Thrown by a Curve

Page 16

She went into her bedroom to change clothes. That exchange had been awkward, but it had been her doing. Garrett didn’t see anything strange about hanging out with her. As far as he was concerned, she could be just another one of the guys.
In a dress.
She changed into a short-sleeved cotton dress and slipped on a pair of wedge sandals, then glammed it up a little with makeup and pulled the sides of her hair up in a clip, some of the tendrils spilling over and curling toward her face. She added earrings and a bracelet, for some reason needing to feel feminine, though she had no idea why. Maybe so he wouldn’t think of her as just one of the guys tonight.
Really bad idea, Alicia.
Ignoring that warning voice in her head, she left the bedroom and found Garrett on the back deck. He’d put on a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. Even dressed casually, he took her breath away. So she inhaled another breath and let it out, determined to think of him as just one of the guys.
A really sexy guy she couldn’t touch except in a therapeutic way.
“Ready when you are.”
When he turned around, she caught the telltale appreciative look he gave her, and she couldn’t help but tingle all over.
“You look . . . really nice,” he said, giving her a head-to-toe once-over. More than once, actually.
“Thank you. So do you.”
He laughed. “Just jeans and a shirt.”
She looked down at herself. “Just a dress.”
“Women are prettier.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I have a much finer appreciation for men than I do for other women.”
“Good to know.”
She grabbed a shawl, and they climbed into the car. Garrett drove them along the beach highway. Alicia squinted to get a look, but it was too dark now.
“It’s too bad the sun’s already gone down,” Alicia said.
“Yeah? Why?”
“I would have liked to see the ocean.”
“We’ll be here for a while. I’ll take you out for a drive one day along the beach.”
She pulled her gaze away to look at him. “I’d like that. I love the ocean.”
“Me, too. I love taking beach vacations.”
“It’s my favorite kind of vacation. I guess because I’ve always been landlocked.”
“There’s the river in St. Louis.”
She snorted. “Not about to stick my toes in that, thanks. My idea of a vacation is warm weather, a beautiful blue ocean, and sand under my feet.”
“Ever been to the Caribbean?”
“I’ve never left the US.”
He glanced her way. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You should fix that. There are a lot of beautiful places outside the US.”
“I always intended to go. I’ve just been busy with school and then getting a job after that.”
“Ever been to Hawaii?”
“No, not there, either. But hey, I’m here, and this is great.”
He frowned. “This isn’t a vacation, as you told me today.”
She let out a quiet sigh of contentment. “There’s a beach and an ocean. It’s close enough.”
He made a turn, then pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. The valet parked the car, and they went inside.
The restaurant was nice. Warm atmosphere, and oh, she could smell the bread already. Her stomach rumbled in delight.
The menu was extensive, and she had a hard time choosing.
“Would you like some wine?”
She looked up from the menu. Garrett was perusing the wine list.
“I’d love some wine.”
He handed the list over to her. “I’ll let you choose since I’m not a big wine drinker.”
“Thank you.” She went over the list, and when the waiter showed up, she selected a Chianti.
“Is that good?”
“I’m a traditionalist. I grew up having Chianti with my pasta.”
He cocked a brow. “As a kid?”
She laughed. “Actually, some Italian families do serve wine to their children, in moderation and mixed with white soda. I had some at an early age. My mother is very old-style Italian.”
“Interesting. I think I’d like your mother.”
She smiled. “She’d definitely like you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re an athlete, for one. She loves big, athletic guys. With appetites. Like my brother, Cole. And you like to eat. My mother loves people who love to eat.”
“So, my secret is out, after such a short time together.”
“I’ve been around you long enough to know that during your therapy, you’re always complaining about wanting to stop so you can get something to eat. Or was that just an excuse to get out of doing your exercises?”
He reached for the bread as soon as the waiter put it down on the table. “No, I’m always hungry.”
She laughed.
They ate dinner and she sipped her wine, which was delicious.
“Now that we’ve established you’ve been locked in the States your entire life, tell me your wish list for travel,” Garrett asked as they ate their salads.
She lifted her gaze to his. “Italy is definitely on my list. My maternal grandparents were from Sicily. I’d love to go there someday.”
“Italy’s nice.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Rome and Milan. Beautiful cities.”
“I’m jealous. Where else have you been?”
He shook his head. “We’re still on your wish list.”
“Oh, okay.” She dabbed her lips with the napkin and thought about it. “England, France, Scotland, Ireland, any and all of the Caribbean islands, Hawaii—though I know that’s in the US, but I’ve never been to any of the islands. I suppose you’ve been to all of them.”
“I’ve never been to the big island. I’ve heard it’s great.”
“Tell me all the places you’ve been.”
“I’ve been to a few places.”
Her fork balanced at the tip of her lips. “Go on.”
He shrugged. “Some spots in Europe and Hawaii, of course.”
As she chewed, she regarded him. “You’re trying to downplay your travels so I won’t feel bad.”
He lifted the glass of wine to his lips and smiled. “Maybe.”
“Don’t. I’m perfectly content with the life I’ve lived.”
“All right. I like to travel during the off-season, so I’ve been to England, Portugal, Italy, and France, quite a few of the countries in South America, and several of the Caribbean islands. Hawaii, of course . . .”
