To Win Her Heart (Players)

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Dread slammed into him like a fist. He resisted the urge to crane his neck and look up at his grandmother’s skybox. Damn it. Jessi’s friends and family obviously knew what she was up to. What were they thinking, letting her go through with this? Whatever this was.

  “Unfortunately, like his grandmother, Max can be a little stubborn.”

  He cursed and stepped forward, meaning to rush the stage and grab the mic before she could do any more damage. Gracie held him tighter and Jake blocked his path.

  Tim crossed his arms. “She’s not finished, Max. Trust us, you’re going to want to hear this.”

  “This is Jessi we’re talking about. I’m afraid to hear it.”

  Gracie laughed and waved Jake out of the way so they could see Jessi on the stage.

  She cast her gaze over the crowd. “You see, Max doubts my feelings for him, and I need your help convincing him he’s the perfect man for me.”

  The breath left Max as if he’d been sucker punched. Laughter and cheering echoed through the stands as a second spotlight suddenly captured him in its beam. He squinted against the glare and held up a hand to shield his eyes.

  “What do you say, everyone? Will you help me out?”

  A booming roar of agreement vibrated through the stadium, and her stage smile dropped away beneath a genuine one.

  “Okay, then.” She turned her head. A sheen of tears glistened in the blue gaze that held him spellbound. “Let Max know with a round of applause if you think he should say, ‘Yes, Jessi, I’ll marry you and spend forever loving you.’”

  His knees threatened to give out. The noise was deafening with a chant quickly immerging. Say. I. Do. Say. I. Do. Say. I. Do.

  Gracie poked him in the back and yelled over the din of seventy-five thousand matchmakers. She shoved him toward the stage. “What are you waiting for? Say I do, you idiot.”

  “Well, Max?” Jessi moved to the edge of the stage and held out her hand. “What do you say? Will you make an honest woman of me?”

  Speaking was impossible, but a helpless laugh climbed up from his soul. He could only imagine what it had cost her to face her fear of the stage to tempt him with the deepest desire of his heart. Unpredictable, hell. She was insane. Beautifully, maddeningly, charmingly insane. And she was his. Only a fool would voluntarily walk away from her smile or her love, and he’d never been a fool.

  The doubt and fears of his past fell away with each step he took toward her, elbowing his way past friend and stranger alike to claim forever. He slapped a hand to the stage to vault up beside her, and cheers of approval rang out. The glistening tears in her eyes spilled over as he gathered her in his arms.

  She held the mic to his lips, laughter and love in her eyes.

  He tucked her closer, dipped his head, and said, “I do.”

  The clamor of seventy-five thousand screaming fans was nothing compared to the roar of joy thundering in his head as his mouth claimed hers. With her lips pressed to his, she giggled at the screeching reverberation from the mic trapped between them, and they broke apart.

  “Make it quick, kiddo,” Tim yelled from the grass at the foot of the stage. “You’re out of time, and Tuck has a ring to win.”

  An adorable blush colored her cheeks as she lifted the mic back to her lips. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your grandmother has an early wedding present for you.”

  His grandmother? Wedding present?

  Tim held up a packet of papers. Max swallowed and took them with a shaking hand.

  “Congratulations, my friend.” Tim stepped back, a challenging smile on his face.

  Max dropped his gaze to the top page of the packet and disbelief nearly brought him to his knees. He whipped his gaze to Jessi and shoved the mic far enough away that it wouldn’t pick up his voice. He dropped his mouth to her ear. “Jesus, Jess. This is a deed to….”

  “Haven Place. It’s yours, Max, with your grandmother’s blessing.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “Or it will be once I do one last thing.” She straightened and looked up at the skyboxes lining the top of the stadium.

  Max followed her gaze. High above the field, Elizabeth Krandall’s unsmiling face was visible through the glass of the private suite.

  The crowd quieted as Jessi spoke once more. “Mrs. Krandall, Max and I can’t thank you enough. Gifting us with Max’s mother’s house is so generous of you and means more to us than you’ll ever know.”

