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A beautiful little girl hung on his hand as if his arm were a rope swing. “Daddy, I wanna go play with Addison.”
Luke glanced at the kids racing around the outfield. “Find out where Daddy put the sunblock, first, and have him put some on your cheeks.”
“I will.” The little girl bolted toward the bleachers.
Remnants of their old rivalry fizzled at the realization that they had all moved on and grown up. Luke would never know how much his success had cost Harrison, and he never should.
Harrison smiled. “Good to see you, Luke.”
“Same.”
A man appeared at his side and Luke frowned. “I just sent Alexis to find you. Did you bring the sunblock?”
“Alec and Sheilagh have it.” The man glanced at Harrison and cleared his throat.
Luke made the introduction. “This is my husband, Tristan. Tristan, this is Harrison, Erin’s brother.”
“I didn’t know Erin had a brother.”
“I’ve been away, living in New York.”
“Nice. You playing, today?”
Rather than regurgitate the same old bullshit—Where had he been? How long was he back? What was he doing with his life? —the guys seemed mostly focused on the game. It was a welcomed reprieve and one he hadn’t anticipated.
When Pat Clooney arrived, the conversation shifted to the status of Paulie’s indigestion. Apparently, Ryan’s younger brother, Pat, was now a doctor and married to Julie Cook.
Harrison once again felt like he’d been through a time warp. He debated texting Mariella but didn’t want to bother her if she was with her parents.
“Luke, be a dear and get the cooler out of the truck for me.” Mrs. McCullough shuffled over, dabbing the sweat off her brow with a crumpled paper towel. “It’s hotter than Satan’s arsehole out here.”
“Nice, Mum.”
She ignored her son. “Harrison, it’s good to see you again.”
“Hi, Mrs. McCullough.”
She turned back to Luke. “Are you waitin’ for a written invitation? The cooler. The kids will want the ice pops.”
“I’m going. I’m going.”
Luke and Tristan disappeared and she shook her head, blotting away more sweat. “Carried him and his brother for nine painful months. The least he could do is haul a damn cooler full of ice pops for me.”
“Can I, uh, help with anything?” Harrison didn’t know if he should stay or go, but he didn’t want to come off as a freeloader who crashed the game.
“Aren’t you sweet?” She stuffed the damp paper towel into her ample bosom. “There’s a beach towel on the front seat of my truck. It’s that old Jeep over there. Could you grab that for me so I don’t singe my arse on the bleachers? The sun’s beatin’ down hard enough to give me two dozen new freckles today. We can’t have both ends cooked.”
He ran off to fetch the towel before Mrs. McCullough made any further mention of her ass.
Once everyone was there, they divided into teams. Harrison hung back in the dugout, keeping his eye on the game, but his thoughts continuously returned to Mariella.
After an hour, he casually approached Pat to get some more details about Mariella’s dad’s condition. “So your uncle’s okay?”
Pat’s hands gripped the fence of the dugout as one of his cousins cracked the ball into the outfield, his focus clearly on the game. “He’ll be fine. My Aunt Col was bitching at him all morning. She could give anyone chest pains.”
If the family doctor wasn’t worried, he shouldn’t be. But Mariella’s continued absence concerned him. He decided to shoot her a text, just to check in.
* * *
Hope everything’s okay with your dad. You’re missing a good game.
The game carried on for seven innings before the kids in the stands grew rambunctious, and several of the wives started packing up for the day. All in all, it was a great game, even if Harrison’s team didn’t win.
He lingered on the field, hoping that Mariella might make a last-minute appearance, but she never showed or responded to his text.
Uneasiness stirred in his gut on the drive back to the hotel. Maybe her absence wasn’t about her dad but about them. It had been Ryan who invited him to the game, after all. Maybe she didn’t want him there.
He couldn’t escape the sense that he’d left something unfinished. He should have pushed the conversation last night and figured out why she was sending so many mixed signals.
One minute she was tearing his clothes off, and the next minute she was putting up walls. They’d always been up front with each other, but it was obvious she was keeping something from him.
Maybe this was about her coworker. Harrison might have interfered in something that he shouldn’t have. However, he wasn’t a decent enough person to actually feel sorry about that. If that guy wanted to sleep with Mariella, tough shit. Harrison got there first.
But the other guy would eventually outlast him, and Harrison wouldn’t be able to stop him from going after her. He didn’t want to think about that.
