Strike Out: Mustangs Baseball #6 (20 page)

“You all saw the game the other day. I think Dr. Reed’s research speaks for itself. I’ve been struggling for months. I don’t know how much of my problem was in my head and how much was physical, but Dr. Reed pointed out issues I was having with certain muscle groups. By paying attention to those, I was able to bring my game around. I don’t think I could have done it without her.”

“Besides,” he continued. “What’s the harm in trying what she suggests? It’s a chiropractor for Christ’s sake not a Voodoo ceremony. The way I see it, Ramirez hasn’t got anything to lose. If it doesn’t work, surgery would still be an option.”

“My thoughts, exactly.” Tony added his opinion. “It’s my body. I vote for the chiropractor.”

“But—”

“The chiropractor it is.” Doyle’s decision cut off the team doctor’s protest. “Everybody clear out.”

He made shooing motions, and they all made their way to the door. “Ramirez.” Everyone, including Tony, stopped and waited to hear what the man had to say. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Yes, sir.”

They turned as one and filed out the door. Royce breathed a sigh of relief. Doyle hadn’t pressed for a detailed explanation, and had still gone with Tricia’s recommendation. He hoped like hell she would give him time to explain. The first to arrive at the elevator filled the car, leaving Royce and Tricia, along with one of the trainers to wait for the next car to take them down to the bowels of the stadium.

“I hope you’re right.” The older man spoke. It was common knowledge Herschel Ford had been with the team ever since they moved to Dallas from Washington, D.C. decades ago. “I don’t want to see Tony out for the rest of the season, especially now that we’ve got Strikeout back in action. We might still have a shot at the pennant.”

“I wouldn’t be back if it weren’t for Dr. Reed.”

Tricia’s glare told him to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t. If there was anyone on the wellness staff with the ability to influence the opinions of the others, it was Herschel. “You should take a look at the research she’s doing. Even if this doesn’t work out with Tony, there’s no doubt in my mind it could one day change the way we do physical therapy.”

“Really?” The elevator dinged, and they all stepped inside. “You’re that confident in her research?”

He’d done what he wanted, planted a seed of interest in the man’s mind. “I am. When Doyle asked me to take part in the study, he had some concerns about the possible use of the information, so he asked me to be his ears and eyes on the program. I found nothing to be concerned about.” He glanced at Tricia. Facing forward, her gaze glued to the red numbers overhead, displaying the floor numbers as we descended from the uppermost level to the lowest, she appeared uninterested in the conversation. He hoped she was paying attention because he was sure he’d never get another chance to tell his side of the story. This was as good as it was going to get.

“I don’t know the full scope of what her program can do, but I feel this kind of technology is the future of rehab and physical therapy.” They’d reached the lower level. The elevator doors opened with a
swoosh
. Royce put his arm out to hold the door open while they exited the car.

“It’s interesting to hear your opinion, Strikeout,” Herschel spoke as he left the car. “I’ve been pushing for the team to look at new innovations to speed recovery times for injured players.”

The older man glanced down the hall where Tricia was making a rapid escape. “Dr. Reed. If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to talk to you about this research of yours.”

Seeing her stop on a dime and turn, a look of complete surprise on her face, Royce had to force his expression to remain neutral when what he wanted to do was smile.

“Why would you want to do that?” she asked.

“I’ve been in this business my entire adult life. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s if we don’t change with the times, the times will change without us. There’s a lot of stuff we take for granted today that didn’t exist when I first started out. I’d be a fool to think everything that’s ever going to be invented already exists.”

“Don’t you want to wait and see what happens with Mr. Ramirez?”

Herschel shrugged. “Does it matter what happens? Like Strikeout said, your program might not help him, but that doesn’t mean it won’t help the next guy who gets injured.”

“I don’t have much data yet. Not on the Mustangs, anyway. But I have the research I did with college athletes.”

“You must have seen something positive in those results or you wouldn’t be here now.”

“You’re correct…. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Herschel Ford, at your service.” He extended his hand. After they shook hands, they headed down the hall toward Tricia’s office, talking as they went.

Royce rubbed the back of his neck and watched them until they turned a corner. He hoped his efforts were received in the spirit he’d offered them. He really did believe in Tricia’s work, even if no one would ever know exactly how she’d helped him. Because she had, he believed her work needed to continue. One way or the other, they’d find a way to make sure it was only used for the right purposes.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tricia stared into the freezer. Neither one of the two frozen dinners staring back at her held any appeal. As she closed the door and opened the one below to peer at the meager contents of her refrigerator, she faced the facts. She wasn’t hungry. Reason stated she had to eat. It was going on 8:00 p.m., and she hadn’t eaten anything since nibbling at the breakfast Clare Ramirez had fixed for them in the wee hours of the morning.

She’d spent the better part of the afternoon explaining her research and the data she’d collected to Mr. Ford. He’d seemed interested, and they had an appointment to talk again soon. Talking with the older man, she hadn’t had time to worry about Tony, but alone in her apartment, she couldn’t think about anything else. The more time that passed without word about how his session with the chiropractor had gone, the more her spirits dimmed. Since no one had called her she assumed her solution hadn’t worked and he was still in pain. Most likely, they were prepping him for surgery already.

