But nerves rattled him more than he'd expected.
Seeing Ashley would help settle him.
He showered and dressed in the suit that Kelsey had suggested he wear. Then he packed an extra change of clothes, on Leo's advice.
A glance at the time showed he had plenty of time to stop at the bakery. He could buy a box of cupcakes to bring to the show. Maybe even get them on air and give Bliss Bakery a publicity boost.
Excitement charged along his skin. He couldn't wait to see her. It didn't matter that he saw her nearly every day. That energy— that spark —was always there.
He dropped the dog off at his dad's house and headed to the bakery. Traffic was annoyingly slow. But part of that might have been viewed through the lens of his impatience.
Finally, he pulled in behind her van and jumped out to meet her. She was in the driver's seat. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel and climbed out.
Alarm bells set off his protective instincts. He met her on the sidewalk. "What's wrong?"
She dragged her hands through her hair. "The van's not working. It's not the battery. I was on the phone with roadside assistance. They said it sounds like the starter. Which is bad. And expensive. A tow truck might not get to me for two hours. And worst of all, I have a delivery due in West Philly in half an hour. Katie's on the phone, trying to track down a van for me to rent. I'm going to have to call my customer and push back the time. It won't be much of a surprise party if the cake arrives after the party is over."
He'd seen her little hatchback. No big cake could fit in there. He couldn't leave her stranded. "I'll get you there."
She stopped pacing. "What? Really? But what about your football show? I thought you were going to New York today."
"It's fine. I'll still be able to make my train. You get Katie so we can transfer the cake faster, and I'll fold the seats down. And can you box up a dozen cupcakes for me?"
Eyes wide, Ashley nodded. "I'll be right back."
By the time she'd returned with her sister, he had the seats down and the GPS ready for the destination address. The three of them maneuvered the large, heavy cake into the back of his car. It fit with a few inches to spare.
Katie hopped in the back and Ashley climbed in beside him. He put the flashers on and merged into traffic. Driving fast wasn't an option with a massive cake as cargo. Ashley winced and looked over her shoulder with every bump in the road. For someone who liked to drive fast, painstakingly slow was painful.
The estimated seventeen-minute drive turned into thirty.
They arrived on time for the delivery, and the relief on Ashley's face was almost palpable. She placed her hand on his arm. "Thank you. Katie and I can take it from here."
"I'll help you take it in. I have time."
Moving the cake out was easier than sliding it in had been. They carried it inside, and the sisters took a few minutes to fix the minor flaws that had formed in transit. The client loved it and thanked them profusely. Xavier swelled with pride for Ashley.
When they returned to the car, more time had passed than he'd thought. Ashley frowned as she studied the traffic app on her phone. "Just drive to 30th Street Station now. Katie and I can get home from there. I don't want you missing your train."
He had to admit, he wasn't sure he could swing getting them back to South Philly and then heading to 30th Street. "Good plan."
Hitting every red light didn't help his blood pressure. Stress continued to build as he fought through traffic. Finally, the large building came into view. He swung into the parking garage. "A few minutes to spare."
Ashley handed him the box of cupcakes and his suit bag. "Thank you for everything. Good luck. I'll be watching the show."
He cupped her cheek and bent to kiss her. Emotions settled. Stress eased. He pulled back and pressed his lips together, taking a taste of her with him.
Then, he ran like hell.
Dodging people, he rushed through the grand lobby where he'd been fascinated by all the people and architecture as a kid and nearly broke a leg getting to the platform.
He missed a step and fell down the last three stairs, landing on his rear with a twisted wrist and a crushed box of cupcakes.
And looked up to see the train pulling away.
"Fuck."
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He kicked the box and lurched to his feet. Hands balled into fists until the soreness in his left wrist screamed in protest. Sweat broke out over his skin. Frustration burned in his veins. Xavier pulled out his phone and looked up the next scheduled train. It wouldn't get him to New York in time.
