Fool Me Once (Bad Boy Romance) Page 7

  “I see. Try and enjoy the quiet. I know it can be a little overwhelming at first, but I think if you let yourself relax and unwind, it will help the tension in your body as well. Sit by the pool, read a book or do anything that helps keep your arm stable.”

  He walked out, and I immediately felt bad. The guy wasn’t trying to hit on me. He was bored and starving for attention. I imagined it was a huge adjustment for him to go from being doted on and chased after to being a nobody. He was an invisible man in a place where he had once been a star. I probably shouldn’t have been so tough on him.

  Then again, his attitude when he first came into the clinic had been rather offensive. He might have laid it on a little thick, but I did believe that was probably how he was. I wasn’t interested in helping him pass the time and becoming another notch on his bedpost. I probably wouldn’t have minded having dinner with him and hanging out, but he was dangerous. I was attracted to him and being alone with him would be way too tempting.

  I didn’t want to be one of the many women who claimed to have slept with Dayton Black. A few years ago, I might have thought it was just a youthful experience that I could look back on and laugh. Now, I was older and far wiser and didn’t want to waste time with quick flings that would never lead to anything. I valued myself and my time too much to do it.

  I went about cleaning up, still thinking about his proposal and almost trying to talk myself into taking him up on his offer.

  “You can’t, Evie. Stay away from the tall, dark and handsome man with abs that make your mouth water. He isn’t worth it,” I muttered, wiping down the bed.

  I bet he was good in bed, I found myself thinking. He was an athlete and could probably go for hours. He was a big man and I was willing to bet he was big everywhere.

  Chapter 11

  Dayton

  I was sitting on the couch, my eyes on the new big screen I had bought and had delivered to the house under a pseudonym. I hadn’t thought about how I was going to get the damn thing mounted on the wall by myself and I wasn’t about to ask my dad for help, so I was stuck with it on the legs, sitting on the floor. I was going to need to buy an entertainment center as well. I kept telling myself the stay at the house was temporary and I didn’t need to buy a bunch of stuff, but a few days without a good TV was too long. I had money. I wasn’t going to keep watching some old-school, rinky-dink TV when I didn’t have to.

  “What is that?” my mother said, walking through the front door with her habit of not knocking.

  I looked up, glad I had thought to put on some pants instead of wearing just the briefs I was using to lying around in. “It’s a TV.”

  “It’s monstrous. Why is it on the floor?”

  “Because I can’t mount it to the wall,” I grumbled, hating that my arm made me somewhat of an invalid. I couldn’t put up the bracket and I was certainly not going to be able to lift the TV.

  “Does this mean you aren’t doing anything pressing at the moment?” she asked hopefully.

  I looked at her. “Mom, I’m doing nothing. I have done nothing for a week.”

  “Great! Would you please run into town and pick up some flowers I ordered? I have a pie in the oven and some other baking I must get done,” she explained.

  “Mom, nobody is supposed to know I’m in town,” I reminded her.

  She frowned. “Dayton, this is important. I’m taking the flowers and the baked goods over to the senior center later. I’d hate to be late.”

  I sighed, nodding. “All right, all right. You were always very good at the guilt trips.”

  She grinned. “It’s an art.”

  I got up from the couch, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and headed off to get dressed. I heard the door close and knew she had gone home, her mission accomplished. My mother was a good lady and there was no way I could tell her no. I had a feeling she knew that and used it to her advantage. I didn’t mind. I was counting on getting some of those baked goods in my kitchen. The least I could do was pick up some flowers.

  I headed into town, going to the flower shop my old friend Kale Dobbs used to work at. His family owned the shop. Kale always said he was leaving town on the first bus after graduation, but my few visits back to Hope had revealed he hadn’t left and was currently one of the worst employees at his father’s shop. I hoped he wasn’t working. He would most definitely recognize me. I parked the SUV and got out, my sunglasses and hat on as I strolled into the shop, stuffed with flowers in every corner. There was barely enough room to make it to the front desk with the number of vases and décor scattered about the place. It was barely organized chaos.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I heard a loud, booming voice say from somewhere unknown.

  I turned around and spotted Kale coming out from behind a refrigeration unit stuffed full of bright floral arrangements.

  I grinned, pulling off the sunglasses that clearly weren’t working to hide who I was from my old high school buddy. “I was hoping you’d buy me some flowers.”

  He smirked, his large, linebacker body barely fitting through the narrow rows of greenery as he walked toward me. “I’ll buy you all the flowers you want, sweetums.”

  “My favorite color is pink,” I said with a laugh as he gave me a quick bear hug.

  “Really, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  “My mom ordered some flowers and she wanted me to pick them up,” I answered.

  He studied me carefully, his brown eyes sizing me up. He nodded his head. “I see.”

  “Kale, no one can know I’m here,” I said softly.

  Kale was still nodding, his eyes moving to my shoulder before he met mine again. “I’ll get the flowers. What are you doing today?” he asked.

  I scoffed. “Sitting on my ass and hiding out as usual.”

  “Why don’t we go fishing?” he said, tapping on the computer on the desk.

