Perfect Game

by Collette West

  "Don't you know it's all about the ring, big brother?" Bobby chuckles, grabbing me by the shoulders and giving me a playful squeeze, just like old times.

  "Don't lose Carrie's or Arnold'll tell you what he really thinks of me," I groan.

  "Man, he's as hardcore as they say he is." Bobby whistles under his breath.

  We watch him break up Jake and Roberta's little tête-à-tête, which makes me wonder if Carrie could be right. Does the old man really have a thing for his young, attentive caregiver? I shake my head at the image of Jake and Arnold duking it out over someone like her, since she's a girl who can certainly take care of herself.

  "Yeah, no kidding," I mutter, turning back to Bobby. "Arnold still never apologized to me for leaking my photos," I grumble, because I need to put any grudge that's been festering aside. We're all going to be family soon.

  "Did you expect him too?" Bobby asks.

  "Nah, not really," I sigh.

  "Bro, you already won." Bobby holds his arms up in triumph, mimicking the way I pumped my fist after I'd hit the home run to break the streak. "You're marrying Carrie on his field."

  "I won the first day I laid eyes on her," I murmur, swallowing past the lump in my throat when Carrie emerges from the dugout looking absolutely radiant.

  "Here we go," Bobby chuckles as we stand shoulder to shoulder while Jake takes his place on the pitcher's mound. "You're not gonna pass out, are you?" Bobby elbows me. "Being that these are your last few moments as a single man."

  "No way. I'm glad to see them go," I say without one iota of doubt. "Because no bride has ever looked better than that."

  The wedding march sounds through the PA speakers, and my teammates hold their bats aloft, recreating the arch of sabers usually seen at military weddings. My dad thought it'd be a nice touch, and boy, was he right. The guys are all in their baseball uniforms, looking especially dapper in their pinstripes as Carrie walks beneath their outstretched arms, with Arnold coasting along behind her and Alex trailing in their wake.

  Chase winks at Carrie. "Looking good."

  "Damn, Harper's a lucky man," Colton mutters.

  "Are you sure your sister's already taken?" Jackson teases, eying Alex up.

  Carrie giggles, shaking her head. "You guys are too much."

  But Arnold's not as amused. "Knock it off," he reprimands them. "This is a solemn occasion."

  "Yes, sir." Jilly salutes him as they continue forward.

  "Sorry, Mr. Heimlich," Brooks apologizes for something he didn't even do.

  "It won't happen again, boss," Pedro assures the old man.

  "Oh, Grandpa. You are too much," Carrie sighs as they exit the makeshift tunnel of baseball bats.

  Carrie walks beside his wheelchair, getting closer and closer to me as they start at home plate and make their way toward us. My heart skips a beat at the way she's looking at me, her eyes glowing with happiness. I can't hide my admiration for her—my mouth falls open when the sunlight catches the beaded crystals on the bodice of her dress. She's everything I could ever want and more.

  Once they cross the ninety feet that separates us, Carrie bends down for Arnold to lift her veil over her head, reaching out to help him when his trembling fingers are unable to grasp the gauzy material. It's a touching moment, and I force back the tears that are threatening to fall, trying to wait until Carrie says, "I do," before I really lose it.

  But I can't help but laugh along with everyone else when Arnold's Robo-Voice makes a crack at my expense. "Give that boy hell, Carrie. Make a man out of him."

  "I will, Grandpa," she chuckles, kissing him on top of the head. "I love you."

  "All right, then," Arnold says, backing his chair up and letting the ceremony proceed.

  Alex smiles through her tears. "Let me fix your veil, Carrie."

  "Thanks, Alex. I can't believe this is really happening," Carrie whispers, and my heart thuds in my chest.

  "Take a deep breath, and look at those two gorgeous Harper boys standing up there," Alex replies, beaming over at us.

  "And they're both standing thanks to you." Carrie squeezes her sister's hand.

  "Hopefully, you'll be my matron of honor sooner rather than later." Alex throws Bobby an appraising look.

  "I hope so, too," Bobby mutters just loud enough for me to hear him.

  Carrie takes her place beside me, her eyes lighting up. "You're in your uniform!"

