Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) (41 page)

“I saw you talking to Jack,” Maggie said, going for super casual as she dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked the front door. She walked through the house towards the kitchen, flicking the lights on and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Unscrewing the lid, she took a long drink and handed the bottle over to Noah when she was done.

“Yeah, we talked,” Noah said, as he looked at her steadily, amusement rife in his gaze. “Jack’s my best friend. We do that sometimes.”

Maggie tucked herself right back under his arm, resting her head right over his heart. His steady heartbeat calmed and reassured her.

“Maggie, I’m not going to change my mind. Jack can be a persuasive asshole, and he’s horribly stubborn, but there’s nothing he can say. I’m going to Portland, I’ll see the Pioneers’ expert and then I’ll make my decision. And that’s exactly what I told him.”

She glanced up at his face, and wasn’t surprised to see him gazing down at her fondly. “Seriously, Maggie. Have a little faith.”

Wiggling even closer, she let her eyes flutter shut. “I do. Always. In you.” She took a deep breath. “When are you leaving?”

“In two days,” he confessed after a few moments.

Her fingertips tightened around his bicep. “How long?” she asked, because it was needy and pathetic but she didn’t want him gone for a single second. Not when there was this gloriously
now
future dangling right in front of her and she’d just discovered how badly she wanted it.

“A couple of days, probably.” He sounded like he was looking forward to it just about as much as she was.

“Okay,” Maggie said.

“I’ll sleep like shit without you,” he confessed. “I’m already tired just thinking about it.”

“I’m just tired,
period
,” Maggie said, feeling her body begin to shut down from all the extra hours she’d put in during the last week. She wasn’t even sure she could honestly open her eyes up again. “Can I fall asleep just like this?”

“No,” he said, adoration practically seeping out of his voice. Maggie latched onto it and hoped that she’d never stop hearing it. Then the ground was suddenly tilting under her feet and she was swept up in his arms as he carried her out of the kitchen, down the hall and into their bedroom.

He laid her down so gently on the bed, she wanted to burst into tears. Or maybe, Maggie thought, that was just the extreme exhaustion hitting her like a sledgehammer.

“Maggie,” he said, and then repeated her name again, more insistently the second time. Then he sighed as she rolled over and found the pillow, wrapping her arms around it. “So soft,” she mumbled into the flannel pillowcase. “Sleep.”

Noah had almost forgotten how much he disliked Portland. Not the city itself really, or the people in it, or even the Pioneers staff and management, who had always been so great to him. He’d only disliked how he felt here, separate and alone—even though one of the best friends he’d ever had lived here too.

Bryce and his realtor met Noah at his apartment before they were set to meet Jack and a few other of Bryce’s clients who just so happened to play for the Pioneers. Noah knew none of the plans Bryce had made were coincidence—he was pretty sure that the entire three day trip had been arranged to show Noah just how much he was potentially giving up. But as Noah walked through the sleek, modern rooms of his condo, towering above downtown Portland, he tried to remember what about this place that he’d even liked. It felt empty and so, so cold.

“It’s a sick place,” Bryce observed smoothly as he stared down twenty floors to the ant-sized people scurrying on the streets below. “I still can’t believe you’re considering leaving all this behind.”

Noah shrugged. The condo was definitely more Bryce’s taste than his own, which made sense because back when he’d bought it, Noah was new to Portland, new to the serious money of a big Major League contract and desperate for the “cool” factor that Bryce seemed to emanate so effortlessly.

For a while, he’d been just that—“cool”—until somewhere along the line, Noah had discovered that being sought after and admired and worshiped for all the wrong things didn’t make him even the slightest bit fulfilled.

He’d felt empty when Tabitha had left him. He’d felt empty when he’d sat in his apartment through most of October, fighting headaches and the desire to never, ever move from the couch. But he’d never really understood how empty he was until he’d found a place and people in general and a
person
in particular that filled up all those hollow spaces inside.

Even if he ended up playing baseball for the Pioneers next season, he wasn’t going to want to live here. So when the realtor spread the contract out on the marble countertop in the kitchen he’d almost never used, Noah didn’t hesitate. He just signed on the dotted line, barely glancing at the terms and conditions. It was careless but Noah couldn’t find it in himself to care. “I’ll arrange for a photographer next week,” the realtor said, just as smooth and businesslike as Bryce. Noah wasn’t surprised at all that they knew each other.

“What about your stuff?” Bryce asked. “Do you want me to arrange for movers?”

“Ship it all to Sand Point. To my new house,” Noah said recklessly. He couldn’t even think of anything he wanted. He hadn’t missed any of it during the last two months, had he?

“If that’s what you want,” Bryce said, clearly dubious about Noah’s decision. And maybe it was a little crazy to practically move to Sand Point when he hadn’t made a final decision on retirement yet, but just getting rid of this place already made him feel better.

“It’s exactly what I want.” Noah didn’t have to look at Bryce to see the undisguised disapproval in his expression.

Noah knew Bryce didn’t approve of the money he was probably leaving on the table, or the lifestyle he wanted to turn his back on. Didn’t approve of any of these decisions, really, but Noah was done trying to prove anything to anyone.

“I hope you’re keeping your options open,” Bryce said nonchalantly as they headed down to the ground level in the elevator. “It’s a big decision to make so casually.”

