She started the conversation by asking, “Did you deliver our appreciation gifts to the softball players?”
Jill had wanted to extend a special thank-you to those who had participated. She’d purchased crystal softballs and had them inscribed with Barefoot Rogue and the inaugural date. Carrie had placed her ball on the designer shelving in the penthouse.
“I still need to hand out gifts to Mike, Agnes, and Aidan,” Jill said. “I thought you might do that for me on Monday.”
“No construction trailer for you?” Carrie guessed.
Jill shook her head. “I’d rather not.”
“Why not?” from Carrie.
Jill reached for her salad. She took several bites, but that didn’t distract Carrie. “Is it because of Aidan?” she asked.
Jill swallowed hard. “He likes me.”
“That’s a definite reason to avoid the man.”
“No need to be sarcastic.”
“No need to be stupid.”
Jill blinked. “You’ve never called me stupid.”
“You haven’t been until now.” Carrie eased up a little. “What’s the problem, Jillie Mac? I know you’ve got feelings for him.”
“I’ve never done well in relationships.”
“There’s always a first time.” She thought of Mike Burke, and how different he was now from when she’d first met him.
“I’m not good with commitment.”
“It gets easier with the right person.”
“I just don’t know,” she said with a sigh.
“Aidan’s a strong, honorable man,” Carrie said. “He’s kind and dependable. You should give him a chance.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of Aidan or afraid of you?”
“Me,” Jill admitted. “Aidan is special. I don’t want to screw things up with him.”
“Apparently you already have. You look miserable.”
“I am miserable.”
“Fix it,” Carrie gently advised. “You’ve had men come and go in your life. Make room for Aidan to stay.”
Jill went back to eating her salad. Her thoughts were her own. Carrie reached for the television remote and turned on the set.
SportsCenter
announced the evening baseball game. The Richmond Rogues were playing the St. Louis Colonels, at home.
“What a great start to the season,” said Carrie as the players were introduced and the National Anthem was sung by a local recording artist. “We need popcorn.”
She returned her own salad plate to the kitchen and searched the cupboards for a box of Orville Redenbacher Kettle Corn. Finding it, she opened a bag and put it in the microwave. There was something soothing about the popping of the kernels. She made two bags, emptied them both into a big plastic bowl.
Jill had moved to the center cushion for a direct view of the TV. She’d angled the coffee table left, so she could pull up the ottoman. Her gaze was now on Carrie, and not on the game. Her expression was curious, puzzled, and slightly amused.
She held up a single white sock along with one Nike tennis shoe. “I found these under the table. Not your size,” she said. “You wear a seven, these are twelve.”
She dangled a pair of men’s Armani boxers by the waistband. Her lips pursed. “Who do I know who likes silk?” she asked.
Oh, crap! Carrie was so startled by the question, she tripped over her own feet. She spilled the popcorn. She dropped down on her hands and knees and quickly cleaned up her mess. “Where did you find those?” Her voice squeaked.
“The boxers were wedged between the couch cushions.” She set the underwear aside.
Mike’s clothes. She hadn’t bothered to pick up after him. The evidence was damning. Could she avoid the question? she wondered. “Back to the microwave,” she tried.
“Not so fast.” Jill stopped her. “How long have you been seeing Mike Burke?” she wanted to know.
“How do you know it’s Mike?”
She pointed to an empty can of Guinness on a side table, then produced a folded sheet of paper. “Mike’s favorite beer,” she noted. “I also found his travel itinerary.”
“Snooping, were you?” She couldn’t take offense. Jill was her best friend.
“Everything was out in the open,” Jill told her. “You weren’t expecting me to stop by. Otherwise you would’ve cleaned up. The place would’ve been spotless. There’d be no signs of your man.”
That was true. Carrie had yet to recycle the can of beer. She could still picture Mike sitting and enjoying the Guinness after a long day at the construction site. She’d sat beside him; his arm had been around her. It had been a very cozy, comfortable night.
“How long have you been together?” asked Jill. “How serious are you?”
