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

by Kristina Mathews

  A few more slow, steady breaths helped to calm her nerves. She grabbed the paper cover and spread it over the seat, deciding to make use of the facilities while she was there. She was just washing up when her sister arrived.

  “Are you okay?” Megan had a look of genuine concern on her face.

  “Yes. Thanks. False alarm.” She wet a paper towel and patted the back of her neck. “The morning sickness tends to creep up on me suddenly.”

  “Is it…horrible?”

  “It was when I threw up on Bryce’s Corvette.”

  After what seemed like forever, they both broke out into shared laughter.

  “You threw up on his car?”

  “Yes.” Rachel had never been so mortified in her life.

  “That is horrible.”

  “It was. But somehow he forgave me.”

  “He married you.”

  “Yes. He did.” Rachel was still amazed at how it had happened.

  “And you’re going to have a baby?”

  Rachel just nodded, her emotions too raw to speak.

  “I’m a little jealous,” Megan admitted.

  Still, at a loss for words, Rachel just stood there.

  “I want a baby so much.” Megan blinked as if she was trying to keep tears at bay. “But we decided we were going to wait two years.”

  “Your anniversary is only a couple of months away.”

  “Yeah. I know. But…” Megan wrapped her arms around herself. “Jeff seems to be putting it off. He says the business is crazy right now, he doesn’t know how he’ll keep up. I’m starting to think maybe he doesn’t want to have a baby at all.”

  Rachel didn’t know what to say. They’d never been close. Megan was six years younger. By the time Megan was old enough to play with, Rachel had outgrown playing with dolls and Candyland. She’d been more of a tomboy, preferring to play sports or climb trees.

  “It’s just not fair,” Megan whined. “You get to have everything. You’re rich. You’ve got a hot baseball player for a husband. You live in San Francisco. And you get to have a baby.”

  “Bryce makes a lot of money right now, but it won’t last.” She’d seen enough former players who ended up nearly broke just a few years after their bodies gave out. “And living in the city is exciting, but there are tradeoffs. Look at your house. It’s beautiful and brand new and you have a garage and a big backyard. Bryce’s apartment is nice and has great views, but only a tiny balcony.”

  And just like that, Rachel could picture what she wanted. A house. With a yard. And good schools. And while the Range Rover wasn’t a minivan, it was a family car. A modern day version of the station wagon. She could picture a garage full of sports equipment, baby seats and a booster chair in the backseat. And if she tried real hard, she could picture Bryce sitting next to her. If she tried hard enough she could picture the family she’d always wanted.

  “Well, what good is a backyard if there’s no one to play in it?” Megan pushed her way past Rachel and out of the bathroom, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. Rachel followed, wishing she could be a better sister and offer some sort of comfort, but jealousy was hard to just brush off. She should know. She’d been jealous of her baby sister her whole life.

  They walked back to the table just in time to watch the Goliaths record the final out. Bryce’s homerun had sealed the win. With a headset on, he was being interviewed by Kip and Kurt from the booth.

  “That shot reminded me of the one you hit in game one of the World Series last year,” Kip said. “It must feel pretty good to get your swing back.”

  “It feels pretty good to help the team win.” Last fall, he would have taken the compliment and run with it. He would have said something about how it was just the beginning and he would keep hitting the home runs.

  “You helped the team with that spectacular double-play,” Kurt added.

  “Just doing my job. The best I can.” Bryce started to run his hands through his hair, but he seemed to remember he was wearing a headset. He’d knock it off if he wasn’t careful.

  Bryce continued with the interview, a little more subdued than usual.

  “So that’s my son-in-law?” Her mother watched the interview with added interest. “The father of my grandchild?”

  “Yes. That’s him.”

  “What’s with the hair?”

  Rachel laughed. “It’s his signature look, I guess. I’ve gotten used to it.”

  “It’s kind of hot,” her sister added.

  Rachel shot her a look. “Hey, that’s my husband.”

