Covering Home (9 page)

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. His bag slipped off his shoulder and landed at his feet. “Call you?”

“Yes, call me. Text, Tweet, FaceTime, whatever. We need to catch up.”

“Right.” He nodded. “I guess I’ve been a little busy.”
Putting my life back together.

“I know, right? I’ve been in Vancouver since the Emmys—did you see me? I got to present with Jesse Tyler Ferguson. Love him. And I rocked that Vera Wang gown. It was—”

“Sorry, I don’t watch the award shows anymore.”

Lane gave him a blank stare. “Oh, right. Of course. Too many memories and all that. You know, I have the most amazing therapist. He costs an absolute fortune but all the stars see him. Even if—”

“No, thanks. I’m good.” He glanced around, hoping someone would ask for an autograph, or even try and take a selfie. But the crowd streamed past, casting the occasional curious stare at the two Americans chatting in the middle of Tokyo.

Lane’s phone chimed. She dropped her hand from Caleb’s arm and whipped out her smartphone. She scanned the screen and then smiled up at Caleb. “We’re filming a couple of scenes in the middle of the night, so a few of us are getting together for drinks. You should join us.”

“Drinks?” This day already felt like three. “I just finished a game, so I need to—”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a party pooper.” She edged even closer now and fluttered her eyelashes. The sequins on her shirt tickled his arm. Every fiber in his being screamed at him to
run
.

“Lane, seriously.” He picked up his bag and stepped away.

“There you are.” Britt emerged from the crowd, a knowing smile on her face. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Thanks for waiting for me. I had to take that call.”

Caleb’s mouth went dry. Her touch, that gleam in her eye … he had no idea what she was talking about but he intended to cooperate. “No problem.”

“Oh, hi. I didn’t even see you there.” Britt glanced down at the actress, removed her hand from Caleb’s arm and extended it toward Lane. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Britt Bowen.”

Lane’s countenance morphed from flirty to disdainful in less than three seconds. “Lane McCallister.” She glanced at Britt’s hand and sniffed. “Sorry. I don’t do handshakes. Too many germs.”

“A germaphobe in Tokyo? That should be fun.” Britt clasped both of her hands together, unruffled by Lane’s snub. “Listen, Lane, we’d love to stay and chat, but Caleb promised me a cheeseburger and fries if the Senators won.”

What was she up to?
“Right. Let’s go, then.” He smiled at Lane. “Nice to see you again.”

“You, too.” Lane glared daggers at Britt.

As they walked away, Britt turned back around. “Lane, if you’re interested, the Sacramento Senators baseball team is hosting a private party on the top floor of the hotel. I’m sure you could work your magic and finagle a way in.” A small giggle erupted from Britt.

“Come on.” Caleb guided her in the opposite direction of the speechless starlet. “We better go before she blows a gasket right here on the plaza.”

Britt pressed a fist to her lips. “I’m sorry. That was mean, wasn’t it?”

“She deserved it. Thanks for intervening, by the way. Especially after last night. I didn’t expect you to—”

She held up her hand. “You’re welcome. You looked like you were starting to suffer.”

“Wait. You were watching?”

“Only for a minute. Or five. Not long. Ben and I saw you leaving so we followed you. But he got caught signing autographs, too, so—”

“He’s signing autographs?” Caleb surveyed the crowd still coming out of the Dome.

“What did you expect when you asked your twin brother to impersonate you?”

He shook his head. “It seemed like a good idea this afternoon. It helped me get out of the stadium, but I didn’t account for aggressive Hollywood celebrities.”

“Are you and Lane friends?” Britt’s tone was light and casual, but he looked at her and their eyes met. Was she seeking clarification?

“No. She and Amanda went way back. Boarding school roommates and all that.” He waved his hand to dismiss the thought. “It doesn’t matter now.”

The mention of Amanda’s name hung heavy in the air between them.

Britt stopped walking and faced him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

A strand of hair blew across her face and he balled his hand into a fist so he wouldn’t tuck it back into place. “Thank you. She was a wonderful woman—larger than life. I still don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what? Why it happened?”