Alicia listened to Garrett recount his travels. He was a smooth conversationalist, which surprised her. Some athletes could only talk about themselves, their sports, and their stats, but he was well-rounded.
“You enjoy travel.”
He smiled. “Yeah. I like meeting people. You can learn a lot from visiting other cultures.”
“What about home?”
“I like that, too.”
“Tell me about where you’re from.”
“Nevada. Lots of gambling.”
She laughed. “So, you’re from Las Vegas.”
“Around that area.”
“Is your family still there?”
“Half of them. My dad is.”
He stopped with his glass partway to his lips. There was something he wasn’t telling her.
“Wait,” she said. “Where’s your mom? I thought you said your parents were still together.”
He laid his wineglass on the table and shrugged. “Oh. Did I?”
“Yes. You did.”
“Huh.”
“Garrett.”
“I don’t remember that conversation.”
“Yes, you do. We just talked about it. You asked about my family, and I told you all about them. Then I asked about yours, and you led me to believe your family was exactly the same.”
He didn’t say anything, just grabbed another piece of bread and buttered it.
“Come to think of it, you never elaborated about your family at all.”
He wasn’t even looking at her, was tearing off small pieces of bread and leaving them on the plate. “My bad. My parents divorced when I was eighteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a good deal for them. They fought a lot. The waters have been calmer since the divorce.”
He seemed so matter-of-fact about it, when it had obviously hurt and probably still did. “It couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“No big deal.”
She put her hand over his. “Tell me about it.”
She ached for him, because she saw a man still hurting over the breakup of his parents’ marriage.
“Nothing to tell, really. It was over and done with a long time ago.”
And there he went again, his gaze riveted to his Chianti, as if it held all the answers. She squeezed his hand. “Garrett. Talk to me.”
He lifted his gaze and met hers. “Trying to do the whole college and baseball thing while there was shit going down at home kind of sucked, but I got through it. They were both really supportive of me, didn’t want me to think my world was coming to an end just because their marriage was.”
She pushed her plate to the side and took a sip of wine. “I’m sure you thought it was.”
“I was eighteen, not a kid.”
“Eighteen is still a kid. It’s hard for anyone to have their parents’ marriage break up. I don’t think it matters how old you are.”
He gazed at her over his glass of wine. “I survived it.”
“You’re trying hard to downplay what had to be a really traumatic moment in your life. Why?”
He studied her, then grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass. “It’s not something I like reliving. Frankly, it sucked. I was pissed at them for ending their marriage. I wanted them to stay together.”
Now, she understood. “My best friend’s parents divorced when we were sixteen. It devastated her. They argued a lot, and Casey worried over it, wishing they’d stop fighting. But it never occurred to her that they’d divorce. When they did, she was crushed. It tore her world apart. I hated seeing her so unhappy.”
“Yeah. I was already away at college, but when I’d come home on breaks, seeing the life you knew dismantled and put in boxes, like it never happened . . .”
Alicia couldn’t imagine the pain of having the relationship of the two people you counted on the most fall apart right in front of you. Hard enough to deal with as a child. It had to be harder when it happened as an adult. She reached out and laid her hand over his. “I’m sorry.”
He looked down at her hand then lifted his gaze to hers. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“But you obviously don’t like to talk about it, and I brought it up. I’m sorry for that.”
He laughed. “Hey, it’s not like my parents are dead. People ask about them. I have to talk about it.”
“I’ll drop the subject.” She started to withdraw her hand, but he grasped her hand in his, squeezed it like a lifeline.
“Don’t. It’s okay.”
Maybe he didn’t think he wanted to talk about it, but she figured he really did.
“You said your dad still lives in Las Vegas. How about your mom?”
“She moved back to Southern California, near where my grandparents live.”
“Oh, well, that was probably nice for her, to be near her family.”
“Yeah. I visit her during the off-season and whenever we have games there.”
“And your dad?”
He shrugged. “Not so often.”
There was a story somewhere in there. She wasn’t sure she should ask about it. But she’d come this far. He could always tell her to mind her own business or refuse to answer. “Why not so often?”
He paused, stared into the glass of Chianti. “He cheated on my mother.”
She let her eyes drift closed for a fraction of a second, wishing she hadn’t asked the question. When she opened them, he was staring at her.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Garrett.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do it. My dad’s the one who broke up my parents’ marriage.”
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t wanted to change the subject. She wondered if he’d ever had anyone to talk to about this.
She took a swallow of wine then leaned forward, glad they were in the type of restaurant where voices didn’t carry. The place was lovely, but it was noisy, which meant they could have a conversation no one would overhear.
“Are you still angry with your father over the breakup of the marriage?”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “It was a long time ago. Both my parents have moved on.”
She leaned back. “How so?”
“My mom remarried about five years ago. Nice guy she met where she works.”
“Oh, good for her.”
He smiled. Finally. “Yeah. She really loves Henry. And he treats her like a precious diamond.”
“So you obviously approve of him as a stepfather.”
He laughed. “Yeah, he’s great. And he loves baseball, which is a plus. Though he’s a Los Angeles fan, so I have to deduct points.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Well, yes, I could see how that would detract from his overall score. But I’m glad she’s found happiness.”