The Truth About Tara (15 page)

“Jack!” she called, waving wildly. “Are you here to play?”

He imagined lifting his arm to serve a volleyball and the shoulder gave another throb.

“To watch,” he called back, his eyes glued to Tara. She nodded in greeting, her teeth flashing in the rapidly fading daylight.

A smile was a good start. She’d given him a few of them today at camp, too. He interpreted the smiles to mean she didn’t regret their kiss Saturday night. He was increasingly certain he’d been right to ask if she wanted to stop.

When they made love, he wanted her to be sure.

“Is that your husband, Mary Dee?” asked a skinny teammate who would be the next server.

“No, sir,” Mary Dee said. “Jack’s here for Tara, not me.”

“I heard that, Tara. He’ll make you nervous,” Butch called from the other side of the net in a teasing singsong voice.

“You wish!” Mary Dee hollered.

Jack retraced his steps, sitting down at the bottom of the wooden stairs so he wasn’t directly in Tara’s line of vision. Nerves could do funny things to an athlete. He’d seen baseball players who should have been stars crumble when the going got tough.

The game resumed, with Tara spiking the ball with precision whenever it was within reach. The only snag her teammates ran into was getting the ball to her. When she touched it, whether from the back line or the front, her team usually got the point. Eventually they won the game.

Tara’s teammates gathered around her when it was over, exchanging high fives. “MVP! MVP!” Mary Dee chanted.

Tara slung an arm around her friend. “Only because you set me up.”

“Many can be set up,” Mary Dee said. “Only a few can dominate a game.”

“I hardly dominated,” Tara said.

Jack got to his feet and approached the two women, not only impressed with the way Tara had played. Proud, too. Mary Dee gestured to him.

“Settle this for us, Jack,” Mary Dee said. “Did Tara dominate or didn’t she?”

“Tara dominated,” he answered.

“Told you so.” Mary Dee smiled at Jack, displaying a charming gap between her front teeth. “You should take Tara out for a drink at O’Malley’s.”

“Don’t pay attention to my friend,” Tara told Jack. “She thinks it’s her duty to arrange my social life.”

“Who can’t use a little help from their friends?” Mary Dee shot back. “You are going to take her out, right, Jack?”

“I was about to ask before you beat me to it.” A corner of Jack’s mouth rose. “But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Doesn’t the whole group go out?”

“We used to, back when most of us were single,” Mary Dee said. “Now it’s hit or miss. Tonight’s a miss. Listen, I’ve gotta run.”

Mary Dee hugged Tara, hanging on to her for an extra few seconds. “Do yourself a favor and go out with the man, Tara,” she whispered into her friend’s ear, loudly enough that Jack heard. To Jack, she said, “Hope I’ll be seeing a lot more of you, Jack.”

“You, too,” Jack said.

Mary Dee picked up her flip-flops and took off through the sand, hurrying to catch up to one of her teammates. The rest of the crowd had also dispersed, leaving Jack and Tara alone on the beach.

“Well, that sure was embarrassing,” Tara said, brushing back some stray hairs that had come loose from her ponytail. “Please don’t feel obligated to take me out.”

“Okay.” Jack rubbed his chin. “Then how do you feel about coming back to my place to see my etchings?”

Amusement played about her lips. “You have etchings?”

“I might,” he said slowly. “Except I’m not really sure what etchings are.”

“Maybe another time,” Tara said, laughing. Even in the dim light he could see the sparkle that came into her eyes. “On second thought, I believe I will take you up on that drink.”

He felt his face split into a wide smile. “Chalk one up for the good guys.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, pal. It’s only a drink.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He reached out and touched her cheek, mostly because he couldn’t stop himself. “But when I was smiling, I was thinking about the ‘maybe another time.’ I really like the sound of that maybe.”

She let him keep his hand exactly where it was and smiled, too. “It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?”

He elevated his eyebrows. “Come to my place one day and you’ll find out.”

“C’mon, let’s go to O’Malley’s.” She started for the wooden walkway, probably thinking she’d put an end to the subject. She didn’t know him very well yet. Once she did, she’d discover he finished what he started, even if it was only a conversation.