She’d purposely avoided thinking about Royce. He’d not only been her first test subject, but he’d been sent to spy on her, too. She knew there were plenty of people who were suspicious of her intentions, but she’d never thought anyone would stoop to espionage. All they’d needed to do was ask and she would have answered all their questions. Instead, they’d sent a mole in to get the goods on her.

She’d been nothing but honest with him, and the League, but neither one had given her the same courtesy.

Royce had come to her defense today, telling everyone to give her a chance. They had nothing to lose by going with her recommendation. They were just being pigheaded and chauvinistic. No woman was going to infiltrate their good ole boys club and start telling them how to do their jobs. Not even if it meant saving one of their star players from undergoing a surgery he might not need. Thank God Royce had spoken up when he did.

When the doorbell rang, she jerked her head out of the refrigerator. Her heart stuttered, and her feet felt like lead weights anchoring her to the floor. Judging by the way they continued to push the button, whoever was at her door wasn’t going away. Half the tenants of the apartment building were most likely plotting a murder right now. The walls were that thin.

Forcing her feet to move, she went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Royce Stryker stared back at her.

“Tricia. Open up. I know you’re in there.”

She was torn between never wanting to see the man again and wondering why he was there. If he had something to say to her, a phone call would have sufficed. He pressed the bell again. She rolled her eyes at the audacity of the man, and opened the door.

“Stop it! You’re annoying my neighbors.”

He didn’t wait for an invitation. He advanced on her, and she instinctively backed away from the door. His gaze raked over the room behind her. “What took you so long? Do you have company?”

Tricia turned sideways, sweeping her arm to encompass her tiny apartment. “As you can see, it’s just me. Say what you’ve got to say, and leave.”

“You’re still mad at me.”

“You bet your ass, I am.” Tears she’d held at bay all afternoon threatened. “I was trying to help you, and you were there to spy on me.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I hated lying to you. If it’s any consolation, I was just waiting for a time to meet with Doyle, so I could tell him he didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“I don’t understand what he thought I was doing? I’ve explained my project to people at every level in the League.”

“He had his concerns.” He went on to explain the manager’s worries about misuse of her research.

“That’s absurd.”

“Agreed, but I won’t fault him for watching out for the players. Someone has to. Which brings me to why I’m here.” He held up a dark bottle she hadn’t noticed him carrying. “Champagne, compliments of Doyle Walker and the entire Mustangs Baseball organization.” He headed for the kitchen, again without invitation.

“What are we celebrating?” It was obvious he wasn’t going to leave, so she decided to go along for the time being. Champagne on an empty stomach probably wasn’t a good idea, but she was beyond caring at this point.

“Tony’s complete recovery, of course.” He opened a cabinet door, shut it, and moved to another. “Where are your Champagne glasses?”

“I don’t have any. Water glasses are to the right of the sink.” She tried to tamp down the elation building inside her. For all she knew, they might have operated on the man today. “The surgery was a success?”

He set two glasses on the counter and slammed the cabinet door. Her neighbors were going to love her.

“He didn’t have surgery.” Royce went to work on the wire cage securing the cork. “It took some manipulating on the part of the chiropractor, but Tony’s good as new. He’s going to sit out tomorrow, give him some time to work the soreness out, but everyone agrees, he’s good to go.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah.” He thumbed the cork loose and poured a generous amount in each glass. “They X-rayed him enough to give him cancer or something, but couldn’t find a thing wrong with him. He even took a few swings, and threw the ball a couple of times in the batting cage. Said he was a little stiff, but other than a little minor discomfort, he felt fine. He said to tell you you’re his hero and the next bottle of bubbly is on him.”

She took the glass he held out to her, lifting it to mirror the one he held aloft. “To you, Dr. Reed. You may have single-handedly saved the Mustangs’ season.” They clinked glasses.

Tricia let the bubbles dance on her tongue before she swallowed. She wasn’t an expert on such things, but there wasn’t anything cheap about the taste of the sparkling wine. She took another drink. “I didn’t do anything.”

“One of the things I love about you, Dr. Reed, is the fact that you aren’t stupid. However, your last comment was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.”

Tricia placed the glass carefully on the counter. Drinking on an empty stomach had, indeed, been a bad idea. She could have sworn she just heard him say he loved her. “Not stupid if it’s true.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. He placed his drink next to hers. “Saying ridiculous things could get you spanked, Dr. Reed.”

The thimbleful of alcohol she’d consumed, and hearing him say he loved her, made her reckless. She still wasn’t sure why he was here. “Did you spank her, too?”

Wide-eyed, he asked, “Who? What the hell are you talking about?”

“The woman you left the stadium with the other night. Did you buy her expensive champagne and spank her?”

He shook his head as if to clear away an invisible fog then he focused his gaze on her. His face was tight, his lips a thin slash. “
That’s
why you left?”

She nodded, no longer certain she’d done the right thing bringing up his groupie. “There wasn’t any reason for me to stay around. You had your game back. I’m sure you had your pick of partners for the evening.”

