Out at Home (4 page)

Tabby flashed a smug smile. “Really? Tell him that.”

Taylor’s jaw dropped. “No. Honest. He’s a smug, egotistical …..”

“Hey, watch yourself. You’re going to give these ladies the impression that you don’t like me,” Brady grinned as he handed her a bottle of water. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

She narrowed her eyes as she snatched the bottle from his hand. “No."

His grin reached his eyes as he pried her fingers loose and encased her hand in his. Winking at Tabby and Zoey, he grinned. “If you ladies will excuse us, I promised Taylor I would give her a quick interview.”

Pulling Taylor from her chair, he led her back into the house, through the kitchen, and to a comfortable living room. He dropped down to the sofa and motioned for her to do the same. She sat primly on the edge, as far from him as she could get, and dug her note pad out of her messenger bag. He watched her with amused eyes as he sipped slowly from his bottle.

“All right,” she started, not looking at him. “Tell me what it’s like to finally be playing in the big league so close to your home town.” Sitting forward, he placed his beer bottle on the coffee table. “Come on, Taylor. Is that the best you can do?”

“What do you want me to ask you? How your childhood was? Are your parents proud? Because I have all those questions right here.” His eyes darkened. “Why don’t you ask me how my sex life is now that I’m a pro?” She matched his stare, grinding her teeth. “Because I don’t really care about your sex life. I already know too much about it as it is.” He didn’t blink, just returned her stare before finally smiling. Grabbing his bottle, he sank into the sofa, taking a quick swig of his beer. “Fine. It feels wonderful to have worked so hard and finally made it where I want to be. Of course, it’s constantly in the back of my mind that they could send me back down once Randalph’s leg heals.”

“I thought he was just going to retire?”

Brady shrugged. “Probably. But you know how professional athletes are.”

She snorted. “Certainly. Over paid arrogant jocks who think they can get away with anything.” He leaned forward again. “Is that what all this coldness is about, me ‘getting away with something’?” She ducked her head over her notes. “No. Let’s just finish….”

“Taylor, I tried to call you and talk to you but you never answered the phone. You never gave me a chance to explain,” he said, his eyes earnest.

“I didn’t care to hear your explanation then and I don’t care to hear it now,” she said in what she hoped was a smug tone. Inside, her heart was shaking and her stomach quivering - and not out of nervousness. Anger raged through her body but she tamped it down - she had a job to do. “It’s done and over with. It was a stupid, idiotic high school moment.”

He reached for her hand but she yanked it away. “I obviously hurt you and I …”

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Hear. It.” She enunciated each word succinctly.

With a sigh, he sat back. “Okay, Taylor. Go ahead with your questions.”

She asked him the questions Josh had helped her with and he answered them all perfectly, with just a tad of arrogance. Once they finished she tucked her note pad into her bag and got to her feet. “Will you take me to my car now?” He stood also. “What’s the rush? I thought you’d enjoy meeting the guys. You and Tabby seemed to have hit it off.”

“I want to get started on my story,” she explained, keeping the pleading from her voice. “While it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“Spoken like a true writer,” an unfamiliar voice said from over Brady’s shoulder. Taylor’s eyes widened as Alex Miyerson, the Racers’ star pitcher walked into view followed by the equally impressive Mark Johnson. They each stepped forward and shook Taylor’s hand as they introduced themselves.

“Tell me you’re not leaving already?” Alex asked. “Tabby would love to talk your ear off about journalism, I’m sure.” Taylor wondered if men who were good at baseball were born with some kind of gene that made them good-looking, too. Alex Miyerson's dark hair and sculpted looks were testament to that theory. But it was his brown eyes that appealed to Taylor - warm and friendly, urging her to stay.

She smiled at him, her resolve weakening. “I met her already and we did talk shop.”

“Stick around,” Mark coaxed, moving closer. He wasn’t quite as tall as Brady or Alex, but Taylor still had to crane her head to look at him.

“We’re getting ready to throw some burgers on the grill. And I promise we won’t let Alex cook.” Rolling his eyes, Alex gave Mark a friendly punch. "I'm going to get the gril going. I hope you'll stay, Taylor."

He disappeared with Mark closely behind him.

“Come on, love,” Brady coaxed, studying her intently. “Stay for a bit then I’ll take you to your car. I promise to be on my best behavior.” He reminded her suddenly of a five year-old child begging his mother for one more bedtime story. Her resolve faltered.

“Fine,” she relented. “But stop calling me by that stupid nickname.”

***

Tension hovered like a storm cloud as they drove back to the stadium where Taylor had left her car. Brady tried a few times to engage her in conversation but gave up when she refused to cooperate. He sighed repeatedly, smirking when she’d grunt in irritation.

