The Real Deal Page 14

  “What do you mean?”

  He looked at her then, and it wasn’t sadness in his eyes, it was pain. Real and sharp. “I’m scared. I’m scared for him, but mostly for my own selfish ass. I didn’t— I told you, I’ve been into baseball my whole life. Every waking minute. Except for, you know, the whole girl thing in high school, but damn it, I was one of those kids. I didn’t drink or smoke or stay out after curfew. I wouldn’t even touch a girl on the night before a game. My team went to the state championships. There was talk of me getting in the minors right after high school, but my folks put their foot down. I had to go to college.

  “They were afraid for me. What if I couldn’t cut it in the big leagues? What if I got injured? They wanted me to have something. Something real.”

  “But you did cut it. You won the World Series.”

  “Yeah, I did. But it could all end tomorrow. Just like it did for Billy. Then what?”

  “Then you regroup. Figure out what else you’d like to do.”

  He grunted, shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “All I am is baseball, Emily. It’s all I’ve ever done. I tried to do some endorsements, and eventually they’ve worked out, but I’m crap in front of a microphone and worse in front of a camera. I’m still as a board, and frankly, I hate it. I don’t want to be a sportscaster. I might be able to coach, but those jobs don’t come by so often. At least, not in the majors.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to be in the majors. I’ve seen you around all those kids, you know. You’re awfully good with them.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “What?”

  He looked at her again, but just as quickly looked away. “I was never good in school. My mind was always somewhere else. If I hadn’t been given my chance after my first year, I’d have probably flunked out of college, anyway.”

  “You can’t tell me you’re not bright. I know better.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not stupid. But I’m no Emily.”

  “You mean you’re not an egghead?”

  He grinned at that one. “You’re really smart, Em. You could be anything, and you know it.”

  “And yet I sit at home, in ratty T-shirts, and live in words.”

  “But you love it.”

  “I imagine, if pressed, I could find something else to love. And so could you.”

  “You know, when I’m out there—on the mound—I know I can get the job done. I have my slumps, everyone does, but even when I can’t throw for shit, I know I’ve got it in me. It’s just a matter of time and patience and practice. But the talent, it’s real, and it’s in me.”

  “I’m sure you have many talents.”

  “I only know one thing. I need to play ball. I need to do everything in my power to stay in shape, to keep my mind on the game, to let nothing and no one get in the way. Because if I lose the game…”

  He looked to his right, signaled a lane change. “You know what?” he said. “I’m hungry. What do you say we get off this highway and find ourselves something to eat.”

  Okay. End of discussion. But maybe, later, when they were in Vermont, he’d open up to her again. She’d love nothing more than to encourage him, to let him see he had so much to offer. But she’d leave the subject now. Do her best to make him laugh. Too bad they weren’t somewhere private where she knew exactly how to distract him.

  As they took the exit ramp, she watched the signs go by, the trees whip past. This was all going to end. Even though she’d known it was just a vacation fling, there must have been some hope in her for something more. Her disappointment ran deep. But then, why bother to hope? How could she possibly be more than a fling to a man as famous as Nick? The thought of facing his fans and the press on a regular basis terrified her. Or maybe it was just living a real life that did that.

  They stopped at a nice-looking diner, but it was packed. They decided to get something to go, and just to save them both the trouble, she ran in for the order.

  As soon as she climbed back in the SUV and he started the engine, her cell rang.

  Totally her fault. She should have made her calls when she’d ducked into the bathroom. She flipped her phone open, noted it was Pam and greeted her sister with, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh, good, you haven’t fallen off the face of the earth,” Pam said, and then pulled away from the phone and announced, “Hey, everybody, she’s still alive.”

  Pam’s sarcasm normally didn’t faze Emily. Today she wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “Amazing how snarky you get when there’s no one there to cook your turkey, bake your pumpkin pies and send home leftovers so you don’t have to make dinner for two more nights.”