  “Sure, that sounds like a good time.”

  He walked to the cooler, grabbed a big flower arrangement and put it on the counter before pulling off his apron and putting it on the counter. “Dad, I’m leaving for the day!” he hollered.

  I looked at him. “You want to go fishing now?” I asked with surprise.

  “Hell, look outside, son. It doesn’t get any better than that for fishing weather.”

  His dad lumbered up front, glaring at his son. “Damn it, Kale. The day isn’t over.”

  Kale shrugged his big broad shoulders. “An old friend is in town and I need the rest of the day off.”

  “You’re fired!” his dad shouted.

  “Do you have a pole or anything?” Kale asked, completely ignoring his dad.

  “Kale, we can go another time, when you’re off work,” I said in a low voice.

  “I got a rigging you can use. Let’s get those flowers to your mama and get busy drowning worms!” he said excitedly, very gently laying one of his big, beefy hands on my shoulder.

  “Kale! This is why I’m never going to be able to compete with that stupid Cupid shop,” his father growled.

  I looked at Kale. “Stupid cupid?”

  Kale shook his head. “His competition. Cupid’s Arrow. It’s another flower shop on the other side of town. The lady that runs it is gorgeous. Nobody wants to be bought flowers from a couple of big brutes like me and my dad, but he refuses to transition the store into more of a nursery. He’s convinced he can win by perseverance alone.”

  “Oh. Is business slow?” I asked.

  “Yes. Bye, Dad!” Kale waved as we walked out of the shop.

  “I need to get these to my mom or she’ll kill me,” I told him.

  “I’ll go by my house and grab the gear and meet you at the farm,” Kale said, ambling down the sidewalk to the old Chevy truck he’d been driving since we were in high school.

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit.” I waved and quickly put on my sunglasses in case anyone happened to notice me.

  I drove home, actually very excited to go fishing. I promised my
self I would take it easy or maybe try my left arm at casting. I knew fishing was actually very little about the actual attempt to catch fish and more about hanging out and bullshitting with the guys. I needed it. After dropping off the flowers, changing and grabbing the beer out of the fridge, I was ready to go. I heard Kale’s truck coming up the drive and headed outside.

  We got to the lake, each of us carrying a small folding chair and a pole and made our way around the side where no one else was currently sitting. There were plenty of guys at the lake fishing, but they didn’t seem to notice us at all, which was a very good thing.

  “So, how bad is it?” Kale asked after we both baited our hooks and threw out our lines.

  “How bad is what?” I asked.

  “The arm. I saw the game.”

  “You did?” I asked with surprise.

  “Hell yeah, I did. I always watch your games,” he said as if it was the most obvious answer.

  I nodded. “Cool.”

  “So, is it bad? Why are you really back in town and why is no one supposed to know?” he pressed.

  I took a deep breath, confident I could trust one of my oldest friends, even if we didn’t really keep in touch. “I don’t know if it’s bad. It’s bad enough I can’t play for a few weeks. The doctors have me doing massage therapy to try and relax the muscle and aid healing. They aren’t telling me how bad it is, but their expressions don’t lie.”

  “A little time off is a good thing. I’m sure you’ll rebound in no time. You always did,” he assured me.

  “I don’t know. This time feels different.”

  “Why aren’t you in the city getting rehab from some hotshot sports doctor?” he asked.

  I scoffed. “Because my coach doesn’t want anyone catching on to how bad the injury is. He’s worried it might screw things up for them and me. They need me to be a big star as much as I want it. If I’m on the injured list and officially out for the season, it’s not good for anyone. If it is bad enough that my career is over, it’s going to be a huge deal for all of us.”

  “Seems like everyone is getting pretty excited for something as basic as a pulled muscle,” he replied.

  I shook my head. “We’re past pulled muscle. They’re thinking some tendons may be torn or maybe the rotator cuff. If it turns out to be that, I’ll need surgery. If I have to get surgery, there’s a good chance I’m going to lose some mobility and strength. I doubt I would ever be able to throw like I used to. It would be game over for me in the league.”

  “What are you going to do if that happens?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. I thought I had at least another five years in the game. I had grand plans to have some big marketing deals and endorsements that would set me up for the rest of my life. I’m not sure what I’ll do now.”

  “You could go to school,” he suggested.

  I cringed. “Like you did?”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I don’t think we’re the type of guys to get a fancy degree and sit in an office pushing papers all day.”

  “No, I don’t think we are. Maybe we could retire and fish all day,” I said with a laugh.

  “Hell, I’m already half-retired. Just ask my dad!”

  “Maybe I’ll work on the farm with my dad,” I muttered.

  “That should be a real joy for the both of you,” he retorted.

  “You’re right. Well, at least if all else fails, I have a house I can live in.”

  He started to slowly reel in his line. “I think you need to give it some time. You’ve only been out a week. Give your body some time to heal. If I know you, you pushed yourself too hard. This is your body’s way of saying slow the hell down.”

  “I hope you’re right. I just can’t imagine my life without baseball.”

