No Breaking My Heart (6 page)

Quigley waited for her, his “snack face” expectant. She crossed to the counter and removed the lid from his treat jar, shaped like a pug. Three small Milk Bones in hand, she returned to the table. The dog barked excitedly. He spun his cart in a circle.

Alyn knelt, set the biscuits on the floor. She unhooked the straps on the wheelchair and lifted him out. He stretched on his belly, and she arranged his back legs in a position that was familiar to him, and would've made him comfortable had there been feeling in his lower spine. He nuzzled her hand. She rose, and he enjoyed his treats.

Halo looked down at the dog, asked her, “Can he crawl or scoot on his butt? Wag his tail?” Logical questions.

“No wagging.” She missed the swish of his curly tail. “His chest and front legs are strong. He's quite fast at both. I try and change his position throughout the day. For circulation.”

“Is the paralysis permanent?”

“Could be temporary, could be long-term,” she told him. “Two lower vertebrae were crushed in the accident. He's had surgery. The nerve endings haven't fully healed.”

“Pffft, pffft.”
Danny made a sparking sound. “The endings sometimes flicker like hot wires.”

“He gets tingly,” Alyn added. “His body twitches as if there's feeling. He's yet to put weight on his back legs. Still,” she sighed, “we're hopeful.”

“You should call him Sparky.”

“Or not.” Alyn stared at Halo. Was the man serious? Joking? She wasn't certain. He raised an eyebrow as if the name was a perfect fit. To him, anyway.

Martha got his humor, even if it fell flat with Alyn. Her mom's eyes twinkled, but she swallowed her smile. She added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee instead.

Danny liked Halo's suggestion. A lot. “How about Quiggie Sparks? What do you think, sis?”

Alyn was hesitant. She didn't want to dash their bonding moment, but neither did she want to consent to a name change. “Let me give it some thought. He responds to Quigley—”

“Quiggie Sparks,” Danny called to the dog.

The pug barked back.

Danny pumped his arm. “He likes it.”

So it seemed. Traitor. “Quigley for now,” she gently said. Danny's disappointment was expressed in an apologetic whisper to Halo. A whisper Alyn couldn't help but hear. He didn't have a low indoor voice. “Do you mind that we stick with Quigs? He is Alyn's dog.”

The man lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Alyn can keep Quigley, but he'll always be Quiggie Sparks to us guys.”

“Us guys.” Danny beamed.

The ballplayer had the power to shift alliances. She and Danny had always been tight, despite their age difference. Yet Danny now looked and listened to Halo as if the man could do no wrong. No one was perfect, Alyn knew from experience. She'd been dumped by a lover who'd promised her the world. Further deceived by a close friend. She was not a good judge of character. She refused to let Halo charm her, as he had her brother and mother. They'd warmed to him immediately.

She had liked him better as Harold.

Alyn kept her eye on him as she took a seat between Danny and her mom. Halo stared openly back at her while Martha circled the table, pouring orange juice and coffee, then cutting the cinnamon coffee cake. She gave Halo a large piece. He turned his full attention to the morning treat. The Rogue took big bites. Ate hungrily. He must have missed breakfast. He held his plate out for seconds before Alyn was halfway through her own slice.

Danny imitated Halo, stuffing his mouth. Crumbs flecked his lips, and he choked. Halo thumped him on the back, then passed him a glass of orange juice. “Wash it down,” he said.

Her brother drank deeply. He looked sheepish with his second bite. Much smaller this time.

“Better?” Halo asked him.

Danny nodded. “I could go for a second piece.” He wanted to keep up with Halo.

His mother raised an eyebrow. “You haven't finished your first.” Still, she cut him a small square. Danny was all smiles.

Alyn dabbed her forefinger along the edge of the plate, collecting the last of the cinnamon sugar. She licked her fingertip, happened to glance up, and found Halo's gaze on her. His green eyes were as dark as the leaf on an angel face rose. Yet his expression was anything but angelic.

Wicked came to mind. As did indecent. The slight curve of his lip was a turn-on. His dimples flashed. His look alone promised racing hearts, sweat-slick bodies, and tangled sheets. Orgasms. He scared her breathless.

Self-conscious of the tightening of her nipples and the sweet heat between her thighs, she looked away. Concentrated on Danny instead. “Wipe your mouth.” There were more crumbs on his face than coffee cake in his mouth.

He rolled his eyes, swiped a napkin. He missed a few crumbs. Alyn brushed them off his cheek with her thumb. Danny pulled a face.

