So when she approached him, Marco ached with the need to touch her.
“I’m glad you came.” He stood stiffly. “It means a lot to the team.”
“Thank you for reminding me that we got here together.” She fiddled with the long braid she’d wound her hair into. It wasn’t as uptight as the buns she wore when he first met her, but it showed him that her confidence had wavered. She pulled her hair back as a way of restraining her ambition. He couldn’t have that.
Marco reached for the elastic band that held her hair in place. He slipped it off and wove his fingers through the braid, undoing her attempt at holding herself back.
“Marco, please!” Just two words, and damn if his dick didn’t grow rock hard even though she said it in protest instead of encouragement. “People are watching.”
“Yes, Hunter. People will be watching. It’s the World Series.” He arranged her hair in soft waves around her face, letting it fall over her shoulders and down her back. “I think the world should see you as I see you. A strong, beautiful woman who can take on anything the league throws at her. You brought this team together. Each and every one of us is here today because you believed in us. Believe in yourself.”
“Marco.” She smiled, tears shining in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you.” God, he wanted to kiss her right now. But he didn’t think he’d be able to stop. He had to look away, and it was a good thing he did, because Rachel Parker, the Goliaths’ in-game reporter, had just stepped into the clubhouse.
Marco started to move toward her. Head her off before she could zero in on the tender moment, but Bryce beat him to her. He whispered something in her ear and Rachel smiled, shaking her head. She watched Bryce out of the corner of her eye, but she was intent on doing her job first, flirting with the shortstop would have to wait.
“Miss Collins.” Rachel waved to Hunter with a reporter’s smile. “Can I get a quick word with you before the game?”
“You’ll be fine,” Marco whispered, giving her an encouraging shove in the reporter’s direction. And he’d be close by in case the questioning got too personal.
“Sure.” Hunter smoothed the front of her jacket, squared her shoulders, and stood ready to face the camera.
“First of all, I want to congratulate you on bringing this team all the way to the World Series.” Rachel smiled as if she meant it.
“Thank you, but getting here is only the beginning.” Hunter looked around the crowded clubhouse. All the players were suited up, ready to take the field. “We’re planning on winning it all.”
“That would be something. The Goliaths have not won a World Series since coming to San Francisco. They’ve been close, with the heartbreaking loss in ’98 and again in 2007.”
“I remember it all too well.” She closed her eyes briefly, before turning back to the camera. “But we’ve been working toward redeeming that loss ever since.”
“You see the game differently than the fans. It is a business for you.” Rachel tossed her hair and gripped her microphone more firmly. “But this year, it’s also personal.”
Marco stiffened. He needed to keep his focus on the game, but he was not about to allow this reporter, or anyone, to attack Hunter or make their relationship into something sleazy.
“It’s always been personal for me.” Hunter tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “This team has always been like family for me. I grew up here. In this very clubhouse. And before that, at the old stadium. Instead of brothers and sisters and cousins, I had the Goliaths.”
“But this year is different,” Rachel’s voice softened and Marco had to just stand there and watch. “Your father passed away at the beginning of the season. And I’m sure it must be difficult to have this level of success and not be able to share it with him.”
“Yes. It is difficult.” Hunter’s smile wavered. “But it would have been a lot harder if I’d let the team down. I could have given up. Let things slide. But like I said, this team means a lot to me. It’s not everything…”
She glanced over at Marco, and for a brief moment, he saw her love for him flash in her eyes.
“It’s not everything, but it is important to me that the team has success. And continues to have success. We’ve built something here that, hopefully, will continue long after this series. Long after this season.” She glanced around the clubhouse, a serene look on her face. “Yes, I want to win today. And tomorrow. And two more games after that. But more than that, I want to leave behind the same kind of legacy my father left. A team that we can all be proud of. Win or lose, I want people to feel good about coming out to the ballpark. I want parents to share memories with their children. To bring them to a game and tell stories about when they saw Johnny Scottsdale pitch a two-hit shutout. Or Bryce Baxter’s monster home run. Or that incredible catch by Marco Santiago to save the game.”
“And be able to say they were there when the Goliaths won their first World Series since coming to the West Coast.” Rachel Parker seemed to get caught up in Hunter’s excitement.
“Unless we win while we’re in Texas.” Hunter smiled, and then nodded to the cameraman, signaling her pregame interview was over. She walked out of the clubhouse, her head held high, a look of determination in her stride.
They were going to win it all. Marco just knew it.
Chapter 20
Hunter returned to her seat behind home plate after her interview with Rachel Parker. At first she worried the reporter would focus on her relationship with Marco, but she didn’t even bat an eye when Hunter mentioned his name.
Instead, the conversation had been about what the team meant to Hunter, especially given her father’s passing.
This team meant the world to her. And it wasn’t fair she’d have to choose between what was best for the team and what was best for her heart. She’d choose the team every time.
She’d signed the contract releasing her share of the Goliaths to Dempsey. With Clayton Barry selling his share that would leave Dempsey as the sole owner.
