Going Deep (34 page)

* * *

He would pick a
place where parking was nearly impossible. Megan’s headache hadn’t completely
gone away, and thoughts of her wasted day didn’t do anything to help. Now, here
she was playing musical parking spaces, instead of buying groceries to get her
through the week. One more thing to heap on Jeff Holder’s head.

She expected a
restaurant filled with players and fans what she found was a cozy place with
oilcloth- covered tables and dripping candles jammed into empty Chianti
bottles. The wood paneling was dark with a combination of age and garlic fumes,
and there wasn’t a Texas Mustangs T-shirt in sight. Megan spotted Jeff at a
table against the back wall, and she felt a jab to her gut, only this time
there wasn’t anyone else around. How could he do that to her? He looked right
at her and motioned for her to join him. She sucked in a deep breath and tried
to remember why she’d come. Christopher. She’d come for an autograph, and as
soon as she got it, she’d leave.

He stood as she
approached. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

Megan sat and he
signaled for the waiter. He ordered a bottle of wine as if he knew exactly what
he wanted. Megan interrupted. “Please. Don’t. I can’t stay.”

Jeff placed the
order anyway and rested his crossed forearms on the table. “Why did you come?”

For a split
second, looking into his extraordinarily blue eyes, she couldn’t remember why
she’d come. A slow burn started somewhere near her heart and melted everything
from there to her core. “I...I need your autograph,” she blurted out.

He leaned back
and studied her. “I signed your program.”

The waiter
returned with Jeff’s wine, two glasses and a basket heaped with fragrant bread.
Jeff took the bottle and filled his glass. Megan covered hers with her hand.

“One glass. It
won’t hurt to have one glass while you tell me why you’re angry with me.”

She moved her
hand and watched the ruby liquid swirl into her glass. Just because he’d filled
her glass didn’t mean she had to drink it. The interruption allowed her to
wrestle some control over her wayward body, enough to find the program he’d
signed and slide it to his side of the table. “I’ll tell you why I’m angry. How
dare you? What kind of man does something like this? All I wanted was your
autograph, and instead, I get a pick-up line. The only reason I came here
tonight was to get your autograph, and only your autograph.”

Jeff picked up
the program and looked it over while he sipped his wine. Megan could almost
hear her wristwatch ticking in the silence that hung between them. Eventually,
he tossed the program across the table at her. “So?”

“So?” Anger
boiled her blood. “So? That’s all you have to say? I used my day off to go to
the game just to get your autograph, and this is what I got?” She stabbed the
cover with her index finger. “Now, here I am, still trying to get the autograph
of a man I can’t stand the sight of, when I should be doing all the things I
put off so I could go to the game.”

He set his glass
on the table and for once, she thought she might have his full attention. “Why
is my autograph so important? I’m pretty sure you don’t want it for yourself.”

“Darn right I
don’t. I don’t know you from Adam, but I know someone who thinks you are the
best thing since sliced bread. I can’t take him this.” She flicked the program
toward him again. “What would I tell him?” She shook her head. “As it is, I
don’t know how I can act like you’re still a hero when he’s spouting off about
you, without hurling. Anyway, I promised I’d bring him your autograph, and I’m
going to do it.” There. She’d said what was on her mind. Maybe it wasn’t
eloquent – who said hurling anymore anyway? Judging from the furrow between his
eyebrows, and the way he’d narrowed those magnificent eyes at her, she’d gotten
her point across.

“Hurling? I
can’t believe you said that. Who are you? And why don’t you tell me who your
friend is, and why he sent you to get my autograph. Why didn’t he come
himself?”

“My name is
Megan Long. I’m a Pediatric Nurse at Southwest General. Christopher is one of
my patients. I can’t go into specifics, but I can tell you he isn’t well enough
to come to a game, but he watches you on TV. He has your baseball card, and he
keeps it with him twenty-four/seven.” As she spoke, Jeff sat up and listened
intently. Perhaps she was going to get that autograph after all.

“Do you have
something you want me to sign?”

“Uhh. No.” Damn.
Why hadn’t she thought of that? “I didn’t think that far ahead.” She knew there
wasn’t anything in her purse she’d cleaned it out before she went to the
ballpark. She glanced around the restaurant – nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Okay. I’ll make
a deal with you. I’m hungry. Stay while I eat – I’ll even buy you dinner. When
we’re done, there’s a sporting goods store down the street. I know the owner.
We’ll go there, get something suitable, and I’ll sign it for Christopher.”

Something in his
tone of voice calmed her. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought. “You’d do
that?”

“Sure. Why
wouldn’t I? Look, Megan, I’m sorry about the program. If I’d known, I wouldn’t
have done that. In my defense, I don’t get all that many beautiful women trying
to get my autograph.” His smile was a ray of sunshine in the dim restaurant,
and Megan’s insides turned to liquid. “Not that I mind signing for kids. I like
kids. But a beautiful woman? It was a calculated risk, but one I’m glad I
took.”

“Well…I guess I
understand, but I’m not entirely sure I believe you.” She picked up her wine
glass and took a sip, glad her hand was steadier on the outside than she was on
the inside. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Jeff signaled
the waiter again, and a short time later they were served an authentic Italian
dinner the likes of which Megan had never tasted. “This is wonderful. Do you
come here often?”

He urged her to
take another slab of garlic bread from the basket in the center of the table.
“Once a week, when we’re in town. If I ate like this all the time, I’d be as
big as a barn.”

Megan closed her
eyes and savored the burst of rich flavor. She swallowed, licked her lips to
get every delicious drop, then opened her eyes. Jeff sat frozen, his fork
halfway to his mouth. His eyes smoldered with unmistakable desire. Every female
cell in her body reacted to the barrage of pheromones coming from across the
table. She reminded herself she didn’t really know this guy, and he’d lured her
here, admittedly for his own reasons. It took some doing, but she wrestled her
hormones under control. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“You sure about
that?” He popped the morsel on his fork into his mouth and chewed, all the
while watching her watch him. “I think you’re as attracted to me as I am to
you. But that can wait. Tell me something about yourself.”

“You know
everything you need to know. I’m a nurse. I work with sick kids.”

He was
persistent she’d give him that. It was one thing to be evasive, another to be
downright rude, so when he began to ask specific questions, she answered – as
vaguely as possible. Still he managed to find out more about her than he had a
right, or need, to know.

“Your job must
be difficult. How do you do it?”

“I like kids. I
like being a nurse. The two go together.”

He sat back from
his empty plate and sipped his wine while the waiter cleared the table. “It’s
more than that. I think it takes a special person to do what you do. I’m sure
Christopher has plenty of nurses who take care of him. None of them took their
day off to hunt up an autograph for him.”

He was right
about that, but that didn’t mean the other nurses were any less caring. They
all put in long hours and gave up personal time in one way or another. “No,
they didn’t. But they care about him every bit as much as I do.”

“I’m sure they
care about his physical self, but the autograph won’t make him well.”

“There’s more to
getting well than just medicine. A smile can heal too.”

Jeff signed the
check and stood. “Let’s go. You held up your end of the bargain. Now it’s my
turn.”