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Britt clutched Caleb’s bicep as he weaved through the crowded street. Thank goodness for the music spilling from the doorway of a club and the hum of the train going by, otherwise he’d be able to hear the rhythmic pulse of her heart kicking into overdrive. Where was he taking her?

“All right, Caleb Scott. What are you up to?” she asked.

He flashed a cryptic smile. “Only a few more minutes. It will be worth the wait, I promise.”

She quirked one eyebrow. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“This way.” He led her through a narrow gate and onto a cobblestone path. A lush, green carpet of grass blanketed the ground between the walkway and a pond. Lanterns gleamed from cherry trees, pregnant with blossoms, bathing everything in a warm glow.

Britt let go of his arm and turned in a slow circle. “It’s … breathtaking. How did you find this?”

“Completely by accident. Jogging one day and the street was too crowded, so I popped in here and saw the path around the pond.”

“Look at the hydrangeas.” She pointed to the massive bushes lining the brick wall, their pale blue flowers exploding everywhere. “How did you know those are my favorite?”

“I didn’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “C’mon. I have something I want to show you.” He reached for her hand again, lacing his fingers with hers. Like they belonged together. She followed him along the path. They rounded the curve and she gasped. “Oh, my.”

In the middle of the park, two wrought iron chairs faced each other across a round table topped with a white cloth. A beautiful pink hydrangea in a clear vase adorned the center, with votive candles flickering in jars on either side. Britt looked at Caleb. “Did you— Where— How?”

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I’m— It’s exquisite. I love it.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Then let’s sit down. Dessert will arrive shortly.”

“Dessert?” Britt followed Caleb over to the table, glancing around again for any evidence of a server, Ben, anyone. There wasn’t another human in sight. He pulled her chair out for her and she sat down, spreading the linen napkin across her lap.

Caleb opened a picnic basket, producing a bottle of wine and two glasses. “May I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Please.” A tremor of excitement traveled through her as she watched him uncork the wine bottle. What was going on?

He poured a glass for her and one for himself before taking a seat in the opposite chair. “How about a toast?”

She could only nod as she wrapped her fingers around the stem of the wine glass.

“I know we got off to a rough start—that was entirely my fault—and timing and geography are not on our side, but—” He cleared his throat and stared at the table.

Britt’s pulse stuttered.

When he lifted his eyes and locked them on hers, the air between them nearly crackled. “What I’m trying to say is that I hope tonight is the beginning of something very special.”

Her stomach embarked on a series of backflips. Everything she thought she’d say in this moment, the long list of reasons why this would never work, vaporized. She raised her glass to his. “To new beginnings.”

Their glasses touched with a melodious clink. Britt’s cheeks warmed under his intense stare. They both took a sip, eyes riveted on one another’s
.

“I know it’s rude to text at the table, but I need to summon our server.” Caleb set his glass down and reached for his phone.

Britt caught a glimpse of Heather coming toward them, her mouth stretched wide with a knowing smile. She carried a silver tray with two of the tallest parfait glasses Britt had ever seen balanced in the middle.

“I think she’s headed this way,” Britt said.

Caleb turned in his chair. “Hey, Heather. Perfect timing.”

“Hey, guys.” Heather side-stepped the picnic basket and balanced the tray on the edge of the table. “Two mango parfaits from Takano fruit parlor,” she said, setting the parfait glass in front of Britt.

Layers of whipped cream alternated with what appeared to be a mango sorbet. Generous scoops of more mango sorbet, garnished with another dollop of whip cream and a tiny green leaf were the crowning glory of the presentation.

“I’ve never seen a more beautiful dessert,” Britt said.

“Fruit is art here. Think of it as a decadent gift. Enjoy.” Heather winked and handed over two long spoons with a flourish. Then she vanished into the park as quickly as she’d come.

Britt stared after her. “Did you think of this all by yourself?”

Caleb ducked his chin and dipped his spoon into the whipped cream. “No, Heather had a lot to do with this. I wanted to take you to the fruit parlor but there’s an unwritten rule that it’s sort of a … chicks’ hangout.”

Laughter bubbled up and Britt couldn’t stop it. “Really?”

