by Sykes, V. K.
Most of the players that passed them on the way out ignored her and the friendly giant of a rent-a-cop who had a physique reminiscent of an NFL lineman. She barely got more than a couple of mildly appreciative glances, and that suited her more than fine as she was nervous enough as it was. In black jeans and a red Patriots warm-up jacket, and with her hair hammered down by her ball cap, she wasn’t exactly tantalizing eye candy, which also suited her just fine. She figured Ryan wouldn’t care that she’d dressed down for the short road trip and game. Not after the x-rated phone conversations they’d been having all week.
From her vantage point, Taylor could see Ryan’s Cherokee parked directly beneath one of the light stanchions. She had every intention of getting in that car in the next few minutes and heading back to his hotel for a night of passion and, she suspected, very little sleep.
Tonight would be a celebration, to say the least, and not just because Ryan had played another solid game. He’d banged out two hits and drawn a walk, and he’d made a brilliant play to knock down a hard grounder that would have driven in at least one run if it had gotten by him. And, most importantly, his throw to the pitcher on that play had been right on the money—crisp and accurate, with no hesitation. Taylor had given a silent prayer of thanks as Dembinski grudgingly acknowledged the positive change in Ryan.
She had even brought a bottle of sparkling wine in her bag to celebrate, but she was dubious that she and Ryan would even make it through a toast before becoming preoccupied with much more pressing matters. Hell, they’d be lucky if they even made it to his hotel before they gave in to their mutual cravings for each other. Taylor had never thought of herself as a sex maniac before, but she’d discovered that having Ryan in her bed only once in three weeks constituted something close to torture.
Oh, well, at least they’d learned to be creative when it came to phone sex. She figured the practice would stand them in good stead for the future when the team traveled without her.
She could only hope it would be a long future.
She spotted Ryan as he emerged from the corridor that led to the clubhouse. Drawing back before he saw her, she nudged the security guard. “Okay, my date’s here. Thanks so much for your help. I appreciate it.”
The burly guard gave her a toothy grin and a quick salute as he backed away and headed down the corridor toward Ryan. Taylor quickly made her way to the Cherokee and stood beside the passenger side door, mostly out of view.
Striding purposefully, Ryan had almost reached the car by the time he spotted her on the other side. “Taylor?” he managed in a choked voice.
“Can I catch a ride, mister?” Taylor said the words as seductively as she could manage, cocking her hip in a bad imitation of a sexy come-hither stance.
Ryan started for her, and Taylor dropped her bag and hurried around the front of the car to meet him. Grinning, he was on her in an instant, sweeping her into his brawny, leather-clad arms, hugging her so tightly she couldn’t move a muscle. When he kissed her, she opened her mouth to his insistent tongue and surrendered completely. Taylor’s desire and love, mingled in a heady mix, overwhelmed her, sucking the air right out of her lungs.
“You missed me, huh?” she gasped when he finally let her up for air.
He clamped his huge hands on her shoulders and let his red-hot gaze travel over her. She knew she probably looked like one of the ball girls on the field, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind.
“What do you think?” He slid his hands down to her ass and drew her against his body. She couldn’t stifle a self-satisfied chuckle when she felt how hard he already was.
“Uh, I think you’d better get me to your hotel room in the next five minutes or less,” she said, “or we might get arrested for lewd public behavior.”
Ryan swept his gaze around the nearly empty lot. “Where’s your car?”
“At home. I hitched a ride with Dembinski. And since he left right after the game, I guess you’re pretty much stuck with me.”
“Huh?”
“Well, I thought you’d be happy that I’d want to stay the whole night. Aren’t you?” She put on a little pout.
He smiled, but still seemed puzzled. “Yeah, of course. But...”
“But what?” Taylor asked with a mock scowl. She was having too much fun drawing out the little drama before hitting him with the big news.
“You still have to get back to town tomorrow, so I don’t get why you didn’t bring your car.”