Martha took a sip of her coffee, and requested, “Tell us about spring training, Halo.”

Halo leaned back on his chair, tilting on two legs. He crossed his arms over his chest. Said, “The Rogues have a new facility in Barefoot William. Nice clubhouse—”

Danny bounced on his seat, all energy and excitement. “Will I get to see your locker?”

Halo nodded. “That can be arranged. We'll schedule a tour before practice starts. I'll take you out on the playing field—”

“Can I run the bases?” The boy's eyes were round, hopeful. “Slide into home?”

“Your cast,” reminded his mother. “No sliding.”

“What about the batting cages?” Danny wanted to know.

Halo's brow creased. “A one-handed hitter?”

“I'd manage,” Danny reassured him. “I'd be real careful. Swear.”

Halo gave it some thought. “The speed on the ball machine could be regulated. Maybe use wiffle balls instead of regulation baseballs,” he added, tongue in cheek.

“Wiffle?” Danny gaped. His disappointment was evident. “I want fastballs. Power alley. I can burn 'em.”

Halo ruffled the boy's hair. “We'll see when the time comes. I don't want you to reinjure your arm.”

Danny sat up straighter, and assured him, “I'm getting stronger every day. My cast won't interfere with our fun.”

“The beachside town has a great boardwalk, carnival rides, and an amusement arcade. There's something to do twenty-four-seven.”

Danny's eyes widened. “I never have to sleep.”

Halo put his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Even ballplayers catch a few hours each night.”

Very few hours, Alyn imagined. Bars, women, sex. Halo wouldn't lack for entertainment.

“We'll be there for ten whole days.” Clearly, it sounded like forever to Danny. He turned to Halo. “Can Mommy and Alyn come, too?”

“Only one of us,” Alyn was quick to say. “Mom should chaperone.”

“Me?” Surprise showed on Martha's face. “I was thinking you, Alyn.”

“You go, Mom,” she insisted. “When was the last time you had a vacation?”

Her mother looked thoughtful. “It's been a few years.”

“A lot of years,” Alyn reminded her. “Not since Danny was born.”

Martha poured herself another cup of coffee. “I'm content at home. Truly, I am.”

“You'd make me happy if you went with Danny.” Alyn said, and meant it.

Halo's iPhone rang.
Dun dun da-da da-da
, the great white shark tone was realistic. Scary.

“
Jaws
?” asked Danny.

“No, Jillian Mac-Cates,” Halo said. “She's the team's community liaison. Nice enough, when she's not trying to take a bite out of me.”

“Does she bite hard?” From Danny.

“Hardest when I'm running late or not paying attention to her.”

“That happens how often?” Alyn wondered aloud, certain it was a regular occurrence.

“Often enough.” Halo was truthful. He tapped the screen. “She has travel details. Hold on.” He dropped the chair back on four legs, rose, and took the call in the mirrored hallway.

Alyn was sitting closest to the hall, and she could hear parts of his conversation.

“Boy, age eight.” Pause, followed by a clearing of his throat. “Three instead of two.” Indistinguishable mumbling. “Give me a break.” Some male finagling. “An alternative. . .” Next, “I'll take care of it.” His voice lowered even more. “I need you to do me a favor. . . .”

He returned to the kitchen shortly thereafter. His expression was unreadable.

Danny hopped off his chair, and met Halo by the refrigerator. Curiosity and anticipation had him bouncing on his toes. “My mommy or my sister? Who gets to go?” he rushed to ask. “When do we leave? Are we flying? I've never been on an airplane.”

Alyn sat very still. If truth be told, she would've loved to make the trip. However, her mother was a priority. She was still grieving her husband's death. She would for a long time to come. Alyn hoped the sunshine would lift her spirits. No one deserved it more.

She glanced at Halo, who was eyeing her. Or evaluating her, she thought. His brow was creased and his lips were pursed. She had no idea why. He went on to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, then rub the back of his neck before saying, “All three of you can come to spring training.”

Danny whooped, pumped his good arm.

Grateful, Martha's eyes watered; her smile was soft.

Alyn contemplated his decision. When they'd spoken privately in the living room, Halo had indicated Danny and a chaperone would travel to Florida. Two people only. Yet now the entire family was headed south. How had he managed that?

He hadn't taken her dog into account. “I can't leave Quigley,” she said.

Danny jumped in with, “Cadbury and Merlin would have to come, too.”

Halo looked uneasy. “They are . . . ?”