“We like each other,” Carrie said as she headed to the kitchen to pop another batch of popcorn. More careful this time, she returned to the sofa. She positioned the bowl between them, then took a few bites before adding, “I have no idea where our relationship is headed, but I like what we have now. We enjoy each other’s company, especially in the Jacuzzi.” She felt her cheeks heat. “Those jets can blast.”
“I’m sure they do.” Jill started to laugh, and couldn’t stop. She nearly fell off the sofa. It was a release for her, Carrie realized. She laughed until the moment she buried her face in her hands and cried.
Carrie had never seen her friend so sad. Jill had always been the strong one. Yet at that moment, she shattered. Jill was visibly vulnerable. Broken. Carrie set the bowl of popcorn on the ottoman and hugged her.
Hugged her until her tears dried, and she sighed heavily. “I need Kleenex,” Jill said.
Carrie stood, hurried down the hallway to her bedroom, and brought back a box. It was half full. She patted Jill on the back as she would a child. Then brushed her hair behind her ears.
Jill blew her nose loudly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been a long week. I’ve worked a lot of hours, gotten little sleep. And”—her breath caught—“I miss Aidan.”
“I’m sure he’s missed you, too.”
Jill wiped her eyes. “I always screw up serious relationships.”
“Because you weren’t with the right man,” offered Carrie. “Telling someone you like them shouldn’t send them running.”
Jill reached for another Kleenex. “I’m the one running now.”
“Slow down, Jillie Mac. Aidan’s a decent guy.”
“I should probably talk to him.”
Carrie nodded. “Probably should.”
“What’s happened to us?” Jill asked. “We came to Barefoot William to promote spring training—”
“And were fortunate to find two men who care about us,” Carrie finished for her.
Jill lifted an eyebrow. “You’re sure about Mike?”
“Positive.” She grinned then. “He no longer calls me Vanilla.”
“A very good sign,” Jill agreed.
Carrie then shared Mike’s history with Rylan, and how Ry had recommended Mike for the assistant pitching coach position. That was the reason Mike wasn’t at the penthouse. He was in Richmond for the weekend, being wined and dined and interviewed.
“He’s got a big decision ahead of him,” Carrie stated. “Will he stay in construction or head to the major leagues?”
“Whatever he decides, I wish him well.”
Carrie touched Jill’s shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“I’m better now,” Jill told her.
“Let’s watch the game then,” said Carrie. She turned up the volume. “It’s the Rogues’ season opener. I hope they kick St. Louis’s ass.”
The game was action-packed. No team led for more than an inning. Bottom of the ninth, and the score was tied. Richmond faced two outs. No one was on base. The game could go into overtime.
Rylan Cates was on deck. The stadium rocked. Fans were on their feet, cheering, stomping, pointing foam fingers toward the sky. They wanted a home run.
“Major pressure,” said Jill. “Rylan needs to prove himself.”
Carrie watched as he went full count, three balls and two strikes. She could barely breathe.
“Now!” both she and Jill shouted as a fastball crossed the plate.
Rylan didn’t hesitate. He hammered the ball over the center field fence. Long and gone. He ran the bases, came home. The final score was Rogues 9; Colonels 8.
Excitement broke on the field and in the stands. The Rogues were superstitious. Winning the home opener was a good omen. The season was theirs.
The women watched the interviews that followed. The press caught Rylan on his way back to the locker room. He was hot and sweaty but stopped for reporters and answered their questions. He gave credit to team effort and downplayed his final home run.
“He’s good looking and gracious,” said Jill. “The Rogues have a new hero.”
Carrie grinned. “Surfer dude can definitely play ball.”
Jill pushed off the sofa, said, “I’m calling it a night. Thanks for everything, Carrie.”
“What are friends for?”
“We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we?” asked Jill.
“Our best days are ahead of us, I’m sure of it,” Carrie said as she walked Jill to the door.
They exchanged a sisterly hug before Jill left. Carrie held her breath. The next person to walk through the door would be Mike Burke. She couldn’t wait to see him.
Mike appeared Monday evening, just in time for dinner. He’d texted Carrie when his plane landed. He wanted to meet with Aidan before he came home. She was on pins and needles, but she understood his need to square things with his boss. He’d take care of business, and then she’d give him pleasure.
