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

by Kristina Mathews

  Would he bump into them again in the morning? Or just her, as she slunk out of the room in the early morning hours, still wearing the same dress from the night before?

  That wasn’t the life he wanted either. Those women back at the bar were like the plastic key cards issued by the hotel. Interchangeable. Disposable. Used for the night and then tossed aside or left behind after checking out of the room.

  No, he didn’t want that life anymore. He’d grown tired of it maybe even before he’d met Rachel. But old habits die hard. It had been easier to keep doing what he’d always been doing. It was familiar. Safe. He’d known what the next morning would bring. An empty bed. A slight headache. And no messy emotions.

  Then he’d met Rachel. She’d left his bed, but she’d stuck around in his head. Maybe even his heart. It was messy. And in a few months it would get even messier. A kid.

  He didn’t want all that. He just wanted to play baseball. Win a championship. Get a long-term contract so he could play out his career and have something to be proud of. And he’d done it, made his dreams come true.

  Baseball had saved him more than once in his life. He had a feeling it could save him again. If he just focused on his game, then everything else would fall into place.

  It had to.

  Chapter 14

  The representative from the Harrison Foundation was right on time. Rachel signed the donation paperwork and then watched as a big burly guy loaded her faithful Honda onto the flatbed of his tow truck. How ridiculous was it for her to mourn the loss of a seven-year-old car? It was just a mode of transportation. It wasn’t as if she’d lost her virginity or conceived her child in the backseat or anything. It was just a car.

  Time to get over it. Seriously. She had a great new vehicle, and as the new car smell faded, she was getting used to it. Actually, she really liked driving the Range Rover. She was bigger than a lot of cars, so she felt somewhat more protected.

  “Are you sure you have everything out of the car that you need?” The tow truck driver wiped his palms on the front of his coveralls, almost as if he was nervous. “I could check one more time before I haul it off.”

  “No. I went through it.” Twice. “But thank you, Dave.”

  She glanced at the name stitched on the left side of his uniform. There was something almost familiar about the guy. Since she’d never had to call a towing service, she figured she may have met him at a game or something.

  “It’s my pleasure. Believe me.” His ears turned red, as did the skin above his dark brown beard. “I’m actually a big fan.”

  He kicked at a small piece of gravel in the street. “A really big fan.”

  “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure if he was referring to his size or the size of his admiration. Either way, she got that little shiver up her spine that made her just a little bit wary. He was a big dude, easily six-four, at least two-hundred fifty pounds. His hair was cut short, almost military style. He had a thick beard and his hands were like two catchers’ mitts.

  “No, thank you.” The guy looked down at his feet in an “aw-shucks” kind of way. “I’m just glad I got to meet you in person. And I’m happy for you. Really.”

  He lumbered over to the cab of his tow truck and gave a shy wave as he closed the door.

  Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat as she watched him drive away with a piece of her past.

  Time to get moving. She had a whole host of errands to run. She wasn’t quite ready for maternity clothes, but her jeans were getting a little snug. She figured she could go up a size if she chose the styles with a little bit of Lycra in them. She’d pick out a few blouses that would hide her expanding waistline. Hopefully that would get her through the next month or two until she was ready to inform her boss about her condition.

  Then she needed to go grocery shopping. She was almost out of her favorite conditioner, and she wanted to pick up a small gift for Bryce. Just because. Nothing she’d find could match a new car, but she wanted to show how much she appreciated everything he’d done. She just didn’t really know him well enough to know what he’d like. Other than the obvious, and she’d given him that enough times over the last year and a half. She’d give him that, too, because, well, it was a gift that gave right back.

  How was it that going a week without being in his bed was so much harder now? She’d gone months at a time before. But a small part of her knew she was hopelessly hooked on him. She should have gone on the road with him. He’d called her late last night—well, it was late in Philly, almost midnight. He’d gone out with his teammates to celebrate the win. He’d sounded tired, despite having had a great game. Their conversation had been short; it was obvious he was just checking in before turning in.

  Rachel made it to Macy’s and headed to her favorite section of designer jeans. She grabbed the next size up, and then after hesitating a moment, the size after that. After browsing for a few loose blouses, she had enough to take to the fitting room. Once inside she marveled at the subtle changes in her body. Her breasts were fuller, much to Bryce’s delight. Her belly was more rounded, but she didn’t exactly look pregnant. Yet.

  The first pair of jeans was too tight and she couldn’t even get them buttoned. Bummer. She knew size shouldn’t matter, but she’d long been conditioned to see the smaller number as better, which was ridiculous since every brand had a different version of what size actually fit.

  Next size up fit around her expanding waistline, but they were too loose in the hips and butt. She looked like she was wearing a saggy diaper. Definitely not going to work. But she couldn’t just walk over to the maternity section and start trying on clothes. It would be just her luck that she’d be recognized and then have to worry about it hitting the Internet. The last thing she’d need would be to have her boss find out she was pregnant on Twitter.

  She selected three blouses that would hide her baby bump. At least she hoped they would. After handing the jeans back to the dressing room attendant with a shrug, she went in search of a nightgown that would make Bryce realize just how much she appreciated him. And wanted him.

