Calling It (6 page)

Saving her from making what was sure to be a pathetic excuse, Fitz’s voice rang out from behind her. “Tomorrow’s trivia night. Nate—the guys are already planning on you being there.”

Oh, thank God.

“Really,” Nate said. It was a statement more than a question.

“Yep,” Fitz answered, clearly choosing not to acknowledge the suspicion in his voice. Ignoring it entirely, in fact, and turning to Dorie. “I’ve called in the cavalry. We’ll have this place cleaned out in no time. Nate—can you help Aunt Laura and Uncle A with the boxes? We’re gonna need a bunch more made up.”

Nate looked from Fitz to Dorie, then to Fitz again, not at all happy about being so obviously dismissed. He didn’t question her, though. With one final glance at Dorie, he left the room.

Waiting until he was safely out of hearing distance, Fitz whirled around and looked at Dorie.

“What?” Dorie asked as Fitz remained silent.

Fitz hesitated for another minute before saying, “That was interesting,” and coming farther into the room. “He seems, I don’t know,
happy
.” She was clearly surprised as she stared thoughtfully at Dorie. Then she briskly said, “You should come to trivia night. Join us on the ladies’ team.”

Dorie’s eyes bugged out.
Really?
“So now you want to pimp me out to make him
happy
?” Not exactly contradictory to Dorie’s own ideas, but still...

That didn’t seem to offend Fitz at all. She just ignored Dorie’s words as she give a little bit of a shrug.

Dorie shook her head. “No.” No, no, no,
no
. She was
not
doing this.

Fitz changed the subject by saying, “So Wash is coming by with a couple of the guys from the farm.”

Oh. Oh, lord. This was not helping. Wash Fairfield? This was getting even crazier.
C
-
R
-
A
-
Z
-
Y.
“Oh,
God
.”

Plus...windows aside, Dorie did have a conscience, especially if there was more hanging out to be done. But how could she tell Nate the truth when Wash Fairfield was standing there next to him? She resisted the sudden urge to put her head between her knees.

“Boxes,” she said to herself, nearly forgetting the other woman until Fitz looked up and said, “Huh?”

“Boxes,” Dorie repeated, this time with assurance since avoidance was absolutely the way to get through this day. “And paint.” Shit. “You do have Home Depot here in Iowa, right?”

Ignoring the fact that Fitz was clearly amused by all this, Dorie headed toward her office with a quickly jabbed finger point at Fitz. “You’re not leaving me alone here. You do realize that, right?”

Fitz laughed and shook her head again. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Which was a damn good thing. Because Dorie had no intention of making a fool of herself in front of Nate Hawkins, Wash Fairfield and whoever else they could drag up. But someone was going to need to remind her to keep breathing.

Chapter Nine

Nate watched the sun come up through his mother’s kitchen window. He’d let himself get more and more caught up in “the life,” as Wash used to call it, and then he’d allowed Courtney to become an excuse for not coming home. Being here in his mom’s house, spending time with Fitz and Wash—even Jules—was reminding him that he actually loved it here. That it nourished him. Breathed life into what had been turning into a brittle shell. The only problem right now was that the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll.

Sleepless nights one and two had been due to Dorie, so he didn’t totally mind. Number three was a little more complicated, thanks to his dinner at Jules’s. That she and her husband weren’t doing well had been plain as day. He hated seeing his sister unhappy, but since he’d grown up with his brother-in-law and never been a big fan, he actually thought she’d be better off without the guy.

But it had brought Nate right back to those last few months with Courtney. The barely concealed tension, the lack of any warmth... The general sense that something was about to blow—and not really caring enough to fix it. It had also exposed nearly every raw nerve he’d been dealing with for years, starting with his own parents’ broken marriage thanks to his father’s drinking and infidelities.

Maybe this irrational attraction to Dorie was more about what he’d never really had as opposed to what he wanted from
her
.

Or, hell, maybe it was just a simple rebound thing. That was the most likely explanation. Whatever it was, he’d made every attempt to resist it last night by deliberately not giving in to the temptation to go by her place again last night and instead heading directly back to his mom’s.

After tossing and turning all night, when it was finally light enough to stop pretending he was asleep, he’d opened his eyes and been more than a little unsettled at how much he’d missed seeing her. Especially since she’d spent most of yesterday afternoon running errands with Fitz—an excuse, he was pretty sure, to avoid him after whatever it was that had happened between them in the morning.

Putting that out of his head, he took out his phone. There were nearly a dozen emails, the most urgent of which, of course, was from Pete about management. They wanted to “discuss NateGate.” They weren’t happy that it hadn’t gone away—as if he was over the moon about it. But there was good news, too. Pete’s contact at the police department said they’d be releasing a statement today that would officially clear Nate of all charges. To be honest, that was more of a relief than he’d like to admit. He hadn’t been drunk—he knew that without question—and he’d wanted to believe he hadn’t been at fault. But he had almost no memory of the accident itself, so knowing for sure that he hadn’t caused it was a huge weight off his chest.