“My bunny and goldfish,” her brother was quick to say.

One corner of Halo's mouth tightened. Alyn figured he was getting in deeper than he'd expected with the trip. Family travel became a whole different ballgame with pets included. She cut him some slack. Gave him room to back out. “No worries. I'll stay behind, feed Cads and Merlin.”

Halo shook his head. “I want you with us,” ended their debate. He then took a moment and considered their options. “Airline won't accept a bunny or fish. So . . .”

“So . . .” Danny echoed him.

“How do you feel about a road trip?” was his solution.

Alyn did her best not to laugh out loud. Did this hotshot ballplayer have any idea what he was getting himself into? What it would be like traveling with three people he barely knew along with their pets?

A handicapped dog was very hands-on.

An eight-year-old boy couldn't sit still for more than a few hours at a time.

Her mother mapped out every rest stop.

His patience would be tested.

Four

L
andon Kane, third baseman for the Richmond Rogues, impatiently paced the southern end of the Barefoot William boardwalk. “Where the hell is Halo?” he asked two of his teammates who leaned negligently against the blue metal railing that separated the boardwalk from the beach.

Left fielder Joe “Zoo” Zooker and pitcher Will Ridgeway were slow to respond. They were more interested in the bikinied babes who strolled the shoreline, and those stretched out on beach loungers, lying facedown with their tops untied. Their slender backs and thonged butt cheeks glistened with suntan oil. Their supple sun-warmed skin seduced a man. It was a pretty sight.

The ladies on the boardwalk were hot, too. Their side glances and sexy smiles showed a willingness to party. And so much more. A female with cropped dark hair, enormous sunglasses, and wearing a one-piece cutout swimsuit accidentally bumped into Landon. The brush of her full breast and curvy hip was an open invitation. He drew a breath; her scent was tropical fruit. Nice. He winked at her. She winked back. But he didn't pursue her. He had more important things on his mind. The woman sighed, walked on.

Zoo noticed their exchange. “Babe sent out her bat signal,” he said.

“You should've gotten her number,” agreed Will. “Saved her for later.”

Land exhaled slowly. His teammates thought him fast and easy when it came to the ladies. And that he got laid often. That wasn't the case, even though he gave that impression. He'd lost interest in random sex. Quickies were no longer satisfying. Physical friction was fleeting.

He preferred romance. Flirting and foreplay. Long kisses. Lingering touches. Learning each other's bodies. The slow burn. Anticipation was a turn-on. The steadiness and growth of a relationship appealed to him most. He was always on the lookout for that special someone. She was out there. Somewhere. He would find her. Someday. When the time was right. Somehow.

His teammates would laugh their asses off if they knew the number of dates he'd left at the front door with only a hug or good-night kiss. Women frowned, pouted, and begged him to stay. Still, he left. Not wanting to lead anyone on. Honesty was important to him.

Partying with his buddies remained a big part of his life. The ballplayers were like brothers from different mothers. They'd planned a blowout tonight before the start of spring training. Blue Coconut and Lusty Oyster called their names. As did Boner's, a bar thirty miles north, outside the city limits, where shots were a buck and beer kegs ran free after two a.m. It was the last stop of the night for most, and many slept facedown on the bar, waking with a hangover. Good times.

The men had a few hours before their first drink. It was late afternoon, and tourists and townies enjoyed the moderate temperature and picturesque Gulf. The sky was a pale blue, almost white. The seagulls merged with low-hanging clouds. Fishermen collected on the pier. The water below glistened. Clear and turquoise. Waves rolled lazily onto the sugar sand.

The multicolored doors of the connected beachside shops were open, welcoming the stirring breeze and a breath of salt air. Food kiosks were numerous. Mobile metal carts served snacks and meals. He was tempted to order a basket of chili fries. But decided against it. He seldom ate between meals. He'd save room for supper.

Landon tugged his Rogues baseball cap low on his brow, protecting his eyes from the glare of the sun. He drew his Android Smartphone from the pocket of his khaki cargo shorts, then scrolled the texts from Halo. They made little sense. “It's Saturday. He's five fucking days late. No reason.”

“He'll show,” Zoo finally said. “He probably hooked up.”

Land shook his head. “No hooks. Messages have him driving randomly. He's on and off Interstate 95. Taking in the sights.”

Will scratched his chin. “Sounds like a road trip.”

“Halo doesn't road trip.” Landon was concerned. “He had one planned stop in Atlanta to see his pilot, then straight here.”