  “Oh, come on. He is hot. Even mom thinks so.”

  “He is a nice-looking young man.” Their mother’s cheeks pinked. “Even with the hair.”

  Her mother and sister seemed to be having a good time. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the bond the two of them had with each other. But they seemed to be in on something Rachel didn’t share. But then again, Rachel had always been the outsider, standing on the sidelines of her own family. Mom, Megan, and Megan’s dad were a unit. Rachel was the bastard child, complete with red hair.

  Chapter 13

  “Hey, you coming out with us tonight?” Diego Garcia, the Goliaths closer, asked Bryce as they were getting off the bus at the hotel in Philadelphia. “Oh man, I forget, you’re an old married man now. No more fun times on the road.”

  “I’m married. That doesn’t mean I’m dead.” Bryce was feeling pretty good after the game and the happy flight from Atlanta. “I can still grab a beer now and then.”

  “Yeah, but no more blondes, huh?”

  “Who needs blondes when I have a gorgeous redhead at home?” Bryce made up his mind to join the party. Sure, he wouldn’t be going home with anyone, but that didn’t mean he had to hole up in his hotel room.

  “I still don’t know how you landed Rachel Parker.” Diego shook his head in admiration. “She’s too good for you.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “I thought she was pretty smart, too.”

  Bryce took the good-natured ribbing from his teammate. That’s what guys did. They razzed each other. And Bryce often wondered himself how he’d managed to get Rachel to hook up with him in the first place. She wasn’t like the women he usually went out with. She was smart, talented, and not at all impressed by his job. Sure, she was impressed by his play, when he played well, but she wasn’t impressed that he was an athlete. She spent enough time in the clubhouse to know they were just as full of shit as anyone else.

  Bryce looked down at the gold band on his left hand. He still couldn’t believe it sometimes. Kind of like he couldn’t believe he had that other ring, the one with his name and the team name and all those diamonds.

  He met Diego and a few other guys at the hotel bar. He was looking forward to kicking back with his teammates, having a couple of beers, and not having to think. About his contract, his wife, or the kid who would be here in a few months.

  “There he is,” Diego shouted when Bryce entered the bar. “Did you have to get permission from the little woman to come out tonight?”

  “Nah. She trusts me.” Did she? Maybe more than she did a few months ago. He’d talked to her right after the game. She had gone to lunch with her mother and sister. Her voice had that false optimism she’d have during a seven-game losing streak. He wondered what the history was there. Everyone had issues from their childhood. Why would Rachel be any different?

  Bryce took an empty chair next to the relief pitcher. They had chosen a table off to the side, with a clear view of the room. The other guys were obviously keeping their options open.

  The cocktail waitress gave Bryce an appreciative smile as she took his order for a beer.

  “Here you go.” She lingered just a little longer than necessary after delivering his drink. Her eyes took in all of him. “Is there anything else I can get you? Anything at all?”

  “I think I’m good here, thanks. But I’ll let you know if I think of something.” He returned the smile along with a big t
ip. Bryce believed in taking care of his waitresses. He knew they worked long, hard hours, on their feet, for little money. A lot of their customers were rude, cheap, and demanding. If she did her job well, he always rewarded her with a generous tip. If she was friendly and accommodating, he’d offer a little of his trademark charm. Even if she was clueless or incompetent, he still treated her with dignity. He’d ask for her to fix her mistakes and when she did, he’d tip her adequately and send her off with a smile.

  “Damn, I thought she was going to crawl into your lap,” Diego teased. “Maybe you need to wear a sign around your neck that says, ‘Sorry ladies, I’m taken.’”

  “I don’t need a sign.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Some chicks would just take that as a challenge. You have a hard enough time fending off the ladies.”

  “That’s why I hang out with guys like you.” Bryce took a long drink. “You scare them all away.”

  “Hey now!” Diego gave him a quick jab in the arm. “I don’t scare them all away. Some of them feel sorry for me.”