He would have five days after the final game of the World Series to make good on his promise of signing Marco for five years. If Marco and his agent refused or he signed with another team, the sale between her and Dempsey would become null and void. Her forty percent would revert back to her and she would continue on as an owner.
Dempsey would still have controlling ownership, so he would have the final say on whether or not she came back as managing partner. They’d discussed her thoughts on the priority of re-signing other players, as well as which free agents she would have pursued if she were to stay on board. But she had a pretty good feeling about Marco signing the deal.
He would remain a Goliath. And she would be happy for him. Even if she couldn’t be happy with him.
He would settle in San Francisco. The fans adored him. And he was the perfect fit for the spacious and challenging left field of their ballpark. He would end his career in the city where, hopefully, he’d win his first championship. Then when he was ready to walk off the field as a player, he would fit in with the organization’s coaching staff.
Somewhere along the way, he would meet someone who was free to love him. Someone who didn’t have to worry about conflict of interest or creating controversy simply by being with him.
Someone who didn’t feel the pressure of the entire team on her shoulders. Someone who wouldn’t worry about his teammates turning their back on him when they went through a rough stretch next June. She didn’t want him to have to look over his shoulder, working twice as hard as he needed to just to prove he wasn’t there only because he’d slept with the boss.
Hunter opened her scorebook and tried to focus on the game. She watched as the man she loved stood for the “Star Spangled Banner.” He glanced over at her before taking his place in the outfield. He smiled, but things were different between them. Maybe they both knew their time together was coming to an end.
The first two batters were easily retired with a strikeout and a
ground out to short. The third place hitter, a man known for his power to left field stepped up to the plate. He was ahead in the count when he hit a fastball to deep left field. Only one man believed it would stay in the park. Marco never took his eyes off the ball and tracked it down right at the wall. The ballpark shuddered in relief.
Hunter dropped her pencil and watched Marco return to the dugout, his teammates patting him on the back and joking with him as they prepared for the bottom half of the inning. A leadoff single, stolen base and walk set the table for Baxter’s double and just like that, the Goliaths were up by two runs.
Marco took his spot in the batter’s box. On the first pitch, he stroked a double down the right field line, easily scoring Baxter from second and providing what turned out to be more than they needed to win the first game of the series.
After the game, Marco gave his interviews with a smile but he didn’t approach Hunter. Instead he sent her a text, telling her he was going out with the guys and then he was going to call it a night.
She shouldn’t be surprised that he was ready to move on. She’d been pulling back from him for weeks now, ever since their relationship became public. Every time they’d made love, it felt like it could be their last. Looked like last night, it finally was.
She got into her car and drove to the house she’d grown up in. It felt different now, Marco had made his mark. Left his scent. And somehow convinced her to move from her childhood bedroom to take over the master suite. Except, she couldn’t sleep there tonight. Not alone.
But she couldn’t return to the room where she’d once left her baby teeth under her pillow either. She wasn’t that little girl anymore. She’d finally been able to mourn her father, but she didn’t know how she was going to get over Marco.
She hoped she could be like the players who took challenges in stride. The catcher who ended up having a darn good career playing first base. Or the pitchers who were able to make the transition from being a starter to working in the bullpen as relievers.
But she had a feeling she would never be the same. Like the Cy Young Award winners who struggled when switching to a new league. Or worse, the Gold Glove winners who ended their careers by serving as designated hitters.
Caught between the past and a future that looked lonely, Hunter settled on the sofa, expecting a sleepless night. One of many more to come.
* * * *
Marco went out with several of his teammates. The married ones went home early but he stayed out with the single players. There weren’t all that many. Just Baxter and Garcia and a couple of other guys.
He didn’t want to be here. Witnessing the whole single life of a professional athlete was a sharp reminder of what he didn’t want the next few years of his life to look like. But he feared it might be over with Hunter.
He couldn’t let her risk the most important thing in her life. Her team. And this was her team. It needed to remain her team. With Barry out of the picture, and Dempsey in his seventies, Hunter would eventually have the team solely in her control.
Bryce went to grab another round, but he came back with two young women instead. A blonde and a brunette. One for each arm. He played the part of the rowdy playboy, but there was something in his eyes that told Marco he wasn’t enjoying it as much as he wanted people to think.
“So what do you ladies think?” Bryce nodded in Marco’s direction. “Will my good friend Marco be the hero of the World Series, or is he going to give a guy like me a shot at the glory?”
“You’re Marco Santiago.” The blonde eyed him like he was an ice cream cone and she wanted to take a nice long lick. “Is it true you’re sleeping with the team’s owner?”
Bryce dropped his arm from around her waist and gave him a look of apology.
“Not anymore.” Marco nodded at his teammate and made his way for the door.
“Shit.” He heard Bryce mutter behind him and he felt Bryce’s hand on his shoulder as he pushed his way through the crowd.