Royce picked up his glass and drained it in one gulp. The pricey wine tasted bitter on his tongue. He’d known there had to be another reason Tricia left before he’d met up with her in Seattle—he’d just never dreamed it was because of Hannah. He knew he only had once chance to get this right. He chose his words carefully.

“The only person I wanted to share my success with was you. I rushed through interviews so I could get dressed and find you. Hannah, my ex-wife, was waiting for me in the players’ lounge.”

Tricia stiffened at the mention of his ex.

“I didn’t know she was at the game. Hell, I don’t know if she even was at the game. She might have shown up at the end, for all I know. She never mentioned my pitching, so if I had my guess, I’d say she didn’t see the game.” That would have been just like her, he thought. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d paid any attention to his career.

“Anyway, when I first saw her, I thought she was there to deliver bad news. Maybe something had happened to someone in my family. Any one of them would have called her and sent her to tell me. As it turned out, she was there to try to get me to take her back. I refused. The last time I saw her, she was driving away from the restaurant where we had gone to talk.”

Tricia seemed fixated on the two glasses sitting on the counter between them. He waited for her to say something, ask him anything. When she remained silent, he continued. “Sitting in the car outside the restaurant, I realized something I should have known long ago. I don’t love Hannah. I haven’t in a long time. We were high school sweethearts, Tricia. Sometimes love grows up with you, but for us, it didn’t, though we both pretended it had. On my part, staying with her was comfortable. Having a wife insulated me from the Annies—women who hang out, hoping to lasso a professional ball player. I’ve never been one to hook up with that kind, and I never will be.

“I can only speculate about Hannah’s reasons for staying as long as she did, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was the money. We didn’t have much for a lot of years, but we both knew it was only a matter of time before I made it to the Majors and a big contract. Our marriage really began to crumble then. When she asked for a divorce, I was too busy with my career to look closely at what had gone wrong. I blamed myself for her unhappiness. The other night, I realized she had been happy to take the settlement I’d offered. She didn’t really want me, she just wanted the money. She wanted to get back together with me because she’s spent everything I gave her.”

“You must not have given her very much. You’ve only been divorced, what, a year?”

“I’m going to spank you for that remark.”

She jerked her head up. Heat rose to color her cheeks.

“You know me better than to believe I’d do something so cruel. I was more than fair with her.”

“You don’t play fair, Royce.”

“You know that isn’t true.” It was time to throw his best pitch. She was ready for it, he could see the anticipation, the want and need in her eyes. “Maybe I haven’t always played fair with you, but things are going to change. That’s why I’m going to tell you this now. I want you to understand when I turn you over my knee and spank your impertinent ass, I’m doing it because I love you.”

Fire sparked in her eyes.

“I love you, Tricia. Not because you gave me my game back, but because you are a remarkable woman. You’re brave and fearless. You have a mind like a computer and a heart of gold. I love all of those things, but most of all, I love the way you trust me.” He waited for the impact of his words to sink in before he extended his hand across the bar, palm up, silently asking her to demonstrate her trust.

Emotions bounced around inside her so fast it was nearly impossible to grab hold of any one and make sense of it.

I love you.
Oh, how those three little words twisted her world on its axis. In her wildest dreams—and she’d had some pretty wild ones since meeting Royce Stryker—she’d never imagined she’d hear him say those words to her. She hadn’t even allowed herself to hope. Now, she wasn’t sure she could trust her ears. But he was right about one thing, she trusted him with her body. It was her heart she worried about. Could she trust him with that as well?

The same unwavering gaze he employed on the mound held her under his spell. She trembled from head to toe, while his hand remained steady. Solid. Her body knew and craved his touch.

“Come with me. Trust me, Tricia. I’ll never let you down.”

Her body led the way, and her heart followed. She put her hand in his, accepting his reassurance, his promise, his love.

His fingers closed over hers, sealing the bond between them and sending a flood of warmth and certainty through her bloodstream. Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands. His, callused and strong, engulfed hers. A shiver raced down her spine.

“I’ll never do anything to intentionally harm you.”

Realizing he must have felt her body’s reaction and misunderstood, she glanced up at him. “I know. I’m not afraid.”

His expression told her he still didn’t understand. For a man who made his living reading other people, he could be dense as a post. “I was thinking of how wonderful your hand was going to feel on my bottom.”

A smile softened his features. “Were you now?”

“Yes.”

His thumbs swept across her knuckles. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” Without releasing her hand, he came around the bar and pulled her across the room.

As she watched him get comfortable on her sofa, anticipation dampened the folds between her legs. His strength and confidence overwhelmed her senses, yet she knew all the way down to her bones he’d never lift a hand to her in anger.

He pulled her down over his lap, taking every precaution to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. Angled so her torso rested on the cushion beside him, her toes barely made contact with the floor. Fully clothed, she felt exposed, yet safe.

He stroked her bottom with lazy circles, driving her crazy as she anticipated his first loving swat. “Tell me why you’re going to get this spanking.”

“Because I was disrespectful?”

“You questioned my honor, sweetheart. I’ve been less than honest with you these past weeks, but I’ve never given you any reason to believe I would treat Hannah unfairly, have I?”