Homestands (Chicago Wind #1) (31 page)

The feeling lasted into the night. Dinner at Phillip’s was her suggestion, but Mike jumped at the idea. Their old booth was empty, and Mike led her to it, handing her the same laminated menu from their high school years.

She couldn’t get over the change in him. His eyes rarely left hers, and his smile lit every inch of his face. His laughter took her back to their early years, but the constant interruptions reminded her that time had passed. People she hadn’t seen in a decade pulled up a chair to talk or ask Mike for an autograph. People neither of them knew also stopped by, wanting an autograph or a picture.

After half an hour of steady interruptions, Mike asked the waitress for a piece of paper. He folded it in half, wrote “Do Not Disturb” in bold letters, and stuck the paper in the menu clip on the aisle side of the table. Then he joined her on her side of the booth, his arm around the seatback behind her. He’d turned his back to the room and focused on her.

“Meg?” Mike’s voice at the top of the stairs jolted her back to the present. “I’m taking Terrell next door.”

“I’ll be ready when you get back.” She’d have to hurry to keep that from turning into a lie. She changed into lightweight black pants and a white shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves and pin-tuck detailing. She added a turquoise necklace and matching bracelet. Again she examined herself in the mirror. What would Mike think?

Downstairs, the front door shut. He was back already? She sprayed her hair, then pulled on black slingbacks. Their first date could begin.

She descended the stairs, her steps muffled on the stair runner.

Mike stood in the foyer and stared into the living room. He’d dressed up as well, wearing gray pants and a blue dress shirt that fit over his cast, the blue in the shirt bringing out the rich browns in his hair.

But he looked far away.

He wasn’t regretting this, was he?

“Hello?” she said from the last step.

His distant look vanished. He turned, his eyebrows rising. “Wow.” Smiling, he held out his hand.

Meg laid her hand in his palm. It felt right, their hands together again.

“Wow,” he said again. “You look incredible.”

As long as he thought so. “You do too.”

“Not as good as you. No one’s going to notice me tonight.”

“They’ll notice you, Mike.”

“For all the wrong reasons.” He winked at her and opened her front door, his mouth forming a tight smile. “I think we better go.”

Mike drove to an Italian restaurant where a valet took his keys. The packed parking lot made her take a deep breath as they started up the sidewalk. What would it be like to date a star in public?

She reached for his hand.

Mike turned with a smile that changed to concern. “What’s wrong?”

For once she felt relief at how easily he read her. She leaned into his arm. “How much privacy will we have?”

“Plenty. You’ll see.” He opened the restaurant’s door.

People filled the entry. Those nearest the door glanced their way before doing a double-take and nudging companions who hadn’t turned.

Meg tried not to show her doubt. They’d never be left alone.

Mike pressed his hand to the small of her back and guided her through the crowd, which parted for them. Some women checked Mike out. Several men patted him on the back and asked about his arm and when he’d be back in the lineup. Mike answered, still moving them forward until they reached the maitre d’, who finished with the group ahead of them and then led Meg and Mike up a staircase that opened onto a quiet second floor.

They walked past banquet rooms and closed doors with voices behind them to French doors with delicate floral etchings in the frosted glass. The man opened the doors and moved aside.

Stepping inside, Meg forgot her discomfort. A warm gray colored the walls. The trim was a soft winter white, the hand-scraped floors a dark chocolate brown. In the room’s center sat a small, round, rustic table with two pale, upholstered chairs. Ornate silver and cream china sat atop the table in two place settings. An upholstered chair and loveseat, both matching the table’s chairs, formed a sitting area, and against a separate wall sat a mahogany sideboard decorated with fresh flowers and antique china.

By the time she’d absorbed her surroundings, Mike sat on the love seat, watching her, his arm across the back and an ankle resting on his knee. He patted the empty space. “Come sit with me.”

He didn’t have to ask, really. She seated herself beside him, crossing her legs.

His hand cupped her shoulder. “What do you think?”

“I can’t say I’ve had a private dining room like this.”

“I mean the room. As a designer, what do you think?”