“Hey man, I’m sorry about that.” Bryce had shaken off the two women and followed Marco outside. “I was just trying to lighten things up. Keep things loose.”
“You do that. Go back to the party.”
“No, man. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Bryce tucked his hands in his pockets as Marco waved for a cab. “I don’t even want that in there.”
Marco just shrugged, feeling a chill in the night air.
“I want what you have with Hunter. I see the way she looks at you. The way you look at her. Like nothing or no one can ever get in your way.”
“Except reporters. Fans who think our private life is something to talk about like our batting average or fielding percentage.” Marco shook his head at the absurdity of it all. If either one of them had a different job, things would be simpler. “Would people give a shit if she was my landlord or if I was her gardener?”
“No. Probably not.” Baxter kicked at some litter on the sidewalk. “The fact that she’s in baseball and you’re in baseball… Man, it’s gotta be harder on her. The fact that there are still guys who don’t think a woman should be anywhere in this game other than back there.”
He jerked his head in the direction of the bar, where the two women Bryce had picked up could very well have moved on to one of the other players by now.
“It’s gotta be tough to be a woman in this business. You know there are guys who still think they can get away with harassing the female reporters. Sticking their junk in her face or making sexist comments, just to see if she’ll crack under pressure.” Bryce balled his fists and made a noise like he really wanted to hit someone. “I imagine it’s gotta be even harder on a woman in the front office. I can just picture the guys who’ll ask her if she chooses players based on their looks instead of their numbers. Hell, I was asked that just the other day. I ignored the dickwad and answered a real question about how you and I seem to play off each other, a little friendly competition about which one of us is going to hit more home runs in the series.”
“Yeah, it’s tough on her. And it’s killing us.” Admitting it out loud seemed to mark the final inning of their relationship. But like the loyal fan who stayed for the last pitch even with a ten run deficit, he wasn’t willing to walk away until it was officially over.
A cab pulled up and Marco got in. He gave the driver Hunter’s address out of habit, but then corrected his mistake. He went home to the apartment he’d spent some of the best nights of his life in. But he wouldn’t renew the lease. He’d stay in San Francisco, but he’d look for a new place. Too many memories here.
He wondered if he’d have to hang it up after this series. He couldn’t see how he could keep playing a game that would eventually come between him and the woman he loved.
He knew she couldn’t sign him as a free agent. Even if it wasn’t against the rules, it was a major conflict of interest. He got that now. He hadn’t wanted to see it, but Hunter had known all along. Being with him could ruin her livelihood.
And his too. Even if he won it all, he’d still lose. They both would.
* * * *
Hunter entered the clubhouse as Marco was packing up his locker. If they took two of the next three games, then this would be his last game in this ballpark. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her congratulate his teammates before making her way over to his side of the room.
He knew he was being irrational, but every handshake, every smile, every pat on the back just further convinced Marco that she cared more about the team than she cared about him. And given the fact that he hadn’t done much to contribute to tonight’s win, his battered ego couldn’t shake it off.
He tried to shove his MVP trophy into his bag before she could see it, but she caught him.
“What is that?” She approached him with a curious smile. She wore some soft, silky blouse cut low enough to engage his imagination but not so low as to provide a glimpse of anything he didn’t want any of his teammates to see.
His heart sputtered as he tried t
o shove the damn thing deeper into his bag. “It’s nothing.”
“Is that…” She reached into his bag and pulled the trophy out of its hiding spot. “It’s the MVP trophy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You should have been here.” Marco couldn’t believe how much it hurt that she hadn’t been there. “But you weren’t.”
He grabbed it out of her hands.
“Marco, I’m sorry.”
At least she didn’t say please.
“It doesn’t matter.” He was frustrated. Hurt. And tired. He was tired of having to pretend he could slip in and out of his feelings like he changed in and out of his uniform.
“I knew I was right about you.” She took the trophy from him and turned it over in her hands. She smiled as she read the inscription.
“Nah, they could have given it to any one of us.” The way her face lit up as she examined the trophy had him even more convinced that their connection was more about them winning than anything else.
“No. You’ve got something special. If we’d had you all year, I think you’d be in the running for league MVP.”
“Doubtful.” Marco took the trophy back. He didn’t want it. He wanted Hunter, but…well, this wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t get what he wanted.
“That’s one of the reasons the fans love you. You’re a great ballplayer with just enough humility to keep it real. And next year…”
“Next year? There is no next year.” He tossed the trophy several feet toward the nearest trash can. It hit the wall before dropping into the barrel.
Marco stormed out of the clubhouse and into the cool night air. He wanted to go home, but there were still a lot of fans milling around the ballpark. He normally enjoyed interacting with the fans: smiling, taking pictures, making their day.
But tonight, he didn’t want to talk about baseball. Didn’t want to discuss the game that had brought him and Hunter together and was now tearing them apart.
* * * *
Hunter retrieved Marco’s MVP trophy from the trash and was dismayed to find it was broken.
Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) Page 20