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

by Kristina Mathews

  “Sounds like good advice.”

  “Yeah, well, when the World Series MVP talks, a smart man listens.”

  “Bryce does know his baseball.” Rachel felt her cheeks warm just a little. Maybe someday she wouldn’t feel like her relationship with Bryce was somewhat scandalous.

  “I’m just honored to be able to work with him. Have him as a teammate.”

  A sudden flood of emotion filled her. Pride was only part of it.

  “I hope I’ll be able to learn from him for years to come.”

  “Just as long as you don’t try to take his spot.” Rachel could tease now, as Bryce’s game was turning around. He’d had a great road trip. The pressure of the contract seemed to be lifting. She liked to think she was helping get his mind off the incredible salary he was pulling in and focus on the game, their marriage, and their growing family.

  “I’m more of a third baseman,” Ryan admitted. “But I can fill in at any of the infield spots if needed.”

  “I look forward to seeing more of you on the field.” Rachel gave a polite nod to signal the interview was coming to an end, but before she could send it back up to the broadcast booth, Bryce appeared with a shaving cream pie which he shoved in Ryan’s face.

  Ah, the age-old prank welcoming the young player into the exclusive club of major league home run hitters. Nothing like a face full of Barbasol to make a guy feel successful.

  Marco Santiago came up and gave him a pat on the back with one hand and offered a towel with the other. Ryan wiped his face, removing most of the white foam, but not the grin that made him look even younger than his twenty-four years.

  With a final congratulations, Rachel smiled and signed off from the interview. Carl switched the camera off and started packing his equipment away. Another night at the ballpark had come to an end. The players would return to the clubhouse to shower and then make themselves available for the beat writers and national networks. She would wait until Bryce was released before they could go home.

  Rachel relaxed her shoulders and let out a tired sigh. It had been a long couple of days, and they were barely two months into the season. She hoped she could make it through the next four or five months without becoming too exhausted. Especially as her pregnancy advanced, she wondered how she could maintain her energy level without the aid of caffeine.

  She stifled a yawn before noticing that Ryan Fletcher was still standing in front of the dugout. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to hit the shower and wash off the evidence of his acceptance on the team.

  “Um, excuse me Ms. Parker… Or is it Mrs. Baxter?”

  “You can call me Rachel.” The kid had a genuineness and she couldn’t help but like him.

  “Okay, Rachel.” His cheeks turned a deep red. “I…uh… I wanted to thank you. You know, for not mentioning what happened in Philadelphia. I’m sure you’ve seen the video.”

  “I was shown the video.” She felt bad for him. She also couldn’t help but wonder if a similar video existed somewhere of her and Bryce. There was that one stairwell in the hotel in Dallas after the Goliaths had won the World Series… “But I think most of our viewers are much more interested in your first major league home run than anything else.”

  “I’d like to think so, but…” He shifted uncomfortably, his large frame all arms and legs, reminding her of a puppy who hadn’t quite grown into his feet. “Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t ask any of those kinds of questions. Especially since… Well, I wouldn’t want you to think I was the kind of guy who’d, you know, take advantage of a woman like that.”

  “I’d hope not.” She wanted to believe the best about their Goliaths family. “Besides, it looked like she was more than a willing partner.”

  “See that’s the thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “By the time I realized she was so drunk, I didn’t know what to do about it. So, I kind of hung out in the bathroom, hoping she’d just fall asleep. Only she took off all her clothes first and flopped down on the bed. I covered her as best I could, and I swear, I did not have sex with that woman.”

  “I believe you.” And she did. “I hope others will, too. If you’re innocent, then you shouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.”

  “But we both know this won’t be the end of it.” Ryan toed the dirt in front of the dugout. “Some people will always believe the worst. They’ll always question me.”

  “Then maybe you should come up with a statement. Honest, concise, and heartfelt. Just like you told me. I think if you hold your head high, go about your business—the business of baseball—with dignity and respect, you’ll be fine.”

  “I appreciate your faith in me.” He looked up at her with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Especially since…Well, you’re one of my favorite reporters. And you’re married to my teammate.”

  The darkening of his cheeks only made him seem more genuine. Or maybe he was just incredibly charming. Again, she noticed the resemblance between him and Bryce. They could almost be brothers. A protective instinct rose in her.

  “Look, here’s what you should say, when the question comes up.” She wanted to help him. As long as his story was true. “Although the video shows what looks like an act of foreplay, there was no further sexual contact. The reason the young woman doesn’t remember what happened once we got to the room is that nothing happened.”

  “I think I can say that.”

  “If they keep pressing, you’ll want to mention something about her not being able to give consent due to her level of intoxication.”

  “I don’t want to make her look bad.”

  “The girl didn’t even remember your name,” Rachel reminded him. “She went to the police and dragged my husband’s name through the mud.”

  “I’m so sorry about that.” He looked almost pained. “I’m just glad you and Bryce are solid. You have faith in him, and won’t let this come between you two.”

  If he only knew how close she’d been to believing the worst.