  "Of course I am." I smile down at her. "I know how much you like seeing me in these pants."

  "Do I even want to know what that's about?" Jake asks, ready to get started.

  "Probably not," Carrie replies, that rosy shade of pink I was after entering her cheeks.

  I cross my arms and look at Jake as he shuffles through the paperwork he's holding. "Are you sure you're able to do this?"

  Jake sticks out his chest. "I'm officially registered to perform wedding ceremonies. I printed out my online certificate and everything."

  "Dude, I think you missed your calling. You really should've been a minister." I nudge Carrie's arm. "Doesn't he look the part, Care Bear? All he needs is the collar."

  "Are we ready to begin?" Jake gives me a pointed look.

  "Ignore him, Jake," Carrie replies, showing that she has supreme confidence in his abilities.

  "Jake, just hurry this up before Jilly Junior starts crying again," I groan, looking back at all of our friends and family members who are gathered on the field.

  "You just wait," Bobby chuckles beside me. "You're gonna have a house full of babies soon."

  "Care Bear?" I moan, reaching for her hand.

  "Now, don't go scaring him, Bob," Carrie says, holding on to me. "We're not going to rush into anything. We're having way too much fun being a couple. Right, Scott?" she asks, running her thumb against my palm.

  "And I just wanna get to the honeymoon already, so can we please move things along?" I whine, feeling my skintight pants get even tighter.

  "You're so bad," Carrie whispers in my ear, her eyes flicking mischievously to my crotch and back up again as Jake gets started.

  "That's the way you like me, darlin'." I widen my stance, giving her that cocky grin that always sets her body on fire, smiling even wider when I slide my fingers over her wrist and feel her pulse racing.

  Oh yeah. I think I'm going to like being a married man…a lot.

  BONUS CHAPTER

  Scott

  "Hey, Landry. Where's Julie? Why isn't she here with you?" I ask the ace of our pitching staff about his wife as we all gather round for pictures after the ceremony.

  "She hasn't been feeling too well lately," Landry replies without any trace of his usual Texas swagger. "So I told her not to push it, just stay at the ranch and get some rest."

  "It's nothing serious, I hope," Brooks inquires, holding his wife, Sasha, in his arms, both of them looking worried.

  "Nah, she's just been run-down, not feeling like herself. She went to the doctor on Friday and he did a couple of tests. We should be getting the results back sometime next week," Landry replies.

  I share a glance with Brooks and Sasha, because that doesn't sound too good.

  "Well, tell her we were asking about her," Sasha says, resting her back against the wide expanse of Brooks's chest. "We miss her."

  "Yeah, I will." Landry nods, his eyes downcast.

  "How's Taylor doing?" Sasha asks, doing her best to cheer the poor guy up.

  "She's a little firecracker," Landry says, lifting his head and smiling for the first time. "She started junior barrel racing, but she's been outta the saddle more than in it. Luckily, no broken bones so far."

  "And Jason?" Brooks rests his head against Sasha's, inquiring after Landry's teenage son.

  "He's already starting to look at some colleges," Landry answers, not sounding all that excited about his oldest leaving home. "He even mentioned he might be interested in Fordham or NYU so he could be closer to me during the season."

  "Fordham? Did someone say Fordham?" Carrie asks,
quickly rejoining me after posing with her mom and Alex.

  "That's our alma mater, you know," Clara says, striding up arm in arm with Pedro.

  "Wow. The both of you went there?" Landry whistles. "Must be a good school, then."

  "It sure is, so if he ever needs someone to show him around," Clara encourages as the photographer motions for the single guys to stand on the sidelines, "be sure to hit us up."

  "Just like the two of you used to hit up all the guys at Rosewood back in the day, huh?" Drake remarks, glaring at all of the happy couples before him.

  "What the hell are you talking about, Schultz?" Carrie is quick to snap at him.

  "Online pictures never die, Carrie," Drake drawls, a lascivious smile on his lips. "But I thought your new husband made you well aware of that."

  "You're not gonna ruin my wedding day, Drake, so don't even try." I tighten my arms around Carrie's waist when I feel her rib cage expand and contract rapidly against the confines of her corset, her temper flaring.

