The Practice Proposal (4 page)

Cole shook his head. “Was?”

Liza’s stomach clenched. She didn’t want to tell him about Wes, so she shrugged casually.
“I guess there’s still time, isn’t there?”

The sun sank lower, casting a pink hue across the landscape. Mesmerized by light and
color, she and Cole watched the sunset in silence as the trailer dipped and swayed
along the road, the air becoming cooler as the day turned to twilight. Just as the
sun disappeared, as if on cue, Mack stopped the truck.

“We’re here,” Cole said, excitement in his voice. He stood and helped Liza up. It
took a second for her to get her feet under her, then she and Cole jumped off the
trailer.

“This is amazing,” she said the moment she got a glimpse of their surroundings. They’d
been facing backward during their hayride, so she had no idea they’d reached a large
pond. A wooden dock stretched out from the shore, a small motorboat tethered to the
end. White party lights were strung from pylon to pylon, waist-high along the dock.
Just onshore was a fire pit—with logs and kindling set Boy-Scout perfect, just waiting
for a match—with two red Adirondack chairs facing the fire and the pond. The chairs
were decked out with navy blue cushions on the seat and back—the back ones embroidered
with the white curly W that was the Nationals’ logo.

“You weren’t kidding about these people being fans,” Liza said. “All the way down
to their chair cushions.”

Cole gave her an I-told-you-so nod, and Mack got busy off-loading a cooler and a big,
old-fashioned picnic basket from the truck. Liza walked toward the dock, taking it
all in.

In the background, Mack said to Cole, “Just give me a buzz when you’re ready to head
home. And you two kids enjoy yourselves.”

“Thanks, Mack,” Liza called.

Mack waved, started the truck, and drove off. The taillights and the rumble of the
engine faded into the dusk, leaving her alone with Cole. She had a fleeting thought
about her challenging fund-raising goal at BADD and wondered how much money she could
raise toward it if she sold this time to women in five-minute increments.

Amid a flutter of nerves, she headed back up toward the fire pit, wishing she’d read
the charity-auction-date-with-a-playboy handbook for some pointers on how she was
supposed to act.

“You hungry?” he asked.

No matter what, she could always find her appetite. “Definitely,” she said. “What’s
on the menu?”

…

“No chef tonight,” Cole said. “Just you and me and two long sticks.” He pulled his
Swiss Army knife from his pocket and grabbed one of the two sweet-gum sticks that
were propped against a chair. With a quick and easy motion, he stripped the bark off
the end and started whittling it into a wicked point.

“What are we cooking?”

“I figured we’d go super-gourmet and roast some hot dogs.”

She gave him a wide smile that made him feel as though he’d hit a home run. “My favorite.”

“Seriously?” He was surprised how happy it made him to see her so pleased. Narrowing
his eyes, he examined his handiwork on the first stick.

“Absolutely.” She picked up the second stick and handed it to him, then took the first
one and propped it by the chair. “Baseball, hot dogs…I’m sort of lukewarm on the apple
pie.”

“What?” He scrunched his face. “That’s un-American.”

“No, I mean it’s okay once in a while, but between you and me…” She clutched his arm,
stood on her tiptoes, and whispered in his ear, “I’ve been tempted by other flavors.”

The wisp of her breath in his ear sent warmth surging through him. “You know what
they say about variety,” he teased.

“My best friend Paige owns a pie shop—well, a bakery—so I get to try some really good
ones.”

“No one makes ’em like my grandma.”

“Aw. I remember you saying she made pies from the wild blackberries you picked. Is
she still around?” Liza asked tentatively.

Cole’s heart hitched. Why had he even mentioned his grandma, and how had Liza even
remembered what he’d told her about the blackberries? He stopped whittling and shook
his head. “No. And I really miss her. But I had her for twenty-one years. She pretty
much raised me…but you already knew that.”