Caleb nodded. “So many things went wrong that night. If I could rewind the proverbial tape, I’d give anything to do it all differently.”

They worked their way through the crowd, headed for the popular golden arches a few blocks away. Did she really want a cheeseburger and french fries? Did she even eat that stuff?

“I think everybody has a situation or a circumstance where they wish they could call a Mulligan.” Britt cast a furtive glance his way, the corners of her mouth twitched in a playful smile. “Do you pitchers comprehend golf analogies?”

“Very funny. Yes, I get it. A do-over. What’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your do-over. What’s the one thing in life you’d like to go back and edit?”

“Besides that ridiculous comment I made last night about you donating to a certain charitable cause?”

He chuckled. “I think we both said things we regret last night. Let’s strike that portion of the evening from the record, shall we?”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

They walked in comfortable silence. The night life of Tokyo bloomed around them. Taxis honked, jostling for position on the crowded streets. The trains moved predictably along the tracks and everything was bathed in the neon glow of signs from shops and restaurants.

“So let’s hear it.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Prior to yesterday, what’s an event in your life that you’d re-write if you could?”

“I would find a way to bring my mother back.”

Caleb’s stomach clenched.
Oh no.
“When did she die?”

“Twenty-six years ago, giving birth to me.”

His heart ached for her. “I’m sorry.”

She tried to smile, but faint lines still creased her brow. “Thanks. I don’t know what it’s like to lose the person you hoped to marry.” She pressed her fist to her heart. “But I know what it’s like to try and fill the gaping hole that lives right here.”

He racked his brain for something to say, apart from those clichC)s people fell back on in moments like these. He’d grown to detest those empty phrases. “I don’t think it can ever be filled. I’m hoping it shrinks over time.”

“Yeah, me too.” She cast a glance his way. “Wow, listen to us. A couple of Debbie Downers tonight, aren’t we?”

Caleb laughed. “We are kind of pathetic. C’mon. You can collect on that burger and fries I allegedly owe you.”

Britt followed him toward the restaurant. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Chapter Nine

Britt dipped her last french fry into the tiny pool of ketchup and popped it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the perfect combination of salty and sweet. “This is so good.”

“I’m surprised you eat fast food.” Caleb closed his empty Quarter Pounder carton and set it aside.

“I try to avoid it, but tonight I felt like eating familiar food. Makes it easier to be so far from home.”

He nodded. “I know what you mean. If I didn’t think it would destroy my performance on the field, I’d eat here every day.”

“Speaking of performance, I thought you looked great out there tonight.”

A storm cloud of emotions rolled across his face.

“Thanks.” He stared at the table, threading a straw wrapper between his fingers.

“Listen.” Britt paused, hoping he’d meet her gaze. “I’m here as your friend, complimenting your first trip back to the mound. Seriously, you played well.”

He looked up. The creases between his eyebrows softened. “Thank you. Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate between Britt the sportscaster and Britt the normal person.”

“What are you trying to say? Broadcasters aren’t normal?”

He looked away, shifting in his chair. “That’s not what I meant.”

Britt took a long sip of her diet soda and let him stew in his discomfort for a minute. Setting the cup down on the table, she smiled. “I’m teasing you. My friends accuse me of interrogating them all the time. Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Maybe it’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”

“Hmm, maybe. Ask away.” She shrugged, feigning indifference. Somehow she had to steer the conversation back around to what happened on the field tonight.

“Beach or mountains?”

She faltered. “Excuse me?”

He propped his elbows on the table. “You know, when you go on vacation—not that you broadcasters make time for that—but if you did, would you choose the beach or the mountains?”

“Wow, that’s a great first question, even if you did imply that I work too much. I grew up going to the beach, but my dad loves to ski and made sure we all learned … I’d have to say the beach.”

Caleb hung his head in mock disappointment. “That’s so unfortunate.”

Britt crumpled up a napkin and tossed it at him. “Why?”

He deflected the napkin with his broad hand. “Gritty sand everywhere, sticky sunscreen and, unless you’re into surfing, you just lie there. How boring is that?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Boring? What’s a vacation for if you can’t relax? The mountain trips are too much work: hiking gear and mountain bikes in the summer, snow skis and four layers of clothing in the winter. Nobody ever wants to sit still and read a book. It’s exhausting.”