  “You’re kind of an inspiration.” He flashed a shy grin. “You and Bryce. I just hope that someday I’ll meet a woman like you. Someone who will be strong enough to withstand the rumors. Someone who would make it impossible to even consider doing anything rumor worthy.”

  Ah, to be so young and idealistic.

  “Well, you probably won’t meet a woman like that in a bar.”

  “Or an elevator.” Ryan Fletcher replaced his cap and retreated to the clubhouse.

  Rachel couldn’t wait to get home. It had been a long day. A long couple of days. She just hoped this whole incident would blow over, but she couldn’t help but think Ryan’s homerun would only add fuel to the media fire. If he remained firmly planted on the bench, the story would fade a lot quicker. But an up-and-coming star might sell more copies or ad-clicks or airtime. And throw in a sex-tape, even if it was taken from a hotel security camera, it would create even more buzz.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about Bryce being a part of it. Sure his name had been mentioned in the initial report, and she knew some people would never keep reading beyond the headline until they uncovered actual facts, but that was their problem, not hers.

  Her problem was that she had initially jumped on the bandwagon of doubt. She’d believed the worst before Bryce had a chance to even give his side of the story. She’d let his reputation speak louder than his actions since they’d married. She’d let her own insecurities override what she’d come to know about the man he’d shown himself to be.

  Bryce emerged from the clubhouse, his hair glistening from his shower, and whatever sponsored product he used to make his hair so soft and shiny. A good wife would know these things. But when he smiled at her, she forgot her own name, let alone what brand of shampoo either one of them used.

  “You weren’t too hard on my boy tonight were you?” Bryce put his arm around her waist.

  “Did you adopt him?” she teased. “Because that’s one of those joint decisions we should make together.”

  “
Like purchasing a new vehicle?”

  “I like the car, okay. I didn’t mean to freak out about it.” She was starting to relax a bit and enjoy Bryce’s playful side. She had come to realize that the more he joked about something, the more it meant to him.

  “I don’t know, maybe I should have gotten you a minivan.”

  “No. Definitely not. Unless you do plan on adopting a few rookies.”

  “We’d need a bigger place.” Bryce grinned. He was in his element. “Although from what I’ve heard, Fletcher is a pro at sleeping in chairs.”

  When Rachel gave him a puzzled look, he explained. “From what he told me, when he found that girl passed out on his bed, he slept in the chair. It’s a miracle he was able to even lift the bat, let alone crush one over the fence.”

  “Can we not discuss the incident in the hotel anymore?” She was sick of the subject. Now that she knew it didn’t affect her husband or her family, she would rather talk about anything else. Including minivans, school districts, and even white picket fences.

  “What incident?” Bryce pulled her even closer. “Let’s go home, babe.”

  Home. She was finally starting to believe that they could make a home together. A shelter from the outside world. A place where they could each be who they were, not who they pretended to be for the camera.

  * * * *

  It was too early in the season to feel this tired. Bryce leaned back into the plush leather seat of Rachel’s new Range Rover. She’d insisted on driving, and he was wiped out enough to let her. Besides, it felt like a truce of sorts, her accepting the car. Accepting the idea of being married to him.

  Maybe he was the one who was coming around. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d vowed to never get married again. To never have more kids. And here he was in a rushed marriage with a baby on the way. His career was at its peak and the idea of settling down was actually starting to appeal to him.

  Especially after the fiasco in Philly.

  He felt bad for Fletcher. The guy had been in the big leagues for a little over a month, and people weren’t going to remember his first home run. They’d remember that stupid elevator video. The guy could hit 780 home runs and people would still talk about the elevator. At least that would be the first thing to pop up in a Google search.

  And the kid had never even gotten laid.

  Bryce must have chuckled out loud because Rachel turned to him and asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, actually.” He looked over at his wife. His wife. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and her earrings dangled from her earlobes. She was beautiful. And she was his. He’d do well to make sure she stayed his. “I was just thinking about stuff.”

  “Did you ever get to talk to your daughter?”

  “No. I kept getting Jillian’s voice mail.” He exhaled in frustration. The woman had no problem getting a hold of him if she needed something. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “I told my boss about the baby.” Rachel turned her attention back to the road. “I told him we wanted to keep it quiet until your daughter knows. But he wants us to really embrace the pregnancy. Get the fans involved.”

  “He wants what?” He must be more tired than he’d thought. “Get the fans involved in what exactly?”

  “You know, just get them excited for us. Put updates on my social media pages. Invite them to share tips, maybe bring a camera along to Babies”R”Us. Nothing too invasive.”

  “Cameras?”

  “I told him I’d have to run it by you. If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, we can scale it back.”

  “I’m comfortable with whatever you’re comfortable with.” This was her thing, the media. Television. He’d be perfectly happy to just play ball. But he knew it didn’t work that way. If it weren’t for the television contracts, he wouldn’t be pulling in the kind of change he was making. If the fans didn’t feel a part of the game, they wouldn’t plunk down their hard-earned money on tickets, T-shirts and jerseys, and even game-used batting helmets.

