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

by Kristina Mathews

  Bryce relaxed as he stepped into the batter’s box. He would do his best, just like his teammates behind him. The first pitch was a little high, and Bryce took ball one. Just as he’d thought, it was a little slower that the last at bat, when he’d grounded out to third.

  Digging in, he prepared for the next pitch. A fastball, right in his wheelhouse, and Bryce crushed it just down the left field line. A two-run lead energized the ballpark, the atmosphere of last October had returned.

  Life was good. Life was definitely good.

  Marco Santiago doubled and then the game broke wide open.

  Rachel was ready at the top of the dugout steps after the game, her trusty cameraman, Carl, ready for the post-game interview. She could have picked any one of a half dozen guys, but she eyed Bryce with that special gleam in her eyes. The gleam that meant she was going to do her job with joy and verve and a kind of energy that made the win seem all that sweeter.

  “You really set the spark that got the team rolling in the late innings.” Rachel sounded almost giddy. And why not? The team was back on track. They were back on track. And Bryce couldn’t help but think the two were related. “What do you attribute to the quick turn around? Just a few weeks ago, it looked like you guys were wiped out. Like the extended season had taken its toll on all of you.”

  “I think we just had to take a step back and realize what we have here.” Bryce ran his left hand through his hair, the weight of his gold band sending a little shiver across his scalp. “We’ve accomplished something a lot of guys wait a lifetime for and never achieve.”

  “It is important to take the time to enjoy the moment.”

  “Yes. But once the next season starts, the moment is over.” He longed to reach for her. But the camera was rolling, and some things were private. “It’s time to work towards the next great moment.”

  “Tonight it looked like you really believe there will be more great moments.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Rachel tucked a strand of her gorgeous red hair behind her ear. Her cheeks darkened to a fresh pink. They’d had their share of moments together, just the two of them. And he really believed they would have a lifetime of moments ahead of them.

  “The best of times aren’t behind us.” He did reach for her hand now. “I think we can look forward to many more unforgettable experiences.”

  “You do have a lot of great baseball left in you.” She tried to pull her hand away, but Bryce refused to let go.

  “I think we’ve got plenty of game left.” He wanted to say it. More than anything, he wanted to tell her how he felt about her. About them and the family they were creating. But in front of the camera wasn’t the place to confess his feelings for the first time. He’d proposed publically because he knew she wouldn’t say no, not in front of everyone.

  And if he professed his undying love for her on camera, she would say it in return. But would she mean it? That wasn’t something he wanted to wonder about. When she said it, he wanted it to be one thousand percent true.

  * * * *

  Rachel’s heart was pounding. Sure, she was excited after the win and she was happy for Bryce. His game was back on track and she had a feeling it would stay that way for the rest of the season. But she also felt like there was something else going on. He was going to say something. Something big. And in front of everyone.

  “We have a lot to look forward to, not just on the field.” Bryce had a twinkle in his eye. He was up to something. He stepped closer, put his arm around her, and faced the camera. “We have some exciting news. We’re expanding the Goliaths’ family with a player to be named later.”

  He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, his right hand moving to caress her baby bump.

  The cheer from the crowd was almost overwhelming. Even more than when he’d proposed. That had been a complete surprise. She’d spent the last ten days trying to figure out how to break the news to her fans, and Bryce had just run with it. It was spontaneous and genuine—just like Bryce.

  Her heart swelled. Oh how she loved this man. And she knew she needed to tell him. But she couldn’t just whisper it in his ear as he drifted off to sleep. With Bryce, there was only one way to do things. All out.

  Other than the time she threw up on his Corvette, she hadn’t done any grand gestures. She would have to come up with something spectacular. Something to show him just how much he meant to her.

  After he’d showered and changed into his street clothes, Rachel handed Bryce the keys.

  “You trust me?” He grinned, knowing how hard it had been for her to give up control, or at least control of her vehicle. He’d humored her and let her drive, saying he didn’t like to drive in the city.