  After a moment of startled silence, her sister laughed. “Well, since Mom refused to do dinner, and you know Denise and I don’t have a clue how to make a turkey or pies, we ordered the whole shebang from Sidney’s deli.”

  “And? How is it?”

  “We don’t know yet. We’re going to eat at around three.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot we’re an hour ahead here.”

  “We?”

  Emily shifted uncomfortably and glanced over at Nick, who was pulling into an empty section of the parking lot so they could eat in peace. “What?”

  “You said ‘we.’”

  “It’s a figure of speech.” She made a dismissive sound she knew wouldn’t fool her sister for a second. When it came to sticking her nose into other people’s business, Pam was like a bloodhound. God forbid Emily or her mother could keep one thing private. Anyway, this was not a conversation she was going to have with Nick listening.

  “Oh, wow.” Pam laughed gleefully.

  “Good grief. How many martinis have you had?”

  “Don’t even…I know that tone of voice. Wait a minute. Hey, Denise, get over here and listen with me. She met somebody. Of course I mean a man.” After a brief silence, Pam said, “It is a man, right? I mean, you’re not—”

  “You’re such an ass.” In the background, Emily heard her nieces chattering in overly excited voices, asking about Aunt Emily. Where she was. Who she was with. Great. Let’s get everybody involved.

  “Well, nowadays, who knows? Okay,” Pam said. “Denise is here next to me. We want details.”

  “Can we not make a big deal out of this?” The words had barely left her lips when it struck her all over again. Holy crap. They were talking about Nick Corrigan. Pam possibly wouldn’t recognize his name, but Denise definitely would. Even so, when Pam did get who he was, her jaw would hit the friggin’ floor.

  Both of Emily’s brothers-in-law loved baseball and would totally flip. She thought Mark might even be a Knights fan. She never surprised her family, so this was as sweet as could be. They didn’t have to know it would be over in a few days. That she’d probably never see Nick again.

  “Come on.” It was Denise this time. “Spill. We want to hear everything.”

  Emily’s chest tightened. She blinked at Nick. He was trying his best to act as if he wasn’t listening. As if he had a choice. She smiled at the way one stubborn lock defied his short hair and swept his forehead. Everything inside of her softened. To her, he wasn’t Nicky Corrigan, every Knights’ fan’s hero. He was her friend, her lover, her awakening. He made her feel alive, funny, sexy. To tell anyone about him would cheapen the experience.

  Her heart caught knowing that after Sunday she would never see him again. Oh, maybe from a distance, when she got up the nerve to go to a Knights game and sat way up in the bleachers. But they both knew what this week was about…a blip in their lives, holding no more meaning than a truly great vacation that you sometimes remembered in the middle of a gray winter day, a marker of a specific time and place that would fade, as all things, with time.

  Except it wouldn’t be that way for her. She’d never forget Nick, or the way he kissed her, how he’d gently pushed away the hair from her face and gazed into her eyes as he’d slipped inside of her. But as mu
ch as she liked him in bed, she liked him more for his honesty. For his willingness to tell her his truth.

  “Emily?” Pam’s impatience roused her. “Tell us about him.”

  She couldn’t. They’d want to know too much. “He’s just a guy, okay?” She glanced over at him, though he didn’t bat an eye. Of course, she couldn’t see him all that well. “A really nice guy.”

  Nick kept his eyes straight ahead. And smiled.

  14

  AT FOUR-THIRTY, NICK PULLED the SUV into the crowded parking lot of the mammoth resort where his family was staying. By the time he found a vacant spot five minutes later, he was tempted to get back on the highway and forget the whole thing. He loved his family, and would ordinarily be excited to see them, but glancing over at Emily, sound asleep in the passenger seat, her lips slightly parted, her thick dark lashes sweeping her soft pink cheeks, he realized that he didn’t want to share her.

