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

by Kristina Mathews

  Finally the schoolchildren cleared out, the phone stopped ringing, and the secretary could give Bryce her attention.

  “How may I help you?” She seemed friendlier than she had a few minutes ago. Maybe not friendlier, just less harried.

  “I’m Bryce Baxter, Hailey Baxter’s father.”

  The woman kept her helpful smile on her face, with a questioning look in her eyes.

  “I’m going to need to check Hailey out of school.”

  She glanced at the clock, probably noting that the school day had just started.

  “See, her mother is ill…” Bryce let out a breath. “And I’m going to be taking care of Hailey until she’s better.”

  The woman didn’t need to know that he’d decided to seek custody of Hailey, hoping that her mother’s current state would keep the issue of paternity from coming up.

  “I see.”

  “I live in San Francisco now. And we’re flying out this afternoon.” Why did he feel like she was about ready to push a secret button, the one that would send the police rushing to thwart an attempted kidnapping?

  She gave a polite smile and then started typing something into her computer. Nodding her head, she seemed to find the information she was looking for.

  “You’re the baseball player. Thank you so much for your generous donations. You have no idea what a difference it makes for these kids to have proper PE equipment.” Her tone was suddenly as helpful and friendly as could be.

  “I’m glad I could help.” He still hated the fact that he hadn’t been here to help show those kids how to use that equipment. Especially Hailey. He thought back to his own school days. The fundraisers that had come home and not been returned. But his dad at least had helped out. He’d done the heavy lifting for school carnivals and field days and all the things Hailey would miss out on.

  “Do you have the name and address of the school she’ll be attending?” Madame secretary brought him back from that little trip down memory lane. “We’ll want to get her file out to them as soon as possible.”

  “It’s my understanding that there are only two weeks left of school. I’m not sure if it will be the best thing to enroll her in a new school for just a few days.”

  “Yes, that could be disruptive, but she is required by law to attend school.”

  “Is there a way to get work sent with her? I can work with her. We could email the assignments.” He’d never felt so powerless. No, he had. When he’d walked in on Jillian’s limp body.

  “A lot of the learning activities these last few weeks are more hands-on. I’m not sure how she could make them up.”

  “Surely there must be something you can do to help us.” He flashed the smile that used to charm most people. Especially women. But he probably looked like hell. He hadn’t slept very well in days, and worry wasn’t exactly good for his skin or hair. He wasn’t even sure if he’d washed it this morning, he’d been so preoccupied with trying to tie up loose ends so he could get Hailey home with him.

  “Usually we give teachers a few days’ notice to come up with an independent study packet.”

  “I don’t have a few days.” He ran his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t too greasy, so maybe he’d remembered the shampoo after all. “I have a few hours. I’ll be back to pick up Hailey after school. And what time, exactly, does the bell ring?”

  “Two fifty-seven.” She answered the easy part first. “I’ll see what we can pull together, Mr. Baxter.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He felt the load lighten just a little. The first hurdle of his day had been cleared. “I’ll be back at two fifty-seven.”

  “Oh, you should get here by at least two forty. If not earlier. The parking lot fills up.”

  He nodded, and gave her his full-watt Bryce Baxter grin. “Thanks, again.”

  He started to tip his cap but realized he wasn’t wearing one.

  The walk to the parking lot, back to Jillian’s BMW, was longer than he remembered. The hardest part of his day was still ahead of him. The hardest part of his life.

  He would be checking his ex-wife into a residential substance abuse treatment facility.

  For years, he’d approached the game of baseball with the attitude that he’d face failure more often than not. He’d embraced the idea of failing again and again, of getting back into the box with the attitude that the failures only made his successes that much sweeter. And sure, his triumphs were only about a third of his attempts, but he’d never felt like he’d been a failure.

  Until now.

  Now he felt like the world’s biggest loser.

  With that feeling, he entered the hospital, ready to take the next step. His shoulders felt as heavy as if he’d been swinging a thirty-two-pound bat instead of a thirty-two-ounce one.

  It was a bit of a blur, signing Jillian out of the hospital, loading her into her car, and driving her to what looked like a five-star resort, but in reality was only a step above a prison.

  She didn’t say much as they went through the motions of checking her in. It was as if she’d lost all the fight that she’d so frequently taken out on him. He’d rather have her venom than this zoned-out complacency.

  He wondered if she’d been drugged. It would explain her defeated demeanor. Maybe they’d noted it in her paperwork. The hospital had assured him that her file would be transferred over. Confidentially, of course. Hopefully, if they had given her something to make the transition easier, they would alert the rehab facility so that they didn’t give her an additional dose, or mix medications. Shit. Why hadn’t he paid closer attention? Asked questions?

  He’d just wanted to get this over with.

  He was handed a stack of forms; he took the pen from the receptionist and started to sign his autograph. Shaking his head, he remembered they needed his signature, which was very different from what he wrote on baseballs, photos, and more than once, on some woman’s chest.

