Clara followed Maisie’s gaze to find Amelia talking to a male reporter, who stood next to Sullivan. Her breath quickened. He’d always looked good in worn blue jeans and a T-shirt, but the black T-shirt and baseball hat both had a Three Chicks Brewery logo. He looked hot as he spoke to a female reporter and said into the microphone, “It’s all very simple. I needed a break, and I’m taking that break at home. I have no intention of making the mistakes I’ve made in the past again. When my suspension is over, I’ll be back and ready to play harder than ever.”
“Anything you want to say to your fans?” the reporter asked.
Sullivan paused, his gaze meeting Clara’s for a moment before he looked directly into the camera. “I’m sorry for my disappointing behavior. While I’m human and make mistakes, I’ll do better going forward.”
The interview ended with a few more questions, but Clara couldn’t take her eyes off Sullivan. She didn’t really know this man. Confident, determined, and centered—he’d been a twenty-one-year old kid when he left, and a total me
ss too.
Breaking into the silence, Maisie said, “All right, I’ve got to get to the studio, but see you tonight for dinner. Thank Sullivan for me. This was amazing exposure for us.”
Clara still couldn’t look away from Sullivan as his gaze fixed on her too. “Yeah, okay, bye,” she said, without looking Maisie’s way.
She swore she heard Maisie’s laughter, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away as Sullivan said his goodbyes to the news crew and made his way over. “What is happening?” she asked, trying to understand.
He lifted one shoulder. “My agent called and asked to set up an interview, since the press has been on me. I figured getting the brewery some free press would only benefit you. Have I overstepped?”
“Um, no,” she said, finally finding her senses. “This was…Sullivan, you didn’t have to do this for us.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “I know, but I wanted to.”
“Well…thank you,” she said, and the business part of her mind was smiling from ear to ear. Sullivan was famous. Companies paid him hundreds of thousands of dollars to wear their brands. And he’d done this for free. The extra exposure could also help her negotiate better contract terms with the distributors. “I mean it, thank you. You were right; this will definitely benefit us.”
“Good.” A warm, infectious smile crossed his face. “I’m happy to do it.”
With the news crew packing up, Amelia approached. “Okay, that was just cool. Again, Sullivan, thank you.”
“Anytime,” he said as if this meant nothing. “Whatever I can do to help with this new venture, just ask.”
Amelia gave Clara a quick look that she couldn’t quite read before she addressed Sullivan again. “Listen, tonight we’re grilling up some steaks for dinner. Hayes and Maisie are coming. Would you like to come too?”
His gaze swept to Clara, uncertainty in his expression.
Her mind stuttered for a moment. Every instinct inside her told her to say no. But, after what he’d done today and said last night, it was clear he was trying to do the right thing. And what better way to casually meet Mason than surrounded by all the people who loved him and would protect him as much as Clara would. “Yes, of course, you’re more than welcome. Nothing better than saying thank you with a big steak.”
“Okay, yeah,” he said, but hesitation showed on his face.
Clara understood. “Bring a baseball glove, all right? Mason already told me he hoped you’d play some ball with him.”
“All right.” He gave a soft smile. “I’ll bring a glove, then. What time?”
“Five thirty.”
“I’ll be here.”
He exchanged a quick goodbye with Amelia and then was on his way back to his truck.
“Sorry if that’s not what you wanted,” Amelia said once he was far enough away. “It just felt right after he did this for us today.”
“It does feel right.” Clara slid her arm through Amelia’s. “They have to meet at some point. Might as well be with everyone who loves Mason.”
Amelia chuckled. “So we can all kill him if he messes this up?”
“Precisely.” Clara grinned, giving Sullivan a wave as he drove off.
Sullivan had faced down some of the best players in baseball. He’d gone up against the toughest reporters. But this…eyes the same color as his mother’s watching him as he strode through the yard toward the picnic table, this was tougher. While Mason had Sullivan’s mother’s eyes, he could see Clara’s cleverness in there too. Especially when Sullivan handed her a bouquet of daisies—her favorite flower—and a bottle of red wine. “Thanks again for the invite,” he told her. His only plan earlier had been to begin to earn Clara’s trust back and show her that his heart was in the right place. He didn’t know how much he’d wanted the invite until they extended it. He was especially grateful when he saw Clara. She looked beautiful in the evening sun, but he suspected she’d prefer for him not to compliment her in front of Mason.
She sniffed the flowers then smiled. “Daisies. They’re beautiful. Thank you.” She gave Mason a quick look then gestured to the one person Sullivan didn’t know. “This is Luka, Amelia’s fiancé. Luka, this is Sullivan Keene.” Tall and dark-haired, Luka stuck out among them as someone who didn’t belong. He wore navy-blue slacks with a white dress shirt, making it obvious he worked in the city.