  The crowd went wild. High above them, a grimacing smile moved over his grandmother’s face. She slowly lifted her hand in a stilted wave, as if reluctant to do so, but knowing she had little choice.

  “Damn it, Squirt.” Max dipped his mouth to Jessi’s ear. “Do I want to know how you did this?”

  “Probably not.” She shot him a sidelong grin. “Now, give your grandmother a thank-you wave and let’s get out of here. Forever is waiting.”

  Epilogue

  “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

  Jessi sniffled and squeezed her father’s arm. “Stop, Dad. I need to get through this without bawling. Max will think I’ve changed my mind.”

  Ryan chuckled, and CC smiled. Gracie coughed a laughing snort.

  Kris smirked and her eyes danced with mirth. “After you proposed in front of one hundred and eleven million witnesses? Not a chance, girlfriend.”

  Jessi beamed a smile. Exactly one week had passed since they’d set the world of sports and music on fire with their fifty-yard line free-for-all, as Chet Bertrum had reported her half-time proposal. It was one week too long as far as Jessi was concerned. If not for Tuck’s busy schedule after winning his ring, she would have held the wedding immediately following the game. After years of chasing her cage fighting champion, she’d won Max’s heart, and she wasn’t taking any chances he would change his mind.

  Gracie was of the same mind, and along with CC, Kris, and V, had gone above and beyond to have Haven Place ready for the private family service while Jessi dealt with FBI interviews and the dissolution of her partnership with Spence. Her heart was broken over what Alicia had done, but it sounded as if her assistant was taking responsibility for her actions, and a court appearance for Jessi wasn’t likely. Spence had declined the possibility of their working together in the studio. Though Jessi wished he felt otherwise, she understood. Her own singing future was up in the air for now, but she looked forward to getting back into the studio eventually.

  Neither she nor Max had heard a word from his grandmother, but then, Jessi hadn’t expected they would. Her public “thank you” had had the desired effect. Over the past week, the papers had been awash with speculation over the supposed reconciliation of Elizabeth Krandall and her grandson. Max hadn’t yet asked Jessi how she’d gotten hold of the deed to his mother’s home. She’d save telling him she had sworn off screwy plans for when he did.

  As CC handed out the simple bouquets of daisies and greenery, Jessi glanced around the elegantly simple family room leading to the patio. The peace and tranquility Max’s mother had attributed to Haven Place had been evident from the moment she and Max had stepped inside for the first time immediately following their return from Tampa. Her gaze paused on the wooden floor in front of the stone fireplace where Max had tossed down a blanket so they could celebrate properly. They’d spent the entire evening wrapped in peace and tranquility, and each other’s arms.

  Ryan kissed her temple. “Ready, ladies?”

  Jessi gulped an excited breath. Gracie nodded and tucked her arm through CC’s. Jessi’s friends stepped outside in the matching plum cocktail dresses Gracie had pronounced perfect—because they made neither she nor CC look like beached whales. Next went V, then Kris, both stunning in the mid-thigh coral wrap-around dresses Kris had proclaimed would make Tim’s tongue hang on the ground.

  Ryan squeezed Jessi’s hand and led her outside. As if Max’s mother smiled down on them from on high, the weather had cooperated. Sunny and in the mid-sixties, a soft breeze blew over the surpri
singly spacious patio off the private beach and carried the sweet scent of fresh flowers they’d brought in for the day.

  Tuck’s parents and Jessi’s assorted cousins were in attendance with Tim and Jake acting as groomsmen. As best man, Tuck stood beside Max. They turned together. Jessi’s heart fluttered as everyone and everything but Max disappeared.

  The black on black tux suited his tough-guy looks, but it was the love in his eyes that brought tears to hers. His sexy, crooked smile curled her toes and stole her breath. Her father placed her hand in her groom’s and stepped back. Dipping his head, Max didn’t wait for the words to be spoken. He covered her mouth in a voracious kiss to the laughter of the women and catcalls from the men.