  “I’m not sure how much I’m comfortable with,” Rachel admitted as she pulled into the parking garage. “I mean, I get that the promotional theme this year is ‘We are Goliaths. We are Family.’ But that doesn’t mean I want to invite them all to my baby shower, virtual or otherwise.”

  “What’s a virtual baby shower?”

  “I don’t know. Something my producer came up with. I think he overestimates the fans’ interest in all this.” She shut off the engine and looked a Bryce. “I’m not having a camera in the delivery room. Or anyone other than you and the doctor and the nurses. No contests to name the baby. It’s a child, not a promo opportunity.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they would do a prenatal care awareness night.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “I was joking, but actually, it’s not a bad idea. Maybe pair with the local hospitals and clinics. I’m sure there is a need in the community for low-cost prenatal care.”

  “I think most of the promotions are already set, but I’ll mention it.” She gave him a watery smile as she reached for her seatbelt. “We’re really doing this? We’re really going to have a baby. Together.”

  “Absolutely together.” Bryce reached for her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Rachel, I—”

  He almost said “I love you,” but he was afraid she wasn’t ready to hear it. Funny. He’d always thought he’d be the one to bolt at the thought of falling in love.

  “You’re doing it again.” Rachel shook her head. “You’re laughing at some private joke. You want to let me in on it?”

  “Someday.” Bryce leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

  Besides, he didn’t want to say it for the first time sitting in the parking garage. No. He’d have to make it extra special. Their wedding had been rushed, and kind of a blur. He’d thought the proposal was romantic, and so did the forty thousand fans who’d witnessed it, but Rachel had been more embarrassed than impressed. He’d have to do a much better job of this.

  Chapter 20

  The home stand went all too quickly. They’d played nine games in ten days. Won six of them. It was starting to look like the Goliaths had shaken off their World Series hangover and were getting back to championship form. Bryce had been playing a lot better and he credited Rachel for most of it.

  Rachel. Sometimes he’d sit in the dugout and take a deep breath, realizing just how lucky he was to have her. How lucky he was, period.

  It was late in the game on the final night before they would take off on another road trip, this time to Washington D.C. and then Pittsburgh. He looked out at the packed ballpark. The night sky was crystal clear, without so much as a trace of fog. A few seagulls were swirling around, not yet ready to make their assault on the stands in their search for leftover popcorn and garlic fries.

  Bryce leaned back against the wall of the dugout, stretching his legs in front of him. In the sanctuary of the dugout, he realized he wasn’t a screw-up. He’d managed to actually make something of himself. And he brought a lot of joy to people around him. His teammates had come to rely on his defense at shortstop, and he had become more consistent with his hitting, enough that he’d been named National League Player of the Week.

  He wondered what his mother thought of him now. Did she still think he was out of control? Too hard to handle? Did she ever watch his games? Was she ever sorry she’d left?

  At least Rachel had stuck around. She’d even come to trust him. They had settled into a comfortable routine. It was a lot more comfortable than he’d ever envisioned. He always thought he’d feel trapped by marriage. He certainly had the first time around. And while both marriages had started under similar circumstances, they could not be more different.

  He enjoyed spending time with Rachel. Instead of itching to get out of the city, he was dreading this road trip. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing he would see his daughter. It had ta
ken three days before Jillian had her call at a time when he’d been able to talk. She didn’t sound terribly excited about the idea of having a little brother or sister, but she probably figured she’d never see him or her. Never get to play with her sibling.

  That was something he would have to work on. Maybe he could convince Rachel to travel with him. At least until the child started school. But maybe by then, he’d be ready to retire. No. He couldn’t imagine life without baseball.

  And it was getting harder and harder to imagine life without Rachel.

  He still hadn’t told her he loved her. He’d come close several times. When they were in bed together, basking in the afterglow of the most amazing sex they’d ever had. He would run his hand over the increasingly roundness of her belly. But something held him back. He tried to convince himself it was that she wasn’t ready. The truth was he wasn’t ready to find out whether or not she returned his feelings. In case she didn’t.

  It was time to get back to work. Bryce grabbed his batting helmet and his favorite bat, and stepped into the on-deck circle to take his warm up swings and time the pitcher. He seemed to have lost a little bit of velocity. Bryce planned to take advantage if he could.

  The second baseman, Gavin Owens, bunted to put the leadoff man in scoring position. The Goliaths clung to a one-run lead and Bryce knew that if he couldn’t get the runner home, Santiago was behind him. They’d had a team meeting a few days ago. Javier had realized that a lot of them were pressing, trying too hard. The pressure of defending the title weighing on all of them. Then he’d proceeded to look each man in the eye and remind them of some small way in which they’d contributed to that title. When every returning player had been recognized, Javier made a point of staring Bryce down and stating that no one man was responsible for the trophy that now stood in a place of honor in the club level of the ballpark. No one man had earned the rings they all had sitting in a safe deposit box or the top dresser drawer. It took twenty-five of them to pull it off. And all twenty-five of those guys had done their part. Not all at once, but that was the beauty of the game. The beauty of this team. They could and did pick each other up.