Just Practicing (Hearts for Ransom Book 2) Page 2

  Logan smiled sadly. “I’m worried about you. The guys are worried about you. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  Bo felt anger stir. “I’ve been doing my job, haven’t I? I don’t see how any of the rest of my life is anybody’s business.”

  A deep sigh escaped Logan. “Bo, look out the window. Look at the roof you’ve been working on. Closely.”

  Bo stood up and took the three steps between his chair and the window. He looked out, and over at the house they were building. There, on the roof, were the shingles he had been laying—running perpendicular to the way they should be. He had been laying shingles sideways.

  “Well, snowflakes in July, Logan.” That put a different spin on the situation. “I’ll fix it. Just take the materials out of my salary, and I’ll put in the extra hours it takes to catch up with no pay.” He returned to the chair, for the first time ashamed of his work.

  “I’m not worried about the time or shingles, Bo. I’m worried about you.” Logan leaned over his desk and folded his hands. “Did you know Coop has been watching you like a hawk, afraid you were gonna fall asleep and take a tumble off the roof?”

  Cooper Grayson was another one of Bo’s friends. All the guys who worked at Taylor, except Gerald, played fast-pitch softball for Simpson’s Slammers. Bo, himself, played first base. Logan pitched, and Mason Wright, the foreman, was their catcher. Colton Rennard played shortstop, and Coop was third baseman.

  “So, what did you guys do? Have a meeting about me?” Bo asked incredulously. “Are you staging an intervention, Logan?”

  “If that’s what you want to call it. Tell me what’s going on, Bo,” Logan requested. “As your friend, not your boss.”

  “You know I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship while I’m on the clock.”

  “You’re not taking advantage if I offer. Now, please, Bo…talk.”

  Bo sighed. He had planned on talking to Logan—and Emily—anyway. Why not now?

  “It’s everything,” he admitted. “I just feel like I’m bein’ pulled in so many directions, I’m going to be split apart. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I know you’re obligated to be here,” Logan said, “but what else are you talking about?”

  “I can’t…I won’t give up the Slammers. I missed playing last summer more than I ever thought I would.” The team sat out the season rather than play for Sam Haynes, the blackmailing owner of Sloopy’s Bar and Grill. Their new sponsor, Troy Simpson, who owned Simpson’s Auto Parts stores, was a much better boss than Haynes. Playing ball was fun again.

  “You shouldn’t have to give the Slammers up,” Logan agreed. “What else?”

  “Seth needs me.” Bo’s eyes met Logan’s. “Jan’s doing a great job, but she’s a woman, and he’s a boy. She’s not even as old as I am, did you know that? She’s only twenty-three, ten years older than Seth. She lets me be a part of his life. I went to his parent-teacher conferences with her. How about that? I’m that involved in his life—and I want it to stay that way.”

  “Trevor doesn’t need me to the extent Seth does you, but I know where you’re coming from.” Trevor Ryman was Logan’s “little brother,” and Logan hired his destitute grandparents so they could afford to meet Trevor’s and their own needs. Bo knew Logan saw Trevor often since the boy had come to work with his grandpa a few times, and frequently went along with his grandma, who was the main caregiver for Logan’s agoraphobic mother. The four of them—he and Seth and Logan and Trevor—had spent a few afternoons fishing.

  “Is there another obligation you’re having trouble with?” Logan asked.

  “Liz is unhappy with me,” Bo admitted. “Like all the time.” He studied the shell-filled glass paperweight on Logan’s desk. “I can’t say I blame her, either. I work during the week. During the evenings, I’m either at ball practice or with Seth. Then Saturdays are game days. You know about our family Sundays, when just the three of us do somethin’ together, for Seth. I’m down to where the only times I see Liz are on Sunday evenings, and then I’m so tired, we end up at my place watching reruns on television. Heck, I’ve fallen asleep on her the past eight or nine weeks. I woke up on the couch, and she was gone.”