She shrugged, trying to keep a grin off her face. “Why would I, when I can get a ride back with you, in this vehicle right here?” She lightly tapped the hood of the Cherokee.
Ryan’s eyes shot wide open and he pulled back, holding her at arms’ length. “Jesus, Taylor, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She let the grin loose, unable to hold it back a second longer. “Yep. You’re going to be called up officially at two o’clock tomorrow. Dembinski offered to let me tell you myself.”
“Yes!” Ryan whooped. He wrapped his big arms around her waist and hoisted her in the air, spinning in a full circle before setting her back down. “And I’m going to start at first base tomorrow night?”
“You bet your very fine ass you are. Dembinski said you looked like a different player out there, and from him, that’s one hell of a compliment.” She trailed her fingers down the front of his shirt, letting them rest at his belt buckle. “Now can we please go to the hotel and start celebrating?”
He nodded, but she could tell something was still on his mind. “What?” she asked, puzzled.
“I was just thinking about Devon,” he said. “You told her about your plan to spend the night here?”
God, men can be so dense sometimes.
“You think I’d just scoot up here without telling her that? She suggested that I stay, if you want the whole story.”
His brow furrowed. “She what?”
Taylor rolled her eyes at his alarmed reaction. “When I told her that Dembinski and I were going up to Allentown to see you play, she said she expected me to spend the night with you. She was really quite insistent, I might add. So I arranged for Bridget—who, by the way, has taken quite a shine to Devon—to spend the night.”
“And your mom’s okay with that?” Ryan asked in a dubious tone.
“Absolutely. Devon has been wonderful these last three weeks. Up for school in good time every day since she started, doing her homework, helping with the cooking. Okay, her room is an absolute disaster area, but she is a teenager, after all. I think my mom can handle that.”
Ryan grimaced. “I guess, but I know how crappy Bridget can feel from one moment to the next. And I don’t want to get off on a bad foot with her if Devon starts to act up. Maybe we should drive home tonight. I could spend the night at your place.”
“With your daughter sleeping in the next room?” Taylor gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah, that’ll be fun for all of us. Ryan, if we rush back tonight, I guarantee you that your daughter will brand us both as morons, as will my mother. Trust me, the two of them will get along just fine.”
When he seemed torn, Taylor wrapped her arms around his waist. “Look, I get it. But my mom—for all her faults—is not your mom. If there’s a problem, she’ll call me right away.” She leaned back and gave him a steady eye. “And Devon is very responsible, too. You’ve got to start trusting her because she’s earned that from you. So let’s give her a little space, okay?”
Ryan hesitated a brief moment, but then kissed her hard on the mouth before whispering in her ear. “I should know by now to listen to you, babe.”
Taylor laughed, so happy that she wondered how she could keep it all inside. “Took you long enough to figure that out, big guy. But better late than never.”
Ryan reached around her, opened the car door, and practically shoved her inside in his eagerness to get going. “And for that little dig, babe, you’re going to pay—all night long.”
As she watched him rush around to the driver’s sid
e, her body tingled with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to start paying.
33
October, Philadelphia
TAYLOR BALANCED MADDIE’S little boy Nathan on her hip, her arm securely wrapped around his pudgy waist. He gurgled and nestled his head into her shoulder, probably slobbering all over her, but that was a price she was willing to pay for the fun of holding the little blond sweetie. Of course, she was wearing a very expensive white silk blouse, so part of her hoped Nathan wouldn’t decide to puke on her before Maddie returned from her conversation with Holly Carter and retrieved him.
Ryan had wandered off more than ten minutes ago to mingle with teammates, but now she spotted him outside on the sprawling patio in Jake and Maddie’s backyard. He and Dembinski were in conversation, but Dembinski seemed to be doing all the talking. Suddenly, she saw Ryan’s broad shoulders go up around his ears, and she had to fight the temptation to dump Nathan back in his mother’s arms and go rushing outside to find out what was going on between them.