  "You're the one who just signed your death warrant, not me," Drake mutters.

  "Why do you always have to be such a downer?" Carrie moans.

  "Because I don't believe in marriage." Drake strides forward, getting right in her face, and I feel my hackles rise. "It's an expensive way of nailing yourself into a wooden box." He laughs at me, seeing the way I'm glaring at him. "I hope you both were smart enough to have a prenup."

  "C'mon, Drake. Just because you're miserable doesn't mean the rest of us are," Sasha zings him right back.

  "Oh, that's right." Drake taps his finger to his chin. "You're all permanent residents of cloud nine. Something you never let me forget," he mumbles darkly, walking away.

  "What's his problem?" Carrie asks, her anger not yet dissipating.

  "He fucked up his own life, and now, he's taking it out on everyone else," I say, holding her close, realizing how lucky I am to have her in my arms. "He's the one who cheated on his wife. He has no one to blame but himself."

  And there's a lot of blame to go around. Drake couldn't stand all of the attention I received throughout the season, and he let me know it, talking smack about me whenever he could. My contract is virtually half of his, but I came through and delivered when it mattered the most, and he didn't.

  No one on the Kings will come out and say it because it's not the kind of team we are, but Drake cost us the World Series. He made a crucial defensive error that ended up turning the momentum in our opponent's favor. And as it usually happens, Drake came up to the plate in the next inning with the hope of redeeming himself, but instead, he struck out with runners on base, killing our rally late in the game. Now, he's going to have a long offseason to think about how he let everyone down. I don't envy him his fat paycheck one bit.

  Jake steps forward, getting pulled into our conversation from where he's standing with Jackson and Colton against the fence. "But in Drake's defense, he did come from a pretty hardscrabble background."

  "You know something about it, Jake?" Jilly asks, waiting for Hailey to join him as Carrie's mom offers to hold their baby boy for her. "Drake's pretty tight-lipped when it comes to his past. Nobody knows anything about him."

  "Yeah. We crossed paths once before when we were younger," Jake states, and he immediately has everyone's full attention. "I was on a mission trip with my church, and we volunteered to help refurbish a run-down, old baseball field in an impoverished town in Appalachia. That's where I met Drake for the first time. He was as hillbilly as they come, but man, even then, he could hit the tar outta the ball. He was the type of player you don't easily forget. I knew he was bound to make it big, I just never imagined he'd one day be the highest-paid player in baseball."

  But that's all Jake has time to say as Chase and Grey finally make their way over, Chase's shirt sticking out of the back of his pants and Grey's hair looking decidedly mussed. Well, I guess nothing makes people hornier than a wedding. Maybe Jake will even get lucky tonight—stranger things have happened, although it would have to be with Roberta.

  The photographer takes forever, positioning us this way and that. Us guys shoot the breeze, comparing the stats of the guys around the league, but I can tell that the ladies are getting antsy, Carrie especially.

  "All right. Enough talking shop," Carrie says when the photographer yells that it's a wrap. "We're here to celebrate, so excuse me if I steal my husband away for a minute. You all head upstairs and enjoy the feast waiting for you in The Players Club's dining room."

  "And you had nothing to do with preparing the food, I hope," Pedro teases her, and Clara punches his arm.

  "Very funny, Señor Gonzalez, but no. With New York's finest chefs involved, no smoke alarms went off in the preparation of this meal, I can promise you that. And don't forget, Clara. You still owe me those cooking lessons. I'm going to need them now that I'm a married woman with no Reginald in the kitchen to save me," Carrie calls out to her friend, while practically dragging me across the field, away from everybody else.

  "Good, 'cause you're gonna need them!" Clara yells back with Pedro nodding emphatically behind her.

  "What is it, Care Bear?" I ask when she finally gets me alone.

  She takes a deep breath. "It's about Drake," Carrie whispers, gazing into my eyes. "Mom told me that she thinks he may be using again."

  "PEDs?"

  "Yeah," she replies, grimacing. "He's all bulked up again, and she checked with Tony and Liam and he hasn't been spending any extra time in the weight room."