  The lingerie section was one of her least favorites. On one end, you had the body shapers. Hard-core Lycra meant to squeeze women into a size and shape that was unnatural. Some women raved at the miracle they offered. But for Rachel, the only miracle was that she had been able to get out of the darn device that one time she’d tried one on.

  At the other end of the spectrum were the racy, see-through, ooh-la-la numbers. Bras that offered no support but did come with feathers or rhinestones. And they came with matching G-strings. Because those were comfortable.

  Somewhere in the middle was where she was more comfortable. Sexy, but not overly sleazy. After some browsing, Rachel found a black satin chemise, it hugged her breasts and flowed over her belly, hitting mid-thigh. It made her feel pretty. And special. She just hoped Bryce would find it enticing. Especially if she skipped the matching thong altogether.

  By the time she checked out, she was starving. A good thing they had restaurants in the basement level of the department store. She could get some clam chowder from Boudin’s, pick up a chopped salad from Mixed Greens, or she could even stop by the Burger Bar, except she had a hard time stomaching red meat. She’d always appreciated a nice juicy steak now and again, just not since the pregnancy test came back positive. She couldn’t even watch those commercials with the dripping cheeseburgers.

  She settled on a salad and a small round of sourdough to keep with her in the car. She had a feeling it wouldn’t make it home.

  The next stop was to the grocery store to stock up on healthy, easy to stomach foods. Plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables, lean meats, mostly chicken and fish. She thought about picking up another loaf of bread, but she figured she could hit the sourdough store if she ran out. It wasn’t like she had a lot to do with Bryce and the team still on the road.

  She busied herself putting away groceries, weeding through old and expired condiments, and making a list of thin
gs she thought Bryce might want her to replace. Staples such as ketchup and mustard, hot sauce and soy sauce. She figured a bachelor living alone and on the road half the year might not use up even the smallest bottles of condiments.

  Sudden longing filled her. She missed him. Not just physically, but she’d gotten used to the goofy way he was trying so hard to make this work. Sure, he’d made mistakes. They both had. But he was trying to make the best of the situation and for that she was truly grateful.

  After starting a load of laundry, she hand washed the new nightgown and hung it up to dry in the shower. Sunday night couldn’t come fast enough for her. She just hoped Bryce would still want her when he returned. She hoped he’d be turned on by the black satin, and not appalled by the fact that none of her jeans fit her anymore.

  Glancing over at his dresser, she wondered if she would fit into his jeans. Not that she could wear them to work, but to get through the weekend. She pulled on a pair of faded Levi’s. They were a little loose, but infinitely more comfortable than leaving the top button undone and the zipper pulled down. While she was at it, she grabbed one of his long sleeved t-shirts and pulled it on. Why not? She wasn’t going anywhere the rest of the day. If she couldn’t have Bryce, she’d have the next best thing.

  Sitting on the plush leather sofa, wearing Bryce’s clothes, she watched him on TV. He was having a great game. He looked much more like the Bryce of last season when nothing could stop him on or off the field. Rachel was happy for him, even as she was ordering her first three pairs of maternity jeans online.

  This was really happening. She was really sitting in Bryce’s apartment, in his clothes, carrying his child. They were married. She twirled the ring on her left hand, marveling at the size and the weight of it. Not just the ring, but all of it.

  She desperately wanted to believe that it was all going to be okay. They would somehow manage to make a life together. To have a family.

  As she watched Bryce round the bases on his second home run of the night, she wiped the tears from her face and hoped that it was a sign of good things to come.

  Chapter 15

  Bryce continued to have a good series and the Goliaths ended up sweeping in Philly. He finally felt as though he was getting back on track. It helped that he didn’t have any distractions while on the road. He woke up, had breakfast, and reported to the ballpark for his workouts before game time. He finally had his head back in the game where it belonged.

  Sure, he checked in with Rachel every night, but their conversations had been short. Everything was fine on her end; she was feeling better, and getting used to the new car. She was just taking it easy while she could. Who knew when she’d have to cover an extra inning game that went deep into the night?

  So yeah, he was feeling pretty good as he packed up his locker in the visitors’ clubhouse. The bus to the airport would load shortly, and it would be a happy flight.

  “Mr. Baxter?” A stern voice interrupted his solitude.

  He turned to find a uniformed police officer standing a few feet away, an iPad in hand.

  “Yes, can I help you?” He had no idea what Philadelphia’s finest would want with him.

  “I hope so. I have some questions about an incident that occurred at the Ritz-Carlton Thursday night.” The officer said.

  “We checked in Thursday after flying in from Atlanta.” Bryce had no reason to hide anything.

  “And were you in the bar between the hours of ten PM and midnight?”

  “I stopped to have a drink with a few teammates, but I’m sure I left well before midnight.”

  “And what about your teammates? What time did they leave?”

  “After me, I guess. I really don’t know. I had a couple of beers and then turned in for the night.”

  “Do you recall a young lady named Angela Hartman?”