  They only had three more days together before she had to leave. Did he really want to spend half that time around other people, even his family? What the hell had he been thinking? He could’ve flown home after the holidays, after they’d returned from their trip, hung out around the house with his parents, taken them to nice dinners, tossed a few balls for his nephews. Seeing them didn’t have to be about the holidays. They already thought Thanksgiving was a wash.

  It wasn’t too late.

  They didn’t know he was here. His plan was to call them as soon as he and Emily arrived, pretend he was making his normal holiday call, casually find out where they were hanging out and then show up in person and surprise them.

  Although it hadn’t actively snowed during the drive, an hour ago the scenery had drastically changed. Pristine white snow covered the mountains and dripped from branches of giant pines. Fortunately, the roads had been plowed and well-maintained, but everywhere else you looked was a blanket of perfect, unblemished white, so different from the gray sludge of the city. He’d almost woken Emily, but hadn’t the heart because she’d looked so peaceful.

  He thought about what he’d told her. How she’d held his hand, listened. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt comfortable enough with a woman to really talk. It shocked him that he’d bared so much. Maybe because she would be leaving soon? Somehow, he didn’t think so. He felt a connection with her. She made him feel safe.

  There weren’t many people who did anymore. He and Billy could talk, at least they used to be able to. Say the important stuff—fears, hopes, private things. But since the accident, Nick had pulled back. Surrounded by people, he’d never felt as alone as he had these past few months. And then she walks in, with her dimples and her straight-for-the-truth guts, and he’d spilled the worst of himself. And was the better for it.

  Damn shame she didn’t live in New York, but she wasn’t the kind who would. She had found her happiness, and it wasn’t in the big city and sure as hell couldn’t be around a lifestyle like this. But he had her now.

  He stared at the lodge, which was huge. It wasn’t just one building, either, but an assortment of cottages shooting off in clusters around the foot of the mountain. Most of the units were designed to face the ski lifts, and he imagined the views were quite amazing. He knew his family was staying in the lodge and had the two best suites, with the most spectacular views, because he’d personally made it happen.

  He was pretty sure they were happy with the whole thing, especially his sister and her family, but the bustling place didn’t appeal to him one bit. Not after passing the smaller, more intimate inns along the highway. Emily had pointed out a couple of them and he’d enjoyed how her cheeks dimpled and her eyes had sparkled. The memory steered his course. That’s what he wanted her to see when she woke up, he decided, and stuck the key back into the ignition.

  They’d have a romantic dinner, spend the night, play in the snow if that’s what she wanted and then drive back to the city tomorrow or the next day. After she left Sunday evening, he’d call his parents and make arrangements to go see them before he headed to Louisiana. In fact, Emily didn’t live that far from his folks…

  His mind’s sudden shift in direction caught him off guard.

  That was kind of a big decision. Not one to be taken lightly for sure. He didn’t want her reading anything into a casual visit because he happened to be in the neighborhood. He snorted, shook his head. Their hometowns were nearly two hundred miles apart. Not exactly the same neighborhood.

  “Are we here?” Emily lifted her head and blinked blearily at him before squinting out the window at the swarms of people leaving their cars or the resort shuttle, all dressed in the latest ski fashion and headed for the lodge.

  “Yes, but I have a better idea.”

  “Have you called them yet?” she asked around a yawn, and then pulled down the visor and checked her face in the mirror. “Darn it. I have smudges. Did you say you called them already?”

  “No, I haven’t. I don’t want to stay.”

  She stopped her frantic dabbing and widened her eyes. “Why? What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” he hedged, unsure as to how much he cared to admit. “I was sitting here thinking about how boisterous my family can be, and the thing is, you’re leaving in three days.”

  She nodded, obviously still confused.

  He hesitated. “This is your vacation.”

  “None of this is news, so I honestly don’t get it.”

