Chapter 5
Rachel was happy to be back to work. The past seventy-two hours had been overwhelming. Engaged, married, and moved in all in the span of three days. She’d had only about two hours alone, packing the essentials to take to Bryce’s apartment. He’d taken the time to clear out a closet and half his drawers. They had to share a bed because his second bedroom housed his workout equipment.
Eventually they would have to turn that room into a nursery. Or find a bigger apartment. She wasn’t ready to think about buying a house together. That seemed too permanent. Something she wasn’t sure she could manage with Bryce. Sure, she’d said the words, “till death do us part,” but she didn’t really think it would come to that.
Kip Michaels was the first to approach Rachel in the press area before the game.
“I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you on your engagement.” Even though he’d been a star pitcher and was now an Emmy-award-winning broadcaster, he’d always made Rachel feel like one of the team. He’d been a mentor to her from her earliest days as an intern and she didn’t think she would have made it this far without his guidance and friendship. “Have you set a date yet?”
“Actually, we got married.” She felt a blush creep across her cheeks. “We went to Reno after the game Sunday and it’s official.”
She pasted on a smile fit for a glowing bride and held up her left hand to show her wedding ring.
“Well, in that case you deserve a hug.” He pulled her into a hearty embrace. She leaned into the hug, feeling like a fraud.
He stepped back and smiled warmly. “Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing Baxter? We’re a family here, you know.”
“We kept it quiet for various reasons.” She felt only slightly less guilty for keeping her relationship with Bryce a secret from Kip as she did for keeping it from her own family. “Mostly because it wasn’t supposed to turn into anything.”
“But he went and stole your heart anyway?” Kip chuckled. “Well I’m happy for you, kid. I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you.” Rachel knew he meant it.
“Now you know my partner is going to want some of the leftover cake.” He and Kurt Dwyer had been in the booth for over a decade. One-time teammates and long-term friends, they were the best broadcasting team in baseball: knowledgeable, entertaining, and always respectful of the game and the men who played it.
“We didn’t have any cake.” She actually felt bad for not picking some up. Kurt’s sweet tooth was almost as legendary as his one and only homerun in the big leagues. “It all happened so quickly.”
“You know, I think you and Bryce did it right. Young people today spend way too much time and energy focusing on the wrong things, like the cake. They forget what’s really important. The marriage.”
“What’s this about cake?” Kurt popped his head into the booth. “If you need someone to help you test out bakeries for the big day, you know who to call.”
“Thank you, but since we already got married, I don’t think we’ll need to test cakes.”
“Married? Already?” He glanced at his partner for confirmation, and when Kip nodded, Kurt turned back to Rachel. “Well, we’ll just have to order a cake. You need to have a celebration, even if it is after the fact.”
“That would be lovely. I’m sure you’ll come up with something delicious.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to get to work.”
“Honeymoon’s over, huh?” Kip quipped.
“Yeah, that’s the price we paid for not waiting until the offseason.” She tried to hold her head high, not wanting to show she was a little disappointed that not only had she not had a cake, she still hadn’t consummated her marriage.
But she couldn’t worry about that now. The Goliaths were playing tonight and it was her job to bring the game home to the fans. She interviewed players, fans, and distinguished guests around the ballpark. She recreated the experience of being at the ballpark for the viewers at home. But more than that, she liked to think she brought out the human element of the national pastime. She provided a glimpse into the men behind the uniform.
Her fans had often commented on how she made a group of elite, and well-paid, athletes seem like just a bunch of regular guys.
She just wondered how she was going to be accepted now that she was married to one of those guys.
* * * *
Bryce wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked into the clubhouse after his quickie wedding. He’d spent the last year and a half trying to hide his relationship with Rachel, and now it was official. Legal, even.
He got some ribbing. Guys saying they thought she was too smart to end up with a guy like him. Some congratulatory pats on the back, and a few raised eyebrows. But they didn’t ask too many questions. Not that he’d have much to say.
Besides, he had to get back to work.
He had a decent game. Got one hit, a walk, and he scored on Marco Santiago’s game-winning home run.
Rachel rushed up to interview Marco after the game. She looked up at him as if he was the biggest hero of her life. Bryce’s gut twisted as he thought of all the times she’d interviewed him after a win. Back when he’d been the one who had knocked in the winning runs. More often than not, they’d ended the off-camera portion of the interview in bed.
“Even though the team has gotten off to a slow start, you’re still playing like it’s the postseason.” She smiled for the camera, or was it for Marco?
“Thank you, Rachel, I know I’ve been lucky lately.” Marco flashed his too-damn-good-looking grin. “And I know it’s just a matter of time before the rest of the team gets hot. We had a great run last year and every single one of us wants to do it again.”
“Would you say defending the championship is harder than winning it in the first place?”
“I guess in a way, it should be easier, knowing that we’re capable of going all the way.” He shook his head. “But baseball is a humbling game. Success is the exception, not the rule. We shouldn’t be worried about whether or not we’ll repeat as World Series Champions, we should be focusing on the next game. The next series. And if we can play the way we’re capable of playing, then we’ll talk about it more in October.”