  “There were a couple of ladies who showed up. I think one of them was named Angelina or something like that. I wasn’t really interested. See, I’m a married man.” Bryce held up his wedding ring, as if to prove it.

  “Ms. Hartman says she arrived with two friends, and they met up with some ballplayers from San Francisco.”

  “Yeah, I guess that was her, then.” He remembered how predatory she’d seemed. She’d been after something, And he’d learned the hard way that girls like her could be looking for a good time or looking for a sugar daddy. Another reason to be grateful he had Rachel. He could put that kind of nonsense behind him.

  “Do you know which of your teammates she hooked up with?”

  “Nope. Sorry.” He didn’t like where this was going. “Like I said, I turned in early. All I wanted was to relax with my friends, have a beer or two. But then these gals showed up, dressed to kill, and I was out of there. The whole scene got old for me a while ago.”

  “Ms. Hartman was sexually assaulted by one of your teammates.”

  “What? No. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” He had to weigh his words carefully. “I mean, she was definitely looking for some action.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Oh shit. He was in a real tough spot. First of all, he’d been there. Angelina had been on the prowl. From her tight clothing, her overdone makeup, and the way she practically crawled into his lap trying to reach the wine list. But he couldn’t say that. He’d sound like a misogynistic jerk. But he also knew his teammates. Sure, they had been looking for a good time, but he didn’t think any of them would take it too far. Would they?

  “Look, I’ve been around awhile. And I’ve met my share of groupies, cleat chasers, whatever you want to call them. I know when a woman is looking to score with a ballplayer. And these women were most certainly looking to score. Angelina, or Angela, whatever her name is, she tried to come on to me, but when I turned her down, twice, she turned her attention to the rookie.”

  Shit. He shouldn’t have said that.

  “Does this rookie have a name?”

  “What does any of this have to do with me?”

  “Ms. Hartman could only identify you out of the four players in the bar. She did clarify that you were not one of the men who assaulted her, but you were the only one she knew by name.”

  “What do you mean ‘one of the men’?” There was no way the guys had pulled any kind of crap like that.

  “She said that there was a lot of alcohol involved and she didn’t remember how she got to the room, only that she woke up naked and violated.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t help you with that.” Bryce ran a hand through his hair. “I was there for maybe one round of drinks after the girls showed up.”

  “Can you tell us the names of the other players who were there that night?”

  “Doesn’t the bartender have the charge slips?”

  “Just yours. The rest of the guys paid cash.”

  “Of course they did.” Bryce was getting annoyed with this whole conversation.

  “Look, Mr. Baxter, this is a serious matter. I know guys like you are used to getting away with things, but not in my city.”

  “I’m not trying to get away with anything. I’m just trying to get on a bus and get home to my wife.”

  “And I’m trying to do my job.”

  “I really don’t know what happened after I left. It looked like everyone was having a good time. I don’t know if anyone hooked up with anyone. It really is none of my business.”

  “You Goliaths players are known as a tight-knit group. A band of brothers. You’d do anything for each other.”

  “On the field, absolutely.”

  “So why are covering for your brothers in this case?”

  “Oh, is there a case? Should I get a lawyer?”

  “You don’t need a lawyer.”

  “Good. Because I’d much rather get home to my wife.”

  “So you said. A few times. Sounds like someone’s trying a little too hard to play the dutiful husband card.”

  Bryce shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

  “You married?
”

  The police officer nodded.

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen your wife?”

  “This morning.”

  “I haven’t seen my wife in over a week. So yeah, I’m anxious to see her. But first I have to get on that bus. Then a plane will take me to San Francisco, home to my wife.”

  The clubhouse door opened, Ryan Fletcher came in. “Hey, Bryce, you’re holding up the bus.”

  He looked at Bryce, then looked at the police officer. His face drained of color. The officer picked up on it and turned his questioning toward Ryan.

  “Were you in the hotel bar Thursday night?”

  Ryan simply nodded.

  “And did you meet a woman named Angela Hartman?”

  “She said her name was Angelina.” Ryan’s voice had a nervous edge to it. “But nothing happened, I swear. She fell asleep. I tried to wake her up before I left for the ballpark but she was out cold. I made sure she was breathing and left a trash can by the bed, in case she got sick.”

  “Well, Ms. Hartman has reported a sexual assault.”

  “No sir. We made out a little in the elevator.” Ryan’s face was red now. “And the bar. But that’s it. We went back to my room, but like I said, she fell asleep before we could, you know, do anything.”

  “I’m going to let Javier know we might need a few more minutes.” Bryce had heard enough. He believed Ryan. He’d been there, that chick was all over him. But to pass out and then go on to accuse the poor kid of rape was low.

  Bryce kind of felt as if he had something to do with this whole nightmare. He’d passed her off on Ryan. He was just a kid. He still hadn’t figured out how to turn down an attractive woman who seemed to want nothing more than to stroke a guy’s ego, among other things.

  Hell, Bryce had only recently figured that one out.

  Finally, about a half hour later, Ryan boarded the bus. He looked weary and dejected and a little scared.