No Better Man (15 page)

“But I can’t see her legs from here,” Shooter complained.

Bryce fought the urge to deck him. “We’re not here to stare at her legs.” His gaze wandered over to her. He couldn’t deny that it was a nice view, especially in those tight black pants…

“See?” Shooter jogged over to him and nudged his shoulder. “You can’t take your eyes off of her.”

“Sure I can.” He looked toward the outfield where Yates was trying to flirt with some woman on the other team, the poor jerk. He must’ve said something stupid because she flipped him off.

“Come on, Walker,” Shooter persisted. “I’ve seen that look before. You want her.”

His face started that burning flush, so he backed away and tossed the ball to Shooter again.

“Wait a minute.” His friend cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “You already had her, didn’t you?”

“Had who?” Sawyer chimed in, jogging over. “Avery?” He didn’t wait for a response. “You and Avery, huh?” His cousin’s sly grin heckled him. “She’s way too good for you, bro.”
Yep.
Typical Sawyer. Since they’d grown up two miles away from each other, Sawyer had always felt like a brother. Most days he felt like an older brother who made fun of Bryce whenever he got the chance.

He shook his head. “You guys are nuts. You know that?” He held up his glove. “And you throw like a bunch of pansies.”

Even an insult didn’t distract them.

“You’re holding out on us.” Shooter stomped over and stabbed a pointer finger into Bryce’s chest. “You don’t look at a woman like that unless—”

“Unless you’ve done the deed,” Sawyer cut in with a solid shot to his shoulder. “What’d you do, Walker? Seduce her in the hospital?”

“You’re sick.” And alarmingly observant. He swiped the sweat from his forehead. Was it humid out tonight?

“So you wouldn’t care if I walked over there and grabbed her ass, then.” Shooter took a threatening step toward the bench. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

Sawyer’s eyes widened into a warning. They both knew Shooter did stupid shit like that every day.

Bryce dodged in front of him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She’s tougher than she looks.” And he might have to throw a punch if Shooter made good on that threat.

“I’m willing to chance it.” He took a few more steps.

Bryce chased him while Sawyer laughed his ass off.

“Fine. I like her. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Like her or want to hook up with her?” Shooter demanded.

He pounded the ball into his glove. These two were the last ones he wanted to discuss this with. Sawyer, who was madly in love with his new wife and Shooter, who was madly in love with every woman who walked past him. But it wasn’t like they were giving him much of a choice. “I like her. I’m interested, okay?”

“No offense, man.” Sawyer clapped a hand on his shoulder. “But she doesn’t seem too interested in you.”

“Yeah, well it’s been awhile since I’ve played the game.” He’d blown her off in the truck. That definitely didn’t score him any points. But before that, she’d gotten all red and flushed whenever he’d touched her…

“You should go for it, Walker.” Shooter’s smug expression relaxed into thoughtfulness.

His cousin glanced over at Avery and grinned at him. “Shooter’s right. It’s time. This is your chance to get back in the game, buddy.”

If only it was that easy.

A
very slipped the Minuzo Classic baseball glove on her hand, inhaling the musty scent of oiled leather. It fit her perfectly, snug and soft against her skin.

Squinting into the late afternoon sun, she analyzed the team’s lineup for the field. Paige stood on the pitcher’s mound again, right where she belonged. The woman threw quite the impressive curveball for someone who’d never played on a real team.

Shooter had been exiled to the outfield along with the other two maintenance workers. In her humble opinion, he belonged on first. For being such an oaf, he had quick reflexes. Instead, Sawyer stood near first base ogling his wife, who’d been assigned to second, which was actually pretty sweet, even if Sawyer seemed better suited to catcher.

Not that Bryce had asked her opinion on the team lineup. Hard to ask when someone won’t talk to you. Her question had shut him down faster than a hard-drive crash. Since he’d sauntered down to the field, he’d looked over her, past her, and through her. Never right at her. That didn’t stop her from looking at him, though. Her eyes had followed him around all night. At present, he stood between second and third base, playing one of the most important positions on the field: shortstop.

And she was stuck on the bench.

Leaning over, she snatched a ball off the ground and stuffed it into the glove. Wow. What a grip. With that glove on her hand, she’d be able to make any catch—high, low, wild… She pulled off the glove and ran her fingers over the soft leather. Not like she’d even get a chance to use it. After tonight, she wouldn’t go to any more of the Walker Mountain Ranch baseball games. She wouldn’t hang out with Bryce. She couldn’t. He messed with her head too much, which was bad enough, but he’d also started to mess with her heart…touching her, kissing her, being so protective. But Bryce could never be with anyone. Not really. His heart belonged to someone else, and she wanted more than being someone’s second best.

A beefy man from the other team—some insurance agency, judging by the sound of their name—strutted up to the plate.

Out on the mound, Paige wedged her toe into the dirt and assumed the pitcher’s stance. Avery couldn’t help but smile. She could relate to that competitive streak.

“You ready for this, Collins?” Paige called. “I’d hate to embarrass you like I did last year.”

“Shut up, Harper,” the man shot back. “Just toss the damn ball.”