A search of alternate routes yielded the same results. Not unless he could add time back on the game clock. But real life didn't work that way.
Slowly, he made his way up the steps. The cupcakes landed in the garbage, looking as decimated as he felt.
Things couldn't get worse. Might as well get the phone call over with. Within a few rings, he had the show's producer on the phone and an apology ready to deliver. "I'm sorry. I missed my train."
A muttered, creative expletive, barely audible, made him wince. "There's absolutely no way you can make it here? You've got to be kidding me, Xavier. This isn't like a team meeting or anything. This is live TV. You get one shot at it."
"Sorry, but the next train won't get me there on time."
"All right. Well..." He sighed. "Look, Xavier, I like you but players who want to get into broadcasting after their playing days are behind them are a dime a dozen. There are more players than available spots. As hard as it is to be a pro player, it's even harder, more competitive to land a big-time broadcasting career once your playing days are over."
"I can't apologize enough. Can I be patched in to do it over the phone? Or try to hook up with one of the local Philly stations and try to do a remote?"
"You're not just doing a segment. You're co-hosting. You can't do that from outside the studio or over the phone."
Shit.
"I'm sorry. Could I do another day? Anything at all, and I'll make sure I'm there."
"We're booked for the rest of the off-season. Maybe once next season starts, we'll see. We'll let you know."
Xavier recognized the brush off. His opportunity was slipping away. Desperation heightened his words. "Any day, any time. I'll be there. I'm sorry again."
But his apology was met with a click, followed by silence.
The Food TV producers weren't going to be happy with him either. Neither was Mr. Mills. Bracing for that phone call called for something stronger than a cup of coffee. The drive home barely had any traffic at all. It figured. He bypassed his house and the bar and went to the gym.
Shane was working at the front desk. He did a double-take when Xavier came through the door. "Why are you here? You're supposed to be in New York."
"I know. Missed my train." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. Pain throbbed behind his eyes and at the base of his skull. "I stopped by Bliss to pick up some cupcakes to bring to the show, and Ashley's van wouldn't start. She had to make a delivery, so we used my SUV. I got to the platform as the train was pulling away."
A low whistle escaped his lips. "When you do something nice for someone, Karma isn't supposed to bite you in the ass for it."
"Yeah, well. Maybe things will even out, and we'll end up winning the competition."
"That might not do too much for your career post-playing days unless Food TV thinks you'd make a good host."
He snorted at the idea. "No way would they want me. The amount of knowledge I have about how to bake things could fill the smallest measuring cup ever made. Maybe even the smallest measuring spoon. I'll have to find another way to make a better impression on the football network's producers."
Shane nodded at the smear of frosting on Xavier's sleeve. "Send up a few boxes of cupcakes or cookies. The crew here loved the stuff Ashley made for the party. It might entice the producer to give you another shot."
"And it would be good publicity for Ash too
."
Shane's brows drew together. He tilted his head and stared at Xavier like he was studying a complicating play on the field. "Interesting that helping her is the first thing that pops into your head."
Xavier shrugged. "Want to come over and watch the show? You can keep me from throwing things at the TV."
"Hell, yeah." He rounded the counter and swiped a water bottle off the desk. "I'm off the clock in ten minutes."
"I'll wait for you in the car. I have another phone call to make."
Five minutes later, he finished his explanation and waited for Mills' response.
"What the hell, Xavier? Do you know how this is going to look to the show's producer?"
"Yeah. I've already spoken to the guy at the network."
"Not him. My daughter and the rest of the people connected to producing the show on Food TV."
"I'm sorry."
A sigh, heavy with obvious disappointment, made him wince. "Son, you've worked hard to be one of the best in the game these last few years, but when you screw up, the first thing people are going to think about are all of those times you made headlines for the wrong reasons."
"I know." It sucked and maybe it wasn't fair, but it was his reality. He could never outrun his past.
