Out of Her League (22 page)

He shrugged but he didn
’
t speak, which told her the truth. Her firs
t date, and it was because some
one
’
s daddy wanted to weasel his baby boy a better position on her team. Well, she
’
d always had to learn the hard way
. Why should this be any differ
ent?

“
Thanks for the dinner, Chad, but I
’
ll walk home. Think about what I said, and let Todd find his own path.
”

Evie stood, picked up her purse and calmly exited the restaurant. As the door swung shut behind her, she vowed this would be the last date for her.

Joe
wasn't
paying
a
ttention to Julie; he was watch
ing Evie leave her date high and dry. He
’
d be a liar if he said he didn
’
t enjoy that.

When he
’
d come in and seen her there, the rush of joy had been foll
owed quickly by a surge of jeal
ousy toward the pretty boy who had brought her—the same guy who had kissed her cheek at
the ball
park. Joe would never kiss any woman
’
s cheek, for crying out loud. Maybe women enjoyed it, but that was just too bad.

The guy looked like her type. A blond, sun-bronzed, suit-and-tie boy—not too tall or too bulky; he wouldn
’
t tower over Evie the way Joe did. He would never yank on his tie and wish he could rip the thing off before he strangled. That guy probably slept in a tie—and liked it.

“
Hey, Joe?
”

He brought his attention back to Julie with an apologetic smile.
“
Yeah, I
’
m here. Should we order some wine?
”

“
Ooh, could we get champagne
? We can cele
brate.
”

What they had to celebrate, Joe didn
’
t know, but he hated to disappoint a lady. He shrugged and handed her the wine list, which she pored over like a kid taken to a candy buffet. At least that kept her quiet for
a while. She hadn
’
t stopped talking since they
’
d gotten into his car.

She was too young for him. Joe could see that now. At the ballpark, beneath the night lights, which flattered no one, he
’
d thought her at least thirty. Since she had a six-year-old daughter, that seemed
right. But now he could see she was twenty-five, if that, which made her more than ten years younger than him. He just wasn
’
t going to go there.

Though he
’
d admired Julie
’
s shiny red dress when he picked her up—how could he not when the fact that it was a size too small showcased her ample charms to the utmost?—now she reminded him of Marilyn Monroe when she
’
d sung
“Happy Birth
day
”
to JFK. He
’
d read somewhere that Marilyn had to be sewn into her dress, and this had contrib
uted to her breathy, sexy rendition. J
oe could imag
ine Julie needing the same treatment to get into her red number. She
’
d definitely need to be cut out of it. Joe didn
’
t plan to be the guy holding the scissors.

After seeing E
vie in her buttercup-yellow sun
dress and sandals, bare legs and feet peeking from beneath the hem as she swished out the door, the sight of Julie made his eyes sore.

Tonight Evie had worn a little makeup, too, just enough for her summer tan to glow. A little blush, a bit of lipstick. And she
’
d done something to her eyes that had made him go hot all over. Joe wiped his forehead with his napkin. Or maybe it was just too warm for a suit and tie.

“
How about Dom Perignon?
”
Julie asked.
“
I
’
ve always wanted to try some.
”

“
Fine.
”
Joe signaled the waiter and placed the order. Champagne was champagne to him. All things equal, he
’
d rather have a Budweiser.

“
So tell me about the bright lights and the big cities,
”
Julie said as she guzzled Dom. At this rate
she
’
d be loopy before the main course. Joe nudged the bread basket her way, but she just kept staring at him over the rim
of her glass, waiting for an an
swer.

“
Not much to tell. You don
’
t see a lot of a town when you
’
re on the road.
”

“
No? I always
thought you guys got star treat
ment. The best bars, the best restaurants, limos, champagne.
”

Joe resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was so young.
“
Not exa
ctly. You zoom in a few days be
fore a game. Practice so you know the field. Eat at the hotel. Rest as much as you can in another strange bed. And try to focus your mind on your job.
”

Her smile became a pout.
“
That doesn
’
t sound like the party-loving Wildman I
’
ve heard about.
”

“
I admit I did my share of partying in my youth.
”

She lifted the bottl
e in a toast before pouring her
self another glass.
“
So I hear. You
’
re going to have slim pickings around here. This town is hick-ville.
”

“
I find it charming.
”

She laughed, too loud, and the few patrons in the restaurant glanced their way.
“
Charming? As in
‘
Prince
’
? That
’
s my plan, Wild
man. You’re my Prince Charming.”