Liza looked serious and sad, as if hearing about his loss had really affected her.
“I’m so sorry.” She gazed out over the pond for a long moment. “It’s so hard to lose
the people you love.” She shrugged slowly, the gesture somehow making her slim shoulders
look heavy. “When it comes down to it, there are so few people who truly know us.”
Her eyes glistened in the firelight. “When one of them goes, you can never replace
them.”

A log shifted in the fire, spitting sparks into the air. Liza smiled wanly, then turned
and opened the picnic basket, making herself busy. He finished up his whittling job,
trying to get his bearings. She had totally switched up the game on him. Considering
the number of women he’d dated, he thought he’d seen everything. But she was showing
him something completely different, and he didn’t quite know how to handle it.

Liza got out all the fixings for the hot dogs, and he grabbed the foil-wrapped buns,
nestling them near the fire where they’d get warm. His stomach growled loudly. He
quickly flattened his hand across it and glanced at Liza.

“We need to get you fed,” she said, reminding him of another thing his grandma used
to say.

Cole handed her a stick, blond for several inches on the end and finely pointed, if
he did say so himself. “Believe me, this upscale dinner will be worth the wait.” He
tore open the packet of hot dogs and presented them to her. “First course.”

She pinched a hot dog between her index finger and thumb, pulled it out of the packet,
and stabbed it straight through the middle. It drooped on both ends, and she gave
it a forlorn look that made him laugh.

He raised his eyebrows. “I guess it’s safe to say you weren’t a Girl Scout.”

She shook her head, laughing at herself—another thing he liked about her.

“You might not want to cook it that way.” He took out another hot dog, skewered it
in the end and through its center, and traded sticks with her. “You don’t want to
lose your wiener in the fire.”

She grinned and reoriented the hot dog on his stick. Satisfied, she said, “Let’s cook,
now that we’ve got our wieners straight.”

He busted out laughing again.

They sat on the edges of the chairs, hot dogs roasting in the flames. Darkness had
fallen, crickets chirped, and stars sparkled in the sky. Everything seemed idyllic,
including Cole’s growing desire to touch her. And despite feeling guilty about Frank’s
plan, he had to move things along if it was going to work. He reached over and took
her hand, but moments after he touched her, she jerked it away, yanking her stick
from the flames and jumping to her feet. “My hot dog’s on fire!”

She waved it in the air until the flames died and left the charred and blistered hot
dog sizzling and popping. Looking defeated, she sank onto the arm of the chair. “Did
I mention I’m not much of a cook?”

Cole couldn’t help but smile. “You didn’t really have to.”

She swatted his arm playfully. “What you see is what you get.”

Cole couldn’t hope for much more. Even so, he wondered whether he would still be holding
her hand if her hot dog hadn’t burst into flames. He switched sticks with her and
loaded his up again.

They sipped beer and ate hot dogs and chips, kicked back in their chairs. The conversation
was easy, and mostly about baseball. Cole was amazed how much she knew about the game,
even considering her pedigree. Most of the women he dated didn’t know the difference
between an ERA and an RBI, but Liza could quote stats for every one of the Orioles
and a lot of the Nats, too—including his. He was feeling kind of hopeful after that.
Hopeful enough to celebrate with s’mores.

“Better job with the marshmallows,” he said as she pulled them away from the flames,
expertly browned. “No extinguisher required.” He grinned.

“I’m teachable,” she said as they stacked up their s’mores. She took an enthusiastic
bite, and oozing chocolate and melted marshmallow squished out at the corner of her
mouth. Staring at the fire, she slowly licked her lips, lingering where the chocolate
and marshmallow had been. The firelight lit her face and danced in her eyes. Cole
watched intently, shifting in his seat as pressure built inside him.

The girl was all over the ballpark, but he definitely wanted to kiss her.

Chapter Four

The fire burned low, and Liza stared at the nearly full moon that had risen in the
sky. Relaxed in her chair—despite the Nationals cushion—she glanced at Cole. After
they’d finished eating, he had casually reached for her hand and hadn’t let go since.
Not that she wanted him to. He kept skimming his fingers slowly across hers and tracing
circles in her palm. No doubt he could seduce a woman with that technique alone. “You
have a game tomorrow, right?” she asked.

