Making a Comeback (11 page)

“Been focusing on building my strength.” Or avoiding the possibility that he’d never be the same pitcher. “The doctor is very pleased with the repair. Says I should have no trouble returning to full strength by the time the season starts. But the worst thing I could do would be to rush my recovery.”

Sanders gave him a stare. He could smell bullshit a mile away.

“What’s really going on, man?”

“I’ll tell you everything”—Cooper rolled his shoulders, anxious to get started— “after I make my throws.”

“Okay. I’ll get Brandon to suit up. My nephew’s playing college ball, now. He’s one hell of a catcher.” Sanders had adopted the boy when his sister was killed in a boating accident.

“You could probably handle me,” Cooper joked. A collision at the plate had ended The Colonel’s career shortly after being called up to AAA ball. He’d been so close to his dream. Cooper sometimes wondered how he managed to live with himself. “I’m not throwing hard. Yet.”

“Still, I’ll let the kid warm you up.” Sanders led the way through the facility to the back, where there was plenty of space to warm up. “He’s better than I ever was. And he’s got a couple of weeks before he goes back to college. He’s a sophomore, so he thinks he knows everything. He needs to spend a little time with someone who’s been there.”

“You don’t want me as a role model for the kid.” He was no hero. Not by a long shot.

“We’ll talk. After you warm up.” Sanders shook his head. He’d been trying for years to get Cooper to at least consider joining him as a consultant once his playing days were over. He really wanted Cooper to become one of his coaches for his year-round baseball academy. He had a good staff of former minor league players. Guys who’d almost made it, but for whatever reason hadn’t gone all the way.

Cooper had made it. And he’d pissed it away.

“Sure.” He stretched his neck and shoulders, trying to get loose, and trying to get Annabelle out of his head. She was a married woman. But even if she wasn’t, she deserved better than a guy who’d been so careless with the gifts he’d been given.

“Nathan Cooper.” Brandon approached Cooper with his hand extended. “My uncle’s told me a lot about you.”

The young man stood a little taller than his uncle—probably six-one—a nice looking kid with a bright future ahead of him.

“He’s full of shit.” Cooper shook the kid’s hand. “Don’t believe half of his stories about our playing days.”

“Oh I know he exaggerated his accomplishments,” the kid played along. “But you’re the real deal, man.”

Was.

“So you’re trying to get back in shape, huh?” Brandon bobbed his head, trying to play it cool. “It’s a real honor to be able to work with you.”

“Don’t you watch ESPN?” He couldn’t let the young man idolize him. “I’ve dishonored the game. I’m just trying to see if I’m not a complete fraud.”

Brandon blew out a breath, as if he’d been sucker-punched, but he shook it off. “Let’s get to work, then.”

The kid wasn’t rattled. He just grabbed his gear bag and began putting on his knee pads and chest protector. He stuck his hand in his catcher’s mitt and crouched down behind the plate, pulled down his mask, and popped his fist into his glove.

It was now or never. Time to find out if he still had it. Cooper grabbed a ball from the bucket his friend had set next to the practice mound.

“I’m going to start slow,” he announced. “I haven’t thrown much since the surgery.”

“Sure.” Brandon nodded, but remained in the ready position. The kid was a gamer.

Cooper stood a few feet in front of the rubber. His legs were a little shaky, but they held him upright.

He threw a soft toss toward his target, not even close to full speed. The kid had to reach up to catch it, but he had no trouble making the grab. He stood and tossed it back. Cooper caught it, and without even having to think, he threw back. Toss after toss until he was almost comfortable. Almost. He still couldn’t step up to the mound, though. He needed to get his muscles used to throwing in general before he could push himself to pitch.

But he was running out of time. There was less than a month until the first pitchers started reporting. And he didn’t have a contract, or an invitation to camp. He didn’t have shit.

But he had made a giant step forward. He was able to play a game of catch. A real game of catch with an up-and-coming ballplayer.

“Thanks.” Cooper took one last toss from the catcher. “I think I’m good here.”