Joe frowned. He didn
’
t like talk of plans. Of course,
he
had one, but that didn
’
t count. His was wholesome and American. He had a feeling Julie
’
s was anything but.

He downed his champagne and refilled his glass,
more to keep Julie from drinking than because he liked the stuff. Seventy-five dollars a bottle. Jeez.

Their salads arrived, and Joe dug in. Julie picked at hers. He wished she
’
d eat, but he suspected eating wasn
’
t an option in that dress.

“
So what are your plans, Julie? Your hopes and your dreams?
”

“
They
’
re all the same. Get outta this dump.
”

Joe glanced around, hoping the waiter wasn
’
t nearby.
“
This is a nice restaurant.
”

“
It
’
s the best in town, which isn
’
t saying much. But I meant get outta town. When you go, I plan to go with you.
”

Joe choked on a cherry tomato, took a gulp of champagne and choked some more. When he finally got his breath back he shook his head.
“
Julie, I
’
m not going anywhere. I
’
ve come to Oak Grove to stay. I plan to settle down, have a family.
”

Her bull
’
s-eye red mouth fell open.
“
No way.
”

“
Yes, way.
”

She ran a fingertip down the back of his hand where it rested on the table. He felt nothing.

“
I could change your mind. Just think of how impressed everyone would be if you showed up with a young, gorgeous wife. You
’
d look like the stud I
’
m sure you are.
”

Actually, he
’
d look like the idiot he was. Joe sighed.
“
I think we
’
ve misunderstood each other
’
s motives. I want a woman to spend the rest of my life with. And I plan to spend it here, in Oak Grove.
 
I want more kids. A dog, even. The American dream.
”

Julie shuddered.
“
You mean
‘
nightmare.
’
Let me clue you in, Joe. You won
’
t find a woman who wants to share that dream within fifty miles of here. We all want out.
”
She tipped back the last of her champagne.
“
Preferably yesterday.
”

* * *

Joe
kept
trying
. He
’
d never been a quitter. But after several weeks, and many more dates, he had to admit Julie was right. Every single woman in Oak Grove only wanted out.

Dating became a chore, like a job he despised. Since Joe hadn
’
t had a job he hated this much since he was fourteen and spent the summer baling hay—a dirty, sweaty, backbreaking, soul-smashing job—he didn
’
t know how to handle the helpless despair that came over him when he discovered his dream was everyone else
’
s nightmare. The unaccustomed feeling of failure kept him awake nights, which only made his aching loneliness worse.

He was busy enough. He had T-ball games and practice, and Big League games and practice. The little kids had no idea who he was—or, rather, had been. They just liked him, and Joe liked them. The big kids had taken a few days to warm up. They
’
d gotten his autograph, tiptoed around, asked him about star teammates, then got back to business. Even the kids on Toni
’
s team now seemed to see him as just another dad. Joe was glad.

To be honest, he probably scheduled more prac
tices than necessary just to have something to do.

But it was summer; his kids were bored, too, and they didn
’
t seem to mind.

What Joe minded was the continuing interest in his team, Evie
’
s team and the silly bet they
’
d made. Attendance at T-ball increased, his Big League games were standing-room only and Evie
’
s weren
’
t much better. Every week or so a camera crew showed up and filmed a game, or the kid reporter who had written the first story on the school board meeting wrote another article, keeping the bet the talk of the town. Joe had to figure Mrs. Larson spent her spare time pili
ng kindling on the already smol
dering fire between Evie and him.

He even got a letter from the president of OGCC, thanking him for being such a team player, which made Joe feel like a fraud. He had no one to blame but himself, his overblown sense of competition—and his secret desire to rescue damsels in distress, even when they spit in his eye. The fact that he had no one to talk to about how he felt made Joe lonelier than ever.

Toni spent as much time with her team as Joe spent with his. Then there was Adam, hogging all her attention—not to mention the days and evenings she spent in the Vaughn household. Heck, she was over there right now. Joe was supposed to meet her at the game. Even when Joe managed to catch Toni home for an hour or two, all he heard was
“
Coach this
”
and
“
Coach that
”
or
“
Mrs. Vaughn says...
”
blah, blah, blah.

It took Joe awhile
before he admitted he was jeal
ous of Evie
’
s relationship with his little girl—a self
ish reaction. Obviously, Toni needed a woman in her life right now. But along with dreams of a family and a white-picket fence, Joe had harbored dreams of a special friendship with his daughter.