“I’m serious. Heather said they wouldn’t let me in. Besides, I didn’t think we could handle a public outing tonight. So Aaron, Heather and Ben helped me bring the fruit parlor to the park.”

“This is the most thoughtful date ever.” She tipped a spoonful of whipped cream and mango sorbet to her lips. The flavors exploded on her tongue. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

Caleb stared at her, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

“What?” She blotted her lips with her napkin. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, your face looks beautiful. I’m still stuck on the part about this being the most thoughtful date ever.”

“Oh.” She shrugged, savoring his compliment. “I meant it. Yes, I’m acknowledging it’s a date.”

He broke into a smile, that infernal dimple driving her crazy. “Good. Mission accomplished.”

“How do you know? The night’s not over yet.”

The smile vanished from his face. “True. Before it ends, I owe you an explanation.”

Bam.
She shifted in her chair, the flirty mood of a few minutes ago snuffed out by the reality of his past. “Is this about Amanda?”

Caleb took another bite of his dessert and shrugged one shoulder. “To me it’s more about what happened after Amanda’s death. But, yes. It’s the third act of the story I started earlier today.”

Britt nodded. “I’m ready. What happened after the illustrious Greg Forrester visited you in the hospital?”

“Basically my chances of reporting to spring training were questionable. Even under the best of circumstances, it would be tough to rehab that quickly.” Caleb shook his head, twisting his wine glass in a slow circle.

“Did you think the Phillies would release you?”

“I didn’t know what they would do. But Greg and Lydia wasted no time launching their campaign against me. By the time I came out of the OR, every tabloid and even the sportscasters branded me a drunk driver.”

Britt cringed. She’d read those headlines. Watched those sportscasters crucify him. “Why didn’t you refute it?”

He said nothing for a minute, his teeth sunk into his lower lip. “I’ve asked myself the same question many times.”

“Legally you weren’t charged with a crime, were you?”
Surely Greg Forrester’s influence wasn’t that far-reaching, was it?

“No, of course not. Even though my surfer friend’s testimony was deemed unreliable, my blood alcohol level was easily within the legal limit that night. And I wasn’t driving, even though I did grab the wheel. But it didn’t matter. The damage was done. My fiancC)e was dead and her parents extracted payment in the form of my reputation.”

Equal parts anger and empathy swirled within her. Wrong on so many levels. “After you had surgery, where did you go?”

“Back to Wyoming. To lick my wounds, both the physical and emotional.”

“Then the Phillies released you.”

Caleb nodded. “I was pretty half-hearted about my rehab. I had to drive about forty-five minutes to the next town for therapy. Sometimes I had to go into Denver to see a specialist. My folks will tell you I was mad as a hornet. Pretty soon it was easy to blow off appointments.”

“Did you want to play baseball again?”

Caleb’s whole countenance lit up. “Absolutely. But first I had to put everything in place for the foundation.”

“The foundation? Of what?”

“Mandy’s Kids. It’s for inner-city children in Denver, but we’ve expanded to—”

“I’m familiar with Mandy’s Kids. That’s
your
foundation?” Britt’s incredulous tone surprised even her.

“Shocking, I know.”

“That’s not what I meant. They—you—are doing fabulous work. I had no idea. Why aren’t you more vocal about your role?” Britt scooped another spoonful of mango and whipped cream from the parfait glass. He was such a walking contradiction. Sharp edges and aloof, with a huge heart for underprivileged children.

“I try to avoid the spotlight, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“But this is exactly the thing that could repair your reputation. What if—”

“No.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t.”

Britt reached for his hand. “Hey, I get it. I didn’t mean to push you.”

He thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand. “You aren’t pushy. Ben’s told me the same thing many times. I’ve had similar conversations with my agent, my parents, several supporters of Mandy’s Kids. It’s just— I can’t move past my issues with the press.”

She lifted her chin. “But you don’t seem to have issues with me.”

His expression softened. “You’re right. I don’t. I’m glad you’re here with me. But we don’t have much time. Could we talk less about my past and more about you and me?”

“Fair enough,” she conceded. He’d bared his soul, for Pete’s sake. Now was not the time to persuade him to launch a publicity campaign to reclaim his honor.

“Will you walk with me? Around the pond?”