“Anytime.” Brandon removed his mask, and walked over to shake hands, but with Cooper’s glove on his right hand and Brandon’s mitt on his left, it was a little awkward. Both men removed their gloves at the same time. The kid tried to extend his left hand at the same time Cooper extended his right. They both gave a nod and Cooper patted Brandon on the shoulder.

“You’re a good catcher, you’ll go far.”

“Thanks.” Brandon smiled, almost as if he was embarrassed by the compliment.

“I mean it. I can see why your uncle is always bragging about you.”

“It’s his job.” Color rose in the kid’s cheeks. “He has to brag about me. But if we’re lucky, I’ll make up for him not making it.”

Brandon nodded toward Sanders, who’d been watching the whole time.

“How old are you, kid?”

“Twenty.”

“Going on forty.” His uncle added with a father’s proud grin. “And he’ll make it. But not for me. He’ll make it because he’s good. Real good. And that’s not just family pride talking.”

“You’ve got talent.” Cooper hoped the kid understood how rare and special he was. “Keep your nose clean. Respect the game. Respect those who came before you. And be an example for those who come after you.”

“I’ll do my best.” Brandon stood with his mask tucked under his arm, looking much older and wiser than a twenty-year-old. Maybe it was because, unlike most kids his age, he knew it took more than talent to make it. It took hard work, dedication, and a whole lot of luck. He also knew it could disappear just like that. One play could end the dream.

Cooper wondered what would have happened if he’d been the one to have his career cut short just one step below the majors. He had no doubt that his friend would have been one hell of a big league ballplayer. And he would have walked away rather than do anything that would tarnish his legacy. He never would have been tempted by the dark side.

“Thanks again.” Cooper couldn’t even begin to explain how good today had felt. He was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could at least get an invitation to camp. At this point, making a team was only secondary to proving to himself that he could still perform.

“Anytime.” Brandon started gathering the equipment, putting stuff away while the two older men headed toward the front of the building.

“Wanna grab a beer and talk?” Sanders asked.

“I haven’t had a beer in over a year.” He hadn’t touched anything stronger than coffee since the suspension. “Trying to keep my nose clean.”

“I still can’t believe you got mixed up in all that.” Sanders shook his head. They’d come up together. Watched guys try to gain an advantage. Try to cheat their way to the top. “You’re the last guy I ever would have thought…”

“Yeah. Me too.” He’d been one of the most vocal opponents of doping. “But I was desperate, man. I saw my career slipping away. My shoulder…”

“That bad?”

“No. that’s the problem. It wasn’t bad enough to need surgery—or so I thought. But it still hurt.” Cooper ran his hands over his face. “I tried everything. Exercise. Yoga. I even tried acupuncture, but by the last month of the season, I could barely lift a beer after a game.”

“Your trainers couldn’t help?”

“I was cocky. Thought I could man up. Power through.” What an idiot he’d been. “I’d been taking these nutritional supplements. Legitimate stuff. And they’d helped for energy. Stamina, if you know what I mean. I was off to a real good start.”

“Yeah, you were lights out.”

“I felt better than I had in years. So when the grind of a long season started wearing on me...” He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of how he’d trusted his so-called friend at FITNatural. “It wasn’t such a stretch to take the next step. I thought they had my back. It wasn’t until after I’d started taking the stuff and it was working that I even stopped to think about what I was putting in my body.”

Unable to look the other man in the eye, he ducked under his cap.

“You know how desperate we were to make it in the first place?” Cooper threw the question out. “That was nothing compared to how desperate I was to stay there.”

He couldn’t expect his friend to understand. Not when he’d had his dream robbed from him.

“Hell if there’d been a potion to regrow the bones in my ankle, I might have given it a shot.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. You were always a bigger man than the rest of us.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sanders tone made him look up. “I would have drunk the blood of a unicorn for just one day in the majors.”

“I just traded my soul. For what?” Cooper was tired of feeling sorry for himself. His former teammates were champions. “So I could finish my last full season two games back in the division? Three back in the wild card? I was running on fumes at the end of that season. Maybe if I’d been man enough to admit I wasn’t right…who knows?”