  “Does she still manage her dad’s jewelry store at the mall here in Ransom?” Logan asked. Bo knew Liz helped Logan with Emily’s engagement ring—something about getting the right size.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I guess I don’t understand why she isn’t working during the day like you, and spending evenings with you and Seth. That would give you more time together.” Logan seemed perplexed.

  This was going to be hard to admit. Bo studied his hand for a moment before raising his gaze to his friend. “Liz doesn’t really approve of me being in Seth’s life. She and I had a good row about it when I first told her what I was doing. The next day, she told me she saw my side of things and understood, but she really didn’t. I can tell.”

  “So, you feel like you’re choosing between the boy you’ve come to think of as pretty much your own son, and your girlfriend,” Logan observed.

  Bo thought about it. That was his problem in a nutshell. He nodded. “It bites.”

  Soft laughter filled the room. “You do have a way with words, Bo Daniels.”

  Bo had been so caught up in talking to Logan, he didn’t hear Emily Taylor come in. He stood up to return the feisty woman’s hug. As usual on a weekday, she wore her long, brown hair in a ponytail, and was wearing her nurses’ scrubs. She was head RN on the day shift at Ransom Hospital.

  Logan better know just how lucky he was that he had captured this lady’s heart. If the circumstances were different, and there had been the slightest chance for anything happening between the two of them, Bo would have been mighty tempted to give his friend a run for his money.

  “So, what bites this time?” Emily asked as she walked around and plopped herself onto her husband’s lap.

  Bo gave Logan a questioning look.

  Logan shrugged. “She might be able to give you some good advice. She’s a woman.”

  Emily turned her head and gave her husband a wicked smile. “And why are you acting like you just now noticed that? You sure knew it last night.” She pulled herself against him and kissed his lips with an intensity that caused Bo to look out the window again. At those stupid, sideways shingles. How had he done that?

  “Sorry, Bo.” Emily giggled. “I just can’t control myself around this guy.” She squealed as Logan obviously tweaked her bottom. “What bites?”

  “You don’t want to hear about my problems. I’ll just leave you two alone.” He started to stand up. “I’ve got a mess of shingles to pull off and replace.”

  “Sit down, Bogard Daniels,” Emily ordered. “We’ll behave. There’s something wrong, or you wouldn’t be in here at this time of day. Now spill.”

  Bo sat back down. He thought of all he and Logan talked about. It all boiled down to one problem. “Liz doesn’t want me to be in Seth’s life as much as I am.”

  Emily’s eyes were troubled. “She told you that?”

  He shook his head. “Not in so many words.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Emily smiled sympathetically. “I’ve never felt threatened by Logan’s relationship with Trevor. Do you think that may be the problem in Liz’s case, though?”

  Bo shrugged. “We don’t talk about it.” He realized something. “That’s just it. We don’t talk about Seth at all. He’s important to me, but she doesn’t give a hoot about him.”

  “Then she can’t know him,” Emily declared. “There is no way any woman with a beating heart could know Seth and not care about him.”

  Bo looked into her troubled eyes. “What should I do?”

  Logan was the one who answered him. “Work it out so the two of them spend some time together.”

  “I told you how full my schedule already is,” Bo protested.

  The other man cleared his throat. “Well, you’re going to have some extra time for t
he next couple of weeks. I’m giving you two weeks paid leave.”

  Bo was flabbergasted. “You can’t do that! I have to work overtime to make up for that mess out there.” He indicated the roof he had been working on. “And I told you I’m covering the cost of the replacement shingles.”

  Logan’s expression changed. Bo knew he was no longer looking at his friend. He was looking at his boss.

  “Bo, it’s a lot cheaper for me to eat the cost of some shingles and your salary for a couple of weeks, than it is to end up paying workmen’s comp because you fell asleep and rolled off that roof.” Logan had never used that tone of voice with Bo before. “Effective immediately, you’re off work. I don’t want to see you back here until two weeks from Monday. Got it?”

  It was still Bo’s first instinct to protest, but another look at Logan’s face and the way Emily was no longer making eye contact with him told Bo it was useless.

