“Thanks, but I have my car.” She tried not to read too much into his concern. “I can’t ride the train right now. I’m fine until those doors close and the train starts to lurch forward…”
She put her hand on her stomach, wishing she hadn’t brought up the queasiness. Slow breaths through the nose, closing her eyes, and willing the nausea away sometimes worked. But not always.
“I’ll follow you home, then. To make sure you get in okay.”
“No. I’m fine. Thanks anyway.” She held her hand up, as if she could keep him at bay. He could be thoughtful as well as charming. It was the charming part that had gotten her in this mess in the first place. “I’ve got my first doctor’s appointment in the morning. So it’s best if we head our separate ways for tonight.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No.” She answered too quickly and far too forcefully. “I mean, not this time. I think we both need a little time to adjust. And you really don’t need the distraction right now.”
“No. I guess not.” He frowned. Her timing couldn’t have been worse. “But hey, let me know what the doctor says.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll be in touch.”
How many times had she promised herself that she’d forget about Bryce Baxter? That each time she saw him off-camera would be the last? It didn’t matter now. They were forever linked through the child growing inside her.
* * * *
Even though she’d asked him not to, Bryce followed Rachel home. He gave her enough of a head start that she was able to make it inside before he pulled up to her modest apartment in Walnut Creek.
He’d been there a few times, when he’d been desperate for her touch. It was a nice place. Small, but nice. Perfect for a single woman. Not so great for a family.
He’d have to do something about that. But Rachel Parker was the kind of woman who wouldn’t just stand aside while a man told her what to do. She wouldn’t take his money, either. At least not until she absolutely had to. Legally, if he was the father, he’d owe child support after the baby was born. He was fine with that. He wouldn’t want his child to have to go without, not while he could still do something about it.
Why else would he agree to pay for fencing lessons for his nine-year-old daughter? Fencing? Really? But hey, if that’s where her passion took her, he wasn’t going to question it. He couldn’t be there to play catch with Hailey, so it didn’t really matter that she’d tried every sport, dance, and activity except baseball.
Bryce waited in front of Rachel’s house until she turned off the lights before he drove away, satisfied that she was safe, but worried about how this was going to play out. What if she did lose her job because of him? Or worse, transferred to another city? He already had one daughter he never saw because they lived in different states. He wasn’t going to do that again.
He’d just have to make sure Rachel didn’t lose her job. That she stayed in San Francisco and they’d somehow manage to be a family.
He drove back over the Bay Bridge, into the city he’d come to call home. The lights were off, but the silhouette of the ballpark was still a striking view. Some of his best memories happened in that ballpark. The rest had been with Rachel.
Shit. He didn’t want to lose her. That’s why he couldn’t stay out of her bed. It wasn’t about sex. Okay, maybe a lot of it was about sex. Great sex. Uncomplicated sex. Or so he’d thought.
It had just become real complicated. Not just with the baby. But her career, too. He didn’t think she should lose her job because she had a relationship with him. But he was a ballplayer. She was a reporter. Not supposed to happen, but it did. Hell, it was almost a cliché, but most of the guys he’d known who’d hooked up with a reporter had kept it casual.
Or they’d married her.
Chapter 2
After a restless night, Bryce was awoken by the phone. Scrubbing his gritty eyes, he glanced at the caller ID, hoping it was Rachel. No such luck.
“Morning, Jillian, what do you need?” With his ex-wife, it was always something. Not that he didn’t send her enough money to run a small country.
“Hailey needs braces.” Jillian huffed, as if it was somehow his fault.
“She’s nine. Does she even have all her permanent teeth?” He usually tried to keep his interactions with his ex-wife friendly and upbeat, but he was tired and cranky and sometimes he just couldn’t fake it.
“If they do it now, she shouldn’t have to go through the humiliation of wearing braces in high school.” She used the same tone of voice she’d used when they were married. It was as if she thought he couldn’t possibly understand the burden placed upon her by parenthood. He was, after all, a dumb jock.
“So there’s still a chance she’ll need them again when she’s older?” He’d never had to deal with braces or acne as a teenager. It was one of the few advantages of late puberty. He’d been skinny, but athletic, so he’d had to work twice as hard as the other kids on his team. But while most of his Little League teammates had peaked at twelve, he was still in the game.
“Are you going to pay for it or what?”
“Of course. Don’t I always?” He’d never deny his daughter anything. If he couldn’t be around, the next best thing was to make sure she had everything she needed.
“I also need twelve hundred dollars for her summer camp.” Jillian let out a sigh indicating she was insulted to even have to ask.
“Is this a fencing camp?” Fencing was an Olympic sport, right? Maybe someday his little girl would win a gold medal. After all, being a champion was in her blood.
“Oh God, she gave that up ages ago.” She made it sound like it was his fault he couldn’t keep up with Hailey’s ever-changing interests. “No. It’s a theater camp.”
“Theater? Like plays?”
“Yes. Musicals.”
