Читать книгу Earning A Ring - Kristina Mathews - Страница 9

After a restless night, Bryce was awoken by the phone. Scrubbing his gritty eyes, he glanced at the caller ID, hoping it was Rachel. No such luck.

“Morning, Jillian, what do you need?” With his ex-wife, it was always something. Not that he didn’t send her enough money to run a small country.

“Hailey needs braces.” Jillian huffed, as if it was somehow his fault.

“She’s nine. Does she even have all her permanent teeth?” He usually tried to keep his interactions with his ex-wife friendly and upbeat, but he was tired and cranky and sometimes he just couldn’t fake it.

“If they do it now, she shouldn’t have to go through the humiliation of wearing braces in high school.” She used the same tone of voice she’d used when they were married. It was as if she thought he couldn’t possibly understand the burden placed upon her by parenthood. He was, after all, a dumb jock.

“So there’s still a chance she’ll need them again when she’s older?” He’d never had to deal with braces or acne as a teenager. It was one of the few advantages of late puberty. He’d been skinny, but athletic, so he’d had to work twice as hard as the other kids on his team. But while most of his Little League teammates had peaked at twelve, he was still in the game.

“Are you going to pay for it or what?”

“Of course. Don’t I always?” He’d never deny his daughter anything. If he couldn’t be around, the next best thing was to make sure she had everything she needed.

“I also need twelve hundred dollars for her summer camp.” Jillian let out a sigh indicating she was insulted to even have to ask.

“Is this a fencing camp?” Fencing was an Olympic sport, right? Maybe someday his little girl would win a gold medal. After all, being a champion was in her blood.

“Oh God, she gave that up ages ago.” She made it sound like it was his fault he couldn’t keep up with Hailey’s ever-changing interests. “No. It’s a theater camp.”

“Theater? Like plays?”

“Yes. Musicals.”

He held his breath, waiting for a request for more money to hire a voice coach.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll have a great time.” He just hoped the camp wasn’t during the same week he’d make his one and only trip to Pittsburgh this summer. His time with his daughter was limited enough without missing out on being able to take her for lunch before he played a night game. He knew better than to ask Jillian to let her actually come to a game. But maybe when she got a little older and could start making her own decisions about spending time with him. That was if Jillian didn’t brainwash her into thinking he was scum.

Maybe he should get Hailey a cell phone. That way he could talk to her without her mother controlling… Yeah, as if Jillian wouldn’t try to control Hailey’s cell phone usage. If she’d let her have one in the first place. Of course, if he even suggested it, she’d shoot him down faster than she could cash a check.

“Is Hailey there? Can I say hello?” He hated having to beg for his daughter’s affection. For every moment of time with her.

“She’s still in school.” He could practically hear Jillian roll her eyes. But when he worked up to seventeen days in a row, he often lost track of what day of the week it was.

“Well, tell her I said hello and that I miss her.” As if those words could even begin to state how he felt about the little girl who had her mother’s eyes, but his whole heart.

“Sure.” She sighed, making it sound like a big inconvenience to relay the simple message. “So are you going to send the money?”

“I’ll send it this afternoon, before I go to work.” He never really cared about how much he sent, as long as it was for Hailey. “Anything else?”

“No. That’s it for now.” Jillian’s voice was like ice. She hated him. Always had, and always would. He wondered why she’d ever even slept with him. Surely she hadn’t planned on getting pregnant and making his life miserable ever since? At least he’d gotten a daughter out of the deal. Even though he only saw her a few times a year, she was worth it. And someday, he’d be able to prove to her just how much she meant to him.

Now he had another child to take care of. He’d have to split his resources between two families. Right now, he had plenty to go around. But his recent play only served to remind him that his career would only last so long. And then he’d have to pay for Hailey’s college, her wedding.

And what about the new baby?

He didn’t want to be just some guy who sent money, showing up only at Christmas, kind of like Santa Claus, bringing gifts and then leaving again. He wasn’t sure if Hailey even believed in him anymore.

He had to do things differently this time. He had to work out something between him and Rachel. Something more than a custody arrangement.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get it right this time.

* * * *

Rachel made it to the ballpark without any morning sickness. She took it as a sign that things would turn around. Maybe keeping the news from Bryce had made things worse, and now that he knew, she would get through the rest of her pregnancy with minimal discomfort.

