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“You helped the club make it there, and being injured wasn’t your fault.” I put the finishing touches on our meal as Ethan came back downstairs.

He brought the poster, along with a collection of Carter’s baseball cards. He spread them out on the table, and Carter sat down. Carter signed every one of them without complaint, examining each one as he did.

“This is my first ever card. Is it the one I gave you? It looks too new to be that old.” Carter handed a card to Ethan.

“I kept it in a collector’s sleeve to keep it safe. I collected all your cards, and Dad’s, and a couple of other players’. No one else has signed all their cards for me, though.”

Not even Chad. It still pissed me off that he’d “forgotten” to autograph a couple of Ethan’s cards just because they were from years when his record sucked and he was embarrassed. Carter didn’t say anything, didn’t even let on that he realized what Ethan had said, and for that I was thankful.

“I’ve done them all, but now when you get your rookie-of-the-year card, you have to sign one for me in return. Deal?” Carter stuck out his hand.

Ethan shook it solemnly. “Deal.”

“Until you make rookie-of-the-year, you still have chores to do. Can you set the table, please?” I pulled the food out of the oven and began slicing the bread.

As I worked, I mentally rehearsed my pitch. I needed Carter to agree to move in, at least until Chad found somewhere else to live. Once he had either found a rental or left town, Carter would be free to do whatever he wanted. And if the idea of sharing my space with a man I found more attractive than I expected to was awkward, I’d get over it.

Ethan monopolized Carter’s attention during dinner, grilling him about what his life had been like playing in different cities. I’d divorced Chad when Ethan was twelve, and the only team he remembered his father playing for was Texas. Chad had spent his entire major league career playing for Texas. Carter had played on a few different teams after Texas and could give Ethan a feel for club dynamics, coaches, manager styles, and things Chad hadn’t experienced.

Allowing Ethan to direct the conversation was not me avoiding asking Carter to move in. Nope. I didn’t avoid tough conversations anymore. At least not as often as I used to.

I wanted to talk to Carter privately. If he said yes, then I’d tell Ethan. If he said no, Ethan never had to know, and I’d work twice as hard to find another renter before Chad found out. I did not want him here, and I could tell him that over and over, but when he wanted something, he was relentless. It had served him well when he was working his way up in baseball. It was less desirable in our marriage. I was better about telling him no and meaning it, but I wouldn’t put it past him to ask his parents to pressure me to let him move in. I loved his parents, but they were blind to what an absolute ass Chad could be sometimes.

When we finished eating, Ethan went upstairs to study for a chemistry test. As Carter and I sat sipping our wine, it was the perfect time to make my request. “So . . .”

Carter stretched in his chair, looking totally relaxed. “So. Want to explain why the skipper thinks I’m moving in with you?”

I sat up straighter. How had the manager of the Fliers found out before I’d even talked to Carter? It wasn’t as if Chad and Wally were friends. But Wally was friends with Eldon Templeton, and if Chad had told his parents . . . damn small-town grapevine. Everyone knew everyone’s business.

Not that it mattered that Wally knew, unless Carter had denied it. My little white lie could have unravelled before I even got Carter to agree to my outrageous plan. “Wally heard already? Gossip travels fast around here, but this might be a record.”

Carter cocked an eyebrow. “Wally asked me about it, and because of your message, I didn’t deny it. Do you mind telling me why you told people I’m moving in here?”

Taking another sip of wine for a little liquid courage, I plunged forward. “Chad is in town. He was waiting on my porch when I got back from the event at the park. He needs a place to stay since his parents sold their house and moved into an independent living facility, and he expected me to let him stay here. He knew I was trying to rent out my spare room, and expected me to let him have it. You know him. He never takes no for an answer. He would have found some way to pressure me to let him move in. So I lied. I told him I’d already found someone. He refused to believe I’d allow a stranger to move in, because of Ethan. You were the first person I could think of who Chad would believe I rented the room to without running a background check. I’m sorry if it causes you any trouble.”

By the time I was done, my cheeks were heated and a trickle of sweat was rolling slowly down the back of my neck. I stared down at the wine I was swirling around in my glass. I was prepared for Carter to say no. Expecting it, really. He wouldn’t want to get mixed up in my messy family dynamics.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Carter’s lips twitch. I glanced up, sure he was laughing at me. Instead, he looked interested. A cautious spark of hope sprang to life.

“You told Chad I was living with you? And my going along with it will annoy him? Count me in.”

Shock at his agreement gave way to gratitude. I tore my gaze from the ruby-red wine to find his eyes glittering with amusement. “You mean it? You’ll move in temporarily?”

Carter shrugged, and the white linen of his shirt tightened over his shoulders, emphasizing again just how fit he was. “Once I check in, my current address is the Holiday Inn. This is already better than that. I haven’t even started looking for a rental, and I’ll be on the road half the season. Why not stay here, if it will help you out?”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Chad says he’s back for good, to help his dad, but I’m sure he’ll take off as soon as he can. You won’t have to stay for long.” My words tumbled out in a rush, and if I felt a little bit of pleasure at the idea of having Carter around? I was only human, and he was easy on the eyes.

Carter’s brow wrinkled, and he shook his head. “He may be here longer than you think. It sounds like he may be out of baseball for good. I heard he’s being banned because of betting on games. It’s only a rumour, but if it’s true, no team will touch him. Not even for broadcasting.”

I sucked in a breath as dread made my heart race. Chad had been fired because he was betting on games? The dread quickly morphed into anger. Chad had always gambled, but he had kept it confined to hockey and football. At least he had when he was playing, and we were together. After I left him, I stopped caring about what he did. Now, though, if he was back in town because he had no other options, it was going to be my problem again. Chad always found a way to make his problems mine too.

“Well, fuck. I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said he was broke. He claimed it was his last divorce settlement and bad investments. I guess sports bets are bad investments now?” I snorted. Chad had never had any impulse control. The disintegration of our marriage in the unflinching gaze of social media had proved that.

“I think you owe the swear jar for that,” Carter said.

I laughed, Carter’s teasing reducing my frustration a notch. “I’ll owe it a lot more if Chad’s here permanently. How did you find out?”

Carter sobered. “I heard this afternoon. Like I said, it’s still rumour, but I trust who I heard it from.”