Earning a Ring (More Than a Game Series Book 4)

by Kristina Mathews

  Marco just tapped his bat against the bottom of his shoe. He didn’t want to acknowledge that fact that everyone already knew that Bryce was an idiot.

  “You’d think I’d have learned my lesson with my ex-wife. It didn’t matter how much I spent on her, she was never happy.”

  Marco tapped the other cleat.

  “Rachel’s not like that, though.” Bryce didn’t really need the other man to respond or offer advice. He just needed to get out of his own head for a few minutes. “She’s almost intimidated by the money.”

  “It’s a lot to wrap your head around.” Marco wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. “Once I signed my first big league contract, I was almost afraid to cash that first check. It was more money than my mother had made in a year. And that was working two or sometimes three jobs.”

  “Yeah. It can mess with a guy’s head.” And it could make all kinds of people show up in your life who never gave you the time of day until you were a big league ballplayer. With big league cash. And everybody wanted something from him.

  Everyone except Rachel.

  “I hit a grand slam my first major league at bat.” Bryce wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact.

  “That’s a great way to start your career,” Marco acknowledged.

  “Then I went on a six-game hitting streak before going hitless for the next seventeen at bats.”

  Marco shrugged. That was baseball. If you played long enough, it all evened out eventually.

  “Those first few games were unreal. It was almost scary because I knew I couldn’t keep that pace up forever.”

  “You’ve managed to get it back when we needed it.” Marco was referring to the hot streak he’d been on during their postseason run. They’d both been on a pretty good run. Marco was still on one.

  “Yeah. But as the hitting streak went on, I just knew it was going to turn around.”

  “It usually does.”

  “I don’t want that to happen with Rachel,” Bryce admitted. “We started off really hot, you know. And I just don’t want to screw things up with her.”

  Marco gave an understanding nod.

  “I can’t fail this time.”

  “So don’t.”

  “I feel like I need to do something big. Some way to prove that I’m in this for the long haul.”

  “You think we won the World Series because of your six home runs?”

  “They helped.”

  “It was the little things that got us there,” Marco reminded him. “Running out an infield hit. Laying off a ball in the dirt. Making the throw when the runner’s bearing down on you hoping to take you out, or at least break your concentration.”

  “Yeah. But chicks dig the long ball.”

  “The good ones appreciate getting the runner over, a well-turned double play, and heads-up base running. They know that a well-pitched game with solid defense can win more games than a three-run homer.”

  “Yeah. But three-run homers make a big splash.” Even when they didn’t land in the bay.

  “Marriage is a lot like baseball.” Marco had taken over the philosopher’s role that Johnny Scottsdale’s retirement had left. “It’s the little things that end up making a difference. Sure you made a big impression with the proposal. And you needed to do that. You needed the grand gesture. But even more importantly, you need to make dozens of small gestures every day.”

  “It would be a lot easier if I could see her every day.”

  “True. But you can still stay connected with her when you’re on the road. Text her just to let her know you’re thinking of her. Send flowers, or lingerie.” Marco chuckled to himself, as if he had tried that last one out himself.

  “So you’re saying having a Range Rover delivered was too much?”

  “You don’t always need a grand slam to win the game.”

  “I just wish I knew what she wanted.”

  “Talk to her. Really listen.”

  “She says she doesn’t want anything.”

  “Listen to what she doesn’t say.” Marco tipped his cap and then took his turn in the batting cage.

  * * * *

  Bryce managed to do all the little things wrong. He swung at too many pitches outside the strike zone. He didn’t make the clean exchange from glove to throwing hand. And he didn’t get the fly ball deep enough to score the runner from third. He didn’t exactly cost them the game, but he could have. Fortunately Santiago had come through. He’d not only done the little things, but he’d hit a three-run homer to win in extra innings. Guess he was more of a “do as I say, not as I do” kind of guy.

  After the game, Bryce sent Rachel a text as soon as he was back in the clubhouse. She’d texted him back while he was in the shower. Eventually they were able to catch each other and they had a short but sweet conversation over the phone before he headed straight to the hotel. He didn’t feel like going out and celebrating, not when he felt as though he hadn’t done anything to contribute to the win. Besides, the last thing he wanted was to be approached by any of his female fans who either weren’t aware of his marriage or didn’t care. It would be too easy for someone to catch that moment before he was able to make it very clear he wasn’t interested in some woman putting her hand in his lap, thank you very much. One click of a cell phone camera and he’d be up all night trying to explain to Rachel that she really could trust him.

  Chapter 12

  It took Rachel two days to finally be ready to give up her car. The Harrison Foundation would pick it up the next day. First her apartment and now her Honda. It wouldn’t be long before she gave her body up to the child growing inside her. Shouldn’t she be feeling some sort of instinctive glow by now? What if the mothering instinct never came? What if she gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby and she couldn’t bond with him or her? What if she resented the baby for turning her life upside down?

  What if she ended up like her mother?

  Her mother had wanted to go to Hollywood and become an actress, but she’d never made it out of Fresno. Well, except for that one spring break her senior year, when she’d met some guy at a party. All she had was a name that may or may not have been his real name. She’d never been able to find Rachel’s father. And neither had Rachel.

