Single (Stockton Beavers #1) (11 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Luke

I wish I were going out with Roberta tonight instead of Heidi.

I take one last glance at myself in the mirror. I guess I look all right. I need to come across as strong and in control, so I took a page right out of Roberta's playbook. Black jeans. Black tee. Black boots. I even tied my hair back, which is something I never do. I just have to get through this one date with her—that's all. That's what she paid for.

It's just that all Heidi ever seems to do is talk about herself. Should she reschedule a hair appointment to squeeze in an extra Pilates class? Should she accept her friend's destination wedding invite or invest in getting her teeth whitened? And on and on and on…her only problem being what to spend money on next.

In the beginning, I had no choice but to listen to her since I couldn't really speak after my injury. Then after she worked with me for a while, and I started getting my voice back, she began throwing hints, wanting me to ask her out. At first, I was flattered. The hot girl from high school was actually interested in me. But still, it's not like we had anything in common. I couldn't relate to her carefree lifestyle, and she had no clue what I was dealing with at home. If she did, I'm sure I'd be the last guy she'd ever want to get involved with. Let's just say, she's the type of girl whose day is ruined if she breaks a nail.

Then when the Beavers started to lose interest in me, so did she. At first, there was a lot less chitchat between us during my appointments, and then she started passing me off to the other therapist in her office, claiming she was swamped with new clients. I hadn't seen her in weeks until she showed up at the auction.

And what makes things even worse is that Roberta's really mad at me over the whole thing. I just got back from a weeklong road trip, and I'd promised to give her the night off. However, my good intentions were thwarted when Landry called me at the last minute and asked if I'd be willing to take Heidi out tonight. Apparently, she's been pestering the staff at Beaver Field to no end, wanting to know when her date with me was taking place. So what could I say…
no
? He's my boss.

But I have the feeling I'm in for a rough night when the doorbell rings and Mom immediately begins to shriek downstairs.
Thank you, Heidi, for blatantly ignoring the "Please knock" sign I have taped to the door.

I fly down the steps, only to find Roberta at the bottom, cradling Mom and repeating over and over, "It's all right. It's all right. It's all right," as she punches the code into the brand-new security system I had installed. When the alarm stops, so does Mom, and I couldn't be more grateful.

"Did she try to get out?" I ask, coming up behind them.

"Yeah," Roberta mutters, her nerves fried. "You know how she always tries to bolt whenever she hears the doorbell."

"Tell me about it," I mutter. "Thanks for stopping her."

She shrugs. "That's what you pay me for, isn't it?"

Another cool rebuff—probably because she's aware of who's standing on the other side of the door.

She slings her arm around Mom's shoulders, ready to take her back to the kitchen. "C'mon, Mrs. S. Let's finish our dinner." But I take heart when she flicks the end of my hair as she guides her past me. "Nice ponytail."

The back of my neck tingles to life at her touch. "I'm glad you like it."

Her blue eyes sparkle up at me, until an impatient knocking interrupts the moment.

"I have to—" I fumble.

She nods with a sigh. "Yeah, I know."

I'm crushed by the amount of hurt in her eyes. Life shouldn't be playing out like this, but it is.

I reach for the doorknob, my stomach already in a full-on nosedive. And it doesn't get any better when I open the door and the first words out of Heidi's mouth are, "Luke, I just can't get used to you with that fuzz on your face. Ugh…when are you gonna shave that thing off?" as she brushes past me and steps inside.

Never
, I think, when I picture Roberta running her fingers through my goatee that night in the alcove and how much she seemed to like it.

But daydreaming about Roberta with Heidi standing there, staring at me, throws me a little. "Ex-ex-excuse me?" I stutter, and I haven't stuttered in a long time.

"Breathe. Take your time. Sound it out. Really open those lips," she issues her familiar string of commands, the ones I haven't heard since the last time I was in her office. "I don't know, Luke." She taps a finger to her lips. "I think I should pencil you in for an emergency session. How about tomorrow morning? Before you head over to the stadium? It'll be fun, just like old times…
but not
." She smiles at me while grabbing on to my shirt.

Okay, I have to put a stop to this before things get ugly.

I clasp her wrists and gently pry her hands away from me. "I'm fine. Really."