  “Yeah.” Funny how he made light of the issue. Trust was never easy for her. It would be easy to blame her cheating ex, but that was only part of it. And even though Bryce’s image had been that of a carefree playboy, it wasn’t entirely about him either.

  Rachel had never really trusted her place in the world. She’d never really fit in with her family. They’d tried to make her feel included, but she was just…different. Her mother, half sister, and stepfather were a unit. A team. And she was there on the sidelines, like the fan who stood at the edge of the stands hoping for the slightest acknowledgement.

  Bryce held the passenger side door open for her and helped her step up into the SUV. She sank back into the luxurious leather seats. Had she really freaked out about getting such a generous gift? Yes. She had.

  She had seven days to figure out how to make it all up to him. He would go to Washington D.C. and then Pittsburgh. Then he’d be home for eight days before leaving for the next ten.

  “Are you sure you can’t come with me?” he asked as he pulled into the parking garage.

  “I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday.” It was just easier to schedule for days she wasn’t working. And he didn’t need to come to all of the prenatal appointments. “Plus, now that we’ve made the announcement, I’m sure I’ll have plenty to keep myself busy with responding to tweets, e-mails, and Facebook posts congratulating us.”

  “You know you can hire someone to manage your social media.”

  “Yeah, but then it’s not genuine.” She had a love-hate relationship with the time-consuming aspect of social media. But sometimes, something a fan took the time to post made it all worthwhile. “People can tell when you’re faking it.”

  “Honey, you don’t ever have to fake anything.” Bryce reached over and ran his hand along her thigh, sending shivers up her spine. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She laughed because she knew he was talking about sex. And yes, with him, she’d never had to fake it. But outside of the bedroom, she felt like she faked everything. Her marriage, her job—hell her whole life had been one big fake smile.

  She followed Bryce to their bedroom, where she pretended that she was okay with the fact that Bryce had only married her because of the baby. Because of her job. And maybe even a little bit to help his job. He had been playing better since the wedding, and he often gave her credit when asked about the quick turnaround by other reporters.

  And the fans ate up his new image. As much as they’d loved the bad boy bachelor, they swooned even more over his “Sorry, ladies, I’m a married man, now” act. He’d become the golden boy once again.

  And in the morning she would smile and wave as he boarded the bus for the airport. She’d pretend she belonged with the other wives as they gave goodbye kisses and best wishes. She’d pretend she couldn’t hear their whispered “I love you’s,” while wondering what it would be like to hear those words herself someday. Or to say them.

  Chapter 21

  After settling into his hotel, Bryce took a cab over to his ex-wife’s house. He was looking forward to seeing his daughter. His ex-wife had been, well, not exactly pleasant, but she’d been less hostile than usual, so he hoped that meant she wasn’t going to cause too much trouble.

  He paid the driver and walk
ed up to the oversized house. What did two people need with 4,500 square feet of living space? When he’d lived there, he could go hours, if not days, without crossing paths with Jillian. He’d had his bedroom, bathroom, and man cave. Jillian had the rest of the house.

  He rang the bell three times before remembering he still had a key. Maybe they were out by the pool. It was a warm evening, so why not?

  “Hello,” he called as he stepped into the foyer. “Jillian? Hailey? I let myself in when you didn’t answer.”

  Nothing. He headed toward the backyard, but there was no one out there. He went back into the kitchen, but there was nothing but an empty bottle of wine on the counter. It was early, but maybe she’d been nursing it for a week.

  He called out again, but got no response. He searched the downstairs and found it empty. With growing trepidation, he headed up the stairs.

  Hailey’s room was empty. Not even a school bag tossed on the floor. Either the maid had come that afternoon or no one had been in there in a few days. Odd, since Hailey still had a few weeks left of school before getting out for the summer. And her theater camp. He’d have to get the exact dates from Jillian. He was determined to have Hailey come and spend some time with him in San Francisco over the summer. They had two ten-game home stands that would give them plenty of time to spend together. And he’d definitely want her over the Christmas holidays. Maybe take her up to Tahoe and enjoy the snow.