Rachel’s producer, Steve Montoya, pulled her aside before she headed to the field for a pregame interview with Nathan Cooper. The left-handed reliever had been traded last season, but he’d been invited back to spring training and had made a good impression so far. He’d done well in relief last night, but the damage had been done when Bryce messed up on the double-play ball.

“We’re in uncharted territory here.” Steve had a serious note in his voice.

Rachel’s stomach lurched. Had he discovered her relationship with Bryce? Her cameraman, Carl, seemed to sense something was going on between the two of them. Oh, he never said a word, but he watched her carefully, almost as if he was waiting for her to crack under the pressure of keeping a secret of this kind. She didn’t think he’d rat her out. No, Carl had always had her back. But she got the feeling he was disappointed in her. They both knew she should know better than to get involved with a player. Especially a guy with Bryce’s reputation and one failed marriage behind him.

Not that she was looking to get married. She wasn’t that big of a fool.

So what did she want from Bryce? Besides great sex? Really great sex.

She wanted to forget him. To be able to do her job, and not have to hold her breath every time he stepped into the batter’s box. She wanted to be able to interview him after the game and not secretly hope for, yet dread, an invitation back to his place once the camera stopped rolling.

“Defending a title is different than just trying to make the playoffs,” Steve was saying. “Expectations are higher. Fans are less patient.”

Rachel could only nod, and hold her breath while waiting for the hammer to come down. She started mentally putting her résumé together.

“I know it’s been tough these first few weeks.” Steve exhaled with the frustration they were all feeling. “But I need you to focus on the positive. Stay upbeat. Your job is to keep the hope alive.”

She concentrated on the word “is.” She still had a job. For now.

“Positive. Upbeat.” She gave him her best camera-ready smile. “Always. We’re behind our guys one hundred percent.”

“Good. I knew I could count on you.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “It’s funny. We did such a good job at making the fans feel a part of last year’s victory, that now they feel like they’re owed back-to-back championships.”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“But I know you’ll do your part to keep it going.” He gave her an encouraging nod. “Seek out the first timers, the bachelorette parties. Find soldiers on leave taking in a ballgame before they head back to their mission overseas. Focus on the ballpark experience. Make them want to be here even if the team isn’t winning.”

“Keep them happy until the team gets back on track. I can do that.” She wasn’t getting fired. Just a pep talk.

“Exactly.”

“So I’ll interview the guys who are performing well, like Nathan Cooper or Marco Santiago.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Just stay away from Bryce Baxter.” He shook his head. Oh God. He knew. He knew and he was disappointed in her. Time to update her résumé, after all.

She’d been contacted by an up-and-coming network about doing a sports talk show “for women who love sports, by women who love sports.” But Jock Talk was nothing more than a gossip show that focused more on the players’ private lives than what occurred on the field of play. What they drove, where they ate—and most importantly—who they were sleeping with got more attention than anything the athletes accomplished on the field. They would have loved the story about Johnny “The Monk” Scottsdale and his child with his college sweetheart. It would have made headlines, but not the kind she wanted her name associated with.

Could she do it if it were her only option? If it was the only way she could support herself and her unborn child? It would be a lot easier if the studio wasn’t located in New Jersey.

“I only interview the players who help the team.” She held her voice steady. She wasn’t going to give him any reason to doubt her. “If a guy contributes on the field, the fans will want to hear from him after the game.”

“Right now Baxter looks about as lost as he can get.” He continued to shake his head. Almost as though he was disappointed in Baxter, too. “When he’s hot, he’s golden. He’s got that Midas touch.”

He had no idea.

“Let’s hope he gets it back. We need him.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, a touch of familiarity she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “And the on-screen chemistry between you two is something else. The fans love it.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. The last thing she needed was to faint. Or throw up.

“It’s all on him.” She willed her stomach to stay calm, for five more minutes. “He’s one of the players who gets it. He understands that his job isn’t just between the foul lines. He knows how to play to the crowd.”

And she was only making things worse. She should stop talking, before Steve realized that Bryce had also been playing her.

“Everybody loves Bryce Baxter.” He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “But they love him even more when the Goliaths are winning.”

“We all look better when the Goliaths are winning.”

Rachel watched her boss walk away, leaving her feeling like a pitcher who’d somehow gotten out of a bases-loaded jam. Her stomach was starting to settle, but she felt as though she could go lie down in the clubhouse and sleep for three days.