"Oh, I don't mind," she says breezily. "Besides, after tonight, I'm sure we'll be seeing a whole lot more of each other."

"Umm…y-y-yeah, about that," I stumble, hating how, in her presence, my speech keeps faltering right when I need it the most. "I'm superbusy, since I'm back playing and all. I don't think I'll really have time for any more dates after this."

She returns her hand to my chest and gives me a playful shove. "Well, I can come to you, anywhere, anytime."

"Heidi, I—"

"I brought wine and everything." She slides the bottle out of her bag. "Let's just see where the night takes us, shall we?"

I blush red-hot because it seems Heidi has no intentions of going out tonight. She came over here thinking she could seduce me into letting her spend the night.

Backing away, my eyes dart to the clock. "Yeah, umm…we should get going."

She suggestively bites down on her finger while continuing to smile at me. "I don't care if we eat or not."

Something clatters to the floor behind us.

Heidi gasps, "What was that?"

"Uh, I'm having my kitchen remodeled." I think fast. "It's a mess back there, stuff falling all over the place. I haven't had a decent meal all day. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Why don't we go?"

"Not until you tell me if your refrigerator's still working," she simpers.

I blink, perplexed. "What for?"

"For the wine to chill." She gives me a saucy pout. "For later…"

Dream on, Heidi, because there isn't going to be a later. I'm only committed to dinner. That's it.

I take the bottle and force myself to smile back at her. "Why don't I meet you out by the car?"

She sashays up to me, rubbing her hand up and down my arm. "Now, Luke, don't be silly. I can wait."

"But I have to make sure the alarm's working." I enter the code that Roberta set, 9999, and hold the door open for her. "It's been acting up all day, and I don't want it going off the whole time we're gone."

"Ah, the joys of living alone, right? No one to depend on but yourself. I know the feeling. But I don't think either one of us will have to worry about that for too much longer." She winks at me before stepping onto the porch, her pink skirt flouncing behind her in the breeze.

I shut the door and bash my head against it.
That was close
.

Gathering myself, I head toward the kitchen, and Roberta snatches the bottle of wine away from me the minute I enter the room. "What the heck are you doing?" she asks, smacking my shoulder.

"I have no idea," I reply. "But that doesn't explain why you're standing here, listening to our conversation."

"Your mom dropped her fork, and I was on the lookout. I didn't want her coming back here, nosing around."

Mom is at the table, eating the chicken and rice dish Roberta prepared, the one I can't get enough of. I ruffle the top of Mom's head as I stroll around to the other side and steal Roberta's fork to scoop a mouthful off her plate. "Hmmm, this is so good. Save me some, would ya?"

Roberta looks up from putting the wine in the fridge. "Hey, that's mine."

"And just what were you gonna tell Heidi if she wandered back here?" I inquire, sliding another delicious bite into my mouth.

She takes an empty plate out of the cupboard and begins dishing out a portion to set aside for me. "I'm the hired help, so I guess I'm whomever you need me to be. Your interior decorator, your tailor, your bodyguard—"

I start to chuckle. "Bodyguard?"

"The only way I was letting her barge in here and frighten your mom was over my dead body," she declares, forcefully tearing a piece of plastic wrap out of the dispenser.

I give her a slight shake of my head. "Trust me. I wasn't even going to invite her in, but she got here fifteen minutes early, and I was unable to cut her off at the pass."

"Just like you tried to do with me," she scoffs, covering the plate.

I bow my head. "Until you became the keeper of all my secrets."

We stare at each other for a beat too long, and she's the first to look away.

"Well, don't let me keep you from your date." She gives me a sarcastic little curtsy, extending her hand with a flourish. "It's time for the hired help to get back to work."

I close my eyes and breathe. "Roberta, I don't want to go out with her, but I don't have a choice."

"Like it's such a hardship for you to have to spend a night with a beautiful woman." She rolls her eyes. "Luke, you don't have to explain yourself to me. It's not like we're in a relationship or anything. I just work for you, remember?"

Yeah
, I think,
except that I wanna kiss you so bad—I can't breathe, I can't sleep, I can't think about anyone else except for you
.

