They filmed videos of Fin surprising Fiona with a huge bouquet of flowers in the clubhouse, one with them sitting in two seats in the stadium with his fin on top of hers and her head on his shoulder, and one with them at a table together for their first date, complete with candlelight.
They covered one end of the stadium to the other. By the time they finished the last video, Liam's ankle ached like someone had shoved a screwdriver into it. He needed pain meds, ice, and elevation.
Claire drove the golf cart back to the office. "Are you okay? You've been quiet."
Grimacing at the ache, he grabbed his crutches and climbed out of the cart. "We can't talk in the videos."
"I know that, silly." She unlocked the door and held it open for him to pass through. "But you were quiet in between filming too, and you're never quiet then."
He pulled off his mask. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he reached for his zipper. "I might have overdone it with the walking."
"Oh, Liam." Claire slipped out of her costume, then helped him remove his. "What can I do?"
"Nurse Fiona would probably yell at Fin. I'm hoping you won't do that."
Face pinched in concern, she ran her hands over his shoulders. "Do you need me to get you some pain meds?"
"Thanks, but I have everything I need at home. I'm glad we're done for the day."
Her capable hands massaged his shoulders. "I can go with you, help you get settled with ice and food so all you need to do is stay off your foot."
"That falls under work and not having fun. I can't ask you to take care of me."
"You're not asking. I'm offering."
He leaned down until their foreheads rested against each other. "You got stuck taking care of Lauren all of last weekend. You're supposed to be having fun with me, not playing Florence Nightingale."
"I'm sure you'll be less of a drama queen than my sister. And I always have fun with you. Tonight, we can watch the game together and you can show me how you evaluate mascots."
"That would be nice." Who was he kidding, it would be amazing.
"I'll follow you to your place."
The drive to his apartment took longer than usual, but with seeing Claire in his rear view mirror the entire time, he didn't mind. He pointed out the restaurant while they waited for the elevator. "We can order something from there or get whatever you want."
"Do you have any food in your apartment?"
"Sure. But I don't think I can hobble around the kitchen, cooking tonight."
She guided him into the elevator. "I can. Which floor?"
"Seventeen."
When they stepped inside his apartment, she closed the door then inspected his space with a grin and a surprised nod. "Nice place."
He thought so or at least he used to. Since living a life on crutches, he'd started to consider the apartment too big. The rooms he used seem far apart when his arms ached from supporting most of his weight. Finally healing and returning to his old routine couldn't come fast enough. "Come in. Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink?"
"You need to get your foot elevated. As long as you don't mind my poking around your kitchen, you should get settled on the couch and I'll bring you some ice."
"Poke away." He made it into the living room then collapsed onto the couch before swinging his bum leg onto the ottoman for a full length stretch. Getting off his feet felt so good. Two decorative pillows were within reach. He shoved them under his foot, then reached down again and removed the boot.
His sock had grown snug and his foot more swollen that it had been in Andy's office. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back on the cushion. Though relieved to be cast-free, disappointment harshened his mood. He'd thought once the cast came off, he'd feel like his old self. He didn't. Not even close.
Soft footsteps announced Claire's entry. He opened his eyes. She looked like an angel with her shining hair and sympathetic gaze as she laid the ice pack across his ankle and adjusted his pillows. "I found fresh pasta in the fridge."
"Sounds good." He clasped her hand. "Thank you."
A few minutes later, she brought the bowl of pasta, a glass of water, and pain relievers. He waited until she'd joined him with her own meal, and then turned on the TV. Seeing his friends on the screen—Dom at center field, Slade at first base, and Adam on the pitcher's mound—made him smile. It was almost as good as having them in the room with him. When the camera panned to Dusty leaning against the dugout's fence, Liam launched into a few stories about the grumpy old man, his personal run-ins and stories the guys had shared over beers. Making Claire laugh was a small payment for all the kindness she'd shown him.
Claire set their empty bowls on the coffee table and then leaned against his shoulder. "How's your ankle feeling?"
"The ice is helping a lot." He slid his arm around her shoulders. "Having you here is helping a lot too."
She rewarded him with a smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good." She snuggled into his side. "Now, show me what we should be looking for when evaluating the competition."
CHAPTER TWELVE
SAVANNA
MISS YOU.
The text had stayed on her mind for two weeks. Savanna washed the lunch dishes and brewed a pot of coffee for her parents, counting down the hours until Slade would arrive.
He hadn't mentioned the text either of the times they'd spoken during his road trip. Or when he'd called her last night to confirm plans for their date. She hadn't mentioned it either. But she'd missed him too. Three weeks was a long time to be apart.
She carried the cups and carafe into the living room and set the tray on her coffee table. "Here you go."
Her mom pointed to the TV, where the Riptide