He smiled, his eyes dancing with excitement. “One step closer to the division title,
then the pennant, then the World Series.”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, mister,” she teased. “Other teams have that
same strategy in mind.”

“It’s going to happen, so I’ll start consoling you now.” He leaned forward in his
chair and faced her, looking twelve kinds of sexy by the fire. She tensed, thinking
he was going to make a move, which both thrilled and terrified her. It had been so
long, and she wasn’t sure she was ready. But he made a goofy face instead and cocked
his head. “Poor Liza,” he said, doing a pretty good imitation of Eeyore.

She laughed and shook her head. “We’ll see. One game at a time. The Os will be in
the Series.” She tipped up her chin proudly. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

She realized she was in a perfect position for him to kiss her, and her heart thumped
so hard she was afraid he might hear it. Cole gazed at her a moment with a look she
couldn’t read and squeezed her hand tightly. “This has been fun.” She stared at his
perfect mouth and thought about how incredible it would feel to have those lip on
hers—just as she had when she was sixteen. “But it’s getting kind of late. Guess I’d
better call Mack.”

Her heart sank with disappointment and relief—if that were even possible. He probably
had no idea what was appropriate to do on a charity auction date, either. “Good idea.”

They leisurely packed their gear. Mack got there quickly, and Liza wondered where
he’d been all this time. She hated to think he’d been parked down near the barn, hanging
out by himself, just waiting for them to call. But he seemed to be in good spirits
when he arrived.

She and Cole climbed onto the trailer and sat close in the sweet-smelling hay, and
he casually tossed a blanket over their legs. Mack started the truck and they headed
back toward the barn.

“The s’mores were my favorite,” Liza said, more bummed than she thought she’d be that
their date was nearly over.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I thought the hot dogs were pretty good. At least your second
one was. Not even the vultures would eat that first one.”

“I told you I’m not much of a cook.” She propped her elbow on the hay bale next to
her. “But I can make a mean tiki torch with a flaming hot dog on a stick. Martha Stewart
would have to give me some credit for that. I mean, as hard as it is to imagine, isn’t
there something you’re just not good at?”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his forehead. “No.” He grinned and she nudged him with her elbow.

“Aw, come on. You’re good at
everything
?”

He nodded. “And I have specialties.”

Oh my…
She was sure he did.

“He can’t sing,” Mack shouted from inside the truck. His windows were down, but Liza
had no idea he could hear them.

“You can’t sing?” she asked teasingly.

“I can,” he said, “just not very well.”

“Nice to know you aren’t totally perfect.” She nodded. “And a good thing you wanted
to be a baseball player instead of a rock star, huh?”

“Thanks, Mack,” Cole yelled playfully.

“Anytime.”

Liza had calmed down little by little since Cole had casually blindsided her with
Wes’s special words…
just right
. But after that, the evening
had
been just right, with the hayride and the sunset and dinner by the campfire under
the stars. There was still some of that teenage guy she’d had a crush on under Cole’s
All-Star persona. She’d think a little differently of him next time she saw him on
E!
.

The truck took the last bend before the barn, then came to an abrupt stop. Mack got
out and hurried around to the side of the trailer. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Cole lowered his eyebrows and glanced at Liza, then got up and joined Mack, both of
them looking toward the barn. She stood in the trailer and got a view over the cab
of the truck. Artificial light radiated from the far side of the barn, illuminating
the rear of a television news van and several other vehicles.

“Reporters,” Cole said flatly.

Liza’s stomach clenched. “All the way out here?” She was amazed they’d be interested
in Cole’s date with
her
. “Want to try another way out?” Cole asked Mack.

The crease between Mack’s eyes deepened and he shook his head. “Not a good idea to
go headin’ down some makeshift road without a little daylight. It’d be like runnin’
down a rabbit hole.”