  He took her warm hand and joined it with his, pressing their palms together and then closing their fingers. “I’d rather be alone with you.”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “But your family—”

  “Will survive without me. They don’t know I’m here. They’re skiing and snowboarding and having enough fun that they won’t miss me.” He saw the next objection forming on her face, and added, “In a week or two, I promise I’ll go see them so neither of us will have to feel guilty.”

  “Really?”

  “Remember those two inns we saw a few miles before we took Woodstock Avenue? You said one of them looked like a gingerbread house.”

  Her eyes lit up, and she nodded.

  “Wouldn’t it be better to stay at either of those places instead of here?” They both looked out the window just as a group of rowdy preteen boys came lumbering down the sidewalk with their snowboards.

  The tallest of the boys playfully threw a handful of snow into the faces of his friends, who let out ear-piercing howls.

  When the victimized gang, seeking retaliation, bent to scoop up their weapons, the instigator ran for the parking lot. About to duck for cover behind the big SUV, his startled eyes met Nick’s through the windshield.

  Nick heaved a sigh.

  Emily turned to stare at him.

  The boy broke into a big grin. “Uncle Nick,” he hollered. “I didn’t know you were coming.” His nephew excitedly spun around toward the group. “Hey, Kevin, it’s Uncle Nick. Go get Mom.”

  Nick forced a smile as he fumbled for the door handle. Through tight lips he asked Emily, “Can you believe this?”

  She laughed softly. “After the week I’ve had, I’d believe anything.”

  FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER MEETING the Corrigan clan, Emily’s head was spinning. There was Tom, a college professor, married to Nick’s older sister, Leslie, who’d been welcoming and curious as hell, though she did try to hide her inquisitiveness.

  Both their sons, twelve-year-old Ryan and eleven-year-old Kevin, were relatively well-mannered, considering their intense energy level, and their little sister, Lily, was as adorably shy as her brothers were outgoing. All three of the kids clearly worshiped Nick, and Emily decided it had little to do with him being a star baseball player.

  He was touchingly patient with them, listening closely while they talked over each other in an attempt to garner his attention. With Lily, he was gentle and loving, giving her hugs and compliments that made her blush and lavish him with shy toothless grins. That Emily knew this wasn’t where he wa
nted to be made his graciousness all the more meaningful.

  The openly affectionate way he treated his mother was what impressed Emily the most. Ann Corrigan rushed into the suite, greeting her son with moist eyes, and he kissed her damp cheek and then dried a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. For the few minutes she spoke quietly with him, he gave her his complete attention, silencing both his nephews with a single look that told them never to interrupt their grandmother.

  Emotion stirred in Emily’s chest at the sight of them. She turned away and stared out the window of Leslie and Tom’s suite, idly watching the skiers gracefully glide down the runs. She hadn’t actually met Ann yet. Once the kids had outed Nick in the parking lot, he called his sister, who was luckily in their suite, just finishing up a massage.

  Nick and Emily followed the boys up to the rooms, and then Leslie called their mother, telling her only that she had a surprise for her in their suite.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Emily heard Ann say. “You brought a friend. Don’t leave her alone over there.”

  Emily turned around and smiled at the older woman. She was probably about ten years older than Emily’s mother, and a bit shorter and rounder. Her brown hair had only one light streak of gray and she had Nick’s beautiful hazel eyes.

  “Hello,” Emily said, and offered her hand just as she’d done with Leslie and Tom. “I’m Emily Carter.”

  Nick moved over to slide an arm around her waist and draw her into the circle, at the same time his mother closed in for a hug. An awkward moment ensued, with too many arms and shoulders in the mix, and Emily choked on a laugh. She cleared her throat to cover up her gaffe.

  Ann Corrigan laughed, too. “I’m so glad you came with Nick.” She sent a speculative frown his way, lingered a moment on the arm he kept around Emily’s waist, and briefly squeezed her hand. “I guess today is full of all kinds of surprises. I don’t know where your father is,” she told Nick. “Probably at one of the bars watching football. But he knows he’s supposed to be back at our room in half an hour to go to dinner.”