“Thank you, Marco, it’s always a pleasure talking to you.” Rachel tilted her head to the side, still smiling. “I do hope we’ll be talking plenty in October.”
Marco nodded at the camera and took off for the clubhouse.
Bryce watched Rachel wrap up her segment and waited until the camera stopped rolling before approaching her.
“Nice interview.” Bryce still had his teeth clenched. “You think Marco Santiago is hot, don’t you?”
“He’s on a pretty good streak.” She looked at him as if she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“No, you think he’s hot. Like all the women on that Facebook fan site, ‘I heart Marco Santiago’ where they post about how sexy he is.”
“I haven’t seen that one. I do know about the site devoted entirely to your hair,” Rachel said. “I’ve thought about commenting that, yes, it is as soft and silky as it looks, but I didn’t want to brag.”
“Yeah, well now you can go on there and tell them we’re married. Or have you forgotten?” He knew he was out of line, but he couldn’t stop. “You can’t keep flirting with guys like Santiago.”
“I wasn’t flirting. I was working. I was asking questions about the game. Like I do every night.” She glared at him. “You know what, I don’t need this. I’m going to my apartment. I still have a lot of stuff to deal with and I don’t need you telling me how to do my job.”
With that, she stomped past him.
Bryce stood there, alone on the field. Except he wasn’t alone. Her cameraman had witnessed the whole exchange. Fortunately the camera had been turned off, so there wouldn’t be any footage going viral about how Bryce Baxter couldn’t even score with his new bride.
“I blew it, didn’t I?�
�� he asked.
Carl just laughed and shook his head. “You’ve been married what? Two days? You’ve got a lot to learn.”
“Yeah. I know.” Bryce knew he was screwed. But he couldn’t help it. Why did Santiago have to be the first guy she interviewed? Besides being ridiculously good-looking, he was still playing like a champion. The two men had competed down the stretch. They’d fed off each other, pushed each other, and brought out the best in each other. Their rivalry played a big part in the team’s success. Marco had won the Most Valuable Player award in the National League Championship Series. Bryce had won it for the World Series. Marco then signed a lucrative five-year contract, and Bryce extended his for six.
Off the field, Marco had gotten his girl. Hunter Collins had given up her share of the Goliaths for the love of her man. But everyone knew she’d be back in the game once Marco’s career ended.
Bryce had gotten his girl, too. But just like with his game, he was in danger of blowing it.
* * * *
Rachel got in her car and headed east on the Bay Bridge. She was one of the few people she knew who actually enjoyed her commute. Her job wasn’t particularly stressful, but she needed the drive time to unwind. She was a professional, but she was a baseball fan first. The games were often exciting, frustrating, or a combination of both. She had to maintain an impartial façade on camera, but her heart rested with the team. When they won, she was pumped up. When they lost, she was a little down. But she couldn’t show it. She had to smile and ask the hard questions after a loss. She had to keep her emotions under control.
Usually by the time she pulled into her parking spot in Walnut Creek, she was relaxed and ready for a nice warm bath, a good book, and maybe a glass of wine before bed. She had to skip the wine these days, but she could still enjoy a nice long soak.
But not tonight. Tonight she was still wound up from Bryce’s fit over her interview with Marco Santiago. What the hell? She was just doing her job. The job that Bryce had insisted he wanted to save.
Did he really not trust her?
She went into her closet and started pulling out her clothes. She’d only taken about a week’s worth of stuff to Bryce’s apartment. She needed to sort through the clothes that would still fit her in another month. Skinny jeans were out. Yoga pants in. Then there were the few dresses in her wardrobe that she had no idea if she would wear again. Including the little black number she’d worn the night of the Golden Gate Gala. The night she and Bryce had hooked up for the first time.
She hadn’t gone there looking for anything other than a feel-good story about how the Goliaths’ partnership with the Harrison Foundation helped kids in the community. Damn her hunch that there was a deeper connection between Johnny Scottsdale and the Harrison kid. Bryce had been quick to point out that Johnny was an upstanding guy. His only connection was that he’d dated the director of the foundation back in college.
Bryce had approached her. Made her feel like the most glamorous woman at the party. Crazy since she was probably the only one there in a consignment store bargain and faux jewelry. And the fact that she didn’t use anything she’d learned that night for a story meant she couldn’t write off the expense.
When she woke up the next morning in Bryce Baxter’s bed, she’d sworn it was a one-time thing. They’d both agreed that as lovely as their time together was, it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And it would not in any way affect their working relationship.
That resolve lasted until Bryce came begging her not to do a story on his new best friend.
A small part of her wanted to tell him, too bad. She had a story that could get her national attention. Nothing like a sex scandal to elevate her career. And news that The Monk had a love child would have given her certain notoriety. The kind that could have come with job offers.
It wasn’t just Bryce’s begging that had kept her from running with the story. Although he was very persuasive, she realized that if she had taken the low road, she would be no better than her ex. The one who thought being a sports reporter wasn’t real journalism.
She hadn’t gotten very far in her packing when the doorbell rang. She stretched, rubbing her lower back before answering the door.