“We could wait them out,” Cole said. “But they’ve spotted our headlights by now. I’m
sorry, Liza.” He shifted his gaze between her and Mack.

“It’s not your fault,” she said anxiously. She wasn’t big on being in front of a camera.

Cole leaped up onto the trailer, went to Liza, and gently put his hand on her shoulder.
He was all tense muscle and tousled hair, and he still smelled smoky from the fire.
“I didn’t want a bunch of reporters spoiling our date. I’d hoped to get some privacy
for a change.”

“It won’t be spoiled,” she said. Nothing could ruin the evening they’d had.

Cole nudged her shoulder and gave her a sidelong glance, looking perfect in the moonlight.

“So you’re up for a photo shoot?” He rubbed his hands together, seeming a little nervous
himself.

She figured they might get some positive press for BADD, and that would be good. Maybe
someone would see a news clip about the auction date and decide they wanted to donate.
Heck, maybe she could make a pitch—she was nearly that desperate to find a way to
meet her fund-raising goal. She shrugged and gave Cole a half smile. “Sure.”

“No way around it except to face ’em,” Mack said as he got back in the truck.

She and Cole sat on top of a hay bale and pulled the blanket over their knees. The
trailer swayed and bounced over the last bit of dirt road, Cole steadying Liza with
his arm around her. He turned toward her, pulled her close, tenderly kissed her on
the cheek, and spoke softly in her ear. “Thanks for being such a good sport about
this.” Feathery sensations fluttered through her, and she shivered.

“It’ll be fine,” she said, believing that it would.

Mack pulled the truck and trailer alongside the barn. Before Liza and Cole had time
to move, several reporters, cameramen, and photographers crowded behind the trailer.
Liza squinted against the flash and glare of the lights. A middle-aged female reporter—dressed
in a business suit and looking too city for an assignment on a farm—took the lead
with questions. “Cole,” she said, as if she knew him personally, “isn’t this the date
you donated to raise money for the BADD Athletes Foundation?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s a good cause. I hope more people will learn about the important
work BADD is doing to keep athletes drug-free.” He glanced at Liza. The corners of
his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes sparkled with the reflection of lights
from the cameras. “But I’m the one who benefited here. Look who I got to spend an
evening with.”

Liza swallowed hard, thinking it was awesome that he seemed proud to be with her,
and he’d pretty much made her donation pitch, too. She probably had a silly-looking
grin on her face, but she couldn’t help it.

The reporter piped up again. “I have it from a reliable source that you might be settling
down with Miss Sutherland.”

Liza’s grin flattened, and her heart raced double-time. What
reliable
source would’ve told the reporter that?

“Any truth to that rumor?” the reporter asked. “Inquiring women want to know.” Several
of the photographers chuckled.

Liza couldn’t believe they even had to ask. Cole wasn’t settling down—he probably
never would, and certainly not with her. She turned to him, hoping he had a clever
answer. He glanced at her with a glint in his eyes, then turned back to the reporters.
“Settling down is looking like a pretty good idea.”

Liza’s stomach clenched.
What?

“Should we expect a proposal soon?” another reporter asked. “I’d love to be there
for an exclusive on that.”

The flash of a camera highlighted the mischief in his eyes, and a wisp of a sexy smile
played across his lips. “It’ll probably go something like this,” he said with a drawl.
He faced Liza, skimmed his fingertips along her jawline, and guided her head until
she met his gaze.

Her mind swirled with confusion. All she could think was,
Please don’t kiss me here…now!
She frantically wondered how to react to him in front of these people—in front of
everyone, for that matter. Any stupid move she made would be captured on video and
posted on YouTube forever.

He leaned closer, and Liza braced herself.

“Will you marry me, darlin’?” he asked.

Liza’s heart lurched. Stunned speechless, she blinked several times, her pulse thrumming
in her ears. Cole tipped his head and whispered in her ear, “Just smile.” His warm
breath sent another shiver through her, and she smiled with sheer bewilderment. He
leaned back and tugged playfully on a lock of her hair, a crooked, coy grin on his
face.

