He pulled on his clothes and found Pace watching him. “If you wanted to see something,” Wade said. “You should have watched while I was still in the shower.”
Pace sat next to him. “I didn’t want to tell you before the game. Your father called me.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Have you thought about actually talking to him?”
“I send him what he needs.”
“Yeah. A check isn’t going to solve this one. He wants out of the center you got him into.”
“So? No one’s holding him there.” Wade tied his shoes and stood up. “He can do whatever the hell he wants. He always did.”
“I think what he wants is you.”
“He had a health scare. Doctor told him to quit drinking. He’s got it in his head that he can’t quit drinking without me.”
“So give him you.”
“Hell, Pace, he’s had me all along. But I no longer even attempt to compete with the booze.”
“Maybe if you just talk to him instead of-”
“Not interested.” Wade could talk until he was blue in the face, it never changed anything. Grabbing his keys and his things, he headed out of the facilities and made his way to Sam’s condo. Downtown was crowded, the streets packed as usual. He had to park a few blocks down and was recognized several times as he walked the street toward Sam’s building. He stopped to sign a few autographs and climbed the stairs to her condo.
Tag answered the door. “Hi.”
“Hi. You stay out of trouble today?”
“I did…” He winced. “Not.”
“What did you do?”
“Sort of scared the babysitter off.”
Wade tucked the kid’s head under his arm like a sack of potatoes, mussed his hair with his knuckles, and with Tag letting out a belly laugh and trying to swat his hand away, stepped into the entry.
Samantha turned from the window. She was still in her work clothes, a wraparound shirt dress the color of the day’s sky. Her usual elegant and sophisticated business style.
But she didn’t look her usual cool, calm, and collected in the face of any storm. She had a stress line dividing her forehead, shadows beneath her eyes, and on the window-sill, her fists were clenched.
She was a woman on the edge.
For most of his life, he’d run like hell from this very thing, from worrying about someone else, from caring. But when it came to her, no matter how often he’d tried telling himself it was just the pretense, the great sex, it didn’t fly.
Because even he didn’t believe that was all there was when it came to her.
Chapter 21
Baseball fans are junkies, and their heroin is the statistic.
– Robert S. Wieder
“I’m sorry,” Sam told Wade. “But I have to cancel dinner.”
Wade’s stomach tightened. He’d been thinking about tonight all day, looking forward to it far more than he’d even admitted to himself. “Why?”
“Because the babysitter-”
“Yeah. I heard.” He gave Tag another head noogie.
Tag let out a belly laugh, and Wade smiled at the sound as he looked at Sam. “You don’t have to cancel because of the kid here. We’ll just bring him.”
“Wade, he had the babysitter believing he had three physical disorders, two behavioral disorders, one psychosomatic disorder… and a bladder control problem.”
Wade arched a brow and let go of the kid’s head. “That took talent,” he said into Tag’s eyes with a smile. He looked back at Sam. “I say we make him watch us while we eat burgers and play games on the wharf.”
Sam sighed. “Wade-”
Wade looked at Tag. “Why don’t you give us a minute.”
Tag, no dummy, ran down the hall and slammed a door. “I can’t hear a thing!” he yelled through it. “I swear.”
“It’s not going to work,” Sam said quietly to Wade. “He’s acting out. Yesterday he didn’t want me to leave him here with his tutor when I had a meeting. He left the water running into the tub and just about flooded the entire condo so I’d have to stay.” She shook her head and spread her hands. “Stick a fork in me, I’m done.”
“You’re quitting him?”
She stared at him in shock. “What? No, of course not! I’m quitting you. Obviously Tag has separation anxiety.”
“I think it’s more than that,” he said quietly, knowing firsthand what abandonment issues felt like.
She nodded and lowered her voice to a thread of a whisper. “I realize that. There’s going to be an adjustment period, and clearly he’s testing me. I get that. I’m trying to prove myself to him, trying to show him that I won’t up and leave him, ever, but I can’t screw this up, Wade. I won’t do that to him.”
He felt his heart catch hard, and all he could manage was a nod. She got it. She got Tag.
And she’d get you, a small voice said, but he told the small voice to shut the hell up.
Sam drew a deep breath. “The bottom line is that I just can’t do this thing with him correctly, and also whatever the hell it is we’re doing at the same time.”
Okay, now this he didn’t get. “Why not?”
“Why not?” She gaped at him as if he were an idiot. And maybe he was, because he didn’t see the problem.
“Because,” she said in a low whisper. “It’s taking all I have to handle him the right way.”
Risking his neck, he stepped closer to her, running a finger over her jaw. “I’m pretty sure there is no right way, Sam. All you can do is your best. And for the record, you’re doing a great job at that.” He settled a hand on her hip. “He doesn’t mean to be a pain in the ass, he’s just hurting and scared.”
“I know that, don’t you think I know that?” She looked destroyed over her inability to solve this with her usual strength of will. “It’s just that he’s good at pushing my buttons.”
“Well, maybe if there weren’t so darn many of them.” He laughed when she growled, and then he pulled her resisting body in for a hug. “Dinner,” he said softly, running his hand up her back. “You need to eat, he needs to eat, it’ll serve a purpose.”
He took it as a good sign when she snuggled into him instead of shoving him away, pressing her face to his throat and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Is this just an attempt to get back into my pants?”
“Baby, rest assured, everything I do is an attempt to get back into your pants.”
She surprised him by letting out a low laugh, and pulled back to look into his eyes. “I can’t do this, Wade. I can’t fight him and you at the same time.”
“So quit fighting.” He ran his fingers over the tense muscles of her neck. “We’ve talked about this. Loosen up a little and go with the flow.”
“And if I screw up?”
“With Tag?”
Something flickered in her eyes, making him realize she’d meant him. Them. “Yes,” she said, trying to recover. “With Tag.”
He pulled her back into him, body to body. “He has a mother who couldn’t give a shit, a selfish bastard of a father, and a nonexistent grandpa. By housing and feeding him, you’re already ahead of the game.” He entangled her fingers in his. “And as for what you really meant, with us…” He held her when she would have turned away embarrassed, bringing her hand to his mouth to brush his lips over her knuckles. “Not much you can screw up, Princess.”
“Right. Because we’re just… winging it.”
Okay, not what he meant. “Sam-”
“No, you know what? I don’t want to go there right now. Not now, maybe not ever.” She dropped her hand to his chest. “Yes to dinner,” she said, muffled. “Because I’m too tired and defeated to even call for take-out.” She hesitated, then surprised him by lifting her face and pulling his down for a soft, warm kiss, one that she initiated. “And thank you.”