  “Trust me, you will survive, and you will go on to do other great things. Do you think you will move back here if that’s the case?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Maybe, probably. I have a home here. I suppose I could sell it and use the money to buy something back in LA or San Francisco, but I don’t know. I have never let myself think about it. Now, with nothing else to do except think, I’m going half out of my damn mind.”

  “Fish. If you’re free tomorrow, I can clear my schedule and we can go out to the other lake. There’s always good fishing there,” he offered.

  “If I’m free tomorrow?” I asked sarcastically.

  He chuckled. “Shoot, that’s right; you’re on vacation.”

  “Ha ha. You’re supposed to have a job. You better work or your dad is really going to fire you one of these days,” I warned him.

  He scoffed. “He’s been firing me for the last fifteen years. I’m the only employee he has. He can’t do it without me.”

  I laughed, happy to be hanging out with my old friend. I didn’t think there was anything that could ever get Kale riled up. He was the most laidback individual I’d ever met in my life. He had one speed—slow. He was never in a hurry to do anything and just didn’t give a fuck about much of anything. I wished I could be so lackadaisical. It would make life a lot less stressful.

  Chapter 12

  Evie

  I knew I tended to be more of a serious person and people rarely expected me to be a practical joker, but sometimes I liked to surprise people. I just knew my boss was going to have a small heart attack when I showed up for work today. It was my way of getting him back for the Dayton nonsense. Not that I minded having Dayton as a client, I was just not all that fond of the ridiculous paperwork that went along with him. Tom was insistent we not look like medical professionals. He wanted us to be more casual and put our clients at ease, hence the khakis and polos.

  Today I was going in to work as a naughty nurse. Well, as naughty as I dared. My ass was covered and there wasn’t a lot of cleavage showing, but I did have on a somewhat short skirt, heels and a tight top. I put on some red lipstick and smoothed a few loose hairs into place from where they had been falling out of my high ponytail. I smiled at my reflection, picturing Tom’s face when I walked into work today. I grabbed the bag with my real uniform in it, planning on changing as soon as the novelty of my little April Fool’s joke was over.

  When I walked in, the receptionist’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw me. “Evie! He’s going to kill you!”

  I grinned. “I hope so.”

  I strolled past Tom’s office to the small break room to deposit my bag. When I stepped out of the break room, Tom was standing in the hallway, his mouth hanging open as he took in my outfit. “What the hell?” he grumbled.

  I smiled. “I want to be taken seriously as a medical professional. I am technically a healer and since I didn’t get to go to school to become a nurse, I am going to pretend I am one.”

  He shook his head. “Evie, no way. You are not wearing that. It is hard enough for us to be taken seriously around here. You can’t wear that! You look like a—a—I don’t know! You can’t!”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “Actually, I can. There’s no official dress code. I never signed anything that said I had to wear the polo shirt. I mean, I remember what I signed, like that NDA. That I remember,” I said innocently.

  He shook his head. “Evie, come on. That wasn’t me. That was them.”

  “You could have turned them down.”

  “Do you know how much extra they’re paying to make sure he gets the best treatment? They are paying for the slot before and after his appointment to make sure there is no one in the clinic waiting when he comes and goes. I can’t turn down that kind of business. Plus, he’s Dayton Black! He’s from around here! He’s a famous ball player. That’s a really big deal!” he exclaimed.

  “For you, maybe. I don’t care. The bodies are all the same to me,” I said and turned to leave.

  “Evie! You can’t wear that! Dayton is coming in today!”

  I wasn’t ready to give up my joke just yet. I wanted to prolong Tom’s misery just a little longer. I grabbed my sheet
of appointments and headed into my little room to review and get ready for the day.

  When Dayton showed up, I immediately regretted not changing. Things had gotten busy and I hadn’t had the chance to worry about what I was wearing. He looked me up and down, one brow raised. “New uniforms?”

  I laughed. “No. April Fool’s joke.”

  “Oh. I don’t get it.”

  I sighed, not wanting to tell him his business was part of the reason for the joke. “My boss is very particular about the image our business presents. As you know, massage parlors tend to get a bad name. He likes us to look very boring. He doesn’t want us to be mistaken for the type of place a guy can come in for a little slap and tickle.”

  Dayton laughed. “Oh, so the sexy outfit is to tease the boss?”

  I nodded. “Yes. He’s told me to change at least twenty times thus far.”

  “That’s cool that you have such a good relationship with your boss,” he commented.

  I smiled. “Yes, it is. Tom’s a good guy.”

  He pulled off his shirt, giving me a beautiful view of his fabulous abs. “How long have you worked as a massage therapist?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “A couple of years.”

  “Is this what you wanted to be when you grew up?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

  I laughed. “Rubbing strange bodies all day long? No. It isn’t what I had envisioned myself doing, but it was what fit into my life at the time.”

  “At the time?” he asked, lying down on his stomach.

  “Yes. I had been planning to go to nursing school. I wanted to get my RN. My mom got sick and I opted to stay here and use the tuition money set aside to help her out. It made sense to get a simple license that would allow me to get a decent job without all the effort of going to school for years,” I explained.

  “Is your mom still here?” he asked.