Free Fair Play by Tracy A. Ward Page B

you’re not calling me for one of your improv scenes, Wheels.”
    “Not this time. I need to blow off some frustration and since you’re the one to blame—”
    “Aren’t I always? But now’s really not a good time.”
    “Doesn’t matter if it’s a good time for you. It’s a good time for me. Meet me at the batting cages. At the far end of Live Oak Park, where Main Street dead ends into County.”
    Noah didn’t respond. Instead, I heard clicking in the background. The jerk was typing on his computer, not listening. Not cool.
    I pulled out my ace. “If you don’t come, I’m going to look for Kyle Pritchard. Alone.”
    The clicking stopped. “I’ll be there in thirty.”
    “I’m not kidding, Noah. My patience ends in twenty.”
    Noah arrived in ten.
    Tired of being cooped up in the car, I’d moved to sit on the ground in the shade. Learning Kyle Pritchard was in town ate at my gut. Discovering he was a festival judge had me freaked. And that Noah kept that particular tidbit from me as a way of protecting me had me seeing red.
    With Kyle as a judge of the Phair Theater Festival, there was more at stake than ever. I couldn’t trust he wouldn’t be manipulative again and give us a bad review. Because spending time with Noah had resulted in such success with the script, it was imperative we stick to Lucas’s original course. Once I convinced Noah that we weren’t done pretending to be Caroline and Andy Rich, we’d deal with the issue of Kyle Pritchard.
    But for now, first things first.
    Noah eyed me cautiously, like he wasn’t sure how to act when I didn’t immediately unload on him about Kyle. But I remained calm to keep him off the defensive. That was the only way to get to the real reason behind why he’d kept the information from me.
    He closed the door of his Porsche 911 Turbo, walked around to his popped trunk, and pulled out a bat bag that appeared to be a relic, circa The Natural . It even looked like it smelled bad.
    “You still have that old thing?” I asked.
    “Would you give up an original Rogers and Hammerstein playbill?”
    I wrinkled my nose. “I’d burn it if it had that odor. I’m afraid to ask how many pairs of athletic socks died in there.”
    “If I’m lucky, I might have a spare to gag you with.”
    “Handcuffs and now gags,” I said, shaking my head.
    “Hiding how you want to tear my head off under a veil of light-hearted banter isn’t your normal MO, Wheels. I knew Pritchard was in town and didn’t tell you. I don’t know how you found out, but I understand why you’re pissed.” Noah dropped the bag by his feet, but kept his body shielded by the open trunk. “If I had it to do all over again, though, I wouldn’t have done it any different. So forgive me if I don’t apologize.”
    Even now, after everything he’d done, the heat of Noah’s stare pulsed through me as desire for him made my legs feel unsteady when I stood. Deliberately, I took my time dusting off my rear end. “And The Patron Saint of Assholes is back and in rare form. You are one arrogant jerk, aren’t you?”
    Seemingly unaffected, he gently closed the trunk and bent to pull a glove from his bag. He tossed it my direction. “If the only reason you called me out here was to sling insults, you can blow off steam without me. I have more important things to attend to.”
    Leaning over, I picked up the five-gallon bucket of softballs I’d rented. Without watching to see if he followed me, I headed for the batting cage, calling over my shoulder, “I can’t exactly blow anything all by myself.”
    For the briefest moment he hesitated in his stride. “If I were you, I’d tread carefully, Wheels, or you might find yourself in a situation you can’t handle.”
    Shame made my stomach queasy and brought heat to my face. “Is that what you think happened? You think I toyed with Kyle Pritchard, led him on in some way?”
    Noah stopped just as we reached the outside of the cage. His face softened.