Still, she’d have to be very careful around Bryce. She couldn’t let their relationship, or lack of one, get in the way of her job. She wondered how her boss would react when he found out the chemistry between her and Bryce had developed into biology. She’d have to explain that although they were having a baby together, they weren’t a couple. And sure, she would be able to maintain a professional relationship with the player who’d knocked her up.

She couldn’t think about all of this right now. Not when she had a job to do. Nathan Cooper was expecting an interview.

Carl stood with his camera ready as Rachel seated herself next to Cooper in the dugout.

“In twelve appearances, you’ve given up only two hits and no walks, with seven strikeouts. I guess it’s safe to say your shoulder’s feeling pretty good.” She kept her tone upbeat, her expression friendly.

“Yeah, the shoulder feels great. The surgery was a success, and I spent the offseason building strength and flexibility.” He offered a warm smile for the camera. “I’m healthy and ready to go the distance.”

“Keep pitching like you have been, and you’ll have a chance at going all the way.” No, that didn’t sound cheesy at all. But her job was to stay positive, upbeat, like the t-baller’s mom who smiles and praises effort, and win or lose, takes them all out for ice cream.

“Thank you. I really hope I can contribute down the stretch. The Goliaths organization has faith in me, and I don’t want to let them down ever again.” Cooper nodded and headed out to the field of play to join his teammates.

She signed off, relieved that the subject of Cooper’s suspension last year did not come up.

“Hard to believe that’s the same guy,” Carl said after the camera stopped rolling. “He used to think he was hot shit. He was hot shit. But was it because he was juiced or because he was that talented?”

“He’s got talent. Always has. But you’re right. He’s definitely humbled.” She’d been doing this job for four years. She’d dealt with some pretty big egos, and Nathan Cooper had been one of the biggest. Had he really changed? Or had he been hiding behind a cocky façade, like another ballplayer she knew only too well?

She watched the game, hoping tonight would be a reversal of the team’s bad luck. Because that’s all it was. Luck. Some balls were hit hard, but right at someone. Others were weakly hit but they dropped in between the defenders. Baseball was like that. Teams ran into stretches where they couldn’t buy a hit with a platinum card. Or the diamonds studding their World Series rings.

That was part of the problem. Once they’d reached the mountaintop, the view from the foothills wasn’t enough anymore. It was like staying in a cheap motel after living the high life at a five-star resort. Or like being with another man after having been with… She really needed to get over Bryce Baxter. Maybe she should invest in a vibrator. As if that could help her keep her head in the game.

It wasn’t even May and the fans, the talk show hosts, and bloggers were all ready to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. Who did they blame the most? Bryce Baxter. World Series Most Valuable Player. He’d been the savior. The man who’d brought them to salvation. Six months ago, he’d practically walked on water. Now he was being ripped apart on the Internet and talk radio.

And every single jab struck her straight in the heart. Bryce Baxter was a friend. A lover. The father of her child. But more than that, he was someone she’d grown to care about. Maybe even love if it wasn’t such a ridiculously bad idea.

There was a reason she had a rule against getting involved with players. Besides being unprofessional, it was just asking for trouble.

At least his game had improved tonight. He drew a walk his first at bat. Later, he moved the runner from second to third on a sacrifice fly. And his defense was back on track. He’d made a spectacular dive in the fourth inning, saving what would have been two runs had it gotten through the infield.

She was able to breathe. And to continue to do her job. She interviewed fans around the ballpark. The eighty-seven-year-old fan who was celebrating her birthday as she’d done every year since the Goliaths had come to San Francisco. The bride-to-be who had converted her betrothed from a die-hard L.A. fan into seeing the light and pledging his eternal allegiance to the Goliaths for as long as they both shall live.

And she’d met a half dozen babies attending their very first Goliaths game. They wouldn’t remember the day, but the certificate would be proudly displayed in the nursery or placed in their baby books. Her heart warmed at the pride that the parents of these sweet little babies held at sharing their passion with the next generation. But some of them were so tiny. She marveled at the itty-bitty Goliaths headbands, onesies, and miniature jerseys. It was all she could do not to burst into tears when she was handed a tiny infant wearing a pint-sized Bryce Baxter jersey.

He came up to bat with the bases loaded and two outs in the bottom of the seventh. The score was tied. She watched with a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with morning sickness. A hit or walk would score the possible winning run. She and forty thousand others silently willed Bryce to get a hit.