After a beat, he faced the reporters and winked as the cameras clicked and whirred.
“That’s as close to an exclusive as I can give you.”

…

Cole was relieved that Liza had remained tight-lipped. He’d gotten caught up in the
moment, always eager to tease the reporters. Mack had immediately sensed trouble and
pulled the truck and trailer away from them. They continued calling out questions
as Cole and Liza disappeared up the road and out of view. The reporters had cleared
out from the farm pretty fast after that. Now he, Cole, and Liza weren’t far behind
them, back in the truck and headed to Baltimore.

“That was…pretty awkward,” Liza said, then bit her bottom lip. “I wasn’t expecting
something like that to happen.” Cole should’ve guessed that Frank would send the media,
but his strategy might’ve backfired. Things had been going pretty well between him
and Liza up until then, and he’d been feeling pretty confident about getting a second
date. After that, they’d be off and running with their so-called romance.

But Frank had sent the press in way too soon, and Cole had tried to wing it. Now that
he’d teased the reporters into thinking he wanted to settle down with Liza, he needed
her to play the part. Deep down, he
wanted
her to play the part. Besides, if he showed up with another girl anytime soon and
said the same thing, he’d ruin his credibility and the Nats would catch on to him.

Cole flexed his shoulders, trying to ease his tension. He’d faced some of the toughest
pitchers in major league baseball and hadn’t felt as knotted up as he did right now.
He looked at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mind the sports reporters, but the
others who are obsessed with my personal life get
too
personal. They claim they have ‘insider information�� that mostly comes from their
imagination, so it’s tiring dealing with that all the time.” He shrugged. “Sometimes
it’s so ridiculous I just have to go along and make fun of it. As if I’d want any
of them around when I did something as personal as propose.”

He watched her face in the darkness, looking for signs that she understood, but it
was hard to tell with the changing light and shadows.

After a while, she nodded. “I can understand how you feel about the reporters. They’d
probably get to me after a while, too. Asking if you were settling down
was
kind of ridiculous considering…”

Cole stiffened. “Considering what?” He knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear
her answer just the same.

“That you’re a player.” Man, she sure got straight to the point.

He sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t deny that.” He couldn’t say much more without
revealing more to her than he wanted to.

“There’s nothing wrong with it if it works for you,” she said, “especially since you’re
up-front about it. But I guess I’m a little more…traditional.”

Cole winced. He caught Mack’s eye in the rearview mirror. Just a glance told him Mack
didn’t envy his position but that he was there for him, as he had been for years.
He’d seen and heard a lot, and he knew a lot of secrets, but he’d never betrayed Cole’s
confidence.

“Since that’s your reputation,” she said, “none of what you did back there made sense.”

Cole didn’t like where this was going, and he hated that they’d lost that easy feeling
they’d had going after dinner back at the farm. “I can see how you’d be confused,”
he said. “But believe it or not, settling down is looking better to me all the time.”

She gave him a small smile. “Then I hope you find someone to settle down with, if
that’s what you really want. But I just got caught in the middle of something that
I’m not even involved in. Who knows what those reporters are going to do with that
news, whether it’s true or not.”

Cole furrowed his brow. Plan or no plan, he really wanted to make things right with
her.

He looked out the window and got his bearings. They were just minutes from Liza’s
condo, and soon she would be gone. Whatever he was going to do to save this situation,
he had to do it now.

“I really screwed up.” He rested his head in his hand for a second, then dragged his
fingers down his face. “It wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made back there.” He
risked taking her hand and she didn’t pull away. It occurred to him that this might
be the last chance he’d have to touch her, and he started to panic a little, surprising
himself. “I really had fun tonight, and I’d like to go out with you again. Maybe we
can pick up where we left off before—” He tipped his head back in the direction of
the farm. “All that.” He brought her hand to his mouth and lightly kissed her palm.