  “Okay, Logan,” he acquiesced. “But I don’t think it’s fair to you.”

  Emily finally looked at him again. “Bo, Logan is giving you a chance to fix your problem. Take this time to let Liz get to know Seth.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Bo told Logan gruffly, “but this all bites.”

  Without another word, he stood up and left the trailer. There was just one person who could make him feel better. He was going home to take a shower, and then he was going to see Seth.

  “Have you seen the pot I always use for spaghetti?” Jan asked her nephew.

  “I put it in the cabinet beside the stove just like you told me,” Seth replied. “Here, Aunt Jan. Scoot out of the way and I’ll find it.”

  Jan stepped away from the counter and let the boy, who stood a good five inches taller than her since his last growth spurt, get on his knees in front of the cabinet. She bit back a giggle as all except his rear end and long legs disappeared inside it.

  “Here it is!” He backed out and held up the pan she had just finished looking for in that very same cabinet. His red hair, which she should probably make him get cut, was falling into one eye, and the freckles which made him so cute when she first set eyes on him, now made him handsome. He was turning into a young man right before her eyes.

  “You didn’t tell me you shoved it back into the next county.” She accepted the pan from his hands. “I don’t have those orangutan arms, you know.”

  He popped up to stand beside her. “You’re kind of short, too.” He looked down at her and grinned.

  “I prefer the term vertically challenged, thank you very much.” She walked to the sink and turned on the faucet, filling the pan with enough water to boil spaghetti.

  “I bet you do,” he countered with a chuckle. As long as she lived, she would never get tired of hearing her nephew laugh.

  “So, what did you and Mrs. Harper do today?” She set the pan on the stove and lit the burner before turning to start their salads.

  “I mowed her lawn and trimmed it with her weed whacker. Tomorrow I’m going to weed her flower bed,” he answered. “I’m bringing her special chair outside so she can sit and tell me which plants are flowers and which are weeds. I can’t tell the difference.”

  Mrs. Harper lived in the house behind theirs and had no family of her own. She had taken to Seth right away and insisted he stay with her during each weekday while Jan was at work. Seth did odd jobs for the older lady, who was finding it increasingly difficult to use her walker. Sadly, she would soon have to rely on a wheelchair. Jan figured, with Mrs. Harper talking him through, Seth probably took more care of her than she did him. He loved her, though. She filled another spot in his life, giving him a grandmother of sorts.

  “What time is Bo picking you up?” Thursdays were the Slammers’ practice nights. Bo always tried to take Seth along to watch, and the team even let him get on the field with them sometimes. Seth loved it.

  “Practice starts at seven, so Bo will pick me up around six-thirty. Jake won’t be there tonight, so they’re letting me cover right field.” He practically bounced on his toes.

  Jan bit back her smile. Jacob Landon played right field because he was probably the Slammers’ weakest fielder. Since he was an attorney, he must be working on a trial that evening. Members of the team seldom missed a practice.

  After sharing in her nephew’s enthusiasm, she asked him to set the table. She was stirring the pasta into the boiling water when somebody rang the doorbell.

  “I’ll see who it is,” Seth volunteered.

  Jan glanced at the clock. It was only a quarter after five, too early for Bo, and they didn’t get many visitors. She wondered who it could be.

  “Seth,” she called quietly, “if it’s a salesman, just tell him we’re not interested. Don’t let him in.”

  “Okay, Aunt Jan.”

  She heard him open the front door.

  “Bo!” She couldn’t keep from grimacing when she heard the storm door squeal in protest as Seth eagerly shoved it open. Bo was early.

  She was just drying her hands on a towel when he followed Seth into the kitchen.

  “Aunt Jan, Bo’s here!”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I imagine Mrs. Harper knows he’s here from the way you greeted him. That door is going to fall off of its hinges one of these days, Seth.”

  Bo, shrinking her kitchen to half its size just by his mere presence, grinned sheepishly. “Hi, Jan. I’m sorry I’m here so early.”