I get up from the table and let out a dissatisfied breath. "I guess we all have our duties. You have yours, and I have mine."

She looks at me, tucking her chin into her shoulder. "But why does it have to be so hard?"

Backing into the hallway, I stop, intrigued. "What does?"

She sways back and forth, sticking her hands in her pockets. "I don't know. Life, love…you name it."

And I can't look at her because what she may be implying is almost too much to hope for. I turn and guide my hand down the cheery new wallpaper, gathering the courage to say what my heart is urging me to say.

I tap my knuckles against the wall and whisper, "Because anything worth having usually is."

When she inhales sharply behind me, I step into the hall and just keep going, too afraid to stop and find out what it could all mean.

Chapter Eighteen

Luke

"A double date… Really?" Heidi wrinkles her nose at me.

"Why? Aren't you having a good time?" I ask brightly, swirling some extra syrup onto my fork from the side of my brownie à la mode. "You're at a table with not one, but two, Stockton Beavers."

Right as we got into the car, Danny texted me that he'd decided to cross his date off his to-do list too and asked if I wanted to meet up with him at Russo's. I couldn't type yes fast enough. But as it turns out, the woman who won him—Chrissy—is a happily married mother of three, a huge baseball fan, and a Beaver Field season ticket holder to boot. In fact, her husband was the one who placed the winning bid on Danny for her as a surprise anniversary present. So Danny didn't need me to be a buffer for him after all, but boy, I sure needed him. I think his initial interest in Heidi has long since worn off, her good looks not enough to sweeten her bitter tongue.

Heidi sits back, annoyed. "Yeah, but Russo's? I've been coming here since I was two." She slides the basket of breadsticks away from her across the red and white checked tablecloth.

The waitress returns, setting a cannoli before Chrissy, who smiles up at her. "Thank you," she says before eagerly passing the breadbasket to her. "Do you think I could take these home, too? My kids absolutely love 'em."

"Oh, they're the best," Danny readily agrees. "I'm surprised there are any left. I thought I ate them all."

We all start laughing, while Heidi just sits there, twirling the straw in her glass. She starts mumbling under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear her, "At least, that's one food item that didn't end up in his beard."

I nudge her, making one last valiant attempt to get her to lighten up. "Are you sure you don't want anything for dessert? I can tell the waitress while she's here."

"I already told you—
no
," she snaps at me. "I can't eat that stuff. I'll get fat."

Chrissy pauses with the cannoli halfway to her mouth.

And even though it's only one of many snide comments Heidi's made throughout the evening, this is one I can't ignore—because it has nothing to do with me or Stockton or baseball, and everything to do with a nice, sweet lady who doesn't deserve to be treated like that.

I remove my napkin from my lap and turn to face her. "Take it back."

Bored, she plays with her phone like she can't be bothered with me.

Sensing the tension brewing between us, Chrissy puts her cannoli down and hurriedly licks the filling from her fingers. "It's okay. She's right. These babies go straight to the hips. I guess you can tell I eat way too many sweets."

She lets out a nervous giggle, and Danny shoots me a look that speaks volumes.

"Well, if your daughters are anywhere near as beautiful as you are, then you must have the best-looking family in all of Stockton." Danny lays on the charm, causing Heidi to exhale loudly beside me.

Danny frowns at her, ready to say something when Chrissy intervenes. "Ah, thanks, Danny. Our girls
are
beautiful, but I had nothing to do with it," she chuckles. "You see, they're all adopted."

"Really?" Danny responds.

She smiles at him. "Yeah, I guess I tend to bring my work home with me. I'm a social worker at the foster care agency downtown."

The waitress returns with Danny's credit card along with Chrissy's wrapped-up breadsticks and several more takeout containers for the rest of the table.

"The food was great. The service was great." Danny signs his name across the receipt and smiles at the waitress before smiling at Chrissy. "But my date was
phenomenal
." He brags, getting Chrissy to laugh. "I really hate to call it a night, but…"

"Oh, I know it's getting late. Time to vamoose." Chrissy nods, quickly placing her uneaten cannoli into one of the extra containers. "It's a school night, and I still have to get the kids to bed." She raises a hand to Danny's ear, chuckling, "Just between you and me, they
never
listen to my husband."