Two hours later, he didn’t knock, merely walked in. She met him in the hallway. He picked her up, swung her around. Set her down gently. “I’m home,” he said simply.
She flashed her braces. “I’m so glad.”
“I have a lot to share with you.”
“Dinner or discussion first?”
“Let’s talk.”
She went to the kitchen and turned down the oven on her hamburger casserole. She’d discovered Mike liked simple but hardy food. She could cook the basics.
She joined him on the couch, sitting close. He curved his arm about her shoulders. He then kissed her with the passion of a man who’d missed his woman. Carrie liked being missed.
It took him a while to say, “Traveling to Richmond was the second best experience of my life. You were my first best,” he wanted her to know. She was pleased by that fact.
“The front office treated me like a first-round draft pick. It was a busy weekend with the season opener. I met and talked to everyone involved with the team. I watched the game from the owner’s box. I was impressed.”
“Where do things stand?” Carrie asked, suddenly anxious.
“I had expected to fly back for further talks, but Risk Kincaid indicated on Sunday that the job was mine if I wanted it.”
Carrie’s throat swelled with emotion. “Congratulations.” Tears filled her eyes. Mike was about to enter major league baseball. She was happy for him.
He rolled his hip, reached into the pocket of his navy dress slacks, and removed two business cards. He held up the first for her to see. She read the script on the cream-colored velum:
Risk Kincaid, Richmond Rogues Organization, Managing General Partner/Co-chairman.
Mike went on to rip the card in half.
Carrie’s jaw dropped. She felt a moment of panic. “What are you doing and why?”
“Easy, babe,” he said, calming her. He fingered the second card, kept it just out of her reach. He built the suspense. “This is where I’m meant to be.” He passed the white business card to her.
She held his decision in her hands. Carrie’s eyes blurred once again when she read the bold block letters:
CATES AND BURKE GENERAL CONTRACTORS. “
You’re sure?” Her voice was watery.
“I believe in us as much as I believe in my future in construction,” he said with conviction. “Aidan had planned to make me partner after the softball game. Risk offered me a position with the Rogues before Aidan could pitch our partnership. Aidan didn’t stand in my way. He pushed me to go to Richmond; to be a part of the team.”
Mike grew thoughtful. “Rylan and I are square now. He took me out to dinner Friday night. We talked. I can’t relive my past, but I can move forward.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her. “I offered to pay Aidan rent for staying here. He declined. He’s giving us the penthouse for a wedding present.”
Carrie had a hard time taking it all in. “You want to marry me?” she asked.
“The sooner the better,” he said. “I wasted much of my life wishing for something I could never have. Now what I want most is you. Celebrate forever with me, Carrie Waters.”
His words touched her heart. “I want to spend my life with you,” she said. “You, me, and the jets in the Jacuzzi.”
Mike threw back his head and laughed deeply. He rose then, tugged her to her feet. “Dinner’s going to have to wait. It’s been three days. I want you.”
She wanted him, too.
They had sex in the Jacuzzi tub, and then ate her blackened casserole. It was overcooked, but neither of them cared. There was nothing wrong with crunchy noodles.
Midnight drew them to Mike’s bedroom.
Pratesi tucked them in.
They slept tight.
J
illian Mac was wrapped so tight she couldn’t breathe. She’d driven to the construction site to deliver the crystal softballs to Agnes, Mike, and Aidan. She’d sat in her Triumph for an inordinately long time. Three o’clock crept up on four.
She leaned back against the headrest, curved her spine into the leather seat. Slunk low. She hadn’t seen Aidan for two weeks now, which was far too long. It was her fault. Yesterday she’d gotten in her car and headed to the site, only to turn around at the gate. The administrative trailer loomed large and intimidating, and she’d chickened out.
Today she’d gathered her courage and given her name to the security guard. He’d let her pass. She’d parked next to Aidan’s SUV. The Armada cast shade onto her car. She let her vehicle idle. It would be so easy to back up and leave.
What was wrong with her? She’d always been gutsy. She hated feeling vulnerable. She wondered if Aidan had changed his mind about her. She hoped not. She was just coming to grips with their relationship. All she needed was a little more time.
