Payoff Pitch (Philadelphia Patriots) (11 page)

Noah had nowhere near the confidence these days to overrule Nick Rome.

Rome trotted out to the mound, his mask tucked under his arm. From behind Noah, first baseman Ryan Locke and shortstop Josh Gavin joined the huddle. “How’re you doing, man?” Rome asked, a frown narrowing his heavy, dark brows.

What Rome really meant was
why the fuck did you leave that one hanging over the plate like that?
The slider was supposed to break in on the batter’s hands, jamming Heyward and making him unable to get around on the ball. Instead, it had sat over the heart of the plate like a Thanksgiving turkey ready to be carved. A half-second later, the ball was rocketing straight over Noah’s head.

Noah took off his cap and wiped his dripping brow with his forearm. His uniform was sticking to his tired body like a wet blanket, heavier and more uncomfortable by the second. Part of him wanted to rip the catcher for his pitch calling, but that made no sense. Rome hadn’t thrown the lousy pitch—he had. “I guess I’m starting to run out of gas,” he admitted.

For a player who had always prided himself on his level of conditioning, that was a humbling admission, especially since it was only the top of the fifth inning and his pitch count hadn’t yet topped sixty.

“Hell, who isn’t?” Locke said with a snort. “Atlanta’s always a steam bath in summer, but this is ridiculous.”

Noah had been told that the temperature at field level at game time was ninety-one, and the humidity must have been close to one hundred percent. He hadn’t faced conditions as draining as these in a long time. “Did Ault tell you to come out?” he asked Rome as he held his glove in front of his mouth to prevent anyone reading his lips.

The hulking catcher nodded as he covered up, too. “I’m sure he wants you to hang in and get through this inning so you’ve got a chance to get the win. Besides, we chewed up the bullpen pretty good yesterday so we don’t want to bring in a reliever until we absolutely have to.”

“Just two more outs, man,” Locke said. “You can do it.”

Though Noah appreciated his teammates’ support, he didn’t share the big first baseman’s confidence. He’d already given up four runs because he was missing with his curve and hesitant to throw the slider. The Braves’ batters had caught on and had been teeing off on his fastball unless he painted the outside corner with it.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he ground out. What else was he supposed to say? The Patriot hitters had put five runs on the board for him already. It was time for him to gut it out and to hell with the conditions.

Rome nodded grimly and headed back to the plate. Locke gave Noah a quick slap on the butt with his glove for encouragement before he and Gavin returned to their infield positions.

Noah reached down and grabbed the rosin bag to dry his hands so the ball wouldn’t slip out of his grasp. As enervating as the heat and humidity were tonight, he couldn’t blame his struggles on the conditions. If a major league pitcher tanked every time the temperature got this high, he’d soon find himself pitching in a beer league in upstate New York or Montana. No, you sucked it up and dealt with it.

Nor could he blame his woes on being distracted by worries about the dogs back home. Teddy had come through for him on that. With flying colors. He’d talked to her last night and again this morning just to make sure everything was ship-shape—at least he told himself that was the reason. She’d assured him she had everything under full control. Cristina was clearly being frosty and unhelpful, but he knew she’d expected that and she didn’t sound too troubled by it. Actually, Teddy had sounded pretty happy, especially when she told him that Toby and Sadie had slept on the bed with her the previous night, with Toby hogging more than half. Several times since, Noah had conjured up the image of Toby sprawled next to Teddy in bed and seriously envied the big Poodle.

As tempted as he was to make a move on his hot little dog walker, Noah had enough sense to realize that messing around with Teddy would bring complications for everybody—her, him, and Cristina. That was why he’d apologized instead of coming on to her again, even though—or maybe because—he swore she wanted him to make a move.

Focus, man. Pull your mind out of the gutter and get on with it.

Noah grimly set his jaw, zeroed in on the next batter, and did what he had to do.

“Did you hear me get in last night?” Noah looked like he could barely keep his eyes open as he sat down on a stool at the high kitchen counter. “I tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you and Cristina.”