“You got it.” She wound up and hurled it in fast and hard, so that it curved slightly just as it sailed over home plate.

Collins swung low but still connected, launching a pop fly that headed straight for Bryce. An easy jog toward third, and Bryce raised his glove to snag the ball, giving the team their first out. Everyone gathered around to congratulate him, give him a good whack on the back, while Bryce’s face lit with the wry smile she’d only seen when he hung out with his friends.

A heavy sigh welled up as she watched them out there. It reminded her of a scene out of one of those quaint Hallmark movies she’d secretly watched after a tough day at the office. The small-town community knit together by a connection to each other and to the place they called home. They obviously had a history, a bond.

And she was stuck on the bench.

Everyone jogged back to their zones and Paige struck out another man, who stomped back to his team’s dugout.

The team cheered again. Shooter plowed over and lifted Paige off the ground, hoisting her onto his shoulders and parading in a circle around the mound while she beat him with her fists and demanded he put her down.

Avery mustered a smile to cover up a yawning hollow feeling. Watching them only amplified the emptiness of her own life. She lived on the fringes of relationships, working nonstop—for what? For her father?

Sure, she had friends. People liked her. She was good at her job. And she’d dated some great guys, but it never went anywhere because she never let it. She preferred things less complicated, especially after watching Dad’s heart slowly die over the years.

But staying at the ranch had made it painfully obvious that her life was missing something.

Significance was only found in relationships. As much hell as Bryce had lived through, he had real relationships, solid friendships.

And what did she have?

She slipped the glove back on her hand. Best not to dwell on that question too long…

Gravel crunched behind her, thank goodness. She needed a serious distraction.

Elsie bustled over to the bench, balancing a woven basket in her arms. The sight of her tugged at Avery’s heart and made her miss her own mother in a way she hadn’t for years.

“Avery!” Elsie set down the basket and greeted her with a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she gushed as she settled herself on the bench next to her.

“Me, too.” She was. Even if it hurt to know she wouldn’t be there much longer. “I’d be happier if I was out there, though,” she said, gesturing to the field, where Bryce had just caught another ball.

He was so athletic, lean but built, tall…

“I know, dear. But Bryce is cautious.” Elsie nudged the basket closer to her. “He’s only trying to protect you.” The older woman’s smile implied that there was more behind his desire to protect her.

There wasn’t. Avery already knew that for a fact.

“I get it.” She leaned over and peered into the basket so Elsie couldn’t see her face, and almost drooled at the sight of the biggest, fattest chocolate chip cookies she’d ever seen. “One of those babies might make up for being benched.”

“Well, then…” Leaning over the basket, Elsie took her time choosing the best one. Finally, she plucked one out of the batch and handed it to Avery, along with a heart-shaped napkin. Then she unwrapped one for herself and nibbled on the edge. “No need to worry, dear. We have another game on Wednesday night. By then, you’ll be as good as new.”

A sense of sorrow pinged again before deepening into an ache. She wouldn’t be there Wednesday night. She couldn’t stay. Tonight at dinner, she’d get his damn signature on the contract, then she’d walk away before it got any harder to stay.

She peeked over at the woman who’d made her breakfast every morning, who’d been so open and welcoming. How could she tell Elsie she was leaving?

“Um…” Shifting to a more comfortable position, Avery stared out at the field so she didn’t have to face the woman’s kind eyes. “Actually, I have to leave in the morning.”

“Leave? Whatever do you mean, dear? Why?”

What could she say?
I have feelings for your son…feelings he could never reciprocate?
She bunched her shoulders into a slightly painful shrug, given the tension in her neck. “I have to get back to work. There’s a lot to do.”

Elsie clucked at her. “Work.
Pshaw,
” she muttered, biting into her cookie. She covered her mouth with her hand as she chewed, then dabbed her lips with a napkin. “It seems to me you need a vacation, dear. A real vacation. Why don’t you stay another week? Enjoy some rest in the mountains?”

Elsie was as bad as Bryce in the temptation department.

She looked past the field and out to the mountains that surrounded it, and for the first time in her life, she understood what “Purple Mountains Majesty” meant. The granite peaks gleamed with a royal glow, solid rock plunging so high into the sky’s blue depths they almost looked purple.

Even with the sounds of cheering and heckling coming from the field, the space around her echoed with a peaceful stillness that had started to influence her. Things were slower in the mountains, quieter. There was space to think, to feel, to be. Back in Chicago, she lived in a hurry, stilettos pounding the pavement to and from work, to and from meetings, to and from dinners with Dad…

A real vacation. Yes. It was tempting. When was the last time she’d taken a vacation? There’d been the week in Barbados last year, but that was for the opening of their resort, which had demanded that she work and attend meetings from eight o’clock in the morning until well past eleven o’clock at night. She’d never even had the chance to put on the bikini she’d bought.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” Elsie leaned close, brushing her shoulder against Avery’s. “You know that, right?”

“I know.” She’d never felt so welcome anywhere in her life.

“It’s been wonderful to have you,” the woman murmured and Avery could’ve sworn tears gathered in her eyes. “Things have been lonely since Yvonne passed. If you want the truth, I was starting to lose hope. I didn’t think we’d ever welcome another guest.”

