“It’s time for another dose,” interrupted the overly efficient nurse. Her hands deftly took care of tasks Tilly had no idea needed to be done. A wave of uselessness washed over her.
“You need to leave now.” The nurse smiled, but her words brokered no arguments as she put herself between Tilly and the bed and took a step forward, forcing Tilly back. “He needs rest—not drama.”
Tilly’s jaw dropped open. Of all the girlfriends and wives of baseball players she knew, she was the least dramatic among them. If Brayden was held up at practice, she rolled with it. If the team was out of town when her family was going through a crisis, she told him to play his best and not worry because she had things covered. She never snooped through his phone, suspecting him of cheating on her. Nor did she pitch fits when women threw themselves at him. She was a freaking rock!
Which was why she wasn’t about to let this nurse bait her into an argument. She pushed past her, planting a kiss on Brayden’s cheek and then lingering on his lips. “I will see you tomorrow.”
His lids were heavy from the medication, and he mumbled an answer that sounded like “I love you.”
“Love you too.” She kissed him once more before standing straight and walking out of the room with more poise than a stinking runway model. Her ankle protested with every step, but she wasn’t about to limp away.
Nurse Ornery shut the door behind her with a wicked smile. A smile that said she may have won the moment, but the war was far from over. Whatever. Brayden would be out of here soon, and this woman would be a blip of a memory.
Chapter Five
Brayden
“Thanks again for giving me a ride. You’re going above and beyond the call here.” Brayden sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Natalie’s Chevy something-or-other. His buddies were packing for a series, and the bus would leave the stadium in two hours. He couldn’t call one of them away when they had to focus. New York had won two of the three games they’d played here in St. George. They needed to win when they were away, which was always harder than winning in front of the home crowd. Worrying about bringing Brayden home from the hospital wouldn’t do them any favors.
He hadn’t called Tilly either. He’d seen her bruises, the way she’d limped to his bedside for a visit, and how she’d had to drag herself home. Guilt blanketed him. She was in pain and she was sacrificing for him. He hadn’t told her he was being released today because he didn’t want to make her come get him.
And his pride to get home on his own. There was no fooling himself. He was going to need a lot of care, but he felt bad automatically putting that responsibility on Tilly, like it was asking too much of her to be with him when he was almost helpless. Helpless enough to become emotional about it.
Not that he’d cried. No. He wouldn’t cry about losing baseball or the ability to, you know—turn his head. The doc assured him he’d regain some mobility. He’d just have to work for it. Well, he was used to that. He’d worked hard to pitch in the majors. He knew what work was all about.
The car was white with a gray interior, clean, and it smelled like vanilla, according to the tree hanging from the rearview mirror. He sniffed to see if it was working and didn’t notice any vanilla in the air. He could smell Natalie, though. Her perfume was dull and tangy, like a piece of fruit that had been left in the sun too long.
“Of course. I couldn’t let my favorite patient take an Uber.” She smiled over at him. Her phone’s robotic voice told her to turn left, and she did. Brayden tried to relax in the seat, but he was worried about the speed bumps and dip in the road—worried that he’d jostle his neck. The fear of reinjury was at the forefront of his mind. He really, really didn’t want to go backwards. Vulnerability was not a comfortable companion, and that was all he’d had to hang out with lately.
Man, he missed Tilly. They should be lounging on the couch, suffering together, although he wasn’t sure how that was going to happen, considering the location of their injuries. She’d been back to the doctor yesterday because she continued to have headaches—the kind that landed her in bed with a blanket over her face to block out the light.
They pulled into the subdivision, and a moment later, three shiny vehicles pulled in behind them, following the turns and twists around the golf course that sat in the center of the development. Unable to turn around, he could only see them in the side mirror. He sent up a quick prayer that they weren’t media people looking for an image of him hobbling into his house with a neck brace. He’d had a hard time coming up with blessings to count, outside of Tilly, but at this moment, he was thankful his legs weren’t injured. Thankful that he could walk himself into the house and wasn’t in a wheelchair.
He was also thankful that the monitors weren’t attached to his heart, because it thundered. Sweat broke out on his forehead, soaking into the Redrocks ball hat Natalie had bought him from the hospital gift shop to celebrate his release. It didn’t fit like his team-issued gear, and there was a tag rubbing the top of his head. It was a nice gesture, though. After the initial flirty phase wore off, she’d been helpful and understanding throughout his stay and he’d come to trust her more than the other nurses, who were always in such a hurry.
She pulled into his driveway, and the cars lined up along the curb like some security detail.
Brayden managed to push the door open and swing his legs out. His gaze swung to Tilly’s house across the street and one house down. She hadn’t lived there more than a month, but the fact that she’d bought the house to be near him was pretty dang awesome.
The curtains were drawn. He prayed she didn’t have a headache, and if she did, that she was able to sleep. Taking care of her would be difficult but he couldn’t tamp down on the protectiveness that rose up inside of him when it came to her. She was the toughest woman he knew, probably didn’t need his protection at all, and yet he felt like a giant when she was around. Not only because he dwarfed her in size, but because she brought out the best in him, made him feel like he was more than when he was alone.
Car doors slammed and he pushed himself out of the low vehicle. Natalie rounded the front fender, scolding him. “You should have waited for me to help you.”
He would have shaken his head at her, if he could have. “I have to start doing things on my own. You’re not always going to be here.”
She opened her mouth, a protest already written in her eyes, but her words were caught off by Elise, who called out to him as she walked up the driveway. “That’s what I like to hear.” He moved his shoulders so he could see her. A happy grin split Elise’s freckled face. “It’s good to see you on your feet, big guy.” She reached up and gave him a quick hug.
Brayden relaxed just a little knowing Elise was on his side. She was a friend and his buddy’s girl. She was also one of the best physical therapists he’d known in the majors. Her hug was followed closely by a pat on the back from Doc Burningham. Doc’s once auburn hair was now a dusty brown, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. The team physician looked him over as one would a car they wanted to buy—a used car with a few dents.
Brayden’s smile grew. “I didn’t know you guys made house calls. And to think I’ve been driving over to the stadium like a schmuck all this time.”
Doc cuffed him lightly on the arm. He was holding back, but Brayden didn’t mind. Vulnerability clung to him like a parasite.
“They do when she calls them,” said Coach Wolfe as he pointed to his wife, Harper, who walked beside him.
Brayden softened to see the team owner on his doorstep. Mrs. Wolfe was a busy woman, and for her and Coach to take time to visit him the moment he got home was a huge compliment—a testament to the value they placed on Brayden as a Redrock. Especially since they were due to fly out soon. Of course, Harper owned the jet, so it wouldn’t leave until she said it would.
“We should …” Brayden cleared his throat. The injuries brought emotions closer to the surface. Like he’d snapped his man card when he landed or something. “We should head inside where it’s cooler.”