Teddy poured a cup of coffee into a Philadelphia Patriots mug and pushed it across the counter. “You look like you could use this. And no, I didn’t hear a thing. In fact, I slept like a baby until I felt Toby’s wet nose on my cheek.” She laughed softly. “When I opened my eyes, he was standing over me like Snoopy doing his giant bird of prey routine. It’s a miracle I didn’t scream and wake the whole neighborhood.”

Teddy had quickly roused herself out of bed, put on her dog clothes—a halter top and sweat shorts—then fed the dogs and taken them for a brisk, two-mile walk. Now, almost two hours later, long after she’d showered, changed, and eaten breakfast, both Toby and Sadie were still sacked out—Toby on his usual sofa and Sadie lying below him on the floor. Noah had given them some attention after he came downstairs, but they’d immediately fallen back to sleep.

The Poodles were absolute darlings—sugar-sweet and easy to take care of if you didn’t mind a little rambunctiousness from the male. Teddy found it endearing, especially in a dog in his golden years.

Noah rolled his eyes. “I warned you about letting him on the bed, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t mind. He’s a sweetie.” Teddy swished out the empty carafe and started to make another pot. “You’re going to want more, right?”

“God, yeah. I didn’t get in the door until three-thirty. Thunderstorms delayed the team plane leaving Atlanta.”

Teddy had to stop herself from staring at him again as he stood up and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a carton of orange juice. The view of his broad shoulders and great ass wasn’t exactly hard to take. His hair was a little disheveled but he looked absolutely yummy with his heavy overnight stubble and drowsy eyes. Even better was the way his tight white T-shirt and navy blue sleep shorts bulged in exactly the right places and left little to the imagination. His tanned legs were a mile long and muscular, and it was all too easy for Teddy to imagine them wrapped around her.

She gave her head a shake, finding it almost impossible to believe that she was having coffee with the hottest bachelor in Philadelphia after spending three days in his fabulous house. And it was all because Buster had dug his way out of his prison next door.
Go figure.

Noah sat back down with his orange juice. “Where’s Cristina? Out shopping?”

Teddy shook her head. “She’s still in bed. Apparently, she came down with something yesterday.”

“That sucks. Did you check on her yet this morning?”

“I knocked on her door a little while ago and asked how she was and if I could get her anything. She said she’d like a cup of tea, so I made one for her.”

Noah gave her a puzzled look. “Nothing about how she felt?”

“No, and I didn’t want to press her.” Cristina had come to the door and taken the tea, obviously not wanting Teddy to set foot in her suite.

Noah separated the sections of the
Philadelphia Post
and pulled out the sports pages, spreading the newspaper on the counter in front of him. He scowled briefly as he read a story and said, “Cristina can be a little weird sometimes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s not really sick. She might still be sulking.”

Sulking was the word Noah had used after Teddy filled him in on the phone about the frosty relationship she’d had with Cristina all weekend. She’d only mentioned it because Noah had pressed her, and even then she’d been extremely guarded in how she’d described the situation. She didn’t want to get Noah mad at Cristina, nor did she want him to think he’d created discord in his home by injecting Teddy into the mix. She could handle whatever the housekeeper threw at her, and she was damn well not going to let Cristina drive her out of the best-paying gig she’d ever had.

“How about I make you some breakfast?” Teddy said brightly. Anything to get him off the subject of Cristina. “I can make a pretty mean omelet. Bacon and cheddar, maybe? Or asparagus? I’ve got some left over from last night.”

Noah looked up from his paper and gave her a crooked smile that made her legs go a little rubbery. “Teddy, that’s real sweet of you, but you don’t have to cook for me. You didn’t sign on for that.”

“No, but I can make breakfast for a friend, can’t I?” Teddy gripped her coffee cup with both hands as she took a sip, watching him closely. “Aren’t we friends as well as client and service provider?”

Teddy winced as the words came out of her mouth. Service provider? That could mean just about anything.

But Noah’s expression didn’t indicate any reaction to her choice of words. Instead, he lifted his arms up high and stretched, making the muscles in his shoulders and biceps ripple in a way that sent Teddy’s hormones into hyper-drive. God, the man must be throwing off enough pheromones to attract an army of women since they were threatening to completely overwhelm her. She clenched her teeth for a moment to stop her mind from going to places it shouldn’t, because she and Noah were going to be
friends
. They were going to share a house from time to time, and they were going to enjoy an occasional meal together. She had to learn to stop reacting like a sex-starved maniac whenever he was around.