“Don’t waste your time second guessing yourself.” Sanders had the voice of bitter experience. “Every time I think about what if… What if I hadn’t been so damn competitive? What was one run compared to a career?”

The other man shook his head.

“At least you went out honestly.”

“Honesty doesn’t pay the bills.”

“Neither does a fifty game suspension.” Cooper was starting to think his days of making a living as a ballplayer were over. His phone hadn’t exactly been ringing off the hook. Teams had to be pretty desperate to touch a guy with his reputation and questionable health. And what was that old joke about not wanting to belong to a club that would accept him? That’s how he’d felt about the teams who’d been willing to extend an offer. If they were that bad, he didn’t want anything to do with them.

Talk about cutting off his nose to spite his face.

“Maybe I should start thinking about what else I can do.” Cooper rubbed his shoulder, more out of habit than any stiffness. “Maybe I could become a rock star.”

“No, man.” Sanders clapped him on the good shoulder. “You could come work for me. I always need pitching coaches, and you’ve got experience with that foundation camp.”

“That was more about PR than anything.”

“Tell that to the kids who fall in love with the game. The ones who spend their days at the ballpark instead of out on the street.”

* * * *

After putting away the groceries, Annabelle had spent much of the day on the phone with her agent, the insurance company, even her mother. She’d offered to come out to California but they both knew it was only because that’s what a mother should say.

Annabelle had made an appointment for having her stitches removed on Thursday, but she didn’t intend to have Cooper take her. Her agent wanted to see for himself what damage the accident had done to her face, so he’d rearranged his schedule to drive her.

The whole thing was exhausting. She decided to lean back on the couch and close her eyes, just for a few minutes. But Cooper’s scent lingered and she ended up more agitated than before. She couldn’t get the man out of her head, even though he’d made it very clear he was only interested in saving her.

She didn’t need him. She’d get clearance from the doctor and get a rental until she could repair or replace her car. She was leaning toward replacing the convertible with a safer model. Maybe one of those giant SUV’s like Cooper drove. One that would leave her and the girls more protected.

Frustrated, tired, and still a little stiff, she walked down to the bus stop to meet the girls after school.

Cooper was already there. He’d promised the girls he’d show up. She wanted to be mad at him, but her stupid heart was happy to see him. He looked like he’d just come from a workout. A gray T-shirt clung to his muscular upper body. Black shorts hugged his strong thighs and hung low on his hips. Sweat glistened on his tanned skin.

Why did he have to be so damned good-looking? And why did her divorce have to take so long? She and Clayton had been over for a long time. She should have filed for divorce once she’d suspected he was traveling to Florida for something other than Goliaths’ business.

How many other lies had she believed? The biggest had been that she’d somehow deserved a man like Clayton Barry. By accepting his money and everything that came with it, she’d accepted his treatment of her.

Well, no more. She wasn’t going to let a man treat her any way she didn’t want to be treated.

“Thanks for being here in case I got hung up,” she called to Cooper. “But I got this.”

“It’s no trouble.” He flashed a heart-melting smile. “I was just finishing up my run.”

“Well, you can head on home, take a shower.” The minute she said it, she knew it was a mistake. The image of him in the shower, naked, with water sluicing off his skin, popped up into her mind. Damn. Her skin heated as she imagined joining him in that shower. Soaping him up, rubbing him down.

He stared at her as if he could read her mind. Shifting his body, he cleared his throat.

“Well, I said I’d be here for the girls, so…” Right. He wasn’t there for her. He was there for her daughters. The thought made her even more self-conscious.

“Look, I appreciate all you’ve done for us, but we’re fine. Really,” she said. “I can take care of myself and my children.”

“Of course you can. But you also could use some support.”

“I think I gave you the wrong impression when I told you I didn’t have many friends here. I do. I just couldn’t think too clearly when I was in the hospital.” And he was standing there looking so gorgeous. “I was on the phone all afternoon, talking to my agent, my insurance company. I even got the police report detailing the accident.”

“What did the police say?” Concern laced his voice.

“It wasn’t my fault.” She hated to admit how relieved that made her. “Some kid was texting and ran a red light.”