  Bryce was about to give up on them being home when he heard a loud noise coming from Jillian’s bedroom. A crash, like a lamp being knocked over or something.

  Cautiously, he pushed the door open. “Are you all right?”

  “Go to hell.” Jillian stood next to the bed, watching half a bottle of red wine soak into the carpet. The lamp and a broken wineglass had been knocked over as well. A mound of used tissues was piled up on the floor about two feet away from the empty wastebasket.

  “Jillian, what’s wrong?” He was used to walking on eggshells around her, but tonight she seemed extra fragile. “Where’s Hailey?”

  “Hailey?” She looked up at him, her features twisted in a painful grimace. “She’s…at a friend’s. They have a school project they’re working on and it was just…easier…for them to do it there.”

  For a minute there, he’d been sure something was wrong with Hailey. Breathing a sigh of relief, he now focused on Jillian. There was definitely something wrong with Jillian. It wasn’t like her to go through a bottle and a half of wine all by herself on a weekday afternoon. But then again, how would he know? He hadn’t seen her since the end of January.

  “I guess you forgot I was coming tonight?”

  “No. I didn’t forget. I can never forget.” Her voice sounded hollow as she reached for the remains of the wine.

  “Let me help you with that.” Bryce was quicker and he upended the bottle with maybe a quarter of it left inside. “Where do you keep your towels? We should clean this up before it stains.”

  He knew it was too late. He’d have to add new carpet to the ever-increasing list of things Jillian needed.

  “Leave it. I don’t care.” She grabbed the bottle out of his hand and started to take a drink.

  “Maybe you should take it easy on the wine.” He took the bottle back from her.

  “Fuck you.” She reached for the wine, but he held it out of her reach.

  “You talk like that in front of our daughter?”

  Jillian just laughed. A bitter sound that told him she was itching for a fight. At least Hailey wasn’t around to witness it.

  “How much have you had to drink today, Jillian?” He knew it would piss her off, but he wasn’t leaving until he understood the situation around here. Was this a one-time only thing, brought about by his return and his recent announcement? Or was this something Hailey lived with every day?

  “Why do you care?” She made another weak attempt at grabbing the bottle from him, but he had the advantage of height and sobriety over her. “You never gave a shit about me.”

  “I care, Jillian. You were my wife.” Although neither of them had taken their marriage very seriously. “You’re the mother of my child and I need to know you’re both okay.”

  “We’re fine.” She fell back against the bed. “You don’t need to worry about us.”

  “Well, I do. I know I haven’t always been around.” He sat down on the bed, a few feet away from where his ex-wife lay. “But I want to work on that. I want to spend more time with Hailey. When she’s out of school, I’d like to have her come to San Francisco. Get to know Rachel.”

  And yeah, get to know him a little better.

  “No.” Jillian sat up, but couldn’t stay upright. “You can’t have her.”

  “She’s my daughter, too.” Maybe he was an idiot for even trying to have this conversation with Jillian now. But he knew it would take more than one request. “I know I’ve let you raise her your way, according to your rules. And she’s a great kid. But she’s growing up. She needs her father more as she gets older.”

  “Too bad you’re not her father.” Jillian’s bitterness took on a whole new level.

  “What did you say?” He must have heard her wrong.

  She lifted herself off the bed, sitting up so she could look him in the eye.

  “I said, too bad you’re not her father.” She jumped up and ran for the bathroom.

  He could hear her throwing up. If what she said was true, he felt like he could be right there next to her. Not Hailey’s father? Had she fucking lied to him? Trapped him for eighteen long months in hell? Taken him for a small fortune?

  He waited until he heard the toilet flush before making a slow walk toward the bathroom.