Zoo snorted. “You're such a mom.”

“You're a dick,” Land growled. The Halo behind the texts wasn't the Halo that Landon knew. The two of them were close. People seldom saw one man without the other. They had each other's backs. No matter the circumstance or situation. If Halo got in trouble, Landon shouldered half the blame. They competed against each other during the season: hits, runs, errors. Then went on to celebrate their individual successes.

Zoo lowered his bronze lens Maui Jims, and side-eyed a blonde in a tight tank top and a tiny bikini bottom. She eyed him, too, checking out his T-shirt. She slowed, curled a finger in the cotton of his collar, and mouthed, “Top,” as she passed him.

Zoo grinned. His navy tee was scripted with
Top or Bottom?
More than one woman had relayed her preference. He shoved his shades back up his nose. Pushing off the railing, he crossed to Landon. Will followed. They looked over Land's shoulder. “Run through Halo's texts,” said Zoo.

Land skimmed back to the first post. He read, “ ‘On my way.' That was sent early Tuesday morning as he left Richmond. I asked him to let me know when he got to Atlanta. Instead he responded with: ‘Stopping in Smithfield, North Carolina. Shadowhawk.'”

“What's ‘Shadowhawk'?” asked Zoo.

Landon had downloaded the website. “A replica of Wild Bill's Western town. Built by a retired actor, in his own backyard.”

“A movie set, huh?” That interested Zoo. “Halo as a gunslinger, downing shots of whiskey in the saloon? Yeah, I can see it.”

Will craned his neck, claimed the next text. “ ‘Reached South of the Border.'” He rubbed his forehead. “I've been there. Rest stop and roadside attraction south of the North Carolina border. Adobe architecture and neon signs. Small amusement park, a mascot named Pedro, and a shitload of Mexican trinkets.”

A further message confused them even more. “‘Locating a pet-friendly hotel.'”

Will frowned. “Halo doesn't have a pet.”

“Not unless he adopted a dog during off-season,” said Zoo.

“He would've told me.” Of that Landon was certain.

The men took turns reviewing the posts. “ ‘Baseball water tower in Charlotte, South Carolina,'” Land continued. “Can't believe that would hold his interest.”

Will rolled his eyes. “‘UFO Welcome Station, Bowman, SC.'”

“‘Bee City, Town of Beehives, Cottageville, SC. Stung in the parking lot.'” Zoo grunted. “Bet that pissed Halo off.”

“‘Submarine on Land, St. Mary's Georgia,'” Land added. “‘
USS
George Bancroft.'”

“He attached a photo,” Will noted. “A full-sized Navy sub on display, as if it's surfacing out of the grass. Pretty cool.”

The men scanned the next twelve texts in silence. “I don't get it,” said Will. “Halo's all over the map. Driving south, then east, then west.”

Zoo rolled his shoulders, straightened. He was about to say something, but got sidetracked by a pair of twins. Redheads in skimpy sundresses and stiletto sandals. They were all legs. Swaying hips. And would double Zoo's pleasure, Landon thought.

Will cleared his throat, and Zoo returned his attention to the pitcher. “My sister-in-law used the Roadside America app when she traveled with her children from Texas to Maine to visit their grandparents. The stops broke up the monotony. I swear Halo is using the same app.”

“But why?” Landon questioned. “I've never known him to play tourist. Not ever. He's fast-track. Getting to his destination as quickly as possible.”

Zoo tapped the edge of Landon's smartphone with his finger. “Last night he slept in the Live Oak Villa Treehouse on St. Simon's Island, Georgia. This morning he crossed into Florida, making stops at Sarasota's Jungle Garden and Big Daddy Garlits Museum of Drag Racing in Ocala.”

Landon's jaw worked. The museum might interest his friend, but he couldn't picture Halo sitting through a bird show with a bike-riding parrot. He sent one final text to his buddy. “
Get your ass here.”

He was about to pocket his phone when Halo answered. “
My ass arrives in two hours. Barefoot Inn.”

“Barefoot Inn?” Land puzzled. “The bed-and-breakfast reserved for the winners of the spring training contest.”

“Still makes no sense,” said Will. “Unless the person joining Halo planned to check in early. Jillian sent out itineraries. We're to meet our guests at the airport on Sunday. There's a welcome bonfire at twilight near the pier.”

Zoo shrugged. “Whatever. He's a big boy. He'll get here.”