  "Which is where I'd like to take you right now," I sigh, wanting to get her mind off Drake and back on me, where it belongs. "I wanna find out what's underneath that dress of yours."

  "Scott, focus. This could be bad," she says, refusing to budge. "In the past, Terry got him to get some of the other guys hooked on PEDs in order to give them an edge. With the way Major League Baseball is cracking down on players who use them, it'd be yet another black mark in the commissioner's book against the Kings. We can't afford any more bad publicity. Not after what happened with Grandpa and Dad."

  Carrie's father isn't at our wedding today because he's currently serving time for refusing to give up the name of the person he hired to hack my phone. He put some criminal ahead of walking his daughter down the aisle on the most important day of her life. How messed up is that? I want her to know that, no matter what, she can always depend on me to be there for her because I'm nothing like her father.

  I peer down at her. "So, you want me to be your eyes and ears in the clubhouse. Is that it?"

  "I know that everybody's taking off because the season's over." Carrie watches as everyone starts exiting the field. "But try to stay in touch with as many of them as you can over the winter. We don't want anyone falling under Drake's influence while no one's watching."

  "Especially young guys like Sanders?" I ask, already worried about my young San Diego turned New York Kings teammate.

  "You're really glad that Gayle snagged him off waivers, aren't you?" She runs her hands up and down my biceps, grinning up at me.

  "Yeah. He's a good kid. We really bonded when I was in San Diego. But in the team's media guide, he listed Drake as his favorite player," I groan.

  "And you think he's going to be starstruck, playing with him?" she inquires, her concern mirroring mine.

  "Not only that, but Drake probably already knows that Sanders idolizes him if he said it in print," I point out to her.

  "Drake observes everything, doesn't he? It's kind of spooky," she remarks, shivering against me.

  I stare down into her face, the vein in my neck throbbing. "I wanna know how he found clubbing pictures of you and Clara."

  "Calm down," she urges. "We used to go to Rosewood when we were in college. He probably just scrolled through our Facebook photo albums from years ago or something. They're not that hard to find."

  "But why would he do that?" I mutter, yanking my jersey out of my pants and quickly unbuttoning it as her body continues to tremble against me. T
he weak October sunlight is in and out of the clouds, and I need to keep her warm. I toss my jersey over her bare shoulders, loving that she's now wearing my number on our wedding day.

  Carrie thanks me with her eyes. "Because Drake's a loser who has no life."

  "Please don't tell me you ever let him buy you a drink," I groan, fearing the worst.

  She shrugs. "No. I don't even remember ever seeing him there. It's probably just a coincidence. Rosewood's the most popular club in the city. If we were there at the same time, he obviously didn't make much of an impression on me."

  "I don't like the fact that he's been watching you…for years," I mutter, my protective instincts kicking in.

  "All he wants to do is rattle us on our wedding day, and I refuse to let him." She rests her hands on my chest, gazing up at me with love in her eyes.

  "Well, can I buy you a drink, Mrs. Harper?" I flirt with her, giving her the oldest pick-up line in the book, liking the way "Mrs. Harper" rolls off my tongue.

  "You can supply me with all the champagne you want, Mr. Harper," she giggles, batting her eyelashes at me.

  "I was thinking more like tequila." I bend down and lift her in my arms, enjoying the sound of her gasp as I carry her off the field. "That seemed to work the first night we spent together."

  "Are you trying to get me drunk to get me into bed with you?" Carrie teases, her breath tickling my face.

  "That's the general idea," I concur, the breeze wrapping the billowy layers of her dress all around me.

  She quirks her eyebrow up in that adorable way of hers. "Then I think it's time to party with my new husband and all of our closest friends."

  "No one parties like the New York Kings. I can guarantee you that," I chuckle, hopping over the white baseline drawn on the grass.

  "I don't know. Bob seems like he might be a party animal, too," she laughs against my neck.

  "Alex better keep him upright is all I'm saying." I hold Carrie sideways, taking care not to get her dress dirty as I descend the dugout steps.

  When we're in the shadow of the tunnel, Carrie reaches down and grabs a hold of me through my pants, her voice coming out low and seductive. "I'm ready to keep you upright all night long, Mr. Harper."