A low-rumbling Porsche pulled in beside her. Mike Burke cut the engine. High-maintenance vehicle; high-octane man, Jill thought. He climbed out and strode around to her side of the car. He tapped on her window; tapped until she acknowledged him. Irritating man.
She rolled down her window, glared at him. His hair was mussed; his jaw unshaven. He wore a black T-shirt scripted with
Armed and Dangerous with a Nail Gun
. His jeans were torn at the knees. His work boots were worn.
He eyed her critically and said, “You look like shit.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had little color in her cheeks. Her hair was dull. “You’ve interrupted my meditation,” she informed him.
He grunted. “You haven’t found peace, given the tone of your voice. Maybe you need a new mantra.”
“Maybe you need to mind your own business.”
He leaned his hip against her car door. “Looking for Aidan? He’s in his office.”
Mike could be her ambassador of goodwill. She reached across the console, gathered the box of crystal softballs, and tried to hand them to him. “Would you take these inside for me? Appreciation gifts for those who played.”
He shook his head. “Deliver them yourself.”
“You could be more helpful.”
“You’re not helpless.”
She scowled at him.
He squinted at the gift box. “I should have a bigger ball than everyone else. I was both coach and pitcher.”
She came back with, “You have brass balls, Mike. Two brass are worth one crystal.”
He grinned. “Suppose so.”
Congratulations were in order for this man who irritated the hell out of her. She’d heard from Carrie that Mike had proposed. He’d also become Aidan’s business partner overnight. She forced herself to get along with him. “I wish you and Carrie well,” she managed. “Take care of her always. Otherwise I’ll come after you with both knees raised.”
“Same goes for you and Aidan,” he said, looking serious. “You’re killing him. When he’s not happy, I’m not happy. You don’t want me miserable.”
Could Aidan possibly be feeling as bad as she? According to Mike, it was a distinct possibility. She needed to see for herself. She turned off the engine, palmed the key. He moved and she climbed out, carrying the box.
He followed her to the trailer. “Watch your step,” he said when she’d taken her first. “You don’t want to break any balls.”
Once she was through the door, Agnes greeted Jill warmly. “How do you like my makeover?” the receptionist asked. She patted her hair. “Playing softball, being in the sun, inspired my highlights.”
“You look gorgeous,” Jill said, admiring the older woman. Her transformation was stunning. Pale streaks of blond made her look ten years younger. The pink blush on her cheekbones gave her a glow. She was styling with her new cat’s-eye glasses.
Jill set the gift box on Agnes’s desk. She then presented Agnes with a sparkling softball. Agnes was so excited she cleared away all paperwork, sweeping a stack of files into her desk drawer, so the ball would have a place of honor by her nameplate.
“Mike?” Jill held the next softball out to him.
He took it, tossed it in the air. The crystal ball caught the overhead lights and cast rainbow prisms on the ceiling. “It goes home with me,” he said. “Carrie and I will have a matched pair.”
Jill liked that idea. A sneeze so loud it blew from Aidan’s office into reception preceded Sadie’s entrance. The pointer shook herself, then ambled toward Jill. The dog’s nose was runny, and Jill reached for the small box of Kleenex on Agnes’s desk. She gently wiped Sadie’s nose, then tossed the tissue in the trash can. Sadie looked at her with cloudy, watery eyes. Jill felt awful for her.
“What’s wrong with Sadie?” Jill asked, concerned.
“She has spring allergies.” Aidan had appeared in the hallway. “She sneezes, same as a person. She’s on medication.”
Jill’s heart quickened. She stared at Aidan, tried to define the moment. He stood tall and handsome; his tone was cordial. His expression was closed. He had his own dark circles under his eyes. There was leanness in his cheeks that sharpened his features. He wore a yellow-and-white striped button-down and khakis. A brown sport coat was slung over his shoulder. He carried a large manila envelope in one hand and a leather athletic bag in the other. He looked ready to travel.
“Going someplace?” she asked, wondering if he would be gone long. Hoping not.
“I’m headed to Tampa,” he told her. “I want to check on the cardiac unit we’re building.”
