want vanilla.”
“Chocolate’s good.” She smiled at him before she headed to the register.
“Wait, do you want anything else?” he asked.
She paused and turned her head. “No. Do you?”
He wanted a lot of things, but none of them could be bought in a grocery store.
“I’m good.” He caught up with her as she reached the register.
When she pulled out a debit card from her back pocket, he said, “I’ll pay.”
She put her hand on his wrist. “I’ll pay. You bought dinner.”
With the pimply-faced cashier staring at the both of them, Axel decided not to argue. He nodded, and Brighton made the purchase.
Soon they were back in the truck, and before Axel pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “So where are we going?”
“Well... since we do need spoons, maybe we could go to your place.”
Axel grinned. “You got it. I have plenty of spoons. At least a dozen. Maybe two.” He wouldn’t tell her he purposely chose Gerald’s Diner because it was only ten minutes from his condo. When he pulled into the neighborhood, Brighton said, “You live on Lake Washington?”
“Yeah, I bought two condos,” he said. “One for me and one for my mom. I didn’t want to maintain a house, and my mom didn’t want anything too big.”
“I’ll bet the views are amazing,” Brighton said, her tone impressed.
“They are,” he said. “But you can see for yourself.”
He pulled into the ground-level garage. The condo was two stories above the garage. Then he opened her door, and she carried the ice cream as they walked up the stairs to the main floor.
“Where’s your mom’s place?”
“Three doors down,” he said as he unlocked his door. He hadn’t had a woman over to his place in, well, ever. And as he flipped on the lights, he wondered how Brighton would view his minimalist décor, which amounted to some baseball memorabilia—and that was about it, besides the essential furniture.
“You have four flat screens on one wall?” she said, walking into the living room.
Oh yeah, and the televisions. “It helps me compare game footage.”
Brighton set her hands on her hips and gazed at the black screens. “What are you talking about?”
“Here, I’ll put this in the kitchen, then I’ll show you.” He took the ice cream carton and carried it to the kitchen.
Then he grabbed the set of remotes and sat on the black leather couch. He patted the space next to him.
Brighton gave him a dubious look but came and sat by him. Not too close, he noticed, but he could still smell her sweet orange scent.
“So here’s screen one.” He clicked on the remote and pulled up the game film from the Portland Royals, who they’d played that night. “That’s one of their pitchers, Redman.”
“He’s the one you hit a home run against.”
“Yep.”
He froze the film, then turned on the second flat screen and pulled up another play from Redman. Once Axel had all four screens loaded with the same pitcher, he played each in sequence. “Notice anything that’s different or similar? They’re all the same pitches.”
Brighton watched but shook her head. “No. He’s winding up the same, throwing the same. At least as far as I can tell.”
He replayed all four clips again. “Yep, they’re all the same pitches, and going to the same location with little variance.” Then he changed the clip on the first screen. “Now watch.”
“The windup is the same, but...”
Axel replayed the clip.
“Redman’s squinting or something.”
“And he’s hitting the strike zone lower.”
Brighton looked at Axel. “You knew where Redman was going to throw the ball because of how he squinted?”
“It was a good guess,” Axel said. “Well, an educated guess, but turned out to be right.”
“I told Gabe that I thought you were swinging before the pitch left Redman’s hand.”
“He throws over ninety-five miles per hour.”
Brighton exhaled. “Gabe thought I was imagining things.”
Axel shook his head. “Nope. And you have a good eye.”
“Thanks.” She seemed pleased with herself. “So, um, how much time do you spend watching clips of your opponents?”
“Just when I’m not sleeping or eating,” Axel said. “Or sometimes while eating too.”
“Or bossing your sister around,” Brighton added.
“That too.”
She rose from the couch, and Axel wished she had stayed by him. She crossed the room and peered at a
display case he had on top of a low bookshelf. No books were there, just some signed baseball memorabilia. “Willie Mayes?”
“Yeah, one of the top players. He was centerfield in the sixties and seventies. Twenty-two-year career.” Axel switched off the screens and walked to where Brighton was examining the other stuff.
“This is quite a collection,” she said. “And I assume it’s all pretty valuable.”
“To the baseball enthusiast.” He wished she’d stay in one place. Now she was moving to the end table, where he had a framed picture of his mom and sister from about two years ago. The thirteen-year-old Silvia had braces.
“Silvia’s cute,” Brighton said, picking up the picture. “Does she still have braces?”
“No,” Axel said, walking over to join her. “That’s about two years old. I doubt Silvia would smile for a family photo now.”
“You might be surprised. Teenagers might act like they hate their families, but they really don’t.” She set the picture down and moved away again.
She was as skittish as a cat. She stopped at a shadow box on the wall that divided the kitchen. It was his Belltown University jersey. “Belltown.” She smiled over at him.
Axel didn’t move. If he did, she’d probably just move again. He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Yep. My mom had it framed for me. So I felt like I had to hang it up.”
“Did either of your parents play sports?” she asked, her gaze scanning the rest of the room.
“My dad played soccer in his home country,” Axel said. “He’s from Spain.”
Brighton raised her brows. “I didn’t know that’s where your parents were from.”
“Just my dad,” he said. “That’s where I think he is now.”
She pursed her lips. “So where’s that view of Washington Lake?”
“The balcony’s through the kitchen,” Axel said, walking toward her.
She turned and went into the kitchen. She reached the door before Axel, and she pulled it open.
“Wow. This is beautiful.” Brighton stepped onto the balcony, which overlooked Washington Lake. Axel didn’t go on the balcony at first. He switched off the kitchen light so that the glare wouldn’t distract from the view.
Axel leaned against the doorframe in the near darkness, watching Brighton. She walked past the two lounge chairs on the balcony that Axel used when he couldn’t sleep at night. He’d been known to fall asleep out here more than once. It was a good, peaceful place to think through upcoming games. Boat lights twinkled in the harbor, and the moon cast its shimmering light over the still-as-glass water.
Charming the Shortstop Page 11