  At least she had that going for her. She knew the father of her child. Or at least, she thought she knew him. But Bryce continued to surprise her. She still couldn’t believe that he’d bought her a Range Rover. At first she was afraid he was trying to control her, but then she remembered the conversation about him trading in his Corvette for a minivan. It just made more sense to get rid of her Honda. If they lived in the suburbs with a three-car garage, it wouldn’t be an issue. As it was, Bryce had to give up a lot of tickets to get the second parking spot in the building.

  Rachel had to convince herself that the car was a grand gesture on Bryce’s part. He was swinging for the fences, and she had to be ready to run the bases ahead of him.

  Allowing herself extra time to pull over if necessary, Rachel headed out to meet her mother and sister for lunch. She held her breath until she could get all the windows down and then she started the ignition.

  As much as she dreaded this meeting, it was better than sitting around all day wondering how Bryce was preparing for the last game of the series in Atlanta. He’d had a rough start, and although he’d tried to hide it, she could hear the frustration in his voice.

  Maybe it was a good thing she’d be in the middle of trying to explain to her mother that her quickie wedding was in no way meant to hurt her or get back at her for failings of her childhood. Rachel’s mother sometimes went through periods of guilt over not being as close to Rachel as her sister, Megan. She’d even gone so far as to try to take Rachel on special mother-daughter outings. Unfortunately, the kinds of things her mother enjoyed doing weren’t necessarily what Rachel would choose. Spending the day at the mall shopping and having their nails and makeup done weren’t exactly her favorite things to do. But her mother wasn’t
a fan of spending the day in the library or catching a minor league double header.

  As an adult, Rachel had been able to appreciate what her mother had been trying to do. And they had both realized that a nice long lunch was preferable to trying to do too much to have the kind of relationship Megan had with their mother. Rachel often wondered if she was like her father, or just reminded her mother of the mistake she’d made as an eighteen-year-old looking for a good time.

  Not surprisingly, she arrived at the restaurant before the others. She ordered an iced tea, hoping there wasn’t too much caffeine, but she hadn’t had so much as a cup of coffee or diet soda since she found out she was pregnant. It was probably better than anything else she could order without drawing questions from her mother and sister.

  She sipped slowly, so she wouldn’t have to turn down the waiter’s offer of a refill before her family arrived.

  Finally, they showed up. Her mother made quite an entrance, all big hair and a cloud of perfume. Rachel took shallow breaths before reaching for the lemon wedge in desperation. Sucking on the sour fruit was enough to keep her from gagging on the stench.

  “Sorry we’re late.” Lorraine Parker-Bradford brushed an air kiss across Rachel’s cheek before taking the chair opposite. “But parking is a nightmare in this city.”

  “Yes, parking is a bit of a challenge.” Rachel offered her sister the chair next to her.

  “I’ll bet you could just take a limo and not have to worry about it.” Megan’s tone held a slight note of contempt.

  “No limos. I used to take BART into the city when I lived in Walnut Creek, but now it’s easier to walk or take my own car.” Rachel didn’t want to get into it with her sister. They had never been especially close as kids. She’d been a little surprised when Megan asked her to be in her wedding. Pleased, but surprised. Through the dress fittings and shower planning, they had become almost like sisters.

  “You don’t still have that old Honda, do you?” Megan asked. Since her new husband was heir to Fresno’s biggest Toyota dealership, she was kind of a car snob.

  “No. Bryce and I decided to get something a little bigger.” As if she’d had any input on the vehicle.

  “It’s not a Toyota is it?” Megan asked. “Because Jeff could have gotten you a good deal.”

  “It’s a Range Rover, actually.” No, that didn’t sound snobby. “But if we ever decide to trade in the ’Vette, I’m sure Bryce would be happy to send some business your way.”

  “You have a Range Rover and a Corvette?”

  “The Corvette was given to Bryce when he won the World Series MVP.” A small surge of pride rose in Rachel’s chest. “I’m sure he’ll hang onto that car for a long time. He earned it.”

  “So when do we get to meet your husband?” Her mother never could stand it when the two sisters started getting into normal sibling squabbles. Distraction had always been her go-to tactic. If that didn’t work, she’d send Rachel outside and Megan to her room.

  “He’s on the road for a few more days.” Rachel had given up on trying to explain how her schedule wasn’t like most people’s. She didn’t get weekends off during the season. Not unless the team was on the road, and that was only about two weekends a month. And they never seemed to be the weekends her family had wanted her to come for a visit. “Maybe you could come to a game, drive up the night before and we could have brunch or something.”

  “Where is he playing now?” her sister asked.

  “They wrap up in Atlanta today.” She happened to glance over to the TV in the bar. Sure enough, the Goliaths game was underway. “They’re playing right now.”

  “Maybe we could move into the bar, and watch. I’d like to see my son-in-law in action.”

  Rachel flagged the waiter and they were quickly moved into the bar section of the restaurant. It wasn’t until they settled so they could each see the game that the waiter recognized her.

  “Rachel Parker, it’s an honor to have you in my section.” He offered an enthusiastic smile. “Or is it Rachel Baxter, now? Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks heated a little. She still wasn’t used to so many well-wishes by her fans.