“Come on, Taylor,” he whined. “Admit it, you had a good time. You got along with everyone and they seemed to really like you.”

“I’m surprised nice people like that crowd actually put up with you,” she retorted.

He barked out a laugh. “What can I say? They find me charming.”

She snorted. “As charming as a rabid Rottweiler.”

“Not everyone shares your opinion of me,” he said curtly.

“Not everyone has a reason,” she murmured, not caring if he heard her or not.

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, causing it to spring up at odd angles. “I’m really sorry you feel that way.” When they finally turned into the stadium parking lot, she instructed him on where she'd parked her car. As soon as he pulled beside it, she didn’t say a word as she practically sprang from his car.

“Taylor, wait,” he called. He got out of his car and walked over to the passenger side of hers. She paused, hand on the door handle. “Come to the game tomorrow night. I’ll leave you a ticket at Will Call.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why, Brady? Why are you so insistent that I be in your life again? Didn’t you humiliate me enough?” He rested his arms on the roof of her car and shook his head. “No, Taylor. That’s not it at all.” swallowing, he licked his lips. “I screwed up, okay? I want to make it up to you.”

She laughed, the sound bitter in her ears. “So that’s it. You want to ease your guilty conscience. Let me spare you the trouble. I forgive you, okay? There. It’s over and done. Now move on with your life and leave me alone.” Just as she opened her door, scrambling to get in and away from him, he called to her once more. “Taylor, wait. You need to know the truth.” Stopping, she closed her eyes. She needed to get away from him quickly before she lost control. She didn’t want him to see her break.

She straightened to face him, lifting a brow in question.

“I lost,” he whispered. “I lost the bet.”

She froze, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. Giving him a cold look, she narrowed her eyes. “Really? By a couple hours?

Minutes? That must have really pissed you off, huh?"

“No damn it!” He smacked the roof of her car causing her to jump. “I didn’t tell. I didn’t tell anyone what happened.” She shook her head, refusing to register the words he'd shouted at her. “No. I don’t want to hear this.”

“Taylor,” he begged. “Please. I swear. Just hear me out. I didn’t tell anyone, I promise.” She gaped at him while a single tear fell from her eye, followed by another and another.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Brady,” she whispered. With one last look, she climbed into her car and drove away, avoiding her rearview mirror. She was leaving him behind, again.

She smiled as she heard him approach her from behind. The musky scent of his cologne tantalized her nose as she her shoved books in
her locker and replaced them with different ones.

“
Good morning, love,” he whispered in her ear, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I missed you this morning. Where were you?”
Turning in his embrace, she stood on her toes to place a chaste kiss on his mouth. “I overslept.”
He raised a brow before lacing his fingers with hers and leading her down the hall. “Really? Hot date last night?”
She snorted. “No. Just up late with homework and stuff.”

Nodding his head in greeting to a couple football players passing them, he turned his green eyes on her. “Everything okay?”

“
Of course,” she answered quickly, avoiding his eyes. She definitely did not want to tell him she’d spent the evening taking care of her
drunken father.

They reached her classroom before the warning bell rang. He pushed her gently against the wall, brushing his lips over hers. She melted
into his body, nearly dropping her books.

When he broke the kiss, a smirk slipped over his lips. “I gotta get to class.”
He started to walk away but spun back around, smacking his forehead. “Oh, do you mind if Jason and Amanda go to Prom with us?”

“
Prom?” she asked, totally confused.

He stepped closer to cup her cheek. “Yeah, Prom. You didn’t think I’d take anyone else, now did you, love?”
He kissed her again, only tearing away as the warning bell rang.

She bolted upright, sweat beading on her forehead. Holding a hand to her chest, she caught her breath and glanced at the red numbers of her clock. Only a little after four in the morning.

With a groan, she flipped the sheets back and swung her feet to the floor. No use trying to sleep anymore. Each time she tried, the same images invaded her dreams.

Locating her laptop, she took it to the living room where she got comfortable on the sofa and opened it. She’d started her story on Brady as soon as she'd gotten home, but his parting words had haunted her relentlessly. Giving up, she'd saved what little work she'd had and slammed her laptop shut.

She drew in a deep, cleansing breath and threw herself into the story, consulting her notes often and recalling some of the things his teammates had told her about him.

He had played on the farm team with Kyle for a few years. Kyle had been called up and sent back down a number of times but now it seemed like he was a permanent fixture. Well, as permanent as one can be in the world of professional baseball.

Brady had only received his call recently. Mitchel Randalph, the team’s veteran second baseman, had broken his leg during an awkward slide into home. Although the season was still young, Mitchel figured he wouldn’t be back at all this year. Besides, he’d been hinting around about retirement since the end of last season.