Noah barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Of course any decision that he made while not including Bryce every step of the way would be one he considered a little too spontaneous.

“The Pioneers expect you to seriously consider playing if you can,” Bryce continued as they walked out onto the busy sidewalk. It was almost 7 PM and even though it had been drizzling on and off all day, the downtown streets were still crowded.

Noah wasn’t surprised at all that Bryce had decided to hold the dinner at his favorite swanky steakhouse that was only a few blocks from the condo. Back when Noah had bought the property, Bryce had even pointed this out as a major selling point—he’d be only a few minutes away from a “killer meal,” as Bryce had put it.

Noah had found himself there a handful of times but had never loved the overly pretentious atmosphere the way Bryce did. He’d even taken Tabitha once, though restaurants rarely lived up to her very high expectations.

Bryce had reserved a private room for the dinner, and Noah wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised to see not only some of his own Pioneers clients, but several men from the Pioneers management as they entered the secluded dining room.

Jack was already there, absorbed in his phone, which meant he was probably texting with Izzy. But as soon as Jack saw him, he immediately put it away and latched himself onto Noah’s side. “How was the realtor?” Jack asked quietly as Noah made his way around the room, shaking hands and politely but firmly turning away every single inquiry about his health.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it, especially not with a roomful of people who all had a vested interest in him playing baseball for the Pioneers again. As they made small talk with Justin, the Pioneers’ catcher and Hugo, the director of player personnel, Noah was distinctly reminded why he’d left Portland in the first place. It felt like he couldn’t take a single deep breath here; he was constantly being watched and evaluated and found lacking.

It wasn’t his fault that his brain wouldn’t heal faster, Noah thought rebelliously.

As the group ordered drinks and appetizers circulated, Noah told himself he should be having fun. It was precisely these sorts of events that he’d always enjoyed as a player; the friendly camaraderie of a bunch of guys all working towards the same goal—but tonight, it didn’t feel the same as it usually did.

Instead of feeling like part of the group, he felt like he was on the outside looking in. Which was silly, Noah tried to tell himself, Jack was here and a few of the other players he’d been close to (which was obviously engineered by Bryce) and even Hector, the Pioneers’ manager, showed up just as they were finishing their main courses.

It should have been a great evening, an evening that reminded him of everything he’d be giving up if he gave up his baseball career, and Noah couldn’t help but admit he would miss it a little. They had all retreated to the cigar lounge in the bowels of the restaurant but as Bryce jovially—and more than a little drunkenly—passed around Cuban cigars, Noah just couldn’t stop thinking.

“What’s up with you?” Jack hissed good-naturedly, between smoke rings. No doubt Izzy would castrate him later for the smell on his clothes.

“Nothing,” Noah said with a shrug. “I’m cool.”

“You do realize this whole thing was for
you
, right?” Jack said under his breath. “Like it’s practically a whole evening designed around what Noah Fox likes best.”

“Actually,” Noah retorted, “it’s more an interpretation of what Bryce thinks Noah Fox likes best.”

“You’re pissed,” Jack laughed. “You just referred to yourself in third person.”

Noah was a little drunker than he’d realized. But he wasn’t drunk enough to be able to pretend that things hadn’t changed.

“I don’t know. I probably liked this stuff, before. And it’s cool for a night, even. But not as a lifestyle. Not forever.”

“Not forever, huh?” Jack asked with a sly smile. “Here you were lecturing
me
about proposing to Izzy too soon. You’re building a house for that girl. And talking about forever.”

Noah tapped his cigar against the ash tray and settled back in the comfy armchair. “There’s nothing wrong with making plans. And that house is technically for
me
.”

“Right.” Jack’s expression told Noah that he knew better.

“So,” Jack continued, “is tomorrow just another hoop for you to jump through? Bryce said you signed the realtor’s papers today. You must not be intending to come back here. Not to live, at any rate.”

Noah buried further into the chair. He wanted to hide, even from Jack’s questioning.
Especially
from Jack’s questioning. He could lie to the Justins and Hugos and Bryces of the world, but he couldn’t lie to Jack.

“Did you tell Maggie you’d made up your mind?” Jack persisted and Noah couldn’t help but flashback guiltily to yesterday morning, when he’d kissed her goodbye and she’d informed him very seriously that she didn’t want to interfere at all with his decision-making process. She’d been so emphatic, even to the point of telling him that maybe they shouldn’t talk over the next few days, so that he could get enough perspective to make an informed, objective decision.

She’d been so determined and clearly so worried about him that he’d given her as reassuring an embrace as he could. And Noah didn’t really think that he
had
made his decision before he’d left Sand Point, more like he’d known what he wanted and had come to Portland as a confirmation.

“I still have the meeting with the doctor tomorrow, you know,” Noah pointed out.

Jack sighed heavily. “Don’t tease me. It’s just rude.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” But Noah knew—and Jack couldn’t help but see it.

“I know you better, right? Like you’ve made your choice, and you’re settled about it. You’re happy there, and she makes you happy. It’ll be good for you.”

“What if they tell me I can play again?” Noah wondered out loud.

Jack just shrugged. “Don’t let them distract you from what you really want.”

“Seriously, what have you done with Jack Bennett?” Noah deadpanned.

Jack gave him a brilliant smile. “He’s trying not be a selfish asshole and it’s not very easy.”