The Best Mistake - Cookie O'Gorman Page 0,32

And no wonder. I was being interviewed as well. I just hadn’t known it. “And Archer…he told you all this?”

She scoffed. “As if. He never tells me anything about his love life. Good Lord, girl, no. I got the info from my daughter Emmy. My son Baylor may have mentioned something, too.”

I closed my eyes.

“It was just a surprise. Archer’s usually so guarded, doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve,” she added. “He’s nearly as bad as Dex in that way. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before, but I wanted to get to know you for myself.”

Opening my eyes, I met her steady gaze. “I understand. You’re just being a good mom.”

“Exactly.”

“So, what do you think? Are my intentions honorable?”

She tilted her head as I waited.

“I think so,” she said. “Though we’ll have to do something about the whole not-a-baseball-fan thing. You still need to interview my sons, correct?”

“Yes, I was hoping to come to practice again, and—”

“Why not come to a game?”

Startled, I looked up. “What?”

She shrugged. “For that matter, why not travel with us a bit this season? You’re obviously not a… What did you call it again? Oh yeah, a baseball bunny. That’s a good one. I’ll have to use it sometime.”

She threw me a smile, and I smiled back.

“If you come on the road with us, you’d get to see what baseball is all about, get to spend more time with the team, get to know my boys better and question them at your leisure.”

“Sounds good,” I said carefully. “But are you sure you’re okay with that? Me, traveling with the team?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she said. “Students from the physical therapy track travel with us sometimes. I want the stories you write about us to be the best that they can be.”

“Well, thanks,” I said. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

“Great.” She stood and came around her desk to meet me on the other side. “In the meantime, I’ll send you the game schedule. Look it over and let me know.”

“Awesome, thanks again for the interview, Mrs. O’Brien. It was so nice meeting you.”

As we stopped at the door, she turned to me and said, “It was nice meeting you, too, Honor. I look forward to seeing more of you.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Shoot,” she said.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to ask the question that had been on my mind. “You never asked why I said no to Archer, but you invited me to travel with you guys. No offense, Mrs. O’Brien, but you’re not trying to play matchmaker. Are you?”

“Honor, I’m a coach and a mom,” she said. “Not a matchmaker.”

“Oh my gosh, I know.” Embarrassment washed over me like a wave. I felt like a fool for even asking. “I’m so sorry. Please just forget it.”

She nodded graciously. “That’s okay,” she said. “My reason for inviting you is simple. I just want you to be able to experience the romance of baseball.”

As she shut her door, I walked away in a daze. Her last words played on repeat in my head, the implications anything but simple—and was I dreaming or had there been a twinkle in her eye when she’d said romance? The whole interview was interesting to say the least. It hadn’t taken long, lasted only about 45 minutes, but all together, her answers would make one heck of an article.

Looking through my notes, my mind was so caught up that I wasn’t even looking where I was going.

That’s probably why, just as I turned the corner, I ran headfirst into a solid wall of muscle.

Or to be accurate, it ran into me.

Surprised, I stumbled backward, losing my balance, and the wall grunted. Strong arms banded around my waist a second later, pulling me in before I could fall. My trajectory suddenly changed, and the next thing I knew I was pressed up against a warm body.

A very big, fit body.

Looking up slowly, my eyes traveled over a broad chest…a very nice neck…an angular chin…paused briefly on a familiar frown…and finally met a pair of gorgeous gray eyes.

“Archer,” I said, my voice far more breathy than I’d intended.

“Honor.” He nodded then groaned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, still wearing a frown. “Just hit my head on the wall when I saved you.”

“Saved me? Guess that’s one way to put it.” Smiling, I reached up to run my hand along the back of his head. I was very gentle, watching for even the slightest sign