Read Online Covering Home by Heidi McCahan - Free Book Online Page B

I’d get my dander up, too.”
    Britt did a double-take. “Did you say, ‘Get my dander up’? Is that Wyoming for ‘ticked off’?”
    Ben smiled. “Yep.”
    “I wish he’d give us a few minutes, offer his perspective on tonight’s outing. That’s the kind of the thing our fans back in the States want to hear.”
    “Maybe I can help you out,” Ben said.
    “If this is what you call helping, I’d rather figure this out on my own.”
    “Point taken. But I’m still his twin brother, the only one who knows what really goes on inside that head of his. Believe it or not, my intentions are good.”
    Britt massaged the dull ache forming at her temple. Marne was going to go ballistic if she didn’t come up with something quick. There was a story here, she could feel it. Dragging it out of Caleb didn’t appear to be an option, so she was forced to beat him at his own game: using his decoy as her ally.
    Here went nothing.
    “All right, then. Talk to me, oh wise one. How will Caleb recover from tonight’s disappointing loss?”

    “No way.” Caleb zipped his duffel bag shut and glared at Aaron.
    “Look, I know you’re upset. I don’t blame you. But they’re waiting for you.” Aaron took off his uniform top and tossed it into his locker.
    “Whatever. Tell them to go talk to Kenny, their hometown boy.”
    “You can be bitter and sarcastic, man. That’s cool. But you should still go out there.”
    Caleb shouldered his bag. “Were you watching the same game I was? I’m talking about the star of the show, Kentaro Hashimoto. In case you missed it, he hit a three-run homer in the ninth inning.”
    Aaron stood his ground. “But you struck him out. Twice. The Japanese like to talk at length about technique. Most of their questions will be about your training and preparation.”
    “No, they won’t. Because there won’t be any questions.” Caleb brushed by him and out of the locker room. The tunnel was almost empty, except for a few players coming off the field to hit the showers. He caught a glimpse of reporters fanned out around a Senators player standing on a make-shift podium, smiling and gesturing to his audience. Hashimoto. Caleb turned and headed for the exit.
    Outside on the plaza surrounding the Tokyo Dome, people moved in the general direction of the train station, eager to get home before the trains stopped running for the night. The briny scent of fish and seaweed—mixed with the familiar aroma of beer—hung in the air, hinting at the festive atmosphere that had presided over the plaza prior to the baseball game. Caleb readjusted his Phillies hat and fell into step behind a young couple.
    It was a short walk across the plaza to the hotel. He’d intentionally put on jeans and a black T-shirt after the game in an effort to look like every other American male in Tokyo. While he couldn’t blend in with the masses, surely he could go three minutes without signing an autograph.
    “Excuse me? You sign?” The young Japanese man asked with a timid smile.
    Then again, maybe not. Caleb stopped walking and took the pen and paper thrust at him. “Sure.”
    After he signed, Caleb passed the pen and paper back to the man.
    “Thank you,” the man said.
    “You’re welcome.” Switching his bag to the other shoulder, he made his way across the plaza.
    The entrance to the hotel was in his sights when he noticed a small crowd gathered near the revolving door. He stopped and watched, plotting his strategy to get inside unnoticed. A woman broke free from the group and waved, strutting toward him. “Oh, Caleb Scott. Is that you?”
    He froze. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He’d know that voice anywhere. “Hello, Lane.”
    “It is you. I knew it. Come on, give me hugs.” She pressed her tiny body against him, craning her neck to air kiss both cheeks. Lane was every inch the Hollywood actress in her towering high heels, black leather pants, and sequined tank top. Pulling back, her sweet