Except now Alexis, his publicist, wanted to put out a statement
ASAP
and Mark, his agent, was already lining up new endorsements for a star reborn, none of which he wanted to deal with in any way.

Nate sent a note to Pete that if the GM really wanted to meet with him, he’d be available Sunday morning at ten. Sure, it was a diva move, but he was pissed off and he wanted to make them work for it. Yeah, he got how important it was for a brand-new team to start off clean, but he had absolutely zero control over this situation and wasn’t sure what they expected him to do about it. And, honestly, he’d known the people involved for a long time—it would have been nice if they’d been a little more supportive, even if only behind the scenes.

He threw his phone on the table and tried to concentrate on the beauty of the sunrise again, but to no avail. After an hour’s run that only had him doing more useless thinking, he jumped in the shower and then got himself the hell out of there.

Half an hour later he was on Main Street. Telling himself that he was just there to check up on Jules, he headed to her café. She looked up when the door opened, her smile an indication that they were on their way back to being okay.

It took almost half an hour for him to walk from the front door to Jules, thanks to all the well-wishers. Which was...good. Not unexpected. He’d always had unequivocal support from the people in town and, it appeared, that hadn’t changed even with the whole NateGate thing. At the same time, it was exhausting. If he had to shake one more hand as he confirmed to yet another acquaintance that, yes, it sucked to have this going on, and, no, he wasn’t worried about his knee...

Inspiration was hands down a better place for him to be than Chicago was right now, but it still wasn’t quite the escape he’d been seeking. Except when he was with Dorie. Her apartment, the library...Inspiration felt pretty good then.

When Nate finally got to the counter, Jules brightened her smile. “Nate, hi. Do you remember Barb O’Reilly? Her husband coaches the boys’ basketball team.”

He turned to the woman standing across from his sister. “Coach is doing a great job this year. They might actually take it all the way.”

Barb’s face froze. Then she broke into a huge grin. “You follow the team? Oh, my
God
.”

Laughing, Jules reached out and touched Barb’s arm. “Didn’t we tell you he did?” She rolled her eyes. “Why doesn’t anyone ever believe us when we say that?”

Clutching Jules’s hand, Barb turned to Nate and said, “Will you come to their game today? They’re playing at 3:30 in the gym. You know—the gym that, um, you guys built for them.”

Nate started to open his mouth and give the same nonanswer he’d given to Tuck a few nights before—but then he suddenly realized that thinking of Dorie had put him in a much better mood and he kind of actually
wanted
to go. With a genuine smile, he answered, “I think I could swing that. But you should probably let it be a surprise.” That way he could just sneak in the back, hang out with the coaches and not have to talk to anyone except the kids playing.

After Barb left, Nate ordered a coffee for himself and then decided that it couldn’t hurt to bring some over to his aunt and uncle. And, yes, Dorie. If she ran away again? He’d deal with that if he needed to. “I’ll take some muffins, too.”

A few minutes later he found himself in front of the library, pastry box in one hand, tray full of coffees in the other. He had no idea whether Aunt Laura and Uncle A would be working this morning—wasn’t entirely sure he wanted them to be. But he was one hundred percent working under the pretense that he was here for them.

It did bother him that he wasn’t sure of the reaction he’d get from Dorie—that he was actually manufacturing reasons to see her. Heading up the walkway he decided it didn’t matter. Right now he just wanted to see that smile again. To feel the weight lift off his chest when she looked his way. If his motives weren’t pure, so be it. It wasn’t like he’d made her any promises he couldn’t keep. He wasn’t even sure he’d see her again after this week. Except the second he walked in the door, he knew he was fooling himself. His blood ran cold at the sight of her sitting up on Wash’s shoulders, laughing as she almost lost her balance while reaching up to change a lightbulb. As she steadied herself by wrapping her arms around Wash’s head, clamping her thighs down on his shoulders.

“Need a little help?” Nate asked, the door snapping closed behind him.

The amusement in Wash’s eyes as he turned did nothing to settle Nate down.

“Oh, my gosh.” Dorie reached her arms out to Nate, completely unaware of any tension, sexual or otherwise. Nate, on the other hand, practically dropped the coffee and muffins on the floor in his rush to grab her. Luckily, there was a step stool nearby to catch them so he didn’t make a total fool of himself. Thank God he was used to moving on instinct rather than thought. Being an elite athlete had its perks.

She fell into him, gripping his shoulders as his hands went to her hips. His eyes locked on to hers and everything came to a thundering halt as the earth stopped spinning on its axis. The building could have fallen down around them and he wouldn’t have cared. He had to count to ten in Japanese, for fuck’s sake, in order not to dip his head down and kiss her. No,
claim
her.

Fuck.

Two days, he’d known her. Two days. He’d known Courtney for two
years
and he’d never felt like this.

He lowered Dorie to the floor and took a step back. “I, uh, brought coffee. For my, um, aunt and uncle. And you. Cream, light sugar, right?” He couldn’t stop his tongue from tangling itself up with words.
Jesus.