  Father Mullen, a long-time friend of the Tucker family, finally cleared his throat, and Max lifted his head.

  “They’re jealous.” He winked and held out her hand, his gaze roaming over her in a thorough study. An appreciative whistle blew through his lips. “You’re beautiful.”

  She smoothed a hand down the skirt of her simple white sheath and treated him to the same inspection. “So are you.”

  A dimple flashed with his grin, and he turned her to face Father Mullen who cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved….”

  Lost in Max’s smile, Jessi didn’t hear a word of the shortened service. It was the little things she noticed, like the way the late afternoon sunlight danced in his ebony hair, and the daisy boutonniere tucked into his lapel, and the warmth of his fingers as he brushed them over her cheek, replacing the lock of hair the breeze tugged from its pins. Rings were exchanged, and she must have given the correct responses because, suddenly, Max was squeezing her fingers.

  “I now pronounce you—”

  “Jake.”

  Jessi turned her head at Gracie’s whispered plea and her eyes widened. A small puddle of water dampened Gracie’s silk heels.

  “Oh, shit.” Terror blazed in Jake’s eyes as he leaped across the distance to grasp his wife’s outstretched hand. “Tell me you peed from excitement, Princess.”

  Her smile looked forced. “Okay, but I’d be lying. My water just broke.”

  CC wrapped an arm around Gracie’s waist. “Oh, sweetie. How long have you been in labor?”

  “I’ve been having contractions for about three hours.”

  Jake paled as if on the verge of passing out. “And you’re just speaking up now?”

  Gracie curled a hand under her large baby bump. “Don’t yell at me. I didn’t want to ruin the day.”

  He whipped out his phone.

  Tuck glared at CC. “Don’t get any ideas. The minute Baby Huey starts knocking, you tell me immediately.”

  His wife curled her lips in a sweet smile. “Knock, knock.”

  V gaped as Kris squealed and threw her arms around her cousin.

  Tuck blanched before color immediately flooded his face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Relax, Daddy.” CC’s teeth flashed in a grin. “Yes, I’m kidding. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

  His brows slammed together in a relieved scowl. “That’s not funny.”

  “I thought it was hilarious.” V snickered and returned CC’s smug smile. Tim laughed and Ryan joined him, shaking his head.

  Jake gripped Gracie’s elbow and turned her toward the house. He met Jessi’s gaze over one shoulder. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”

  “I think there’s one about a mile down the road.” Jessi released Max’s hand and hurried forward.

  “I’m not going anywhere until Max and Jessi are married,” Gracie grumbled and Jake groaned.

  Jessi stumbled to a stop and spun around, her gaze flying to Max. His lips were quirked in a crooked smile. Holy crap. What am I doing? We’re getting married!

  Jake whipped his head around to glare at Max, flapping his hand in a hurry up motion.

  Max’s eyes sparkled with restrained laughter. “What do you say, Squirt? Shall we put them out of their misery?”

  She grinned and placed her hand in the one he held out. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Father,” he said without looking away.

  Father Mullen cleared his throat. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride. Again.”

  THE END

  Meet the Author

  Wife, mother and really young grandmother, Mackenzie Crowne shares her home with her high school sweetheart husband, a neurotic Pomeranian, and a blind cat. She calls Arizona home because the southwest feeds her soul. Her love of the romance genre has been a lifelong affair, both as a reader and a writer. A bout with breast cancer sharpened her resolve to see her stories shared with others. Today, she’s an eight-year survivor, living the dream. Her friends call her Mac. She hopes you will too. Visit her website at mackenziecrowne.com, find her on Facebook, or follow her on Twitter at twitter.com/MacCrowne.Check out another great read from Lyrical Press

  Life beyond the game…

  BETTER THAN PERFECT

  More Than a Game, Book One

  Kristina Matthews

  Johnny “The Monk” Scottsdale has won it all on the baseball diamond. He’s even pitched a perfect game. Known for his legendary control both on and off the field, his pristine public image makes him the ideal person to work with young players in a preseason minicamp. Except the camp is run by the one woman he can’t forget…the woman who made him a “monk.”