He fell into step beside her. “I was serious about the invitation.”

“Good.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Because I was serious about the maybe.”

This time Jack kept the smile to himself. Something had shifted in their relationship since Saturday. Whatever had caused the shift wasn’t important.

The important thing was that he was finally making progress with Tara.

* * *

T
ARA
SAT
ACROSS
FROM
Jack a short time later in a booth at O’Malley’s, trying not to stare at him. Even though the dinner hour was over, the pub was doing a fair bit of business. Jack, however, was by far the most interesting customer.

Of course, he’d also held that distinction Friday night when the place was packed.

What a difference a few days made. Now that she knew for certain that she wasn’t Hayley Cooper, she could finally stop viewing him as a threat and get to know him as a man.

A man who was intensely appealing.

Goose bumps broke out on her arms even though she’d thrown a light athletic jacket over her sleeveless top. Thinking about how appealing Jack was reminded Tara that Mary Dee had urged her once to describe what she was looking for in a man.

Integrity. Kindness. A sense of humor. A way with kids. An active lifestyle.

Jack had all those traits and more wrapped up in a sexy six-foot-two package. She liked the way he looked, too, from his square chin to his chocolate-brown eyes to the thick hair that sprang back from his widow’s peak.

She also liked that he didn’t wear his clothes tight to show off his lean, muscular build and his broad shoulders. She narrowed her eyes. Was one of his shoulders drooping?

“Did you have the surgery on your right shoulder?” she asked.

“Surgeries,” he corrected. “Two of them. Both on the right shoulder. Why?”

“You’re holding the shoulder funny,” she said. “Like it hurts.”

“You know what they say.” Both corners of his mouth rose, then fell. “No pain, no gain.”

“That saying doesn’t refer to shoulder surgeries. It’s about working out,” Tara said. “What exactly happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“It’s a long story,” he said.

She indicated their full mugs of beer. They’d ordered a couple of drafts at the bar, where she greeted some people she knew, and carried them to the booth in the dining room. “I drink slowly, so I’ve got time.”

“Where do you want me to start?” he said.

“How about the first shoulder surgery?”

“That would have been my third year of pro ball,” he said. “I didn’t get drafted until I finished college. Third round by the Cincinnati Kings. I was progressing through the minor league ranks pretty well, even got a call-up to the bigs one September and an invitation the next season to spring training. That’s when the doctor ordered an MRI of my sore shoulder and we found out I had a torn rotator cuff. So I had my first surgery.”

“What went wrong?” she asked.

“At first, nothing. I worked myself into shape and two years later I was back at spring training with a real chance to make the team. They decided they wanted to take a longer look at me and sent me back to the minors. That’s when I reinjured the shoulder and had to go under the knife again.” He stared down at the beer before gazing back up at her. He looked as if he was trying to smile, but he didn’t manage it. “The Kings cut me loose.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost five years ago,” he said. “But I didn’t give up. I took a lot longer rehabbing the shoulder this time, then played for an unaffiliated team before getting signed by the Carolina Stars.”

“I’ve heard of the Stars,” Tara said. “Weren’t they an expansion team in the major leagues a few years back?”

He nodded. “That’s probably why they took a chance on me. The snag was that I’d be strictly a relief pitcher.”

“Did it work out?”

“Surprisingly well,” he said. “I moved from A ball to AA to AAA, then was called up in September. And last year I made it to the show. On opening day, I was on the Carolina Stars roster.”

She leaned forward, eager to hear the rest of the story. The couple in the booth closest to them got up to leave, giving them some privacy. “Did you get into any games?”

“One,” he said. “In that game, I tried to tag a runner out at first base and broke my collarbone in the collision.”

“Your collarbone? I thought the problem was with your shoulder.”

“It is,” he said. “The collarbone healed, but the soreness remained. I didn’t do well in spring training this season and got sent back to AA ball. The problem wouldn’t go away. This time the team doctor figured out I had a torn labrum.”

Tara winced. Volleyball players used the same overhead motion as pitchers to spike and serve. One of the players on her high school team had suffered a similar injury to the one Jack described, then had given up the sport entirely.

