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She’d come all the way to Belle Adair, Louisiana, to forget about Shane Gallagher, but the joke was on her. He’d followed her anyway.
Chapter Two
Shane cracked open his left eye when the banging at the door wouldn’t stop. He was facedown on the sofa in his studio, legs hanging over the side, with an empty bottle of whiskey overturned on the floor beside him. The sound echoed something fierce and made his head ache. He grimaced and swore, shooting a dark look toward all the racket.
“The hell?” he muttered, staggering to his feet when it became obvious whoever was out there ruining his perfectly good hangover wasn’t going away anytime soon. Shirtless, in an old pair of jeans that had seen better days, he blinked away the sun streaming in from the skylights and yanked open the door.
“You look like shit.” Logan Forest pushed past Shane.
“What do you care?” he growled, slamming the door shut before heading to the kitchenette where he grabbed a carton of orange juice from the fridge and downed half of it. He swiped at the corner of his mouth and glared across the room at his oldest friend.
“I’m not in the mood for a lecture.” He probably needed one, but he sure as hell didn’t have to listen to it.
“I’m not here to preach,” Logan shot back.
Huh. Shane ran his hands through his hair, which was the longest it had been in years, and scratched at the full beard that covered half his face. God, he felt like shit.
“It’s two in the afternoon,” Logan said pointedly.
“And I care because?” Shane’s right eyebrow shot up.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Logan bit out.
Shane winced and tossed the empty carton in the garbage. He was too tired and felt too crappy to argue. “What do you want, Forest? Just tell me and leave me the hell alone.”
“You’re going to haul ass into the shower and get dressed in your Comet T-shirt because Abel and the rest of the team have made the finals in a tournament you’ve known about for months and the game is in ninety minutes.”
He stared at Logan while his brain processed what he’d said. Shit. Shane blinked away a few more cobwebs.
/> “We’ve already played two games today, and I didn’t bother you with those because I’m the good guy here. I gave you some space. But I don’t care about that now because I’m done being the good guy. Marianne Hemsworth insisted on coaching first base this morning, in case you care.”
“What? Billie not up for it?” It was weak, and Shane knew it.
“You’ve been MIA for days now, or you’d know that my wife is home with Ivy, who’s sicker than a dog with the summer flu.”
Shane sighed. “Sorry. I just…” He glanced around the studio, which was a mess. Kind of like his life at the moment.
Logan took a step forward. “Look, I get that you’re going through it right now, and if it was a regular league game, I’d leave you here to drown your sorrows in whiskey and whatever the hell else you’re using. But it’s the finals, Shane, and the kids are excited. Abel is asking after you. And to be honest, I can’t do this with Marianne at first base. She sends runners when she shouldn’t and holds them back when they need to go. We won our last game because the other team overthrew to home and Abel didn’t listen when Marianne told him to stay at first base. The only way she’s giving up that base is if you show. So get in the shower, because I’m not leaving without you.”
Logan was right. Shane was being a dumbass.
“Give me ten minutes.”
Shane headed to the main house, bypassed the master bedroom, which he hadn’t slept in for months, and showered in one of the guest baths. He grabbed his ball uniform and phone and joined Logan outside. His friend didn’t say another word about missing the morning games and didn’t give him any grief. He didn’t mention Bobbi and the sad state of their relationship, and for that, Shane was grateful.
He wasn’t ready to talk about it; not yet, anyway. Maybe he never would be.
By the time they reached the ballpark, Shane was feeling about as human as he was going to get, and he’d barely made it out of the truck when a little boy with dark hair, blue eyes, and a wicked grin ran into him like a freight train at full speed.
“Uncle Shane! I knew you’d make it.” Abel Forest grinned up at him with a dirty face, and a piece of Shane’s heart flipped over. He’d always had a soft spot for the kid.
“I hear we got a final to win.”
“Our last win was awesome, but the other team is going to be tough.” Abel pulled away, his little body practically vibrating with energy. “I have to warm up. Dad says I’m pitching.”
Shane watched Abel run back to the field to join his teammates, and then headed for the dugout, where Logan was looking over their lineup. Marianne Hemsworth poked her head inside, though her smile faded when she spied Shane.
“You’re back,” she said.