Later that night, Xavier sat in his recliner, stretched out in full relax mode. Two beers and the company of his older brother had helped mellow his mood. Shane lay splayed across the couch, cradling the remote in one hand and a beer in the other.
Half an hour into the show, his phone lit up with a text from Ashley.
Ashley: Hey there! Do I have the show & time correct? You're not on my TV screen.
Xavier glared at the TV and his replacement: a recently retired player who had amazing camera presence. Muscles tight, he typed his response.
Missed my train.
A glance at the TV showed his replacement joking with the show's host and both of them wearing gleaming smiles. As if Rocky knew how Xavier was feeling, the dog trotted over and laid his head on Xavier's knee.
Three text bubbles popped onto his phone screen.
Ashley: Oh no!
Ashley: I'm so sorry. It's my fault. If you hadn't helped me, you would've made your train.
Ashley: I feel awful.
A sad face emoji followed the third text.
He shifted the ice pack on his wrist. He probably would have made his train. Dwelling on what happened wouldn't help anything. Just like putting a bad play or a bad game behind him, he had to put it behind him and focus on what he could do next.
Xavier: Don't worry about it.
Ashley: I need to make it up to you somehow.
Xavier: It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow.
It wasn't fine. And it wasn't her fault. Maybe if he'd been smarter, he could have handed over the keys to his vehicle at the bakery and then grabbed a cab to the train station. But hindsight couldn't fix the mess he'd made.
He wasn't sure if anything could.
* * *
He probably hated her now.
Ashley paged through recipe after recipe as the thought replayed over and over and over. She had to make it up to him, but how?
An idea formed, but what if it wasn't enough? What if she'd ruined things? Regret clutched her stomach, and uneasiness spread until it covered her skin from head to toe.
Katie marched into the room carrying a stack of papers. She looked angry and hurt and scared all at once. "We need to talk."
Ashley immediately pushed the recipes aside. "What's wrong?"
"I knocked over the plant in the office when I was watering it, and dirt went everywhere. Including your desk."
Oh no. She knew where this was going. Her muscles tightened, and that cloak of unease grew. "Katie..."
Her sister held up a hand. "And what did I see? Bills. Past due notices. Lots of debt. Maxed out credit cards. Ashley, I knew things were bad, but I didn't know they were this bad. How could you hide this from me?"
"Oh, Katie." She felt so helpless, so defeated, like such a failure. She stifled a sob and covered her face with her hands. "This wasn't how things were supposed to work out."
Soft footfalls padded across the floor. Katie rubbed her shaking shoulders. "Shh. Come on, don't worry."
"How can I not worry? We're months behind on rent. The only reason we're even still here is that our landlord is a nice guy and had such a good relationship with Mom for so many years. But he needs to be paid too. In full. By next month. Time is running out."
"What are we going to do?"
"You're going back to school as planned. I've applied for another loan." She glanced around the room. "And we'll see if there is anything else we can sell. Which reminds me, I heard from the mechanic. The van will be ready tomorrow. It's going to cost about three hundred dollars."
"Wait, how are you paying the bill?"
"I'll sell my sapphire ring." Ashley shrugged, but her shoulders shook, and her voice caught. "The stone looks too big on my fingers anyway."
"But you love that ring. You can't sell it."
"What else am I going to do?"
Katie twisted her matching sapphire ring off her finger and held it out to her sister. "We can sell mine. I don't love it as much as you do."
She picked up another recipe card. Upon seeing her mom's familiar looping scrawl, she paused. She felt lost, alone and not for the first time since her mother's death, she wished desperately for the familiar comfort of her embrace. "I miss her so much."
"I know. I miss her, too. Remember that year when we made Christmas cut-out cookies, and you had the idea of mixing the different colors of icing together to see what would happen?"
Ashley laughed at the memory. "It turned that weird brownish, grayish, greenish color. I thought she'd be furious when she saw it. But she said we were brilliant to ice the cookies in camouflage so we could keep them all for ourselves."