“He’s driving, and will be gone a week,” Mike added. He stood by Agnes’s desk; his hand was in the bear cookie jar. “Oatmeal raisin. You are good to me.”
“Who’s watching Sadie while you’re away?” Jill asked.
“Olive wanted to babysit Sad,” Aidan said. “She’s good at it. The parrot squawks at Shaye when Sadie stands at the door needing to go out. Olive knows when it’s mealtime.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Unfortunately Sadie’s allergies are at their worst. I don’t want her sneezing on Olive.”
“There’d be ruffled feathers,” said Mike. He then offered, “I’m happy to take her.”
“You’d let her nose run,” Aidan said.
“I wouldn’t,” Jill said softly. “I’d love the company.” A second heartbeat at the houseboat would be welcome.
Aidan met her gaze, considered her offer. “If you’re sure. But should it not work out, call my sister. She’ll come get Sadie.”
“We’ll be fine.” Jill was her own boss; she could set her own hours. She looked forward to spending time with the pointer. “Can she ride in my Triumph?”
“There’s not a lot of room on your passenger seat. I’d rather she wasn’t cramped,” said Aidan. “I can drive Sadie to the Horizon. Leave her with you.”
“That will work,” Jill agreed. She reached into the box and gave Aidan the last crystal softball. “A memento of the day.”
Instead of taking it to his office, he surprised her by slipping it in the pocket of his sports jacket. Aidan walked to the door; gave one last instruction to his girls. “Should anyone be looking for me, refer them to Mike,” he said. “It’s time to break in my new partner.”
The ladies clapped their approval.
“Walton Masonry will have the perimeter sidewalks poured by the time of your return,” Mike promised, aware of the work schedule. “We’ll have electricity in the stadium grounds by then, too.”
“I want the sidewalks smooth.” Aidan was emphatic. “One solid sheet, no lines or cracks.”
Jill listened, had a flicker of an idea. “Tell me more about the walkways,” she requested.
Mike responded with, “They lead in from the parking lot and surround the ballpark.”
Jill’s mind worked overtime. Aidan would be out of town, but she wanted to discuss her thought with Carrie before they approached Mike. He was a partner now, after all, and might be more receptive than Aidan.
Mike stepped up and lifted Sadie against his chest. “You look too pretty to get fur all over you,” he said to Aidan. Sadie took that moment to sneeze. Mike made a face. “My arm’s wet; I need a Kleenex.”
Agnes hurried from behind her desk, two tissues in hand. She quickly cleaned him up. “Much better now,” she said.
Aidan held the door for Mike, Sadie, and Jill. They trooped out. Aidan came down the steps right behind her. Jill could feel his breath on her neck; the warmth of his body. She’d missed their closeness.
Mike loaded Sadie in the back of Aidan’s SUV. The men bumped fists. “Have a good trip,” Mike said over his shoulder as he headed back to the trailer.
Jill and Aidan left the construction site amid outgoing cement trucks. She lost sight of him behind the concrete mixers. She drove slowly, avoiding the potholes. Her Triumph swayed with each truck that passed her. They were moving at a good clip. She clutched the steering wheel tightly, until she reached the turnoff to the main highway. She breathed easier then.
Aidan pulled up beside her. He rolled down his window, and she did the same. “It got crowded back there,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She responded with, “Next time I visit your site, I’m driving a tank.”
“Much safer than your sports car,” he agreed. “I’ll contact Mike. We need to post speed limits.”
They reached Land’s End within minutes. They parked, and Aidan helped Sadie out of his vehicle and onto the houseboat. He then unloaded two brown grocery sacks of food and treats, several toys, and Sadie’s therapeutic bed.
He handed Jill the pointer’s allergy medication, saying, “She’s had her pill for today. Dr. Schober’s office and emergency numbers are on the label. He’s been the Barefoot William veterinarian for forty years. He makes house calls.”
“Hopefully I won’t need to reach him.”
Sadie nudged Jill’s hand with her nose. The dog wasn’t sure what was going on. She needed reassurance. Jill scratched her ear. “A girls’ week,” she said. “I’ll take good care of you.” Sadie wagged her tail.