  After scrawling his legal signature on a stack of papers, he watched Jillian do the same. With a pang of regret, he remembered signing for the house she would leave abandoned for a month. Sure the cleaning lady would come, the gardener would make his rounds, and Darlene had promised to pick up the mail and check on the house every couple of days.

  Once the formalities were taken care of, Bryce waited for Jillian to say something. To ask after Hailey. To accuse him of ruining her life. Anything other than this awful silence.

  “So. You take care.” Yeah. That was what she needed to hear. “Don’t worry about Hailey. I’ll make sure she’s got everything she needs. And Rachel will help.”

  “Rachel. Your wife.” Jillian’s voice was so soft. So defeated. “Do you love her?”

  “Yes.” No use lying to her, even if the truth hurt. Maybe if they’d been honest with each other years ago… No. He couldn’t let regret take over.

  “And you’re going to have a baby together?”

  He nodded.

  She looked away, obviously hurt by the news. “I’m so sorry.”

  Bryce didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for. And now was not the time to get into it. “Me too.”

  “You don’t have to…” She struggled to find her voice. “Hailey’s not your responsibility.”

  “Don’t say that.” He tried to keep control over his own voice. He couldn’t show anger. Not now. “The minute I signed that marriage certificate, she became my responsibility. The second I looked into her eyes, I became her father. Nothing else matters.”

  “Bryce. Thank you.”

  He looked at the woman who’d basically been a stranger for the last ten years. She’d been a one-night stand, then a desperate woman who’d come to him, crying and freaked out about a baby she’d led him to believe was his. Then she’d become his wife, at least in name. She’d never been happy. Not as long as he’d known her.

  He just hoped that while she was here, she’d be able to figure out why.

  * * * *

  “I’m sorry none of these homes
are quite what you’re looking for.” Catherine Beck pulled her Mercedes into the real estate office parking lot. “But don’t worry, we’ll keep looking.”

  She’d been such a sweetheart, working her tail off to find the perfect house for Rachel Parker and Bryce Baxter.

  There were so many great places, in and out of the city. But none of them felt like home.

  They returned to the office where Catherine pulled up listing after listing, shaking her head at her inability to find the perfect house for her client.

  Finally, she pushed back from the desk. She looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening.

  “There is a house—it’s not on the market yet, so technically I can’t show it to you—I think it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”

  She grabbed a pen and a notepad from the top drawer of her neat desk. She jotted down an address and handed the slip of paper to Rachel. “I hope to have it listed in a few weeks. But it will go fast. Real fast.”

  She stood up, poked her head out into the corridor, and satisfied that she wasn’t being overheard, sat back down.

  “Drive by, take a look, and if you can wait, I’ll make sure you’re one of the first to see it when it finally does come on the market.”

  Rachel wanted to ask why this woman was being so accommodating, but it didn’t really matter if it was because she was a good agent, a huge Goliaths fan, or if it was because she would potentially make a killing on the commission.

  The minute she turned up the street, Rachel knew Catherine was right. It was exactly the house Rachel had dreamed of. A wide stone path welcomed family and friends. A large tree begged to be climbed.

  Surrounded by native vegetation, the house looked like it was placed into the environment, instead of carefully selected landscaping added after the fact. The only plants that seemed to have been added by the homeowners were camellias. But even those looked like they’d been there forever, planted a generation ago to add colorful winter blooms in an otherwise dreary season.

  Even from the street, she could tell the view was incredible.

  She could make out a fence extending to the backyard. Not a white picket one, it looked more like the kind that would fully enclose a pool.

  No. She couldn’t sit here any longer, parked across the street from her dream home. Not when that dream wouldn’t include having Bryce to share it with.

  She turned around, but not before noticing the remnants of a rope swing in the tree. It looked like it had been awhile since any children had swung from its branches.

  And her child wouldn’t be the one to resurrect the old swing. He (or she) wouldn’t learn how to swim in the pool. And Bryce’s Corvette would not be parked in the garage.

  Chapter 25

  “Come on, sweetheart, just pick a few of your favorite things that you’ll need in San Francisco for a few weeks.” Bryce had thrown most of Hailey’s wardrobe into Jillian’s matched luggage set. Four suitcases held more than a month’s worth of clothes. But Bryce didn’t know what her favorites were, what clothes she’d outgrown, and what she’d actually need for her extended stay with him. Sure, he could buy her anything he’d left behind, but he wanted her to have mostly her own things with her.

  The problem was, she had a lot of things. Toys. Dolls. Stuffed animals. Books. An iPod. Her bedroom looked like an upscale toy store. He supposed it would be hard to choose just a few items to take with her. To pack up and leave everything she knew behind. To go live with a man she saw only a few times a year and the rest of the time it had been just her and her mom.

  She must be worried about her mom. He certainly was.

  Hailey grabbed her iPod and earbuds. She shoved a book that she’d been reading into her backpack and then she looked around the room. It was almost as if she were taking inventory. Trying to determine what was most important to her.

  Finally, she approached her bed and rifled through a huge stack of pillows. She grabbed one and hugged it to her chest.

  It took Bryce a minute before he realized it had been made out of one his jerseys.