He held his breath, waiting for a request for more money to hire a voice coach.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll have a great time.” He just hoped the camp wasn’t during the same week he’d make his one and only trip to Pittsburgh this summer. His time with his daughter was limited enough without missing out on being able to take her for lunch before he played a night game. He knew better than to ask Jillian to let her actually come to a game. But maybe when she got a little older and could start making her own decisions about spending time with him. That was if Jillian didn’t brainwash her into thinking he was scum.
Maybe he should get Hailey a cell phone. That way he could talk to her without her mother controlling… Yeah, as if Jillian wouldn’t try to control Hailey’s cell phone usage. If she’d let her have one in the first place. Of course, if he even suggested it, she’d shoot him down faster than she could cash a check.
“Is Hailey there? Can I say hello?” He hated having to beg for his daughter’s affection. For every moment of time with her.
“She’s still in school.” He could practically hear Jillian roll her eyes. But when he worked up to seventeen days in a row, he often lost track of what day of the week it was.
“Well, tell her I said hello and that I miss her.” As if those words could even begin to state how he felt about the little girl who had her mother’s eyes, but his whole heart.
“Sure.” She sighed, making it sound like a big inconvenience to relay the simple message. “So are you going to send the money?”
“I’ll send it this afternoon, before I go to work.” He never really cared about how much he sent, as long as it was for Hailey. “Anything else?”
“No. That’s it for now.” Jillian’s voice was like ice. She hated him. Always had, and always would. He wondered why she’d ever even slept with him. Surely she hadn’t planned on getting pregnant and making his life miserable ever since? At least he’d gotten a daughter out of the deal. Even though he only saw her a few times a year, she was worth it. And someday, he’d be able to prove to her just how much she meant to him.
Now he had another child to take care of. He’d have to split his re
sources between two families. Right now, he had plenty to go around. But his recent play only served to remind him that his career would only last so long. And then he’d have to pay for Hailey’s college, her wedding.
And what about the new baby?
He didn’t want to be just some guy who sent money, showing up only at Christmas, kind of like Santa Claus, bringing gifts and then leaving again. He wasn’t sure if Hailey even believed in him anymore.
He had to do things differently this time. He had to work out something between him and Rachel. Something more than a custody arrangement.
Maybe, just maybe, he could get it right this time.
* * * *
Rachel made it to the ballpark without any morning sickness. She took it as a sign that things would turn around. Maybe keeping the news from Bryce had made things worse, and now that he knew, she would get through the rest of her pregnancy with minimal discomfort.
Rachel’s producer, Steve Montoya, pulled her aside before she headed to the field for a pregame interview with Nathan Cooper. The left-handed reliever had been traded last season, but he’d been invited back to spring training and had made a good impression so far. He’d done well in relief last night, but the damage had been done when Bryce messed up on the double-play ball.
“We’re in uncharted territory here.” Steve had a serious note in his voice.
Rachel’s stomach lurched. Had he discovered her relationship with Bryce? Her cameraman, Carl, seemed to sense something was going on between the two of them. Oh, he never said a word, but he watched her carefully, almost as if he was waiting for her to crack under the pressure of keeping a secret of this kind. She didn’t think he’d rat her out. No, Carl had always had her back. But she got the feeling he was disappointed in her. They both knew she should know better than to get involved with a player. Especially a guy with Bryce’s reputation and one failed marriage behind him.
Not that she was looking to get married. She wasn’t that big of a fool.
So what did she want from Bryce? Besides great sex? Really great sex.
She wanted to forget him. To be able to do her job, and not have to hold her breath every time he stepped into the batter’s box. She wanted to be able to interview him after the game and not secretly hope for, yet dread, an invitation back to his place once the camera stopped rolling.
“Defending a title is different than just trying to make the playoffs,” Steve was saying. “Expectations are higher. Fans are less patient.”
Rachel could only nod, and hold her breath while waiting for the hammer to come down. She started mentally putting her résumé together.
“I know it’s been tough these first few weeks.” Steve exhaled with the frustration they were all feeling. “But I need you to focus on the positive. Stay upbeat. Your job is to keep the hope alive.”
She concentrated on the word “is.” She still had a job. For now.
“Positive. Upbeat.” She gave him her best camera-ready smile. “Always. We’re behind our guys one hundred percent.”
“Good. I knew I could count on you.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “It’s funny. We did such a good job at making the fans feel a part of last year’s victory, that now they feel like they’re owed back-to-back championships.”
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
“But I know you’ll do your part to keep it going.” He gave her an encouraging nod. “Seek out the first timers, the bachelorette parties. Find soldiers on leave taking in a ballgame before they head back to their mission overseas. Focus on the ballpark experience. Make them want to be here even if the team isn’t winning.”
“Keep them happy until the team gets back on track. I can do that.” She wasn’t getting fired. Just a pep talk.
“Exactly.”
“So I’ll interview the guys who are performing well, like Nathan Cooper or Marco Santiago.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Just stay away from Bryce Baxter.” He shook his head. Oh God. He knew. He knew and he was disappointed in her. Time to update her résumé, after all.
