“Millions?”
He nodded as he rested his hand on her baby bump. “You should see the condo I’m leasing to own in Denver. It’ll be a great place to start a family.”
The minute Matt touched her stomach, the baby kicked. Meg gasped. “I think the Pea likes that.”
“Good, because so do I.” He paused. “I can’t promise I’ll always remember to let you make your own decisions, and I can’t promise I won’t be traded to another team when my contract with the Rockies comes up for renewal. What I can promise you is that I will always, always be there for you. Even if I’m away, I’ll move heaven and earth to be whatever you need me to be.”
Meg smiled. “Excitement-induced memory lapses notwithstanding?”
“That goes without saying. If the Rockies win the World Series, I might be too excited to remember my own name, let alone that I’m married to the most beautiful, talented woman in the Mountain West.”
She gave his arm a playful slug. “We’ll just have to make sure the Rockies don’t win the World Series, then. I’d hate for you to forget your own name.”
Matt chuckled. “I’m glad that’s settled. Now let’s go find Stan before he puts away a whole plate of cheese fries by himself.
“He wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, he would.”
They walked, hand in hand, to the restaurant. Stan was slouched in a corner booth, nursing a pinkish drink garnished with orange, pineapple and an umbrella while he munched on cheese fries from a half-empty plate.
He looked up when they approached. “About time you got here. Sit. Eat some of these fries before they all go straight to my hips.”
Starved, Meg was set to do just that. But Matt stopped her a few steps from the booth. “Aren’t you going to ask what took us so long?”
Stan shook his head. “You two had a lot to talk about.”
When he raised their entwined hands, Meg’s ring flashed in the dim light. Stan squealed and jumped up, tipping over what was left of his drink. He didn’t even notice. “Really? Congratulations, you two!”
“Thanks.” She signaled for the waiter to clean up the mess before it leached into the cheese fries. The rollercoaster of emotions, from apology to proposal, had made her ravenous.
She tried to take a seat in the booth, but the tabletop was anchored to the wall, and it was too close to the bench for her to squeeze in.
Matt noticed her dilemma, and when the waiter came over, he pointed to the other side of the room. “We’d like to move to that table over there.”
The waiter shrugged, which she took to mean he didn’t care where they sat in the not-crowded dining room. She grabbed the cheese fries and led the way.
Once they all three were seated, Stan restarted the conversation. “When are you two tying the knot?”
She exchanged a glance with Matt. She hadn’t thought of that. “Soon, I guess.”
He nodded. “Just as soon as we can.”
****
They were married two weeks later, in mid-August. The weather was beautiful for their ceremony on the steps of the Denver courthouse. Steph and Stan served as witnesses, and Greg hovered in the background, waiting for Stephanie to finish performing her maid-of-honor duties.
Matt sniggered just a little bit. Of all his Condors teammates, Greg wasn’t the one he’d expected to be at his wedding.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Matt obeyed, brushing his lips against Meg’s. When he pulled away, she fixed him with a glare.
“That’s not much of a kiss.” With that, she grabbed the lapels of his gray suit and pulled him to her. She kissed him so hard his toes curled in the too-small dress shoes he’d borrowed from Stan. Even with all his newfound wealth, he saw no reason to waste money on shoes he’d only wear once.
When she released him, Matt was still dazed. He stood there, silent, while Greg whistled at them. “The honeymoon starts later.”
Matt fervently wished that weren’t the case. But he and Meg were having lunch with Stan, Greg and Steph before they all left for parts unknown. Only then could they enjoy a weekend alone before he left on another road trip and Meg headed back to Flagstaff to pack her apartment.
She planned to wait until after Junior was born to start her search for a place in Denver to open that bakery she’d always wanted to run. Until then, she was going to stay home, working on adjusting old recipes to the new altitude and coming up with new ones.
“You’d better get ready to eat a lot of mistakes,” she’d said, laughing.
Matt looked forward to that. He was always ready to enjoy a good donut. His mind conjured a picture of Meg, naked and covered in donuts. Shaking his head to clear the memory, he looked down at his bride. He wanted to remember every detail of how she looked today.
Her dress wasn’t a traditional gown. With such short notice and at six months pregnant, she’d been unable to find one of those. But the rose-colored dress was pretty, and it put color in her cheeks.
“You’ve never been more beautiful.”
She smiled up at him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He let his gaze roam over her body, imagining what she looked like underneath that dress. Her lush, full breasts, her creamy white thighs, even her belly, heavy with another man’s child. He wanted it all. “Are you sure we have to be social?”
She nodded, but the look on her face said she found the idea as unpalatable as he did. “We have to treat our witnesses to lunch, to thank them for being a part of our special day.”
Matt sighed. Meg was right, as usual. She had a good head on her shoulders. How had her father not realized she was capable of making her own decisions?
He filled his answering look with a promise of what was to come later—much later. “Don’t worry. I’ll be good.”
Meg’s eyebrows waggled. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Of all the luck,” Meg grumbled to Stan that October. She was sitting on the couch in the Denver condo. On their giant plasma-screen TV, the Rockies were celebrating another win. With the baby due soon, she couldn’t travel with Matt anymore.