  Alice Harrison once traded her dreams so that Johnny Scottsdale could make it to the Majors—and then her dreams fell apart. Now here comes Johnny back into her life, just when she’s ready to finally go after her dreams. This time she’s not letting up. Even if she has to reveal what she’s kept secret for too long from her son and Johnny. She’s can’t be sure how things will turn out, but she’s not leaving until she swings for the fences…

  Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Chapter 1

  “Pitchers and catchers report to spring training in thirteen days, twenty-one hours and seventeen minutes,” Hall of Fame broadcaster Kip Michaels announced, and the crowd went wild. “Kicking off today’s Fan Fest, I’d like to introduce one of our newest players. Two-time Cy Young Award winner, perennial All-Star, and the last man to pitch a perfect game. Give a warm San Francisco welcome to Johnny ‘The Monk’ Scottsdale.”

  Thirty thousand people were expected at the ballpark today. A great crowd—for a baseball game. But instead of working the count, Johnny would be working the crowd. Answering questions. Signing autographs. Putting himself out there in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He was as nervous as the day he’d made his professional debut fourteen years ago. Butterflies? Try every seagull on the West Coast taking roost in his stomach.

  Focus. Breathe. Let it go.

  “Thank you. I’m thrilled to be here.” He’d much rather face the 1927 Yankees than sit in front of a camera and a microphone talking about his game instead of playing it. “I hope I can help the team bring home a World Series Championship.”

  He tried to relax his shoulders. Tried to hide his nerves. The Goliaths could be his last team. His last shot at a ring. His final chance to prove himself and leave a legacy that went beyond the diamond.

  After fielding a few questions about what he could bring to the team, and deflecting some praise about his success so far, Johnny was released to another part of the park to sign autographs. Little Leaguers approached with wide eyes and big league dreams. Tiny tots with painted faces squirmed with excitement about getting cotton candy while their parents shoved them forward to collect an autograph. A shy boy with a broken arm asked him to sign his cast. The look on his face was more than worth the discomfort of being in the spotlight for something other than his on-field performance.

  Johnny had signed the big contract. The team paid him a lot of money to pitch every five games. They also paid him to interact with the fans, to be an ambassador for the game he’d loved for so long. The game that had saved hi
m from a completely different kind of life.

  He shared a table with another new player, shortstop Bryce Baxter. They were set up near the home bullpen along the third base line. Several other stations were set up around the park, giving fans a chance to get up close and personal with the players. Some tried to get a little too personal.

  “So you’re the hot new pitcher.” A busty brunette leaned over the autograph table, wearing what appeared to be a toddler-sized tank top. The team logo sparkled in rhinestones and she was obviously well aware of the attention she drew. “I’d be more than happy to show you around.”

  “No thanks. I’m pretty familiar with the city.” He held his pen ready, although she didn’t seem to have anything to autograph. Nothing he was willing to sign, anyway.

  “I could take you places you’ve never been.” She leaned over even more.

  Johnny kept his head down, trying to avoid gazing at what she had to offer. He reached for a stock photo, scrawled his signature across the bottom, and slid the picture forward, hoping she’d take the hint and leave.

  “You forgot your number.” She pouted.

  “Sorry. I don’t give that out.” Johnny wished he could retreat to the locker room. Get away from her and the crowd that seemed to be growing. He never understood why people would wait in line to make small talk and take his picture. He gripped the black marker, needing something to do with his hands. If he only had a baseball, he could roll it around in his palm. Feel the smoothness of the leather, the rough contrast of the raised stitches. Find comfort in the weight and the symmetry of the one thing he could always control.

  His teammate inserted himself into the conversation. “Do you know who this is? The one and only Johnny ‘The Monk’ Scottsdale.”

  “The Monk?” She drew her gaze over Bryce, then glanced at Johnny before settling on Bryce once more.