She’d been contacted by an up-and-coming network about doing a sports talk show “for women who love sports, by women who love sports.” But Jock Talk was nothing more than a gossip show that focused more on the players’ private lives than what occurred on the field of play. What they drove, where they ate—and most importantly—who they were sleeping with got more attention than anything the athletes accomplished on the field. They would have loved the story about Johnny “The Monk” Scottsdale and his child with his college sweetheart. It would have made headlines, but not the kind she wanted her name associated with.
Could she do it if it were her only option? If it was the only way she could support herself and her unborn child? It would be a lot easier if the studio wasn’t located in New Jersey.
“I only interview the players who help the team.” She held her voice steady. She wasn’t going to give him any reason to doubt her. “If a guy contributes on the field, the fans will want to hear from him after the game.”
“Right now Baxter looks about as lost as he can get.” He continued to shake his head. Almost as though he was disappointed in Baxter, too. “When he’s hot, he’s golden. He’s got that Midas touch.”
He had no idea.
“Let’s hope he gets it back. We need him.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, a touch of familiarity she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “And the on-screen chemistry between you two is something else. The fans love it.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. The last thing she needed was to faint. Or throw up.
“It’s all on him.” She willed her stomach to stay calm, for five more minutes. “He’s one of the players who gets it. He understands that his job isn’t just between the foul lines. He knows how to play to the crowd.”
And she was only making things worse. She should stop talking, before Steve realized that Bryce had also been playing her.
“Everybody loves Bryce Baxter.” He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “But they love him even more when the Goliaths are winning.”
“We all look better when the Goliaths are winning.”
Rachel watched her boss walk away, leaving her feeling like a pitcher who’d somehow gotten out of a bases-loaded jam. Her stomach was starting to settle, but she felt as though she could go lie down in the clubhouse and sleep for three days.
Still, she’d have to be very careful around Bryce. She couldn’t let their relationship, or lack of one, get in the way of her job. She wondered how her boss would react when he found out the chemistry between her and Bryce had developed into biology. She’d have to explain that although they were having a baby together, they weren’t a couple. And sure, she would be able to maintain a professional relationship with the player who’d knocked her up.
She couldn’t think about all of this right now. Not when she had a job to do. Nathan Cooper was expecting an interview.
Carl stood with his camera ready as Rachel seated herself next to Cooper in the dugout.
“In twelve appearances, you’ve given up only two hits and no walks, with seven strikeouts. I guess it’s safe to say your shoulder’s feeling pretty good.” She kept her tone upbeat, her expression friendly.
“Yeah, the shoulder feels great. The surgery was a success, and I spent the offseason building strength and flexibility.” He offered a warm smile for the camera. “I’m healthy and ready to go the distance.”
“Keep pitching like you have been, and you’ll have a chance at going all the way.” No, that didn’t sound cheesy at all. But her job was to stay positive, upbeat, like the t-baller’s mom who smiles and praises effort, and win or lose, takes them all out for ice cream.
“Thank you. I really hope I can contribute down the stretch. The Goliaths organization has faith in me, and I don’t want to let them down ever again.” Cooper nodded and headed out to the field of play to join his teammates.
She signed off, relie
ved that the subject of Cooper’s suspension last year did not come up.
“Hard to believe that’s the same guy,” Carl said after the camera stopped rolling. “He used to think he was hot shit. He was hot shit. But was it because he was juiced or because he was that talented?”
“He’s got talent. Always has. But you’re right. He’s definitely humbled.” She’d been doing this job for four years. She’d dealt with some pretty big egos, and Nathan Cooper had been one of the biggest. Had he really changed? Or had he been hiding behind a cocky façade, like another ballplayer she knew only too well?
She watched the game, hoping tonight would be a reversal of the team’s bad luck. Because that’s all it was. Luck. Some balls were hit hard, but right at someone. Others were weakly hit but they dropped in between the defenders. Baseball was like that. Teams ran into stretches where they couldn’t buy a hit with a platinum card. Or the diamonds studding their World Series rings.
That was part of the problem. Once they’d reached the mountaintop, the view from the foothills wasn’t enough anymore. It was like staying in a cheap motel after living the high life at a five-star resort. Or like being with another man after having been with… She really needed to get over Bryce Baxter. Maybe she should invest in a vibrator. As if that could help her keep her head in the game.
It wasn’t even May and the fans, the talk show hosts, and bloggers were all ready to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. Who did they blame the most? Bryce Baxter. World Series Most Valuable Player. He’d been the savior. The man who’d brought them to salvation. Six months ago, he’d practically walked on water. Now he was being ripped apart on the Internet and talk radio.
And every single jab struck her straight in the heart. Bryce Baxter was a friend. A lover. The father of her child. But more than that, he was someone she’d grown to care about. Maybe even love if it wasn’t such a ridiculously bad idea.
Earning a Ring (More Than a Game Series Book 4) Page 2