Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Ben sat on his balcony, feet propped on the railing, and allowed himself to relax. The moon on the water was beautiful, peaceful, and he never minded being alone. Still, he kept glancing at the balcony next to his, waiting for Molly to appear.

The bachelor party, arranged by Tristan’s older brother and best man, was probably still in full swing at the bar down the road. Tristan had been clear: No strippers. His brother hadn’t taken that instruction seriously. Ben had made an appearance, had one drink, and then slipped out. No one would miss him. If they did, who cared?

He’d managed to ask Tristan again about the prenup and once again he’d been roundly rejected.

If the happy couple was meant to be together, if they had nothing but a long and happy life ahead of them, then what difference would it make? None. But if it turned out Natalie wasn’t the woman Tristan thought she was…

Been there, done that. He’d been lucky that his own divorce had happened before he’d made it big. He’d moved up and down from the AAA team to the majors and back again several times that year.

His success hadn’t come fast enough for Kayla so she’d traded him in for a second baseman with a bigger contract. He didn’t love her anymore, maybe he never had, but thinking about that time in his life still hurt. He should be over it by now. Would he ever be over it ? Playing ball was so much easier. When it came to people, women in particular, he questioned every decision.

The sliding door to Molly’s room opened and she stepped outside. Her gaze was on the water, and then on him.

“I thought you’d still be partying,” she said.

“I’d had enough. You?”

“I’m not much of a party girl,” she said, and then she sat.

“How was it?”

Molly laughed in response, then said, “Interesting, I suppose. At least I got a chance to talk to Nat.”

He had a mental image of the two women as girls, Molly with her red hair and dark-haired Natalie, playing with dolls, on the playground, riding their bikes. Then a little older, reading books and working on school projects together, giggling, still riding their bikes all over the neighborhood. If he hadn’t moved away at the age of twelve, what other memories might he have?

“Does she love him?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them.

Molly stood and moved to the edge of the balcony to face him. He could swear he felt her stare. “That’s an odd question. Of course she loves him.”

“There is no of course .” He stood and moved to the edge of the railing to face her, as they had last night. “Tristan has made a lot of money and will make more in the next few years. How do you know that doesn’t play a part in her decision to marry him?”

“I guess I can’t know ,” she admitted. “How can we ever know what someone else is thinking? But when I asked her about Tristan she said he was kind and sweet. She said he made her laugh. Did you know she wanted to elope? This lavish wedding was Tristan’s mother’s idea.”

He made a noise low in his throat, like an old man’s harumph.

“I’ve been trying to convince Tristan to insist that Natalie sign a prenup. Shit, I guess it’s too late anyway.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Molly whispered.

“I don’t think so but it’s always possible.”

She gave a little huff of disgust. “One, it’s none of your business. Two, yes, it’s too late!”

“A prenup is practical,” he argued.

“And very unromantic.”

“Romance is for suckers.”

She didn’t have an immediate response for that. Maybe he should’ve kept that thought to himself.

Moonlight glinted on something on her chest. He moved closer, trying to find a way to change the subject. “What’s that?” He couldn’t touch her from here. Almost, but not quite. He pointed.

Molly reached down, saw what he was looking at, and muttered a curse word. She grabbed the shiny thing with two fingers, pulled it loose, then quickly stuffed it in the pocket of her dress. “Just a souvenir of the evening,” she said.

She’d moved fast, but not fast enough. He recognized the condom she tried to hide. “Looks like the bride’s party was more exciting than the groom’s.”

“I guess exciting is one word for it,” she said softly.

If the balconies were just a little bit closer he could make it across, and at that moment he thought about it. Molly had no idea how tempting she was. In the moonlight with a gentle breeze in her hair, in that dress, with a condom in her pocket…

Back to the internet she went. How could she not? She and Ben were supposed to be engaged, but she was completely in the dark about his divorce. If she was going to pull this fake relationship off and do it well more information was needed. What had he done? What had his ex-wife done?

Romance is for suckers , he’d said. Her own track record in that department wasn’t exactly great, but that didn’t mean she’d written off the chance that one day love would come her way. Real forever love, the right man, a connection that didn’t fade with time.

The information wasn’t easy to find, and along the way she gave in to the temptation to watch a few clips of Ben Crusher on the field and at home plate. Maybe she didn’t watch baseball, but that didn’t mean she was entirely ignorant about the game. He was good, maybe even great. She watched him make a few impressive catches in the outfield and take a couple home run swings, and then…

She watched him get hit in the face with a hundred mile an hour fast ball and drop to the ground.

That ball-in-the-nose incident had happened years ago, and still her heart dropped and her stomach churned. He could’ve been killed! The video started to automatically replay and she scrolled down as fast as she could. She did not want to see that again.

After a while she wondered if he ever thought about changing his name to Smith. There were so many plays on his name! Crusher Crushes It. A Crushing Defeat. When he’d played for a team who wore orange, some called him The Orange Crush. And on and on. It was a bit much.

Several pages in, she found mention of his ex. It was a fan post, not an official story. If it was true, and considering the source that wasn’t a given, she’d left him for a more successful player. At the time Ben had been up and down from the minors to the majors, and it could be assumed his baseball career wasn’t yet solidified. The ex’s new husband had been a star.

No wonder Ben didn’t believe in romance!

That was enough for tonight. It had been a long day, and she needed a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow there would be another brunch, then later in the day the rehearsal and dinner after.

Molly hung her dress in the closet and pulled on her pajamas. Her mom had given them to her last year for Christmas. They were flannel and too warm for Florida, but it wasn’t like the air conditioning didn’t work. When else was she going to wear PJs with dancing red and green elves on them?

She crawled into bed and reached over to turn off the light but instead grabbed her phone and sat up with her back against the headboard. If these rooms were mirrored, as she suspected, the headboard of Ben’s bed, and maybe Ben, were just on the other side of the wall.

Her thumbs flew; she was a fast texter.

You were hit in the face!

Ben

I was.

Did it hurt?

Hell yes!

You need a safer job.

Such as?

This hotel could use a night bellman.

I’ll think about it. Goodnight, Molly.

Night, Benjy.

Romance isn’t for suckers.

Those three dots, blinking. Was he typing in a response or just watching?

Just watching. The three dots went away and the phone remained silent.