He’d made sure she was taken care of, though. Stan had closed up shop for a long-awaited vacation so he could keep watch over her. Currently, he was doing a victory dance in the middle of the living room. “The Rockies are going to the World Series!”
Meg tried to be happy about it, especially since Matt had just played the whole game. He’d become an integral cog in the Rockies machine over the past few months.
She didn’t have to try very hard. Part of her was thrilled. She was a member of an elite club. Very few women could say their husbands were playing in the World Series.
Another part of her flooded with disappointment. “Unless the Pea decides to make an appearance during the break between the NLCS and the start of the Series, Matt’s going to miss the birth.”
Stan danced over to the couch and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t think like that, Meggy.”
She let Stan waltz her around the living room and tried to banish the negativity. Of course she couldn’t deny Matt his moment in the sun. He’d worked toward a win of this magnitude for years.
They waited an hour, killing time with a game of Scrabble and a pizza, before they called to congratulate Matt.
“Great game, sweetheart,” she said when he picked up his cell phone. She heard celebratory whoops in the background.
“Huh?” He shouted to be heard over the noise.
She, too, raised her voice. “It’s Meg. I said congrats on a game well-played.”
Suddenly, things were much quieter. She imagined he’d gone from the locker room to the hallway. “I know the timing couldn’t be worse for you.”
“Don’t worry about us. Stan’s taking good care of the Pea and me in your absence, so you just enjoy your win.”
“That’s right, Matty,” Stan chimed in. “Meg and I are doing great. I didn’t go to those awful childbirth classes with
you two for nothing.”
“I just hate to think I’ll miss it.” He took a deep breath. “That’s why I called the doctor.”
“You did what?”
“I know, I know. I’m overstepping my bounds again. But I explained the situation, and she said that with you so close to your due date, she’d be willing to induce labor if I was determined to be there for the birth.”
Tears rushed to Meg’s eyes. Maybe she should be angry with Matt for talking to her doctor without her permission, but she wasn’t. After all, he was her husband, and she was touched he was so adamant about being there for the Pea’s birth. He was living up to the promise he’d made when he proposed.
Stan yanked the phone from her hand. “Matty, you made Meg cry.”
“At least tell me they’re tears of joy. Please.”
“I think so, but I can’t be sure. When I’m on vacation, so is my stylist’s sense.”
She rolled her eyes. “Give me that.” She took back control of the phone. “Thank you, Matt. I’ll call Dr. Davidson first thing in the morning to set up an appointment.”
He sounded relieved. “Our flight lands in Denver at 9 a.m.”
As it turned out, Meg didn’t get a chance to make that call. Her water broke at around two o’clock that morning.
She lumbered down the hall and knocked on the door of the guest room/nursery. A sleepy Stan mumbled, “What?”
“It’s time.”
An instant later, the door flew open. Stan stood there in a “Frankie says Relax” T-shirt and sweats, his hair sticking up in all directions. Meg wondered if the T was vintage ’80s.
“Did you just say ‘It’s time’?”
She nodded.
Stan jammed his feet into fuzzy bunny slippers. “Let’s go.”
Meg didn’t think it wise to point out he had time to put on real shoes. He was here out of the goodness of his heart, after all.
She retrieved her overnight bag, which had been packed for weeks, from the hall closet and watched Stan race around looking for the keys to Matt’s SUV. She thought about suggesting they take her car, but getting in and out of the Bug was impossible these days.
Thirty minutes later, they were at the hospital. The time between contractions seemed interminable at first. Then, as they got closer together, she wished they were still farther apart. The pain was unbearable.
At one point, she grabbed the front of Stan’s ridiculous T-shirt and pulled him toward her so they were forehead to forehead. “If I ever talk about having another one of these things, I want you to remind me of this very moment,” she ground out.
His chuckle sounded a lot like Matt’s. “I’ve never understood the appeal this whole experience has for you breeders.”
When the contraction passed, Meg released him. She had no idea how to respond to that, since she was having trouble seeing the appeal herself at the moment.
Stan checked his watch. “9:30.”
“And you called Matt?”
“At six this morning and again at seven. He said he’d be here as soon as he could once the plane hits the ground.”
Meg leaned back against the pillows and smiled. “Good.”
Sure enough, Matt came rushing in before her next contraction hit. “You just couldn’t wait, huh?”
She giggled. “I think the Pea’s been hanging around his Uncle Stan too long. He seems to have a flair for the dramatic.”
Stan excused himself, announcing he was going down to the cafeteria and to call him after it was over. “I don’t need to see the birth to know my nephew exists.”
Matt held her hand and coached her through the rest of the birth, and it seemed a little easier with him at her side. Not that Stan hadn’t been a suitable surrogate—but there was no substitute for having the man she loved beside her.
It didn’t stop her from shouting a few choice curses as pain overtook her, though. Matt just smiled and mopped the sweat from her brow.
At three that afternoon, Junior came into the world.
“It’s a girl!”
“Girl?” Meg’s puzzled eyes met his. “I thought for sure it was going to be a boy.”
He squeezed her hand. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is she’s healthy.”