“I like it. It has an elegant, restored-home look.”

He surveyed the room. “It reminded me of you.”

She almost didn’t speak. But leaving questions unasked could be fatal later on. “You’ve been here before?”

“Last year. I came with Adam Destin and his wife. Remember him?”

Relief filled her. “Sure. You keep in touch?”

“I stay at his house when we travel to Texas.”

“What’s his wife like?”

“Shauni’s nice—one of those women who doesn’t care if people know she just wants to be a wife and mom. Did I tell you they have twins?”

“Adam?” She shook her head at the mental picture of Adam cradling two crying babies. “Can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”

Mike chuckled. “He’s staying at my house next week when Texas comes to town. I’ll have to bring him over so Terrell can meet him.”

Terrell still talked about meeting the other Wind players. Another all-star athlete, and he’d never recover. “It’ll make his day.”

“You know what else would make his day? Going to the All-Star Game.”

She’d forgotten about the upcoming event. “You want to take him to San Francisco?”

“I want to take both of you. Terrell could sit with me on the field during the Home Run Derby. We could take him to Alcatraz, show him Al Capone’s cell—”

She faked doubt, hiding her smile at his contagious excitement. “Where would we stay?”

“I’ll get a room for you and Terrell. My whole family’s coming.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “We’re renting a bunch of suites.”

“Everyone will be there? Betsy? Linda?”

“Nieces, nephews, and grandniece.”

Seeing Patty and Davis didn’t appeal, but she missed Betsy and Linda. They’d been the big sisters she’d never had. “I’m sold. But who gets to tell Terrell?”

Mike gave her his best puppy-dog look. “Me? Please?”

She laughed. “I guess, since you are the all-star.” She rested her head against his arm. His muscles pulled as he shifted toward her. “Thank you for doing this, Mike. I was nervous, dating you with people watching.”

“I know. No normal dates for us.” The distant look she’d seen at home returned. “Meg…”

She held her breath. What bomb would he throw at her? What woman or story—

“I should probably tell you I’ve been getting some strange mail.”

Was that all? She let out her breath. No more imagining. She’d have to trust him. “What kind of mail?”

“Photo copies. Old articles about my injuries.”

“Your arm?”

“No, my dislocated shoulder four years ago. It’s somewhat mundane, but there’s no return address, no message really.”

She opened her mouth to dismiss his concern, then remembered how accurately he’d pinpointed Ben. “You seem nervous about them.”

“I’m not nervous.” He shot her a grin. “Uneasy. I found a note taped to my garage door last night.”

“Someone was at your house?” She pictured a hooded man raising a crowbar over Mike as he stood outside his garage. “Mike, you have to tell the police.”

“I did. They took the note.”

If he’d already called the police, he was more concerned than he let on. “What did it say?”

He eyed her.

“You can’t
not
tell me what the note said. I’ll worry.”

“You’ll worry if I tell you.”

“Now I’m officially worried.”

He laughed.

She smacked his hand. “What did it say?”

“It said… It was a little personal this time.”

Something about her? Or Terrell?

Mike raised his eyebrows. “Don’t blow this out of proportion.”

“Michael.”

“All right. It asked if I’d had a good day.”

A good day? Her mind drifted to Friday and the way they’d been alone in the open. Had someone been watching them?

“I knew you’d take this too seriously.”

“Like you’re not. What are you going to do?”

“What am I supposed to do? The police know. Nothing’s going to happen anyway.”

He was saying that for her sake. She wrapped her arms around herself. “The police had better find this stalker.”

“They will.” He tipped her chin his way until their eyes met. “No stalker’s going to get the best of me, though. Or of my first date with you.”

He was right. Tonight belonged to them. Whoever was hassling Mike—Ben, someone else—he wasn’t here. She relaxed and returned his smile. Mike was capable of defending himself, despite having one arm.

“Do you know what I wanted to do?” he asked.

“What?”

“I wanted to write him back.”

She leaned closer, whispering into his smile. “What would you have written?”

“That I had an incredible day with the most beautiful woman.”