Taylor had spoken to the other guys at the cookout and was surprised to find that they knew Brady pretty well already. Alex had explained that the team had invited Brady to spring training camp the previous two years and since he and Kyle were friends, they'd all gotten the chance to get to know him.

Taylor often thought that she knew more about sports than the average girl, but after spending an entire afternoon with a group of baseball players, she realized that she was quite the rookie. She’d never thought before about the hopes and disappointments they went through in their efforts to finally make it to the big time. Kyle had described to her how thrilled he'd been when he was called up the first time and how he’d telephoned everyone he knew, sure it was finally his moment. But after only a couple weeks with the team, he was sent back down to the minors.

Brady, in one of his humble moments, had described what an emotional roll ercoaster it was for him when friends would get called up, leaving him behind. And when it was finally his turn, he'd been totally elated, until he had to pack up his locker and tell the guys who'd worked beside him every day goodbye.

She included nearly every little piece of information she'd collected and put it together to create a story not only about an athlete whose hard work and persistence finally paid off, but also of the camaraderie between teammates and the struggles they faced together.

She spoke of the heartbreak of another ended season in the minors. She told of the thril of getting the call, only to be replaced by guilt when the call came due to an injury to another player.

She read through it over and over until she was certain Luther wouldn’t totally pick it apart. She saved her work, emailed it to Luther, and shut down her computer.

After she showered, she gathered her things and headed to the office, feeling confident in her work. Brady’s words kept floating around in the back of her mind but she kept pushing them away. She wasn’t going to let Brady Nolan ruin what was to be a perfect day.

She was the first to arrive so after dropping her things at her desk, she waltzed to the break room and started the coffee maker, waiting patiently for it to brew.

She loved coming in early; enjoying the quiet of the usually busy office. She knew every square inch of the squat brick building by heart. Back when her father first became ill, it had been her one escape from medications and doctor visits. Here, she could be Taylor the eager employee; the girl not afraid of any job. She'd jumped feet first into every task.

Finally, Luther had let her try her hand at reporting. Funny thing about that, Taylor had never really thought about writing. Sure, she'd always been an exceptional English and Creative Writing student, but she'd never once dreamed she’d use it to earn a living.

But after she'd written her first piece, she became hooked. Of course she’d been assigned to the Society section, the first rung on the ladder, but she'd embraced it and wrote every piece as though writing a Pulitzer Prize novel. Her hard work did not go unnoticed; no, Luther loved it.

Unfortunately, he had to play along with office politics and forced her to work her way up. She wasn’t thrilled, but she understood.

When the coffee finished brewing, she poured a cup - stirring in two spoonfuls of sugar before retreating to her desk. She picked up her phone and dialed her voice mail. She hadn’t been in at all the day before and wondered if anyone had even noticed.

Someone did
, she thought wryly as she punched a button to retrieve her one mail message. Her hand stilled when she heard Brady’s voice.

“Taylor, love," he greeted. "Come to the game Friday night. I’ll leave a ticket for you at Will Call. I know you’re upset with me but Tabby and Zoey want to see you again. I’ll even buy you a drink after the game.”

Deleting the message, she slammed the phone down in fury. How could he even think that she’d be remotely interested in being anywhere near him? No, she was through. She got her story and now she could continue her life without Brady Nolan.

“You’re here early, kid.”

Looking up at a surprised Luther, she smiled. “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep so I got up early and finished the story. I already emailed it to you.” He raised his brow. “Already? excellent.” He hurried his heavy frame to his office, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I’m done reading it.”

Leaning back in her chair, she nodded. She looked around the office and realized she had nothing really to do. She'd only had the Brady Nolan assignment and she’d finished that already.

Closing her eyes and tilting her head back, she swiveled left and right in her chair.

“
I lost. I lost the bet.”

She squeezed her eyes tighter, forcing the image of his torn face from her mind.

“
I didn’t tell. I didn’t tell anyone what happened.”

“Must be nice to get paid for sleeping.".

Startled, she jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. “I’m not sleeping, Josh, and even if I was, I deserve a little rest. I worked nearly all night.” Josh sat at his desk and turned on his computer. “I see that. You look like hell.” She snorted. “Thanks.”

following his example, she turned on her own computer, deciding to check her email.

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. So, how did it go? Did he give you any hassles?” She browsed through her email, eyes never leaving the screen as she answered him. “No, not really. He took me to a cookout.” Josh’s brows rose to his hairline. “You’re kidding!”

She shrugged as she deleted various spam messages. “It’s embarrassing really.” She turned her chair toward him and filled him in on the whole story.