  She returned his smile. “That’s okay. Did practice schedule change?” He was usually very considerate and let her know when anything about his plans with Seth changed.

  “No. I…I got off work early, so I thought I’d just come spend a little extra time with Seth.” He looked uncomfortable. He’d always seemed at home in her house before—since the first time he walked in. She felt certain something was bothering him.

  “Have you had dinner?”

  “I didn’t even think about dinner,” he admitted. “I guess I’ll just pick somethin’ up after practice.”

  Before she could extend an invitation herself, Seth did. “You can eat with us. Aunt Jan’s fixing spaghetti, and we always have leftovers, don’t we, Aunt Jan?”

  “I don’t want to get in the way. I’ll leave and—”

  “Don’t be silly,” Jan interrupted. “You’re more than welcome to eat dinner with us.” She turned to her nephew. “Seth, please set another place at the table.”

  He happily walked to the cabinets.

  “Can I help with anything?” With one step, Bo stood at the counter.

  She looked at the spaghetti, which looked close to being ready to drain. “You can open the jar of sauce, and pour it in that pan over there.” She began to fix another salad as he popped the lid open and dumped the sauce out of the jar. “Do you like onions in your salad?”

  “Love ‘em.” He set the pan of sauce on the stove and lit the burner beneath it. Jan waited until he turned away before she reached over and turned the setting from high to simmer. He would have scorched their sauce.

  Together, the three of them managed to prepare a meal and were soon seated around the table. As they ate and Seth kept up nonstop chatter, Jan couldn’t help but think of how big Bo was. And it was all muscle. She thought of Lance and couldn’t help but compare his build to Bo’s. Lance was really ripped, but Bo was a large man, and his muscles were the kind that came from hard, physical labor—not hours in a gym. His dark hair, which used to hang loosely to his shoulders, now clung to his neck, and his eyes were a deeper brown than any she’d ever seen. Dark versus light; Bo was almost a direct contrast to Lance.

  “Aunt Jan, did you hear Bo?’ Seth was looking at her expectantly.

  She shook herself out of her musings. “I’m sorry, Bo. It was a little hectic at work today. I guess I let my mind wander. What did you want?”

  “I asked if you’d like to come along this evening.”

  She liked fast-pitch softball and had watched many games, even before Seth came to live with her and she personally met Bo.
And Seth was playing tonight. But this was Seth’s time with Bo. This was the time for the two of them to spend together and bond. Besides, she had a lot to do.

  “Thanks, but if I don’t get caught up on my laundry, Seth and I will be getting arrested for indecent exposure.”

  A grin slowly spread across the big man’s face.

  “You’re still taking me to the game on Saturday, aren’t you?” Seth asked her, his brow creased with concern.

  She nodded. “That’s why I need to stay home this evening and get the laundry done.”

  “Mrs. Harper…”

  Seth took off and rattled cheerfully away during the rest of the meal, with the adults only finding it necessary to insert an occasional one or two-word response.

  “May I be excused?” he asked, once he finished his second plate of spaghetti. “I want to check my email and see if Kaleb answered me yet.”

  Kaleb Palmer, another participant in last summer’s mentoring program, had moved away a few weeks earlier. His widowed mother remarried, and her new husband’s job relocated them to northern Michigan. Seth was determined to stay in touch with him.

  “I’ll help clean up,” Bo volunteered, standing.

  “Go ahead,” Jan told Seth. As Seth left the room and headed toward the office, where they kept the computer, she looked at Bo. “I’ve got this. You’re a guest. Why don’t you relax for a little while?” She still thought something was bothering him.

  He confirmed her suspicions after he picked up his plate and salad bowl and carried them to the counter. “I need to talk to you about something. I’ll dry dishes for you while we talk.”

  A sudden frisson of fear came upon Jan. Was he going to tone down, or even end, his relationship with Seth? What would she do if he did? How could she ever hope to replace Bo in Seth’s life?

  She woodenly filled the sink and began washing dishes, waiting for him to speak.

  “You know I have a girlfriend?” Bo asked. “Liz?”