“Thanks,” she said, not looking at him as she pulled away. She picked up the tray. “I’ll bring it to them.”

It wasn’t until she’d disappeared from sight that Nate noticed Wash staring at him. “Shit, boy,” Wash said, a smile erupting as he clapped Nate on the shoulder. “You have it bad.”

Even if he wanted to deny it, Nate wasn’t sure he could. His heart was racing so fast that he felt dizzy. A picket fence suddenly appeared in the corner of his mind, and it scared the hell out of him. He pushed it right back out.

“Just a momentary distraction,” he mumbled, trying more to convince himself than Wash.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I threw my hat into the ring?”

Nate only barely resisted throwing Wash up against the wall. Since they seemed to have overcome whatever tension had built up over the past two years—farm chores went a long way in rebuilding bonds—that would have been a seriously bad move. It also would have sent a message he wasn’t at all ready to send.

But Wash wasn’t fooled, even though he gave a deceptively easy smile. “I mean, you’re heading back to Chicago soon and you can be damn sure someone’s gonna be stepping in if there’s a void.” He bent down to pick up the box Jules had packed. Opened it up and lifted the tissue paper. “Hell, if she’s there tonight?” He shook his head. “Only reason she hasn’t been snatched up is because no one’s met her yet.”

Trivia night. Right. Nate had planned on making an appearance, but only briefly. Stopping in at the Bombers’s game this afternoon was already more than he’d planned. But Wash was right. From what Nate could tell, Dorie had been either at work or in the apartment pretty much since she’d arrived in Inspiration. It was a small enough town that anyone new stood out. If anyone else had even a fraction of the reaction to her that Nate was having...

Nate shook his head. “It won’t work.” He needed to hear the words in order to absorb them. There were snowballs in hell, and then another ten stops down that road was the chance of something happening between them.

But then Wash’s snapped, “Why?” got his attention. “Getting ready to cut and run again?”

Because, of course, all that talk had just been Wash goading him. Not to be an ass—Wash wasn’t like that and never had been. But he was one of the few people in the world who could get past Nate’s walls, could get him to admit something personal.

And, yes. Even though it had only been a matter of hours—at the farm that first day back, and then working at the library yesterday—Nate had his brother back. So for the first time in longer than he could remember, he spoke God’s honest truth. “I have no idea what in the fuck I’m doing.”

He truly didn’t. Because, yes, ‘cut and run’ had been his MO for a long time. Pretty much from his first days in college all the way up to when he’d met Courtney. And when it came down to it, his relationship with Courtney had been the exact same thing—yes, he’d been involved with only one woman. But that’s really all it had been. They’d been perfect on paper, both at the top of their fields, completely untouchable. But, Nate was beginning to realize, it had been a business relationship more than anything else. Business with benefits.

He’d played his part well, and so had she. But into each other the way two people about to be married should be? Not even close. It had been all body, no soul. And she hadn’t cared enough to chase him down; if anything, she’d deliberately pushed him away.

To actually be invested in someone? To want to stick around merely because being in their presence made everything...
better
?

Nope. No fucking clue what to do with that.

The smile came back into Wash’s eyes. “You should probably figure that out.” Taking a muffin out of the box, he took a bite as he closed the lid.

“No shit,” Nate muttered. Sinking back against the wall, he watched Wash turn and walk off in the same direction as Dorie.

So what exactly could happen? He’d had no intention of staying in Inspiration longer than a week, two at the absolute outside. Even if it turned out his playing days were coming to an end sooner rather than later, he’d... Well, there had been some vague conversation when they’d been negotiating the new contract—coaching, maybe. Player development. Whatever it was, it was highly unlikely he’d be spending much time in Iowa.

So, yes. He’d damn well better figure out what he was doing. Because it wasn’t exactly a foregone conclusion that Dorie even
wanted
to stay in the picture. He’d never seen anyone run from hot to cold and back again as quickly as she did. If he wanted to be doing whatever-it-was with her? He had some major work to do.

* * *

What was
that
?

The fact that Dorie was able to carry the coffees to the back room was a miracle; she wasn’t sure how she was breathing, much less walking. She handed off the drinks, grabbed her own and then practically ran to her office and locked herself inside so that there was no chance she’d bump into Nate and Wash on the way.

Leaning back in her chair, she forced herself to do a few cleansing, count-to-ten breaths. Of course, she could only ever get to four and usually made herself cough her lungs out in the process, so she put an end to that quickly and grabbed her coffee instead. Yes. God, yes. It was as perfect as he was. Eyes closed, she let its warmth seep through her. Calm her. Bring some normalcy back into a life that suddenly had her sitting a few rooms over from one of the greatest athletes in the history of baseball.

Which was all well and good until she sat up, sputtering, as she realized that the coffee was indeed exactly as she liked it. And that freaked her out more than the time her brothers had made her sit through a
Paranormal Activity
marathon. In their grandparents’ freaky middle-of-the-woods-no-one-will-hear-you-scream house. On Friday the thirteenth.