Heidi snickers but doesn't say anything.

Chrissy stands up and Danny, gentleman that he is, helps her on with her jacket. "You hold on to that signature of his, miss. It's gonna be worth something someday." Chrissy winks at the waitress as she looks up from clearing the table. "I have a feeling this boy's gonna be a star." She fluffs out her collar and grins at me when she catches my eye. "The two of them are. You mark my words. I know talent when I see it. Remember their names—Dan O'Malley and Luke Singleton."

The waitress glances over at me, propping her tray against her hip. "Not
the
Luke Singleton? The guy I talk to practically every night on the phone?"

Heidi sits up, leaning her elbows on the table. "You two know each other?"

"Yeah, well…sorta," she says, getting flustered. "I think I know the delivery order for 44 Cedar Crest Lane by heart. How's your mom doing, by the way? I always make sure to remind Billy not to ring the doorbell."

Heidi shifts next to me. "Your mom…? You still live with your mom?"

I give the waitress a stiff nod. "She's good. Thanks."

Danny comes to the rescue, more than willing to snag the waitress's undivided attention. "Do you think you could give me a stack of your takeout menus? I'd love to leave them in the clubhouse for the rest of the guys. A lot of them are new to the area, and they have no idea where to go to get a good meal around here."

"My pleasure." She gestures toward the counter. "Right this way."

Danny offers Chrissy his arm then throws a worried backward glance in my direction. I shrug, not knowing what else to do as he leaves me alone with Heidi.

"What, do you keep your mom locked in the basement or something?" Heidi clicks her nails impatiently on the table. "I haven't seen her in ages. I thought after your dad died, she moved to Florida or something. Isn't that where all the old people go?"

I drain the water that's left in my glass all the way down to the ice. "Nah, she still lives at home."

"Well, why the paranoia about the doorbell, then? What is she, part attack dog?" Heidi laughs.

"So you
did
see the sign…" I grumble.

"Yeeeah," she whines, like she's fourteen. "But I didn't think it applied to
me
."

I grimace and push what remains of my brownie aside.

"There was like this squealing noise coming from inside your house, and I got scared. But then there were voices…
female voices
…more than one, actually."

Great
. She heard more than I thought she did. The alarm didn't drown everything out.

Angling her body closer to mine, she rests her chin in her hand and stares at me intently. "It seems like you're trying to hide something, Luke. But what?"

"I'm not trying to hide anything."

She studies me with a coy gleam in her eye. "Just like you didn't want the Beavers to know you were seeing a speech therapist, right?"

"That was different. That was—"

"Luke, you paid for my services out of your own pocket. You didn't charge them to your health insurance or to the Beavers or to anyone else, for that matter. I checked."

"That information's supposed to be confidential, Heidi."

And that's when Russo's piped-in music switches abruptly from Dean Martin's jubilant "That's Amore" to the soft opening of
The Godfather
theme, and my voice rings out through the whole restaurant as everyone turns to stare at me.

Heidi waits until we're not the center of attention anymore before whispering, "That's why they weren't going to take you back, wasn't it? They didn't think you'd make a full recovery."

I pull back to look at her. "Well, I did. Thanks to you."

She slides her hand onto my knee. "Oh, you're gonna thank me all right. Or else those nice folks I've been chatting with over at Beaver Field are gonna find out that something fishy's going on at your house. Maybe they'll even put me through to Mike Landry this time."

"You wouldn't—"

"Try me." She looks at me through narrowed eyes, her curtain of blond hair spilling over her shoulder. "If you make it to the majors, I think it'd be a pretty nice gig to be your girlfriend. The best and brightest always leave Stockton, and I'm not about to be left behind."

She picks up my fork and breaks off a bite-sized piece of brownie before dipping it in the whipped cream.

"Open up, Luke," she entreats, holding it in front of my mouth.

The people at the other tables continue to throw us curious glances, and I have no choice but to let her feed me as she slides the fork between my lips and smiles once I begin to chew.

"Hmmm, now doesn't that sound good?" She pats the corners of my mouth with her napkin, fussing all over me. "Now I can't wait to discover all the things you're going to do
for me
. Count this as the first of many, many dates to come."