“Of course. What about our stuff?” Britt grabbed her purse and gestured toward the table.

“It’s all under control.” He winked and stood up.

Fingers intertwined, they walked down the cobblestone path toward the pond. Although she wanted to admire the view and the hundreds of gorgeous flowers blooming throughout the park, she was consumed by how quickly her time in Tokyo was coming to an end.

“What are you thinking about?” Caleb asked.

“That I’d like to clobber Joe Caswell for contracting meningitis and making me leave early.”

Laughter rumbled in Caleb’s chest and he stopped walking. “Is that right?”

She nodded, staring up into his smoldering dark eyes.

“You know what I’m thinking?” His fingers cupped her cheek and he tilted his head.

“What?” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest as that chiseled jaw inched ever closer.

“I’m thinking that if I have to go even another second without kissing you, I might go out of my mind.”

Her eyes fluttered closed while his mouth sought hers. She slid her hands around the nape of his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. Caleb wrapped his other hand around the small of her back, tugging her against him. Then he trailed kisses down her neck, leaving her half-crazy with desire.
San Francisco. Tomorrow. What are you doing?

But she brushed aside all logic and reason, succumbing to his strong arms and passionate kisses. She’d wasted enough time worrying about the future. Right now, Caleb was all that mattered. His hands tangled in her hair, lips moving over hers once again. Tomorrow was light years away.

Chapter Twenty

Shortly after sunrise the next day, Caleb settled into the last seat on the train, his shoulder braced against the cool metal wall. His other arm looped around Britt, pulling her close, loving the way she nestled against him. Never mind that his heart was about to split wide open. If he held her tighter, then she wasn’t leaving, right? He longed to tip her chin up and offer a tender kiss. But overt displays of affection on the train were frowned upon. Instead, he reached over and slid the pad of his thumb across the dampness that trailed south of her Aviator sunglasses.

“Hey,” he whispered. His throat constricted. “I thought we agreed no tears?”

She managed a weak smile, swiping at her nose with a tissue. “Maybe not for you. I spent what was left of the night bawling my eyes out.”

His heart lurched. “It’s only goodbye for a little while. Not forever.”

“One hundred and twenty-seven wake-up’s.”

“What?” He shifted in his seat, toying with a lock of her hair. The floral scent of her shampoo, lotion, whatever, took him straight back to their late night in the park.

It turns out that picnic basket came with a quilt.
Thank you, Heather
. They’d spread it under a cherry tree and talked—well, mostly talkedB,B,—until well after midnight. How he wished they were still there, or grabbing coffee at Starbucks. Anywhere but on the express train to the airport.

“That’s how many days until the All-Star break,” she said.

“It will be here before you know it,” he said, determined to stay positive yet knowing it would be quite the opposite. Four months. A third of a year. How many games would he pitch before he’d hold her in his arms again? How many shows would she tape, swept up in the hectic schedule dictated by the network?

“I’m sorry this week has been so full of drama.” She took off her sunglasses and searched his face with eyes turned a brilliant shade of blue from her tears. “I wish I’d spent less time worrying about my job and more time with you.”

“Hey, look at me.” He waited for her to shift in her seat and face him. “I meant what I said last night. Your work is important. I have a job to do, too. This won’t be easy, but I’m committed to trying. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman with a great sense of humor. I’d be a fool to give up on you.”

A soft smile replaced the frown and she reached for his hands. “Thank you. I’m crazy about you, too.”

He thought his heart might explode. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, a fresh round of tears dotted her lashes. She slipped her sunglasses back into place.

Although the train was crowded with business travelers and tourists alike, he’d already noticed more than a few smartphones aimed their way.
Whatever.
If they wanted a souvenir shot of him and his girl, so be it.

The train slowed much sooner than he anticipated, the entrance to Narita International airport looming in his peripheral vision. A hollow ache filled his chest. The doors
whooshed
open and he tightened his grip on Britt’s hand. They sat in silence, waiting until all of the other passengers filed out, then stood up. Britt let go of his hand and clutched her briefcase, slipping her purse over her opposite shoulder. Caleb released the handle on her suitcase and towed it behind him. The wheels clacked on the metal platform as they stepped off the train.