  “Okay, we can go now.” She picked up her backpack and slung it over one shoulder. She smiled at him and his heart stopped. She’d left behind her American Girl dolls, her video games, and her stuffed animals. But she’d brought a pillow made out of her dad’s jersey.

  They hadn’t been able to leave early enough to fly out with the team. He texted Rachel to tell her he’d be taking a later flight and he’d get a shuttle from the airport since it wouldn’t arrive until late that night. There was so much he needed to talk to her about. More than anything, he just wanted to hold her. She had become his center and he needed her now more than ever. It had been the longest weekend of his life. But as much as he wished Rachel had been with him, she didn’t need to be put through all this shit.

  The flight was uneventful and Hailey had fallen asleep on the ride from the airport. He left the luggage in the lobby and carried her up to the apartment. He would lay her on the bed while he made up the couch. He’d have to order furniture for her bedroom. And move out his exercise equipment. It was time to start looking for a bigger place. A house. With a yard, and maybe a pool. He wondered if Rachel was ready to take that next step.

  Funny, he was supposed to be the bachelor playboy afraid of commitment, yet she’d been the one freaking out about things moving too fast.

  He just hoped Hailey would love Rachel as much as he did. Because there was no way he could do this without her. Especially if he was going to have to fight Jillian for custody.

  He turned the key in the lock, pushed open the door, and carefully carried his daughter into the apartment. He hoped Rachel was still up. He wanted to make love to her, but it would probably have to wait until Hailey had her own room.

  He just needed to see her. To hold her. To know that everything was going to be all right.

  * * * *

  Rachel heard his key in the lock. Heard the door open. She tried to prepare herself to face the man who had broken her heart for the last time.

  He carried a sleeping child in his arms. The look of weariness in his eyes made Rachel wonder how he could stand himself, let alone carry his daughter.

  “I’m just going to set her on the bed while I make up the couch for tonight.” He sounded like he could collapse on the bed himself.

  “I can take the couch.” Rachel offered, her resolve to have it out with him before she loaded her suitcases into her Range Rover melted as he laid the girl gently on the mattress.

  “You don’t have to make it up for her.” He didn’t seem to understand her offer to sleep on the couch herself. “I’ll just run downstairs and grab her suitcases and…”

  His eyes rested on Rachel’s suitcases that stood by the door of the bedroom they had shared.

  Bryce stumbled backward as if he’d been slapped.

  “Rachel, what’s going on?” His features twisted in a look of shock and fear.

  “I…” She was such an idiot. She had a whole speech prepared. About how she wasn’t going to live a lie. That their marriage had been a mistake from the beginning and it was time they both acknowledged that fact.

  She glanced over at Bryce’s sleeping daughter and something tugged at her heart.

  “Let’s go in the other room.” She didn’t want to wake the girl.

  Bryce nodded and motioned for her to go first.

  “What happened in Pittsburgh?” Rachel walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. “You missed a game and no one knew why. And you didn’t call. Then there was that picture.”

  “What picture?”

  “Of you and that girl.”

  “There was a picture of me and my daughter?” Bryce sounded confused. Angry.

  “No. The girl from the bar.” Now Rachel was confused. And she needed to hang on to that anger she’d felt. She couldn’t give in to his act of innocence. “The blonde. The one with her tongue in your ear.”

  “I don’t know what you’re
talking about. Look, it’s been a really shitty couple of days.” Bryce ran his hands through his hair. “I had a fight with Jillian over Hailey and—”

  “Oh my God, Bryce, you didn’t kidnap her did you?”

  “No.” He smiled. It was that same charming, self-deprecating grin that had melted her heart the first time she’d met him. “I didn’t kidnap my daughter. Jillian is in rehab. She… I keep telling myself it was an accident, but…she almost died.”

  “Oh, Bryce. I’m so sorry.” Rachel felt herself going toward him, but she stopped at the last minute. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Oh, baby, I didn’t want to worry you.” He closed the space between them and tried to put his arms around her.

  “But you did.” She stepped back. “You had me thinking the worst. You missed a game. And the last I saw or heard from you was an Instagram picture of some girl licking your ear. I thought you had spent the night with her. That you were unable to make the game because you were shacked up with some bimbo.”

  “No, Rachel. I would never do that to you.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know that?”

  “You could have trusted me.”

  “Like you trusted me with what was happening with your family?”

  “Rachel, please…” He started toward her, his arms out.

  “I was going to go to a hotel.”

  “I need you.” He let his hands fall to his sides. “And Hailey needs both of us.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No, it isn’t. But it’s the truth.” He ran both hands through his hair. “Look. I know I fucked up. It’s all I’ve ever done. But please. Don’t walk out on me now.”

  Before she could respond, the doorbell rang.

  Bryce went to answer it.

  “Mr. Baxter, I brought your luggage up from the lobby. You seemed to have your hands full.” The front-desk clerk stood in the hallway with Bryce’s duffel bag and a matched set of luggage.

  “Thanks, Sergio.” Bryce stepped aside as Sergio brought in the first two suitcases. Then he stepped out into the hall to bring in the rest himself. “I appreciate it.”