“Listen, baby girl. That nurse just keeps showing up—uninvited.”
“I noticed.” She reached for another Dr. Pepper. The carbonated burn would be just the thing to dislodge the lump in her throat.
“It doesn’t mean Brayden’s interested.”
She challenged him with a look. “It means he hasn’t asked her to stay away, either.”
“You could tell her to leave,” Maverik offered.
She shook her head. “I’m not getting into it with Nurse Natalie.” Not like Brayden had gotten into her business by interrupting her date. She wasn’t mad about that. It was about darn time he stepped up. But interrupting her and sending a clingy nurse in a tight shirt home were two different ways of fighting for Tilly, and she needed him to do both.
Maverik slumped in his chair. “She’s so annoying.”
Tilly laughed. She lifted her can, and Maverik tapped his to it. “You’re welcome to hang out here until she leaves.” The soda churned in her belly. Yuck! If Maverik stayed here, then Natalie and Brayden would be alone in the house together.
“Nah. I’d better go rescue him.”
“Good luck.” Tilly saw him to the door and hugged him goodbye. She almost closed the door, but then remembered Brayden in the lobby at the hotel. He’d been waiting for her and Rowdy to get there. If he could do that, she certainly didn’t have to hide behind her curtains to see what happened once Maverik got back. She sat on her front porch and pulled her knees up to her chest.
Right from the start, she’d believed Brayden was the man she wanted—no, needed—in her life. He’d been the perfect complement to her, physically and emotionally. She loved alpha males with big muscles and swagger. There was just something about a man who was comfortable in his skin and who could laugh at himself that drew her in. She needed an alpha because she was tough. She’d dated guys she knew she could run right over. If she had any desire to dominate a man, she could do it easily—but that wasn’t her style. A guy should be her equal, her partner.
She’d kissed that guy in an elevator in Atlanta. He’d run his fingers through her hair, sending scrumptious shivers driving over her skin. He’d shown up in that kiss. Just as skilled as ever at taking her to the point of no return and then easing off, he’d brought his A game that night.
But a woman couldn’t live by kisses alone. She needed more from him. She needed his alpha. The question was, could he be that man?
A few seconds later, Natalie came out of the house, scowling. She looked up the street. Tilly smirked and waved. Maverik was awesome.
Natalie made a rude gesture and climbed into her car.
Tilly laughed it off. At least Brayden’s family was perfect. She never wanted his dad to change. She’d take him just the way he was. With a hop in her step, she went inside to finish unpacking groceries.
Chapter Thirty
Brayden
Gunner was back up in the rotation against Colorado. Brayden paced the locker room before the game. He just couldn’t sit still. He’d given Gunner the go-ahead that afternoon to try his cutter in the game. He still refused to change his grip in the ball, but the pitch didn’t completely suck the way it was now. The punk may have some natural talent after all.
Blake pitched the first six innings of the game. They were ahead by four and the crowd was riding high. From Brayden’s spot in the stands, where he could watch the game and Tilly, he had a great view of the mound.
Gunner jogged in from the bullpen, all swagger and seriousness. Brayden liked to see that. No bluster, just knowledge that he had a job to do. Baseball was a game, but the fun that came from taking the mound in a game was different from wakeboarding or hiking or fishing. It fed the need to succeed that was deep inside every pitcher, the need to place yourself up against an opponent and come out the victor. Some at bats were harder than others. But when the batter walked to the dugout, there was a sense of satisfaction Brayden had only ever felt off the mound when he was with Tilly.
Tilly looked amazing tonight. She wore a pair of baggy cargo pants and a Redrocks official polo shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, swinging with the sway of her hips as she made her way up and down the stairs. Man, she was beautiful. He was having a hard time concentrating on the game with her around. Tilly was a people person, making each of the ticket holders simultaneously feel like they were right at home and the elite of the elite. He knew that feeling from her all too well.
Gunner went through the windup and released the pitch. A fastball. It sailed into Barns’s glove. The crowd cheered. Brayden folded his arms. This batter, Tetrick, always took the first pitch. Always. Gunner could have lobbed it over the plate like a pumpkin and Tetrick would have let it fly by. He didn’t even bother to watch it. He just took it and stepped out of the box, adjusting his gloves.
Barns signaled the next pitch. Gunner shook it off.
Brayden ground his teeth. “Come on, punk. Take the sign.”
Barns was forty years old and on his last season. He was the best catcher Brayden had ever thrown to. He spent hours studying each batter. He knew what they could hit. He knew what they swung at and missed. He knew what they had for breakfast. Okay, maybe not the last one, but batters hated coming up against him. He was a legend. Brayden still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up on the Redrocks when he could be making three times as much on a team back east or even in LA, but he’d been too grateful to have the guy on his side to ask.
Gunner shook off the next one too, and Brayden dug his hands into his hair to keep from screaming across the stadium.
Gunner finally saw a sign he liked, wound up, and Tetrick popped it out of the park, where it disappeared into the sunset. He took off around the bases, throwing his gloves to the first base coach and tipping his hat as he ran over home plate.
Gunner’s head dropped.
Brayden swore. He’d give anything to be able to walk onto that field and tell the punk what he needed to do to fix this. They were still up by three, but if Gunner didn’t keep it together, then it was going to fall apart fast.