Dr. Davidson placed the baby in her arms and Matt gazed down at the two of them, filled with wonder that this woman was his wife, and he was now a father. A year ago, he’d never have imagined such a possibility.
Not only was he a father, he was a father whose team was headed to the World Series.
“Life has its own plans for all of us, sweetheart. The best we can do is buckle up and enjoy the ride.”
Her smile was tired. “I’m glad I’m on this crazy ride with you.”
“So am I, Meg. So am I.”
THE END
About Arlene Hittle
Arlene Hittle is a Midwestern transplant who now makes her home in northern Arizona. Beauty and the Ballplayer, a 2011Golden Heart® finalist, is her second novel with Turquoise Morning Press. Diva in the Dugout was released in October 2013. Arlene suffers from the well-documented Hittle family curse of being a Cubs fan, but will root for the Diamondbacks until they run up against the Cubs. Longtime friends are amazed she writes books with sports in them, since she’s about as coordinated as a newborn giraffe and used to say marching band required more exertion than golf. When she’s not writing, spending time with her boyfriend or slurping down Starbucks drinks, she works as a copy editor/page designer for the Arizona Daily Sun. Find her at arlenehittle.com, on Twitter or on Facebook.
RIVETING HIS ATTENTION
Impressions
May Williams
Jim Ferguson hides from his past and focuses on his future until Lady Ella Harwich rivets his attention.
Lady Ella Harwich is capricious. At least that’s what her older brother thinks. However, when it comes to Jim Ferguson, Lady Ella is quite serious. One long, lingering kiss put Jim at the center of her romantic desires and at the top of her list of suitors. And she plans to keep him there. Unfortunately, Jim wants off her list because of a secret past, a career as a shipbuilder instead of a gentleman, and his own inability to resist her. Proving her love—and his worthiness for her love—is Ella’s only way to rivet his attention.
Chapter One
Lady Ella Harwich regretted every day she’d changed a pink sash for a yellow one, every meal she’d picked a new favorite food, and every friend she’d made and discarded. All little acts that led her family, particularly her elder brother, to one conclusion—she was capricious.
Mercurial moments of childhood should hardly be cast in one’s face at nearly nineteen, she decided, ruthlessly drawing a brush through her chestnut hair. She was a lady now with one season under her petticoats. And she knew her own tastes and desires. And she desired Jim Ferguson so much she could taste him.
A surge of warmth like sunshine on a May morning rustled through her veins. She had tasted him ever so briefly at her sister’s wedding nearly two months ago until Richard, her overprotective, under-imaginative elder brother, separated her from Jim.
So far the romance yielded pages of writing in her diary and six love letters dispatched to Jim. Since she’d received no replies to her billets-doux, she supposed Richard separated those from their rightful owner as well. This afternoon she’d find out the truth when Jim arrived at her family’s country estate.
When her maid took over styling her hair into a fashionable twist, Ella flipped open her leather-bound diary to reread the delectable kiss entry.
July 15, 1858
Richard is a pest. If his wife weren’t the loveliest of women, I’d brand him with the drawing room poker. Mary has no idea the restraint I’ve exercised on her behalf. I suppose I should begin today’s entry with Annabelle and Edmund’s wedding. It was a wedding. The minister spoke for too long, the bride was beautiful, and all ladies over the age of twenty-five cried. The matrons because they are expected to and the spinsters, well, because another hand
some man is off the list of possibilities. I think the wedded couple will be ridiculously happy. Sigh…
Now to find a way to join them in matrimonial bliss with my own handsome man, who crept around the back of the ceremony and stayed far from the center of attention throughout the day until I cornered him in the library. His deep blue waistcoat exactly matched his eyes. Although his blond hair was a tiny bit too long for fashion, I still wanted to run my hands through it from the second he arrived.
“Lady Ella, you must sit still so I can finish or you’ll be the last one down this morning,” her maid complained, tugging Ella’s head upward.
“Have the guests come yet, Maddy?” According to Richard, Jim would arrive today for an unspecified length of stay.
“Not while I was below stairs.” Maddy reached for a mother-of-pearl comb. “Now, give me just another minute and you can go see for yourself.”
“I’m in no hurry.” She didn’t need another lecture from Richard on decorum. She could recite it already. All she wanted was Jim Ferguson to herself. When Maddy finished, Ella dismissed her and returned to her diary to continue reading.
I procrastinate in describing what I felt when I kissed him. The words escape me, and all I felt is this little catch in my heart and an explosion in my veins. I’m sure the pages of this diary will confirm three kisses this season. The first from Baron Edgeton (too wet), the second from Sir Eliot (too formal), and the last from Lord Spencer (better, but he crushed my new gown in his misplaced enthusiasm). Jim’s kiss was commanding and so warm it nearly sizzled. He was demanding something of me. I’m not sure what it was, but it must be wonderful.
For correct documentation of my first real kiss, let me record the details. I found Jim alone in the library. I slipped in, closing the door behind me.
“Are you enjoying the party?” I asked. Not particularly clever conversation, I admit, but my brain tends not to function well in close proximity to his level of masculinity.
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