How she’d missed him, missed the way he made her feel special. Now it was time to make him feel special too. “I love that, Mike.”

His eyes darkened with emotion. “Good.”

To preserve the illusion of a true first date, Mike walked Meg to her front door and asked her to tell Terrell he’d see him at church in the morning. Tonight he wanted to relive how he’d felt thirteen years ago when he’d dropped Meg off that very first time.

He hadn’t remembered the drive home then, and as he opened the garage door that led to the mudroom, he realized he didn’t remember this drive, either. All he could think about was Meg curled up beside him, her face calm and happy with those green eyes that captured his attention. He could still feel the shape of her hand, slender and soft, in his. A faint trace of her perfume lingered on his right sleeve. What a perfect night, marred only by the fact that it had to end.

He caught himself whistling as he tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter. How long since he’d walked around his house, whistling?

His stomach rumbled.

He backtracked to the refrigerator. Well, it had been over two hours since his last bite of food. And he had been too distracted by the company to eat much. He scanned the contents. Nothing he could assemble in less than thirty seconds. Time to have Maria stock up again.

Or go back to Meg’s. Eat there. With her.

He leaned over his phone. Should he call her? Yes, it was late, but—

The phone rang.

Mike jumped, a swear word launching from his mouth. He balled his hand into a fist and shook it. That was a habit he had to change. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Sorry.”

The phone rang again, and Mike answered it. Meg must not have wanted the night to end, either. He could hear the grin in his voice. “Hey.”

“Mike?”

His smile faded.

The woman sounded breathless as if she was surprised he’d answered. “Mike, this is—”

He pressed the end button and stared at the phone as if it was a traitor. Why had she called?

The phone rang again.

Not Meg’s number.

Man, he should have looked at that the first time. He answered and spoke immediately. “Don’t call me.”

“Mike, listen—”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“One minute, please—”

“No, Brooke!” Her name felt like an explosion in the suddenly quiet room. He swallowed, his mouth dry. “Don’t call me. Ever.”

Again he ended the call, this time blocking her number.

There. That was done.

He set the phone back on the counter and looked around the empty kitchen.

He wasn’t hungry anymore.

In his bedroom, he sat on the edge of his bed. The silence circled him while memories of his betrayal of Meg played, memories he would never be rid of. His stupidity would always be a part of who they were. They could never go back to what had been before.

Especially not with Brooke trying to butt her way back in.

He gave in to the old fear and guilt and let tears fall into his hands.

“Here. Catch.”

From the bottom of his basement stairs, Mike tossed a bottled water to Adam Destin who was sprawled across the couch, texting on his phone. The Rangers had gotten in late the previous night. Like last year, Adam was staying in one of Mike’s guestrooms for the four-day visit.

Adam set the bottle aside, still texting. “How’d the interview go?”

“Fine.” Mike dropped into a chair and finished off his water. “I do a call-in interview with those guys every couple weeks so I know them pretty well. They don’t give me much grief.”

“That’s cool. Hey, Shauni says hi.”

“Oh. Tell her hi. What, do you guys just text when you’re gone instead of talking?”

Adam looked up long enough to smirk at him. “No, she and some friends are at the zoo with the kids. So I just sent her a quick text. Speaking of women, what about Meg? I forgot to ask last night. How’s that going?”

“We’re good. Just went on our official first date.”

“You’re back together?”

“Since Friday. But so far, so good.” As long as the past stayed out of their way.

“Shauni will be happy to hear that.”

“Yeah. By the way…” Mike waited for Adam to look up from his phone.

He didn’t.

“Dude, did you give my number to Brooke?”

Adam looked up. “Uh, yeah.” A sheepish smile covered his face. “I guess she called?”

“Yeah, she called.” What was Adam thinking? “What are you giving her my number for?”

“Well…” Adam set his phone aside, scratched his head. He gave Mike an apologetic look. “Did you talk to her?”

“Of course not. I blocked her number.”

“Connor.” Adam groaned. “Dude, you shouldn’t have done that. You need to talk to her.”

“Now you’re on Brooke’s side? You want me to get back with her?”