“I’m sure you hauled all that gear yourself, right?”

It was her turn squirm in her chair. “Not really. We had people who helped us with that.”

“That’s what I thought. There’s no way Max Bowen’s family schleps their own skis to Tahoe.”

“It’s Vail or Park City, actually.” Britt couldn’t help but smile. Their playful banter stirring something deep within her. Caleb’s witty sense of humor was intriguing, such a contrast to the serious demeanor she’d encountered so far.

“Of course. Why mingle with the commoners in Tahoe, right?”

“Very funny. You mock us, but I’m sure you’ve enjoyed some great escapes, too. Where does a successful professional athlete, who happens to hate the beach, go to get away from it all?”

Caleb smiled and stared out the window for a minute. “If I want to get away from civilization, fly-fishing in Montana hits the spot. But my favorite family vacation was a canoe and backpacking trip we took to Minnesota when Ben and I were still in high school. The mosquitoes tried to take us down, but we had a great time.”

“Eight boys on a camping trip?” Britt grimaced. “Your mother’s a saint.”

“She loved every minute of it. I think she had more fun than my dad. He couldn’t quit worrying about the ranch.”

Britt watched his smile fade. “Do you miss it?”

Caleb’s eyes widened. “Minnesota?”

“No, the ranch.”

“Sometimes. It’s a ton of work. Even with most of my brothers helping, it weighs on my folks a lot. But it’s what they’ve always done. I can’t imagine my dad doing anything else.”

“Do you think you’ll go back?”

Caleb swiped at a ring of condensation on the table. “I’d like to. Baseball has been good to me. I know I’m one of the lucky ones chasing my dream. My family’s very supportive of my career yet I know they’d welcome me back as a business partner.”

“I’m sure they’re proud of you.”

Caleb nodded. “They are. But I’m not naC/ve. This arm has a limited pitch count. Someday I’ll need to do something else.”

An image of Caleb riding a horse in his Rays uniform flashed in her head, and she smiled again.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing.” She ducked her head, chuckling. “I can’t reconcile the baseball player with the ranch hand, that’s all. Brings up an amusing mental picture.”

“Does it now? I’m here for your amusement. What about you? Will you still be in the industry ten or twelve years from now?”

“I hope not. This lifestyle isn’t really conducive to having a family.” She touched her fingers to her lips. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” Caleb winked.

Her heart thrummed in her chest. What was she doing, sharing all of these details with him? Here she was, gunning for an interview and he’d managed to turn the tables. Go figure.

“So you’d like to have a family?”

“Absolutely. I don’t know how that’s all going to work out, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dream of having kids.”

“I always thought I’d have a big family because that’s what Am—” A pained expression pinched his features.

Britt bit her lip as he stopped short of mentioning Amanda’s name. Again. “Big families are wonderful.”

“You know what else is wonderful?” Caleb stretched his arms overhead. “A good night’s sleep. What do you say we head back?”

A twinge of disappointment caught her by surprise. Of course he was exhausted, but she’d enjoyed their conversation and hated to see the evening end. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

He stood and cleared their trash from the table. “I’m sure you’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

Yes.
Not to mention dealing with Marne’s wrath when she found out Britt had spent the evening with Caleb Scott and failed to ask a single question about the game. The woman was going to have an absolute conniption. Britt stood and followed Caleb to the door.

He went first, holding the door open for her. She stepped outside, the cool evening breeze swirling around them. She shivered.

“Are you cold?” Before she could answer, Caleb unzipped his bag and produced a blue hooded jacket.

“I’m fine, you can wear it.” She rubbed her arms vigorously to ward off the chill.

“Here. I insist.” His eyes flitted over her outfit, and he handed her the jacket. “Not exactly your style, I’m sure, but it will do for now.”

Britt slipped her arms into the sleeves. The woodsy scent of his cologne enveloped her. Caleb reached out and his fingers grazed her cheek as he freed her hair from the confines of the hood. Her stomach did backflips as the air between them crackled with electricity.