  Just as Diego said it, a group of three women entered the bar. They had that look. The tallest one, a brunette, locked in on their table. A slow smile spread over her face as she made eye contact with Bryce. He knew the signs. They were willing to play the game. A game he’d played too many times. A game with unwritten rules, and all the players knew how things worked.

  She sauntered over; her long legs looked as if she’d been dipped in denim. Her silky silver halter clung in all the right places. Her long hair had been carefully arranged to look like she’d just rolled out of bed. Long, dangly earrings competed with the shiny gloss on her lips to draw a man’s attention.

  Behind her, a blonde and another brunette—this one with light brown hair—were less flashy, but still decked out to show off what they had.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” the tall brunette addressed them all, but she didn’t take her eyes off Bryce. “Is that the wine list?”

  She leaned over, revealing a hint of black lace, as she reached for the wine list that sat on the table in front of Bryce.

  “Help yourself.” Bryce leaned back in his chair, hoping she’d get the hint he wasn’t interested.

  “So, are you boys in town for work?” She did a quick glance around the table. “Or for play?”

  “Both.” Diego, on the other hand, did seem interested. “Considering we play for a living, you could definitely say both.”

  “Oh, and what do you play?” The woman gave Bryce one last smoldering look before turning her attention to Diego.

  “We play to win.” Diego said, scooting his chair back to make room for the ladies to join them. “Have a seat, we’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Sounds fabulous.” She took the chair between Bryce and Diego. “I’m Angelina. These are my friends, Tori and Elyse.”

  “Diego Garcia.” The pitcher introduced himself first. “These are my teammates, Bryce Baxter, Gavin Owens, and the rookie here is Ryan Fletcher.”

  “What team do you play for?” Angelina asked as her friends took the two chairs on the end.

  “We’re World Champion San Francisco Goliaths.” Diego flashed his World Series ring. He was one of the few players who wore it in public. “Except for the rookie, here. He’s the only one of us here without a ring.”

  “Yet. I’m the only one here without a ring yet. There’s still time to go for back-to-back championships.” Ryan leaned in, flashing the kind of cocky, yet green smile that reminded Bryce a little of his younger self.

  “So what position do you play?” Tori, or maybe it was Elyse, leaned in.

  “I’m an infielder.” Ryan didn’t add backup. “Diego here is our closer.”

  At her blank stare, he explained that the closer was the relief pitcher who came in for the last three outs to close out the game. He didn’t go into the details of what constituted a save.

  “So you’re a pitcher.” Tori was the blonde. At least, he thought that was her name. “And that’s really a World Series ring?”

  She scooted closer to Diego, who obliged by holding out his ring.

  “Oh my God, that is a ridiculous amount of diamonds.”

  “Damn straight. But every single one of them was earned.” Diego started to puff up, knowing he had a good chance of getting laid tonight. “Most of them by our friend Bryce. The MVP. We wouldn’t have gotten there without him.”

  “I just got the trophy.” For the first time in his life, Bryce didn’t care for the attention to swing in his direction. He didn’t need to impress anyone, especially not any of these girls. And they were girls. None of them could be older than twenty-three. He was pretty sure they were all over eighteen, since they were out on a school night. “But there were twenty-five guys who got us there.”

  “Wait, I thought there were only nine guys on a team.” Elyse finally joined the conversation.

  “There are nine starting players,” Gavin explained. “But there are twenty-five on the roster. Usually five starting pitchers, six or seven relievers and the rest are bench players. Backups for when the regulars need a rest or if someone gets hurt.”

  “Are you a starter or a backup?” Elyse moved in, giving the impression she was interested no matter what he said.

  “I was a backup last year,” Gavin told her. “But I’ve been getting a lot of starts at second base this season.”

  “Second base, huh?” She puffed up so that her second base was prominent. “You like second base?”