“Hell, yeah, we are,” Noah said at the end of the stretch and after a big yawn. “And if you feel like cooking, I’m sure I could manage to punch down a bacon and cheddar omelet.” He grinned. “With four eggs.”

“You got it.” Teddy snapped a salute before reaching down into the cabinet below her and pulling out a medium-sized mixing bowl. She’d familiarized herself with the kitchen after Cristina had told her on the first day that she had no intention of cooking for her. That had suited Teddy fine, of course, and ever since they’d acted like a pair of magnets, repelling each other whenever they came into proximity.

She went to the refrigerator for eggs, butter, cheese and bacon and then reached up onto an overhead rack for the omelet pan.

“How did it go last night?” Though Teddy hadn’t watched the game, Cristina had. In fact, she’d told Teddy she watched all “Mr. Noah’s” games.

Noah didn’t look up from the paper. “I really struggled, Teddy. Not the performance I wanted, that’s for sure.”

His eyes had come alive when they talked about the omelet, but now they’d clouded over again. Teddy wished she’d never opened her mouth about baseball. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. If Noah wanted to talk about it, she’d let him bring it up. “Are you sure you want me to spend the rest of the day here? I’m happy to, but I can leave and come back to walk the dogs later this afternoon if you’d prefer.”

“God, no,” he said. “I want you to stay, especially if Cristina’s under the weather. I want to get to the park early this afternoon so I can spend more time with the pitching coach and get a good workout in. In fact, you’re more than welcome to stay over another night if you’re up for it. I’m happy to pay.” He managed a small smile. “Actually, I wish you would.”

Though Teddy hadn’t planned on another night, how could she turn down the generous overnight rate Noah had insisted upon? When she’d suggested a rate to him before he left for Atlanta, the company’s standard two-dog fee, Noah had said he’d pay exactly double that amount. Staggered, Teddy had accepted and thanked him profusely for his generosity. Some of Dog Nanny Pros’ wealthier clients—like the Bennetts—carped a little about their rates, which were admittedly higher than most pet care services charged. But Noah had declared what she’d initially asked for to be insufficient to compensate her for the amount of work and the disruption in her personal life.

Personal life? What personal life?
She could study just as well at Noah’s as at her apartment. Better, in fact, because it was so quiet. So, whatever service Noah Cade wanted—within reason, she reminded herself—she’d provide it, and not just because of the money.

“I think that could be arranged,” she said. She’d have to go home and get fresh clothes or else do a load of wash since all her stuff was dirty. But other than that there was no problem staying over.

Oh, except for the fact that I’ll be sleeping under the same roof as a man who takes my breath away. A big, tough dude who, despite his apology the other night, looks at me with predatory eyes.

“Great. That way you can help Cristina, too, if she needs it. I won’t be home until close to midnight. Even later if we go extra innings.”

Inside, Teddy chuckled. Cristina would probably rather quietly expire in her room than ask Teddy for help. “Absolutely,” she said with a smile and began to break eggs into the mixing bowl. She braced her left hand on the counter as she cracked the eggs against the edge of the bowl with her right.

Noah stared down at her hand for a moment before raising his eyes. “I’d like to hear the story of what happened to your finger sometime. If you feel like talking about it.”

Instinctively, Teddy gazed down at the stump between her index and third fingers and sighed. She’d been surprised that he hadn’t mentioned it before. Everyone always asked, sooner or later. “It was just a dumb childhood accident on the farm. I’ve grown up with only nine fingers, so it doesn’t bother me much. Probably the biggest inconvenience is that I can only use my right hand to flip somebody the bird.”

When Noah laughed, it was a deep, hearty sound that vibrated through Teddy’s core. She liked that laugh
very
much. “Now
that
is a big problem,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s a real bitch when I’m driving,” she said sardonically, “since I can’t seem to go more than a few blocks without railing at some other driver.” She dropped the eggshells into the disposal and washed her hands thoroughly.