“A torn labrum doesn’t regenerate, does it?” she asked.

“I’ve come back from injury before. I can do it again,” he said with a stubborn tilt to his chin. She noticed that he didn’t answer the question.

“Will you have a third surgery?”

“No. There’s a school of thought that physical therapy is better than surgery for torn labrums. That’s why I hired Art Goodnight. I’m working on strengthening the other muscles in my shoulder.”

Something about the story seemed off. “And the Carolina Stars’ doctor—he thinks you can come back from this and pitch again?”

“That’s what
I
think,” Jack said. “The Stars cut me, too.”

Tara had formed the impression that he had a job in baseball waiting for him once his rehabilitation was over. She couldn’t have been more wrong. “It sounds like a long shot.”

“I’ve beaten the odds before,” he said. “I’ll do it again.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” she said.

“I have to be,” he said. “Baseball’s my life.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “There’s more going on in your life than that. I know you work at the Lexington Sportsplex.”

He shifted in his seat. “I fill time at the sportsplex between baseball seasons.”

“Fill time doing what?” she asked. “It’s an indoor sports facility, right?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “It’s not a bad job. I do anything that needs doing, but mostly I help supervise the running of the indoor leagues.”

“That sounds like fun,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind doing that.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be playing volleyball?” he asked.

“Are we back to that again?” She shrugged. “I’ve already told you. There’s more to life than playing sports.”

“Tara!” Mark Ames, a guy she’d dated before he moved out of the area, appeared as if out of nowhere. He approached them with a giant grin on his face. “I knew stopping by the pub tonight was a good idea. You look more beautiful than ever.”

Mark had always been effusive with his compliments, which was probably one of the reasons Tara had dated him. His good looks hadn’t hurt. He bore a vague resemblance to a young Brad Pitt.

“Mark! What a surprise!” Tara said. “Are you visiting your parents?”

“Haven’t you heard?” he asked. “I’m back for good. Dad’s getting up there in years, so I’m going into business with him.”

Mark’s father owned a wholesale seafood business. Before Mark had moved to New York City to work for a friend’s sightseeing company, Mark had vowed never to work in the seafood business. Now wasn’t the time to bring that up, though. The two men were sizing each other up, like boxers before a fight.

“Mark, this is Jack DiMarco,” Tara said. “Jack, Mark Ames.”

Jack stuck out a hand first. “Nice to meet you.”

Mark hesitated only slightly before taking it. “Likewise. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised Tara is seeing somebody.”

Tara waited for Jack to correct him. The pause lengthened until it became obvious he didn’t intend to.

“What do you do, Jack?” Mark asked.

“I’m a pro baseball player,” Jack said.

Mark screwed up his forehead. “I didn’t know the Eastern Shore had a pro team.”

“It doesn’t,” Tara cut in. “Jack last played for the Carolina Stars. He’s here rehabbing his pitching shoulder.”

“So you’re a tourist.” Mark sounded pleased by his conclusion. “How long will you be here, Jack?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jack said.

“Not long, then,” Mark said, nodding slowly. “Good to know.”

Mark’s comments were getting weirder by the second. Although they’d had some good times, things had never been serious between Tara and Mark. When he moved away, she’d been only mildly disappointed.

“How about you, Mark?” Tara asked. “Is this a temporary move? Or will you settle down here?”

“I’m staying. I’ll give you a call sometime. We can get together so I can tell you all about it.” He gestured in the direction of the bar. “I’m here with a friend, so I should go. Catch up with you later.”

Mark nodded at Jack, who returned the gesture. Jack watched the other man leave before bringing his attention back to her.

“Old boyfriend?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend exactly but we did go out a few times before he moved to New York City,” she said. “A friend of his owns a boat tour company and asked Mark to be one of his boat captains. He must have gotten tired of it.”

Jack twisted his beer mug left and right and watched the amber liquid slosh before raising his eyes. “Should I be worried about him?”

She could pretend not to know what he was talking about. Now that she’d verified she wasn’t Hayley Cooper, however, there wasn’t any need.

She kept her eyes trained on his and shook her head. “No.”