Page 11 of Scoring in Cedarwood

“I don’t know what to think.” Dane leaned back in his chair. The springs squeaked. He wasn’t ready to admit he’d overthought, assumed and hoped more was possible than Tanner could give.

“Well…shit.” Hammell pocketed his phone. “I’m sorry I assumed you’d kind of figured out he was gay and interested. Do you get the vibe there’s a chance?”

“No.” He hadn’t spent much time around Tanner, but still.

“Then see if you can be friends. Maybe he has someone he knows might be interested. You could double date.”

“I doubt it.”

“See? That’s the negative thing you’ve got to stop doing.” Hammell stared at him. “Go home. Make a friend. You’re living together for the next few months, right? You’re better off being civil and possibly friendly than not running into each other at all.”

Hammell had another point. Dane opened his laptop long enough to log out then pushed away from his desk. He turned off the lamp. He said nothing as he tucked his papers and tablet into his messenger bag. “I’m leaving, then.” He slid his phone into the front flap of the bag and patted his pocket for his keys. “I’ve got everything and your message has been received. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“There you go. This is what you need.” Hammell followed him out of the office space. “Hang out with your player.”

“Foxy?” The name didn’t fit the Tanner he knew.

“Yeah. Find out if he lives up to the name.”

“If you and I weren’t friends, I’d hate you for that comment,” Dane said.

“I know, but you don’t hate me.” Hammell laughed. “Get out of here.”

“Doing that now.” Dane left the building and stepped into the night air. The leaves had filled out on the trees. A light wind wrapped around him. He missed having afternoons to himself. No, he missed having someone to come home to after a long day at the office. He checked the app Devlin had conned him into installing on his phone earlier in the day. According to the application, he’d know where Tanner was at all times—at least at the ballfield. He tapped Tanner’s name. A photo of Tanner appeared on the screen, then a camera view of Tanner at batting practice.

His mouth watered. He’d seen guys in baseball uniforms before, but none of them filled out the suit the way Tanner did. The tight fabric showed off his muscle and long legs. Each time Tanner glanced back at the camera and grinned, Dane swore he was mugging for the viewer.Is he?

Part of him wanted to consider Tanner might be smiling for him. Who else could see the video? He didn’t know. The rest of Dane doubted Tanner cared. The man had to live up to his public persona and impress. He hadn’t been dubbedFoxyfor nothing.

Dane groaned and closed the app. The longer he watched Tanner at batting practice, the more he’d embarrass himself. He rubbed the growing bulge in his trousers. He’d gotten a damn erection from observing Tanner at work. He put his phone in the console then stuffed the key into the ignition. He should go home.

The more he thought about Tanner and what he’d seen, a few issues came to mind. Once he got home, he’d have to ask Tanner some questions. According to the calendar, it was already the middle of June. Didn’t training for the new season start in April? Spring training? Why hadn’t Tanner joined the team before now? Had he been traded? Why? Was any of this Dane’s business? Not really, but he wanted to know.

Dane drove across town but barely paid attention to the landscape. All he could see was the image of Tanner in those tight pants. He managed to pull into his driveway and parked in the garage. No fans. He’d expected to see people milling around the hedges surrounding his home—if Tanner was so popular, wouldn’t there be fans waiting for him? Maybe the fans were more civilized in Cedarwood. He closed the garage door. Silence enveloped him. Being home and in the blessed quiet centered Dane. He tended to overthink things. From his patients and their needs to his personal life—he considered all angles and outcomes before making a decision. The mentality worked great when treating his patients but lousy in his life outside the medical office.

Then Tanner had come along. He hadn’t seen Tanner before, yet he’d agreed to sponsor him. The choice had changed his life and he had no idea how different it would end up being, but he’d done it. No thought—just action. What had he been thinking?

The light came on, forcing him to blink. He’d been adjusted to the darkness. He frowned. What the hell? He noticed the figure at the window of the door into the mudroom.Tanner.He waved. Why not be polite?

Tanner pushed the door open. “Thought I heard you come in. Did you have a rough day?”

Dane left the car. “Not really.” He retrieved his bag from the passenger seat. “The flu is going around Cedarwood, a farmer broke his hand and another accidentally shot a nail into his shin. It’s rather routine stuff—save for the nail.” He shrugged. “I’m used to something new coming into the office every day.”

“A nail in his shin?” Tanner shrank back from Dane. “Really?”

“Most days I leave my work at the office, but you asked.” He headed into the house. “What brings you home so early? I thought you were at the stadium.”

“I was, but we’re done for the day.” Tanner followed him through the kitchen to the bar. “I saw your office. I never went in, but I stopped in the parking lot. I also visited the bookstore in town. The guys working there are nice. Are they brothers?”

Dane nodded. “Colin and Farin Baker. They opened it two years ago, I believe.” He carried his bag to his home office then returned to the kitchen. “Colin’s dating Officer Jordan Hargrove…for a year, I think. Farin, Colin’s brother, is seeing a teacher at the elementary school, Steve Moore. They’re all nice guys. Colin’s got a son, Gage, and Steve’s taking care of his baby sister, Genie.”

“Wow.” Tanner sank onto one of the bar stools. “So no one minds they’re gay?”

“People mind, but those four don’t pay them any attention. What those guys do isn’t anyone else’s business and they aren’t hurting anyone.” Dane rapped his knuckles on the counter. “I have the same mentality. I’m gay and I’m not hurting anyone. It shouldn’t matter that I’m gay or anything else.”

“No, it shouldn’t.” Tanner paused. “I investigated the house this afternoon. I’m in awe of the glass doors on your home office. Those are beautiful. Are they custom pieces?”

He hadn’t invited anyone over in so long, he’d forgotten the nuances of his house and how others might be impressed by his choices. “They are custom. I had a patient who worked in glass and wanted to thank me for giving him care. He and I had a deal. He fashioned the doors for my office and I helped treat his asthma.”

---