Josh laughed. “You have to admit he knows how to get to you.”

“He does not,” she protested.

“Are you serious? He got you to do what he wanted. I’ve been trying that for years. And if he’s calling you and trying to get you to come to his game, well, it’s obvious he likes you.”

Closing out her email, she shut down her computer. Getting up, she grabbed her bag, her heart a mess. “No, Josh, he does not. He’s trying to clear his guilty conscience.”

Josh wandered over to her side and perched on the corner of her desk. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a gentle smile on his face. “But you didn’t see him when he came looking for you after graduation.”

“I was sort of busy, remember?”

He squeezed her shoulder gently and ran his free hand through his short hair. “Of course I do. But still, he was a mess. I’ll never forget it.” She let out a bitter laugh as she brushed his hand off her shoulder. “Yeah, right. Brady Nolan is
never
a mess. And why the hell are you defending him?”

“I’m not defending him. I know what he did. I just think maybe you should talk to him.” He held up a finger to stop her protest. “Before you get all defensive, I’m only suggesting this because I think maybe you need some closure.” She shrugged. “I’m going home. I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

“You can’t avoid it forever, Taylor.”

She just waved as she worked her way through the people filtering into the office. When she made it to Luther’s door, she rapped quickly on the glass before poking her head inside. “Hey, Lou Grant. I’m beat so I’m heading home.”

“Not so fast. Get in here.”

She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, feeling as if she was about to face a firing squad.

Looking up at her, he peeled his glasses off his face. He held two sheets of paper up in his free hand. “This is marvelous. I mean, better than newspaper reporting marvelous. You shouldn’t be reporting, you should be writing a book.” A furious blush warmed her cheeks. “Yeah well, I need the paycheck.”

He sighed. “I know, kid.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his graying head. “Well, at least this gives me leverage when I start putting you on real stories.”

Her face lit up as she dropped into a chair in front of his desk. “Really?”

“Yep. Now get lost and get some sleep,” he told her, fighting to keep the embarrassment off his face. “You and Tia take my tickets tonight.

Louisvil e is in town and it's going to be a good game.”

He shuffled through a drawer on the left hand side of his desk until he produced a slim envelope. He handed it to her and sent her on her way.

She shot out of his office, pausing only to smile at Josh, who was on the phone, as she grabbed the cell phone off her desk. At least the tickets weren’t the ones Brady had left for her. Luther’s tickets were down the first base line and ten rows back. Brady would never think to look for her there. She could enjoy the game with Tia and not have to deal with his insufferable ego.

***

She decided since she was leaving the office early, she’d go see her father. She drove to the hospital thinking the whole time about everything Josh had said. She agreed he was probably right. Maybe it would be best if she sat down and talked to Brady, get everything out. Then maybe she could move on with her life. Maybe she could get out of her funk and find happiness somewhere. Hell, maybe she'd even date…

After Prom, when her world had fall en apart, she’d been much too busy to even consider dating again. But now, with Teddy away at school and her father in the hospital, she spent many lonely evenings at home with her television. Tia always regaled her with tales from her dating escapades and sometimes, Taylor felt a twinge of jealousy. She usually had no desire to go out with anyone; Brady had pretty much ruined that. But other times, especially when Tia spoke dreamily of the way her current suitor held her hand or kissed her softly, she would long to have the same thing. Dining with Josh and his wife Lacy only enhanced the emptiness inside.

But dating Brady Nolan once more? No, definitely not. He’d built her up once only to tear her down. She would never let anyone do that to her again. Especially him.

Her father wasn’t sitting in his usual chair when she walked into his room. Instead, he was sleeping in his bed, snoring softly with the crisp, white sheets tucked firmly under his arms. She took a seat next to him, observing how thin he had become in the last few weeks. The doctor had informed her that if he continued to not eat well, they would have to insert a feeding tube. She cringed. She knew her father would hate that.

Resting an arm on the bedrail, she raised her other hand to stroke his thinning hair. She remembered how thick and lustrous it used to be and how her mother would lovingly rake her fingers through it before ruffling it. She’d run from him, laughing uncontrollably, until he caught her around the waist and kissed her.

Taylor rambled softly to her father about how her story had turned out and the cookout she’d attended. She talked of the players she’d met and told him when he got better, she’d introduce them to him.

She started when the door opened and Dr. Edwards entered. The aging doctor smiled at her over his bifocals as he checked her father’s chart.

He made a few notations then placed it back in the tray at the foot of the bed.

“Miss Lockwood, could I have a word with you in the hall,” he asked. Taylor nodded and kissed her father’s forehead. She followed the doctor out of the door.