  “Oh yeah. I love second base.” He dropped his gaze to her breasts. Two down. That left the rookie for Angelina.

  “So what position do you play, Bryce Baxter?” She practically purred.

  “I’m a shortstop.”

  “And do you wear your ring?”

  “Just my wedding ring.” He flashed the simple gold band. No diamonds. No sparkle. Just a commitment.

  Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at his left hand. As if his marriage was a personal affront.

  “So where is your wife tonight?” She asked in a way that was part challenge, part contempt.

  “She’s home in San Francisco.” He really didn’t want to get into it with her. Especially since she didn’t seem to give a shit that he was a married man.

  “So why doesn’t she come support you when you’re on the road?”

  “She doesn’t need to follow me around all the time.” Bryce was getting irritated at having to defend his wife. His marriage. “She supports me in a lot of ways. Sometimes staying home and taking care of the little things is even bigger than being there when I get off the field.”

  “Somehow I get the feeling you don’t have any little needs.” Someone should put this girl out of her misery. If that was supposed to be a come on, or compliment, it was like one of Diego’s infamous scuds. A pitch that bounced so far out of the strike zone it might as well be a misguided missile.

  Bryce drained his glass, but before he could make his excuses, the waitress had come around again.

  “The next round is on me.” He smiled at the waitress, waiting until she’d taken everyone’s orders before handing over his card. As soon as he’d signed the charge slip, he excused himself from the party.

  Angelina gave him a pouty look before sliding over to take on the rookie. He hoped Ryan was up for a challenge. She was going to be a piece of work. Not sure if she’d be worth the piece of ass.

  He nodded to his teammates, said goodbye to the ladies, and made his way to the elevator.

  He had stepped inside, punched his floor number into the panel, when a harried looking man with a baby strapped to his chest, a toddler in a stroller, and diaper bag slung over his shoulder called out to hold the elevator.

  “Thanks man. I appreciate it.”

  “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

  “You have no idea.” The guy patted the baby, who was starting to fuss. “This Mr. Mom thing is a lot harder than it looks. Especially when my wife gets bumped from her flight. Sh
e’ll be spending a quiet night in Denver, alone, while I’ve got to figure out how to get them down after they both slept during the whole flight.”

  Bryce just gave a sympathetic nod, hoping the kids would settle down soon. He was starting to get a headache.

  “I quit my job when my wife took the promotion.” The guy bounced slightly, trying to calm the baby. “She’d have to travel more, she said, but the money would be worth it.”

  Bryce tried to smile in sympathy. But the subject of money was never something he discussed with anyone other than his agent.

  “Sometimes I wonder, you know. She gets home after the kids are in bed. She’s out the door before they wake up. And sex? Forget about it.”

  How did you politely tell a stranger that he was oversharing?

  “This was supposed to be a mini-vacation for us. Before she heads to London for three weeks. But now, we’ll be lucky if we get a whole weekend.”

  The baby’s fussing turned into full-blown crying. The toddler joined in, and Bryce was more than relieved when the trio got off three floors later.

  He sank against the back of the elevator. Was that what his life was going to be like? Would Rachel keep working even when his contract was up? When his body gave out? Would he be hobbling around, trying to lift a squirming toddler with a shoulder that had turned a few too many double plays?

  He wasn’t ready for diapers, midnight feedings, and trying to juggle work schedules that happened to be the same. They’d have to hire a nanny, since there weren’t many day care centers open from three to midnight.

  The elevator stopped on his floor. He stepped into the hallway, trying to remember which direction his room was in. After a while, the hotels all started to look alike. Two nights at one hotel, three at the next.

  The elevator next to him opened and a couple tore themselves apart. The woman smoothed her hair while the man reached into his pocket for his room key.

  “This is my floor.” The guy sounded a little like he was afraid she’d come to her senses before they got to the room.

  She followed, still fussing over her dress, as if she needed to make herself presentable before they tore each other’s clothes off once they got behind closed doors.