  Jillian came out, wiping her mouth with a plush white towel. Her hair was damp from where she must have washed her face, but her eyes were hard.

  “I know it’s gotta be hard on you to see me married…and with a baby on the way.” He knew she’d never loved him, but that didn’t mean she’d be happy about sharing him—or his money. “And if you were looking for the one thing you could say that would hurt me the most, well…you hit that one right on the screws.”

  “I’m not just saying it to hurt you.” She tossed the towel toward the hamper and missed. “Hailey isn’t your child. You weren’t the only man I was with that month and… Well, the timing was wrong.”

  “The timing was wrong? So you knew she wasn’t mine and you married me anyway?” He was reeling. Not just from the shock, but the fact that he could have been that stupid.

  “I never thought you’d marry me.”

  “So what? You were hoping I’d offer you money, make the whole problem go away?”

  “Something like that.”

  He stood there, feeling like he’d just been drilled by a ninety-eight mile an hour fastball, right in the chest.

  “Does Hailey know?”

  Jillian’s eyes welled up with tears and she shook her head. “No. She has no idea.”

  His anger was understandable, but he also felt huge sense of loss. Even though he hadn’t always been around to show it, he loved Hailey. He was proud of her and he couldn’t imagine not being a part of her life.

  Jillian stumbled toward the bed, and she’d probably pass out soon.

  Bryce took the bottle of wine to the bathroom and poured the contents down the drain. He noticed a bottle of prescription drugs on the counter. A popular anti-anxiety medication that probably shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol.

  He had to get out of there. Before he said something to Jillian they’d both regret.

  Jillian was passed out on the bed. Still in her designer jeans, but he wasn’t about to undress her. He folded the bedspread over her and left the room.

  He paused at Hailey’s door. He could be furious with Jillian; he could lawyer up and restructure the divorce settlement or maybe even have their marriage annulled, and then he could cut her off financially. But anything he did to Jillian would only hurt Hailey. And DNA or not, she was his responsibili
ty. Especially if her mother was as messed up as he now feared.

  Bryce stepped inside the room of a nine-year-old girl who needed his protection. He flipped on the light, to get a better look at the environment where his little girl spent so much of her time.

  The room had been professionally decorated. The delicate pink walls bore a hand-painted mural of fairy princesses. But the bulletin board over her desk had magazine cutouts of some boy band. He had no idea who the little prepubescent punks were, but what the hell were they doing pinned up on his baby girl’s wall? He looked at the wall next to her bed. There was a whole collage of pictures. He stepped closer to examine what pop culture idol was the last thing she looked at before she fell asleep.

  It was him. Most of the pictures were from the World Series, but there were some throughout the season. She didn’t hate him, after all. Maybe she even looked up to him.

  He had to get out of there. There were too many emotions swirling through his mind. And he had a game tomorrow. He couldn’t show up at the ballpark this wound up.

  He called for a cab and had the driver drop him off at one of the bars he used to frequent when he needed to get away from the pressures of living with Jillian. It wasn’t a trendy spot, more of a locals’ place. A place where a guy could get a drink and sip in peace. Or he could meet up with friends or new acquaintances. It wasn’t a meat market, but it wasn’t a monastery either.

  Anyway, it wasn’t too far from his hotel, but it was far enough that he wouldn’t likely run into any of his teammates.

  He just wanted a beer. Something to take the edge off. He didn’t want to get plastered and end up with his head in the toilet like Jillian.

  He downed the first IPA faster than usual. Normally he liked to savor the hoppy brew. But he barely noticed the complex aroma, just let the liquid slide down his throat. He ordered another and tried to take his time, but the fury inside him made him down the bottle like it was a light beer.

  After ordering his third beer, he texted Jillian informing her that he’d be at the house at ten A.M. to pick up Hailey. She’d better be ready or there would be hell to pay. He would be taking his daughter to the game and if Jillian had a problem with that, she just might find her funds cut off.