A guest. That was exactly how Elsie had treated her, even though she’d been up front about her agenda from the beginning.

“I was thinking we could have a barbeque this weekend.” Elsie polished off her cookie and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “We’ll invite the whole team. Why, you can give everyone tips on batting. Lord knows some of them could use the help.” Her lips lifted in a hopeful look that sent Avery’s resolve spiraling. This was so hard.

“I’m sorry.” She wrapped her cookie in the napkin and set it next to her on the bench. “I can’t stay.”

“Whyever not?” The woman eyed the cookie on the bench, obviously concerned that Avery hadn’t finished it.

She couldn’t, though. Sadness had ruined the taste. “Because Bryce and I have…”
Hmmm.
How could she best phrase their complicated relationship? “We’ve gotten close.”

“Mmm hmmm,” Elsie murmured, eyes wide with interest, inviting her to continue.

Even though she’d rather not, she felt she owed Bryce’s mother an explanation, especially after everything she’d done for her. “But he’s still in love with Yvonne, and I know how hard that is. After my mom died, my father wasn’t capable of loving anyone. He’s still not.”

“I see.” Elsie gazed out at the field, her face softened into a thoughtful expression.

“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done.” Avery tried to make light of the heaviness between them with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ve gained about fifteen pounds eating all of your wonderful cooking. I’ll probably have to buy a whole new wardrobe when I get home.”

But Elsie wasn’t easily distracted by a joke. She didn’t even seem to hear it.

“You know, dear,” she said in her sweet, motherly tone, “I lost Bryce’s dad a long time ago. He had a heart attack when he was only thirty.”

So Bryce had never known his father? She watched him out there on the field, laughing at something Shooter said. “That must’ve been so hard.”

“Oh, my, yes.” Emotion quieted her voice. “I was angry and lost. But I loved Bryce too much to let myself stay that way.”

“You never moved on? Never got remarried?” That seemed impossible. There was something about Elsie that drew you in, that made you want to know her. She was so different from Dad. There wasn’t one hint of bitterness or guilt anywhere in her. She seemed so free.

“I didn’t have to remarry. I already had the love of life with me every day.” She glanced in Bryce’s direction, and her smile held so much—a blend of pride and joy and hope. Her wise blue eyes met Avery’s. “Real love is the only thing in this world that can make you free, dear. It’s the only thing that can help you heal.” She squeezed her shoulder. “But you have to choose it. I can’t say what Bryce will choose. He knows how to love. Trust me. He’s a bit fierce but once he gives his heart to someone, they have it forever.”

That was exactly what she was worried about. He’d already given his heart away. If she chose Bryce, she’d always live in the shadow of that knowledge.

Out on the field, Sawyer managed to tag someone out on first.

“Three! That’s three!” Paige yelled, and the Walker Mountain Ranch Misfits ran for the bench.

“You’re still planning to join us for dinner tonight, aren’t you?” Elsie stood and collected her basket.

“Are you kidding?” Avery grinned up at her. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

She couldn’t miss it. Tonight, she’d end this. She’d get his signature and deliver the signed contract to her father.

Then she’d hop on the first flight back to Chicago before it got any harder to leave.

Another day, another victory.

Bryce high-fived Sawyer and Timmons as they dashed toward the bench for their post-game snacks, courtesy of Mom. He’d tried telling her he wasn’t in Little League anymore, but she still had a hard time coming to a game empty-handed. Not that anyone complained. In fact, Elsie Walker’s baked goods had earned quite the reputation. Those cookies she was currently handing out were known to draw plenty of fans from town who’d figured out she always brought extras for the people in the stands who cheered for her team. If you happened to like the opponents, though, forget it. No cookie for you.

No cookie for him, either. Because Mom happened to be standing right next to Avery, and he still hadn’t figured out how to answer her question. Not that she seemed to care. Every time he’d gotten near her, she’d managed to concentrate pretty hard on those stats. She seemed to have plenty to say to Mom, though. They’d spent the entire inning with their heads tilted together, and it hadn’t looked like they were chatting about the weather.

Damn.
He’d never been good at this. When Yvonne used to mention his drinking, he’d blow her off exactly the way he did Avery in the car. Never knew how to bring up her depression, either. Those weeks she’d curl up in bed, too weary to do much of anything, he’d avoid her, avoid it all, and practically move into the bar. He’d had a problem even then, never knew when to quit. But he never wanted to talk about it. Never wanted to talk about anything.

Nope.
He was more of a doer. So instead of heading to the bench where everyone celebrated, he jogged the bases, picking up each one so he could store them in the truck until the next game. He’d made it to third when Shooter lumbered over, munching on a cookie.

“Dude, you gonna go over there or what?”

He knelt to collect the base…and so he wouldn’t have to face his friend. “Pardon?”

“How do you expect to get back in the game if you don’t even talk to her?”

How did Shooter expect him to pick up home base when he wouldn’t get out of his way? He stood. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied. Because the last person he’d ever discuss Avery with was Shooter.