"She was the best. You know, I think she'd like Xavier."
"I'm not even sure if Xavier likes me at the moment."
Katie crossed her arms over her chest. Fire came into her eyes. "Helping out was his choice. He's responsible for his own actions."
"I know that, but he lost out on something because he was helping me. I don't know how to make it up to him. I thought about baking something, but..."
Her sister ran her finger along the edges of the recipe cards. "I think you have the right idea. And I'll help."
Gratitude for her sister filled the raw, battered parts of her heart. Coming clean on everything had been an enormous relief. "I'm really going to miss you when you go back to Chicago."
"I know. I'm pretty amazing." Grinning, she leaned her head on Ashley's shoulder. "But then again, I have a big sister who taught me everything I know."
* * *
Two hours later, Ashley stood outside Xavier's home, questioning whether she should have come without calling first.
But here she was, and damn it, she would deliver the peace offering even if it killed her.
A deep inhale, and she rang the bell.
Incessant barking came from the other side of the door. If nothing else, Rocky liked her.
The clicking of locks, more barking, then silence, and then the door slowly opened. Xavier filled the doorway, wearing a gray T-shirt and worn jeans and a tentative smile. "Hi."
Warmth washed into her when their gazes met. A shiver worked its way up her spine. "I'd say I was in the neighborhood, but I live here, so I'm always in the neighborhood. Anyway, I wanted to apologize again for today."
The intensity in his eyes stole her breath away and left her guessing at his mood. "Like I said in the text, it's not your fault."
"I still feel really bad about it." She thrust the packages at him. "This won't make up for what happened, but here. The smaller box is for Rocky, and the bigger one is for you."
He stepped back and beckoned her with his free hand. "Come in."
Anticipation buzzed along her skin as she entered his home. In the distance,
Rocky's barks began again. "Where's the dog?"
"I put him in the bedroom. When I saw that you held boxes from the bakery, I didn't want a repeat of what happened the day we met."
Laughter bubbled out at the memory. "That seems like such a long time ago. Poor Rocky, all he wanted was some cake."
"Poor Rocky doesn't know his own strength." But he smiled too. "I couldn't believe what he did. I saw you go down and couldn't get there fast enough. And then I saw your face, and I stopped breathing."
Her breath caught at the words. "Xavier."
"You're stunning, but how you are on the inside is even more beautiful." He placed the boxes on a long table that bordered the back of the couch. "Like with these. You go out of your way to take care of other people."
Rocky's barks turned into howls. Long, forlorn, pitiful cries for attention.
Xavier glanced at the ceiling. "I'd better get him before the neighbors call in a nuisance complaint. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
She surveyed the large room. Neutral colors, leather furniture that looked well-used and well-loved, a basket filled with dog toys, and a dog bed next to the couch. First impression: the man loved his dog.
With a thundering down the stairs, man and dog returned, with Rocky straining from his leash. Xavier slowed his steps as they approached her. "I'll set him free once he gets over the initial excitement of greeting the new person."
Ashley rubbed her hands over the dog's head and braced herself for the dog's strength. "Oh no, it's fine. I love dogs. I've always wanted one. Hey there, Rocky. I'm happy to see you again."
Xavier joined her in petting the dog. "He's been through obedience classes twice. In every other instance, he's fine."
"I'm sure he's trying his best."
The dog eventually settled and lay at their feet. Xavier removed the leash and set it on a hook by the front door. He picked up the boxes and inclined his head toward another doorway. "Come into the kitchen."
Ashley took a deep breath and focused on Xavier's broad shoulders and the way his body filled out his clothes. Muscles, sculpted and toned. Power and strength waiting to be unleashed.
He opened the boxes. "Wow. Rocky is going to love these. You made them? I'm really impressed. And this other box? It looks like chocolate biscotti."
Hometown Hero Page 6