“I brought you pickles and ice cream.” Bryce stood on her porch. His trademark smile was damn near impossible to resist. Lord help her if their child inherited his grin. “Truce?”
“I don’t like pickles. The smell alone is enough to make me want to vomit. Even when I’m not pregnant.” She was still mad at him. And herself for not being able to turn him away.
“What about ice cream?” Bryce pulled a carton of Mexican chocolate from the grocery sack. “You do like ice cream, don’t you?”
“How did you know my favorite flavor?” Her heart did a crazy little lurch when he produced her kryptonite.
“Carl clued me in.” He shrugged. “I had to beg, but he finally told me what your weakness is.”
“He’s dead meat.” Rachel grabbed for the ice cream and stood back to let Bryce enter. “And you are not off the hook, mister.”
Bryce ran a hand through his hair. She hated how sexy he was. How drop-dead-fucking gorgeous. Even more, she hated that he knew it. And knew that she, like all women, was powerless to resist.
She made a beeline for the kitchen. Grabbed a spoon and dug into the ice cream. Just a little taste of heaven. Chocolate and cinnamon danced on her tongue. Soothing and exciting her at the same time.
Just like Bryce.
“So you think you can just come over here, offering me ice cream, and all is forgiven?” She wasn’t going to let him off that easy. “I was just doing my job and you had to go get all weird on me.”
“I’m sorry.” Bryce ran both hands through his hair. At least he knew he’d screwed up. “I got a little carried away.”
“You think?” She licked the back of the spoon. She’d better put the rest of the ice cream in the freezer. She’d eat the whole carton if she wasn’t careful.
He came up to her, put his arms around her. It would be so easy to just lean into him. Accept the fact that she was completely under his spell, had been since the Golden Gate Gala.
He ran his hands down her hips, pulled her close and she was tempted to surrender. To just let him have his way with her. And she’d have her way with him.
“Seriously, Bryce.” She pulled away, stuck the spoon back into the ice cream. “How could you? I mean, of all people, Marco Santiago is the last person you should worry about. He absolutely worships his wife. It’s almost sickening. If it wasn’t so… So genuine.”
“Is that what you want? A man who worships you?”
She’d settle for a man who trusted her. A man she could trust.
* * * *
Bryce wasn’t about to let Santiago beat him again. It was bad enough his batting average was a hundred points higher. His RBI totals were double. And the left fielder hadn’t committed any errors this season. Now Rachel thought he was the ideal husband, too.
He grabbed the spoon, scooped up a good-sized bite, and held it up to her lips. She opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her one last bite of ice cream. As soon as she closed her eyes, enjoying the tasty treat, Bryce moved in.
He withdrew the spoon, tossing it in the direction of the sink, and covered her mouth with his. Then he wrapped his arms around her, savoring the taste of her. She tasted of chocolate and cinnamon and Rachel.
Pulling her closer, he kissed her harder, worshipping her with his mouth, his tongue. He moved his hands down her shoulders, pressed his body against hers. When she threaded her fingers through his hair, he knew she had surrendered to him.
There was no better feeling than having Rachel run her hands through his hair, except when she ran her hands across his body, wrapped her legs around him, surrounded him with her sweetness.
He broke the kiss, catching his breath. Then he moved to savor the delicate skin behind her ear. He started working on the buttons of her blouse, trailing kisses down her ne
ck, across her collarbone, dipping his tongue between her breasts.
When he got to her slightly rounded belly, he placed a reverent kiss just below her navel.
“Is there really a baby growing inside you?” He marveled. “My baby?”
“What? You don’t believe me?” She backed away from him and pulled her shirt closed. “You think I made it all up?”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” Bryce backed up and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“You think you can just come over here, bringing ice cream, and I’ll just fall into bed with you?”
“What’s wrong with wanting to make love to my wife?” He reached out to stroke her hair.
“It’s all we know how to do.” The despair in her voice made him drop his hand. “I think we made a mistake. There’s no way we’re going to make it. Maybe we should just admit that now, before we end up hurting each other even more.”
“I refuse to fail here.”
“You’re just saying that because your first marriage failed.”
“No. That’s not it.” Bryce took her hands gently in his. “I deal with failure every day. My job is nothing but failure, with the occasional success here and there.”
She smiled at that assessment of the game.
“I won’t fail you, Rachel. I promise.” He looked into her eyes and saw the fear, hope, and maybe even something more there. “I’ll make mistakes, sure. But I won’t fail you. Or our baby.”
She fell into his arms, and he held her, stroking her back, easing her worry. He kissed her on the top of her head.
Bryce would not fail her. No matter what. Even if it meant he had to keep his hands to himself, he would earn her trust.
Chapter 6
Rachel woke the next morning to the smell of buttered toast and the sound of a man in her kitchen. Bryce had spent the night in her bed, but they hadn’t made love. They’d been married three days now and still hadn’t consummated the marriage.
What was wrong with her? She’d been pushing Bryce away. As if some subconscious part of her believed that if they didn’t have sex, they weren’t really married and it wouldn’t hurt so much when it all fell apart.
Earning a Ring (More Than a Game Series Book 4) Page 6