  “He’s a lucky guy.”

  Her face felt even warmer. She knew most of her fans were Goliaths fans first. If she wasn’t covering the team, they would have no reason to even follow her. Sure, on occasion, she’d have an admirer. Always an awkward feeling.

  “Can I start you off with some drinks?” he asked.

  “I’m fine with my tea, thanks,” Rachel said.

  “Oh, maybe we should order some champagne,” her mother suggested.

  “No. That’s okay.” Rachel didn’t want to have to explain why she couldn’t toast her own marriage.

  “When do I get to celebrate my oldest daughter’s marriage?”

  “I’ll give you all a few minutes to decide.” The waiter gave a polite nod and a moment’s privacy.

  “We can celebrate without champagne. We didn’t even have any at the wedding.”

  “What, are you pregnant?” Megan was joking, but it was the truth.

  “Actually. Yes. I am.” It wasn’t exactly the way she’d planned on breaking the news to her mother, but now that she’d done it, she was relieved.

  “Pregnant? Really?” Lorraine put her hand over her heart, as if it was some great shock.

  “Yes, mother. I’m pregnant.” It actually did get easier the more times she said it. “And that is part of the reason we hurried the wedding, instead of waiting until the offseason.”

  If she hadn’t known better, she would have almost believed that they had been planning on tying the knot eventually, and the baby had just sped things up a bit.

  “I see.” Lorraine picked up a menu, glanced over it and set it back down. “So I guess I’m going to be a grandmother.”

  The waiter returned. “Have we decided on drinks?”

  “I’ll stick with water, thanks,” Rachel said.

  “I would like some champagne.” Her mother’s voice was tight, determined.

  “And for you?” The waiter glanced in Megan’s direction.

  “Oh, what the hell. I’ll toast my sister, too.”

  With a nod, he went off to bring them two glasses of California sparkling wine.

  After the waiter left with their lunch orders, Lorraine and Megan raised their glasses.

  “Congratulations, Rachel, on your marriage…” Her mother got just a little choked up. “And on your other happy news.”

  “Here, here.” Megan lifted her glass and then took a long swallow.

  Rachel simply smiled and hoped she could get through this luncheon.

  After they’d finished the toast, they each glanced silently at the television. The Goliaths were trailing 2-1 in the bottom of the fifth inning. Atlanta had two runners on base with only one out. Their hottest hitter was at the plate. Rachel focused her full attention on the game. Only part of it was because she wanted to see if the Goliaths would get out of the jam. She could really empathize with the starting pitcher. Neither of them were in a position they had planned on.

  The ball was hit sharply through the infield. But Bryce had been playing back at the edge of the grass, just a few steps away from the bag. He was able to dive and make the grab before it skittered into the outfield. From his knees, he flipped it to the second-baseman who fired a bullet to first base, beating the runner by a half a step. He’d made some amazing plays in his career, but this was one of the more difficult ones Rachel had ever seen.

  “Wow.” Megan set her half-empty glass on the table. “He’s really good, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” A lump welled up in Rachel’s throat. “He’s very good.”

  “So I never did hear how the two of you met.” Their mother was less impressed by the play.

  “The first time was at Fan Fest. I interviewed him, and all the other players.” She tried to recall if she’d felt anything different at that first meeting. Sure, he’d flirted with h
er a little, but she’d believed he was really just trying to charm the fans. “And then we ran into each other about a week later at a charity event—the Golden Gate Gala—and I guess you could say sparks flew between us.”

  “So, you’ve been dating since this Golden Gate Gala?” Her mother asked.

  “Well, on and off, I guess.” Rachel was relieved when their salads arrived. She had an excuse to pause and try to figure out how to explain her relationship with Bryce that had indeed started the night of the Gala.

  “You guess?” Her mother raised an eyebrow as she stabbed her arugula salad.

  “Neither of us were looking for a relationship when we met.” She sighed. “I had only recently broken up with Carter, and Bryce…”

  How did she explain that Bryce had been a free agent, in every sense of the word?

  “And so it was during one of these on-again times that you managed to get pregnant?”

  Rachel glanced up at the TV. “Oh look. Bryce is up to bat.”

  All three women turned to watch. There were two on and two outs. Bryce was behind in the count, with two strikes against him. Rachel held her breath as the pitch was released. Bryce swung his bat and made loud contact. The ball sailed towards the centerfield wall.

  Oh please, please go out.

  It sailed just inches over the fence. Three runs scored. And Rachel’s heart swelled in her chest.

  “Yes. That’s the Bryce Baxter we all know and love.” How many times had she said those very words on camera? Dozens?

  Her ribcage shrunk even more. She felt a wave of dizziness and she abruptly stood, pushed her chair back, and made a dash for the restroom.

  She pushed her way toward the larger handicapped stall. Gripping the handrail, she hovered over the toilet, waiting for the nausea to overtake her. Slowing her breathing and closing her eyes, she realized it wasn’t morning sickness that had her head spinning, it was the realization that she hadn’t done as good of a job at hiding her feelings for Bryce as she’d thought.