All Wound Up

And make things right.

THE LAST PERSON AUBRY EXPECTED TO SEE AT THE hospital during her shift was her mother. When Marie buzzed her and told her that her mother was in the waiting area, Aubry’s heart clenched. She quickly grabbed her phone, wondering if she’d missed an urgent call or text telling her something awful had happened.

Nothing.

She hurried out to the waiting room.

“Mom, what’s up?”

“I’m sorry to bother you at work. I know you’re busy.”

“It’s actually a fairly light day today, so don’t worry. Is everything okay?”

Her mother grasped her arm. “Everything’s fine. Do you have . . . a minute to get some coffee?”

“Sure. Let me tell them I’m taking a break.”

She dashed in to tell Marie she’d be off for a short while to take her lunch, then met her mom. They left the hospital and walked down the street to a deli. Aubry ordered a sandwich with iced tea, and her mother got a coffee. They grabbed a table in the corner.

“How are you?” her mother asked. “I haven’t seen you since—”

“The night I stormed out of the house? I’m sorry about that.”

Her mom grasped her hand. “Do not be sorry about that. Your father was an ass. I’m still not speaking to him.”

Her lips curved. She could imagine her mom giving her dad a really hard time. Her mother was sweet and warm and kind. And when she was angry—usually with her dad, the house could get very frosty.

That, at least, made her happy.

“I’m so sorry your father did that, sweetheart. He had no right to interfere in your life that way. I have had many conversations with him about this. Many. Conversations.”

Aubry laughed. “I’m sure Dad has really enjoyed those conversations.”

Her mother smiled over the rim of her coffee cup, then set the cup down. “He hasn’t enjoyed them at all. But you can rest assured that he will never, ever again bother you about your work, or your personal life. And he will not be trading Tucker.”

Aubry shrugged. “That part doesn’t matter since it seems Tucker made his decision. He chose the Rivers.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he stopped seeing me. Not that I blame him. Career is everything, and I’m sure Dad scared the hell out of him by threatening to ruin his career. I’m just so mad at Dad. Hell, I’m mad at both of them.”

Her mother sighed. “This just makes me angry with your father all over again. Maybe we should have hit up a bar instead. I could use a cocktail.”

Aubry laughed. “It’s not Dad’s fault that Tucker chose baseball over me. Obviously our relationship isn’t meant to be.”

“Give the boy some time, Aubry. Your father can be more than a little intimidating. Heaven only knows what he said to Tucker. It might take him a while to come around. But based on what I saw of the two of you together, I don’t believe for one second that Tucker plans to walk away from you forever.”

She wished she had as much confidence in Tucker as her mother did. Unfortunately, she had all the proof she needed. He hadn’t stood up to her father, and he’d deliberately backed away from her.

It was over.

She only wished she was over him. Unfortunately, her heart hurt, she was crushingly disappointed in him and she couldn’t sleep at night. She wanted to lay all the blame at Tucker’s feet, but she couldn’t.

The worst part of it all was he’d never once talked to her about any of this. Other than the night she’d showed up at his place to vent her feelings, and that conversation had been decidedly one-sided. She’d walked out and they hadn’t really talked things through. So she had no closure.

Not that it would help if she did. It was still going to hurt, but maybe they needed to have a sit-down, rational, two-sided conversation. An official end to their relationship.

Then, maybe, she could start to heal.

TUCKER SAT IN HIS LOCKER AT THE BALLPARK, THINKING more about Aubry than about pitching tonight.

He’d spent as much time as he could with his parents, because he didn’t see them often enough. He left for the airport early this morning to catch his flight back to St. Louis, giving him plenty of time to make it to the ballpark for warm-ups.

But before he went out there, he needed to make contact with Aubry. He sent a text message.

I’d really like to see you. I’m pitching tonight. Can you come to the game?

He figured she was probably at work, so he didn’t expect an answer.

Except his phone buzzed.

I don’t know.

He stared at his phone for a while, at the answer she’d given him.

Yeah, he deserved that. He deserved worse than that.

He typed a response.

Please.

He waited, and she responded right away.

I’ll think about it. Gotta get back to work now.

It was the best he could hope for, but at least it wasn’t an outright no. And that gave him some hope, which was a lot more than he expected.

He’d hang on to that and hope like hell she showed up for the game.

If not, he’d go over to her place after the game tonight and beg her to take him back. On his knees, if necessary.

After he told her he loved her.

But for now, he needed to get his head—and his pitching arm—ready for tonight’s game. His curve still hadn’t been working like he wanted it to, and that needed to be his number one priority. He’d been working on it with the pitching coach, and he was hoping to get the kinks out of whatever it was in his curve that had been kinked lately.