Loud and jammed with semi-inebriated ballplayers and their significant others, the post-season party at the Miller house was turning out to be more upbeat than Taylor had imagined, especially since the Patriots had only last week been edged out in the National League Championship Series by her old team, the L.A. Dragons. The Patriots had won their division, but a string of injuries from July to September had left them limping into the playoffs. Noah Cade went down in July, needing elbow surgery, and only Nate Carter had remained fully healthy among the pitchers. But even he couldn’t carry the team all by himself.
Ryan had played solid, injury-free baseball all season after returning from New York, and, as far as Taylor was concerned, had earned himself the right to a new contract for the coming year. Dembinski hadn’t broached the subject with her, for obvious reasons, but she knew he was pleased with Ryan’s numbers and, even more importantly, with his veteran presence in the clubhouse. Along with Jake and Nate, Ryan had worked magic in settling down the younger players and helping them get the most out of their God-given talent.
What position Ryan would play next year, though, remained a huge question mark for both of them. Jared Stark appeared to be on his way to making a full recovery and, as an All-Star with a mega-contract, the first base job was going to be his to lose in spring training. With his arm back to normal, it was possible that Ryan could be shifted to the outfield, but the Patriots already had three powerful guys holding down those jobs.
Anything could happen over the winter and in spring training, though. Stark might not make a full recovery. One of the outfielders could get injured. Or maybe Dembinski would swing a trade to open up a regular spot for Ryan. In the worst case scenario, he’d have to accept a utility role, as hard as that would be for him.
Carrying a plate piled with a stomach-churning combo of nachos, spanakopitas, and watermelon, Devon sidled up to Taylor and patted Nathan on the butt with her free hand, drawing a burbling smile from the boy. “You know, I’ve always wanted to have a little brother. Or a sister. Either would be fine, I suppose.” The girl’s eyes sparkled with amusement. She looked quite different from the first time Taylor met her in April. Her hair was now mostly one color—a lustrous, natural black with only one dramatic pink streak—and she’d ditched most of her piercings.
“Well, if that’s the case,” Taylor said, “how about a little practice? Put that stuff down and take this little package off my hands.”
After Devon set her plate down, she handed Nathan into Devon’s waiting arms. “I think you’d make a fine babysitter, honey,” Taylor said.
That brought a twisted face from the girl. “I guess, but diapers...yuck.” She juggled the little guy into a comfortable position, imitating Taylor. “But I suppose I’d manage. This one’s sure a cutie.” She plopped a kiss on top of his head.
“What are you ladies going on about?” Ryan said as he slipped through a set of French doors and slid an arm around Devon’s waist. “Every time I see you two talking alone, I can’t help but think conspiracy and get real nervous.”
Devon rolled her eyes but Taylor gave a soft laugh. Ryan wasn’t far wrong, she supposed. She and Devon had become as close as sisters over the course of the season, united not just by a shared love of Ryan but also, Taylor had come to realize, by a deep need for the comfort and strength of family.
Ryan’s decency and obvious devotion to Taylor had started to slowly win over Bridget—Devon had already conquered that territory—and even Carter was on the road to a cautious acceptance. It was no small feat in her brother’s hard-shelled case, and Taylor was grateful for every sign that Carter was doing his best to accept Ryan and Devon into the family.
Taylor smiled at the heart-warming picture that father and daughter made. “Oh, Dev and I were just thinking out loud about how nice it might be to have a baby like Nathan some day.”
She mentally winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth, though. She and Ryan hadn’t discussed children except in passing, and she had no idea if he wanted to begin the process of child-rearing all over again. He’d certainly had his hands full raising Devon on his own.
Hell, they hadn’t even discussed marriage, though he and Devon had made it a habit to spend almost every weekend at her place. And since Devon always stayed with her when Ryan was on the road, and Taylor often spent at least one or two nights a week at Ryan’s condo, it meant the three of them spent a great deal of time together as a family.
