Blake dodged the metal door with ease. A smile lit his face. “Bro!” He gave Brayden a man-hug. “It’s so good to see your ugly face.”
Brayden smiled woodenly. Blake wouldn’t think so once he saw the mess Brayden had made in the locker room. Come to think of it, a lot of people were going to be upset about that. The person who should be the most upset? Tilly. He’d been a complete jagweed. His blood was still pumping faster than he could think. He needed to get out of there. He needed to get away from Tilly before he made her cry again. “Can you give me a ride home?”
Blake glanced around. “I guess. I’m basically done. I was just going to lift while Elise worked on you and Tilly.” He gave him a look that said,You aren’t dogging my girl, are you?
“I need to get home.” Brayden rubbed his eyes. “It’s been a long day.”
“All right.” Blake pointed to the locker room doors. “Let me grab my keys.”
They made their way out to the players’ lot and slid into Blake’s convertible. The man took exceptional care of his vehicle. Much better than Brayden and Tilly. Tilly’s always had red sand on the floor, and his back seat was full of gear and workout clothes that probably needed to be washed. He groaned and leaned back in the leather. Blake caught on that he didn’t want to talk and drove in silence.
Brayden couldn’t even think about doing laundry right now, and he refused to ask Tilly to do one thing for him after the way he’d yelled at her. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that couples didn’t fight, but the amount of anger inside of him that he couldn’t control was scary. Big scary. He should be shielding Tilly from that kind of thing, not spewing it in front of her.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found his dad’s number. They’d been in touch, Dad calling the hospital every day. He’d offered to fly up right away, but Brayden didn’t want his Superman to see him lying in the hospital. Dad had worked just as hard as Brayden to make his MLB dreams come true. He’d let his dad down by cutting that dream short.
“Brayden?” His dad was a big man, strong, with black hair, a tall forehead, and a heart bigger than Arizona, where he’d retired last year.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s me.” The anger that fueled Brayden’s rage evaporated like ice on the St. George blacktop. Dad was a rock. His rock. Mom had split after high school, said she’d done her part to raise Brayden and was burned out—wanted some peace and quiet. The last he’d heard, she was in Kauai serving drinks at night and sleeping the mornings away on the beach. He hoped she’d found what she was looking for. He also wished he could have called her at a time like this—but how do you call on someone who’d basically said you were a heavy burden to carry for 18 years?
His dad? Dad was the opposite. He loved everything about being a dad. He was the tuck-you-in-at-night kind. Even if you were 18 and headed to college the next day. Brayden needed some of that right now.
“How’s it going?”
“Not good. Do you think you could come out here for a little while?” His voice cracked. Remorse flooded his heart for how he’d behaved. Dad would have railed him up one side and down the other for yelling at a woman like that—and for yelling at Tilly in particular. He loved her as an almost daughter-in-law almost as much as Brayden loved her as an almost fiancée.
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks.” Brayden said goodbye and hung up. He turned his upper body so he was facing out the window and Blake wouldn’t see the moisture he had to blink away. There was no acceptable reason to cry in front of your buddies. Well, if you won the World Series, then you could shed a few tears and the guys would pound you on the back.
There’d be no World Series for him, so he sucked it up. Once Dad got here, things would get better. They had to.
Chapter Eight
Tilly
Tilly cried through her massage with Elise. Elise assured her that it was normal. Muscles held memories, and her muscles had a bad memory that needed to be wiped away. She was referring to the accident, but Tilly was thinking about Brayden’s outburst. About the way he’d looked at her like she was to blame. He’d never yelled at her before. Sure, they’d disagreed about things in the past and sworn never to talk politics again. But even then, she’d looked into his eyes and found love.
If he still loved her, it was buried under a mountain of rage.
She’d driven home and left him alone as he’d requested, vowing not to call him until he apologized. But this morning, that darn nurse’s car was in his driveway. The team had a late game, and she didn’t have a school tour this morning. Therefore, she had the whole day to sit there and stew about what was going on across the street.
Brayden wasn’t the type of man to cheat. She’d bet her house the woman had just shown up out of the blue. But if that was the case, why was she still there? Well, she wasn’t about to let another woman get comfortable in Brayden’s house. She just wasn’t sure what to do about it with things the way they were between her and Brayden.
Finally, she decided to just walk across the street and talk to him. But not before she put on Brayden’s favorite sundress, the one he said made her legs irresistible. She did a quick check of her makeup and hair and crossed the street with a confidence in her gait that she didn’t feel.
She hesitated at the door, wondering if she should knock, and then decided against it. If he was going to have a strange woman over in the middle of the day, then he’d better plan on Tilly stopping by. She threw the door open and marched in, a smile spread across her face.
Brayden wasn’t in the front room, and her heart sank. He had an open-floor plan, which meant she could see the common living space from her spot in the front entry. Which also meant that Brayden was in a back bedroom withher. She put her hand on the doorknob. Did she really want to know if something was going on between them? She took a shaky breath and pressed her hand to her stomach, which threatened to empty out right there.
“Baby girl.” Maverik Birks, Brayden’s father, came down the hall, carrying a load of wet towels. Right behind him was the nurse who would not go away. Her smile dimmed when she saw Tilly. Good.
Maverik handed the towels off to the nurse like she was the hired help and wrapped Tilly in his big arms. Tilly leaned into him. “Mav. I’m glad you’re here.” Her eyes prickled at the fatherly comfort of his embrace. She suddenly missed her parents, missed coming home to a hug.
“Me too, baby girl.”
She smiled for real. He’d called her “baby girl” the first day they’d met and kept right on doing it. She loved it. Brayden didn’t have sisters, and Maverik treated her like gold.
“This is Natalie,” Maverik stated by way of introduction. “She picked up a few medical things to help Brayden.” He leaned closer, his eyes darting down the hallway toward the bedroom. “The shower chair was our saving grace today.” He winked.