“I’m off,” Aidan said when there was nothing more to say. He gave Sadie a hug, but remained distant with Jill. “See you both when I get back.”
He walked to the door, and Sadie trailed after him. “Stay, girl,” he told her. Sadie whined.
“I have treats.” Jill offered. That got Sadie’s attention. Her ears perked up. She returned to Jill. Jill reached into the paper bag and gave her a soft Milk Bone chew. Sadie lay down and ate it. It took her a while to finish—she didn’t have many teeth.
Aidan was halfway out the door when he turned back to her. She froze that moment in her mind. “My feelings haven’t changed, Jillian McMillan,” he said. “I still like you.” And he was gone.
Her heart went with him. The man cared for her still, and he wasn’t afraid to say so. She needed to open up to him, too; perhaps when he returned from Tampa. She didn’t want to miss another opportunity.
Jill relaxed with Sadie the rest of the day. They ate dinner together, though Sadie ate much slower than Jill. Jill had finished her grilled cheese long before Sadie worked through her bowl of kibble. A walk followed. Jill climbed down the ladder, then lifted Sadie from the front deck. The dog cooperated. No wiggling. They sauntered down the dock, and Sadie seemed fascinated by the pelicans. She would sniff the air, then point. She held the three-legged position for several seconds. She was still a hunter at heart.
It took them over an hour to reach the end of the dock and return. The houseboat residents called to Sadie, a few came off their vessels to pet her. Jill met several more of Aidan’s relatives. They all loved baseball.
By the time they made it back to the Horizon, Sadie was moving slower than when they’d started. She’d also begun to wheeze. Deep, long-heaving wheezes. Jill rubbed her chest, but that didn’t seem to help. Sadie couldn’t catch her breath.
Jill grabbed the dog’s medicine bottle from the grocery bag. Read the label. Cell phone in hand, she dialed the veterinarian. She was amazed that he picked up and not an answering service. Afraid for Sadie’s health, she heard her voice shaking as she explained the situation. Dr. Schober agreed to make a house call. Jill gave him her address.
Jill stared at the wall clock, counting down the minutes. The vet couldn’t arrive fast enough, as far as she was concerned. She sat on the floor, holding Sadie, praying she would be all right. Twenty minutes later, a fit man in his sixties arrived on a ten-speed bike. Jill was very glad to see him.
Dale Schober climbed the boarding ladder carrying a backpack. He didn’t knock, but entered with purpose. He introduced himself as he knelt down beside Sadie. He unzipped his pack, brought out his stethoscope, and gave the dog a thorough examination.
“She started wheezing when we came back from our walk,” Jill told him. “She scared me, not being able to breathe.”
“I understand your concern,” he said. “Aidan recently had her at my office for her yearly exam. She’s healthy for a senior. She could be allergic to ragweed, spring tree pollen, whatever’s blooming. She may have inhaled something on your walk.”
Jill felt awful. “I had no idea our walk would cause her distress.”
“It could’ve happened to you or to Aidan had he been home,” the doctor reassured her. “She’s calmed down now and is already breathing easier.”
Jill sighed in relief. “I feel very protective of her.”
“Seniors are special,” Dr. Schober agreed as he gently rubbed Sadie’s shoulders. “Steam will help relieve her congestion. Next time you take a shower, bring her in the bathroom with you. Let her sit outside the shower door. Steam from the hot water will clear her sinuses and help her breathe easier. It’s similar to a nebulizer treatment.”
He stood then, his backpack in hand. “Call anytime,” he said. “Babysitting a geriatric dog can be as daunting as taking care of an aging grandparent.” He gave Sadie one last pat, then departed.
Jill was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the pointer. Sadie rested her head on her knee. Her breathing was still a little raspy. “I could use a shower and you could use some steam,” she told the dog. She helped Sadie up. They headed for the bath.
Over the next few days, Jill ran a lot of showers. Sadie’s breathing gradually improved. Jill refused to leave the pointer while she worked, so she switched vehicles with Carrie, and now drove the Cube. Sadie could stretch out in the back to her heart’s content. Jill could keep a constant eye on her.