Ryan winked at Taylor over Devon’s head. “Sure, someday. It would be nice to be a grandpa, sweetie.”
Devon sighed. “Dad, that was really lame, even for you.”
He laughed, letting her go, then gently grasped Taylor’s elbow. “Can we talk outside for a second, babe?”
Taylor nodded as she turned to Devon, who shooed her away with a dismissive wave, clearly more than happy to spend time hanging with little Nathan.
Ryan led her out the French doors and past the pool into a corner of the sprawling yard where Jake had constructed a rolling putting green with a sand trap wrapped around almost half of it. The closest party-goers were out of hearing distance.
It had been so warm in the house that Taylor had taken off her short leather jacket. Now, in just her silk shirt, she shivered in the cool of the October evening. Ryan noticed immediately and took off his sports coat, wrapping it around her shoulders. Big as a tent on her, she pulled it tight in front with both hands. “What’s up? Is it something to do with that conversation you just had with Dembinski?”
He nodded. “Yeah, and we needed to talk without Devon around.”
Taylor’s stomach took a dive. Whatever Dembinski had told Ryan, the GM had certainly kept it from her. That was hardly unexpected, she supposed, given their arrangement. She reached a hand out to steady herself against Ryan’s chest.
“The Tampa Bay GM called him,” he said. “The Rays are interested in making a trade.”
The tight, hard line of his mouth told her everything. “For you,” she mumbled, heartsick.
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Ryan.” Taylor could barely form a coherent thought.
“They’re interested in having me share first base and DH duties with Judd Crawley. But I’d mostly be a DH.”
Taylor knew how tempting that offer could be to him, since his future with the Patriots still had some question marks. “You always wanted to go to the AL,” she managed to grind out.
Suddenly, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Yeah, but that was then and this is now. Dembinski was just sounding me out—I can refuse the trade, or retire if I have to, and he knows it.”
A hint of relief pushed back against her racing heart. “So?” she said, still barely able to speak. “What are you thinking?”
He stepped closer, then put one hand on her shoulder and used the other to tip up her chin so he looked straight into her eyes. Even in the dark of the evening, what she saw there made her throat go tight with emotion.
�
��I’m thinking that there’s only one way I’d ever agree to a trade to Tampa Bay, or anywhere else, for that matter,” he said in a deep but soft voice.
Taylor nodded and waited silently for the other shoe to drop.
He kissed her softly on the lips and then pulled back. “The only way I’ll consider leaving Philly is if you decide you can’t marry me, Taylor.” He gave her a wry smile. “And since I really want to stay, I’m sure hoping you will. And as soon as we can manage it, too. I’ve already talked to Dev about it and she thinks it’s a great idea.”
Taylor felt like her brain was stuck on pause as she tried to make sense of what he’d just said. “Is that a proposal?” she asked cautiously.
He cast his eyes down for a moment, as if he was embarrassed. “Yes, but I don’t want you to think it stems from what the boss just told me. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, now. I’m sorry I don’t even have a ring yet, but we can fix that first thing tomorrow. If you say yes.”
He finally looked at her, and the worry and love and hope in his gaze pierced her with a sense of almost incomprehensible joy. “Oh, my God, I may have to kill you for proposing this way, but yes, Ryan. You bet I’ll marry you.”
After a long embrace—so passionate that they attracted some good-natured cat-calls from a pack of players over by the pool—Taylor and Ryan walked arm-in-arm back to the rollicking party. Back to their daughter, and back to their team and their friends.
Back to their new life together.
* * *
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Please turn the page for an excerpt from Fastball, Book One in the Philadelphia Patriots series.
Fastball
Maddie Leclair knew most women would sell their souls to be in her shoes—the only female on a chartered flight with thirty-five men, twenty-five of whom were professional baseball players. Insanely, wildly hot baseball players. And at least half of them had no wedding rings on their fingers. Her job had many perks, one of which was flying around the country a few dozen times a year with the Philadelphia Patriots of professional baseball’s National League.