A nudge on Landon's right, and a curvy brunette slipped between him and Will, and faced Zoo. An asymmetrical haircut flirted with her exotic features. She wore a belly shirt tucked beneath her boobs. Her wraparound skirt was slit over one thigh. Lady was bold in her attention. She traced a navy fingernail over
Top or Bottom?
on his T-shirt. Then licked her lips, and landed him with, “Both of us facing the TV.”

Zoo threw back his head and laughed. He took her hand in his, said, “I'm Zoo.”

“I know. I'm Nikki.”

“Where to, sweetheart?”

“Wherever you're going.”

“I have no immediate plans.”

She hooked her arm through his. “I was headed to Goody Gumdrops, the penny candy store.” She dipped two fingers in her cleavage. Produced a dollar. “I need some sugar. Root beer barrels, snow caps, and blow pops.”

Blow pops made Zoo grin. Will, too. Their thoughts were on sex. Swirling tongues and sucking. Zoo jingled the change in his pants pocket. “I like pop rocks.”

Her eyes shone. “I bet you do.”

“We're gone.” Zoo gave Landon and Will his back.

“That's the last we'll see of him tonight,” said Will.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Landon turned off his smartphone, pocketed it. “Guys' night out before spring training is tradition. Zoo may tap her early, but he'll catch up with us later.”

“Twenty bucks says he's more into blow pops than his bros.”

“You're on. But make it fifty. I'm sure he'll show.”

“I'll take that bet, and raise you another fifty,” Will said. “Bar where Zoo will walk through the door?”

“Lusty Oyster.”

“A final hundred on what time.”

Landon gave it some thought. “Around eleven. Give or take a few minutes.”

“I'll give him until midnight, but it won't matter. We won't see Zoo again until the bonfire. He'd get fined if he doesn't make an appearance with his contest winner. It's a team event.”

“Who did Zoo choose?” Land wondered.

Will told him. “Coach Holloway, as the man prefers to be called. He's a retired physical education teacher.”

“How about you, dude?”

Will was solemn. Respectful. “Private Andrew Davidson. Army. Iraq. He was on patrol, enemy fire, and was severely wounded. His right arm was amputated. His baseball throwing arm. His sister sent in the entry. Praising her brother's love for his country and major league baseball. Andrew continues to play slow-pitch on a veteran team. The players have disabilities.”

Landon approved. “Davidson was a good choice.”

“Your winner?” Will asked.

“Eleanor Norris. She's ninety.”

“In good health?”

“She uses a cane, but otherwise she still kicks ass, or so she says.”

“She said ‘kick ass'?”

“Lady is feisty,” said Land. “Florida and baseball are on her bucket list. She can scratch off both next week.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck. “Wonder who Halo chose?”

“Hopefully, someone appropriate.”

“I'm guessing a female fan sent him an X-rated letter along with a nude photo. Halo is drawn to the visual.”

Land gambled once again. “A fifty says he did right by the team and his winner is deserving.”

“I'll match your fifty. I'm betting double-D's.”

“We'll see.”

Will turned back toward the beach. He shaded his eyes with his hand. “Oh, man. Woman in the white tank top and jogger pants at water's edge.”

Landon tipped up the bill on his baseball cap, squinted against the sun. “Hard body. Smooth stride.”

Will rolled his tongue inside his cheek. “I haven't jogged today.”

“You don't jog any day.”

“Good time to start.”

“Go for it.”

Will gave him a thumbs-up. The six-foot-six pitcher took off running. He didn't look like a jogger. He'd only recently arrived on the boardwalk, following a pitchers and catchers meeting at the stadium. There'd been early press coverage. Photo ops. He looked decent, in a cream-colored polo and tan chinos. Wingtips. He'd need to pace himself in order to catch the woman. She was sleek. Into performance. Perhaps a long-distance runner. Chances were good that she'd find Will passed out on the sand on her return.

Landon glanced at his watch. Hours to kill. What to do? His buddies were getting lucky. He was on his own, biding his time. He stood outside Molly Malone's Diner, at the curb of the Center Street crosswalk. The crosswalk connected two adjoining sides of the boardwalk. Saunders Shores stretched south. Barefoot William north. They differed greatly.

Barefoot William was as honky-tonk as the Shores was high-end. Couture, gourmet dining, and a five-star hotel claimed the southern boundaries. Waterfront mansions welcomed the rich and retired. Yachts the size of cruise ships lined the waterways. Private airstrips replaced commercial travel. The affluent were a community unto themselves.
Forbes
listed Saunders Shores as the wealthiest resort community in the country.