The first two pitches caught the outside part of the plate. Bryce took the first for a ball, then swung and missed the second. With the count 1-1, the pitcher came inside. Bryce flinched as the ball hit him square on the arm. He dropped the bat and grimaced as he hustled down to first base.

A run scored, giving the Goliaths the lead. The way things had been going lately, they’d take a run any way they could get it. The next batter, Marco Santiago, flied out to deep right and the inning was over. The score held up, and the losing streak ended.

Rachel interviewed the closer, Diego Garcia, after the game. He was usually a good interview: confident, cocky, and always entertaining. He gave the sound bite, offered Rachel a fist bump, and retreated to the clubhouse.

She was just about to wrap it up when Bryce approached her. He flashed his million-dollar grin and she hated the fact that her heart did a little flutter. Damn that man. He was too sexy for his own good. And entirely too sexy for her own good.

“Way to take one for the team.” She tried to sound objective but she worried she was transparent when it came to her feelings for this man. “How’s the arm?”

“Fine. Worth it to get the win.” Bryce continued to grin as if he had the whole world at his feet. “I’ve had a rough go of it these last few weeks. But one thing that’s gotten me through these painful losses and tough wins was knowing I’d see your pretty face after the game.”

Rachel felt heat flash across her skin. Her stomach rolled. She was on camera, so she simply smiled, even though she had a horrible feeling he was going to do something outrageous.

Bryce reached into his back pocket, where he usually kept his batting gloves, and pulled out a small velvet-covered box. He dropped to one dirt-covered knee.

“Rachel Parker, will you marry me?”

Her jaw dropped open. She felt the earth tilt on its axis. She happened to glance up at the scoreboard. They had broadcast Bryce’s proposal, right there on the big screen for everyone to see.

“Please, Rachel. Say you’ll be my wife.” Bryce looked up at her with his big blue eyes. His irresistible smile. And that little something that rendered her completely powerless to deny the man anything, whether it was an invitation to his bed or a preposterous proposal. The only thing she could keep from him was her heart.

“Yes.” She barely got the word out before the tears sprang forth and she dropped her microphone. The crowd cheered. Many of the forty thousand people in attendance were still on hand to witness the most exciting, the most humiliating moment of her life.

Bryce slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her, bringing her to her knees and the crowd to a collective “Awww.”

Her cameraman shut off the live feed. But there were still plenty of fans nearby. She had to continue the façade. They loved Bryce, and couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t be thrilled to marry the sexiest shortstop in baseball.

As soon as she caught her breath, Rachel tried to gather herself together. She unclipped her earpiece, the large diamond ring weighing heavy on her hand.

Bryce stood there at the top of the dugout steps, grinning like a kid at Christmas. What could he possibly be thinking? She didn’t want to get married. And there was no way he actually wanted to get married.

She checked with her producer, making sure she was finished for the day. Hopefully she wasn’t finished for her career.

“Hey, I got this.” Carl assured her. “You two go celebrate. And congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Rachel felt heat creep across her cheeks. She’d been trained to always go along with the story. Only this time she’d become the story.

“We need to talk.” She followed Bryce into the clubhouse where they were greeted by applause, whistles, and catcalls.

“I’m in trouble already.” Bryce grabbed her hand and if they didn’t have so many witnesses, she would have pulled it away. Instead, she had to put on her best glowing-bride-to-be smile.

They found an empty training room and she pushed the door shut, keeping her hands on the frame while she took a calming breath. She turned to face him, and saw his cat that ate the canary grin.

Calmness was overrated.

“Of all the arrogant, irresponsible— Are you totally out of your mind?”

“I thought it was romantic.” Bryce’s eyes twinkled with merriment.

“Romantic?” She was not going to fall for his charm. Not this time. “Maybe if you actually wanted to marry me. But Bryce, you can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I can be serious.” He closed the distance between them. Standing so close she could almost feel his heartbeat, he leaned into her space. “I can be very serious.”

He placed his finger under her chin, tilting her head so he could look into her eyes.

“Please, Rachel, won’t you take a chance on me?” He rested his forehead against hers. The heat from his body radiated through her. He hadn’t showered yet and he smelled of sweat, glove leather, and that scent that was uniquely his. “Take a chance on us.”

“You make it sound so simple. I almost want to believe you.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want you to resent our child.” She could barely get the words out past the lump in her throat.

“Never.” He shook his head. “How can you even suggest that?”

“I know how you feel about your ex-wife. I’ve heard you say it enough times.”

“That’s totally different.” He backed up, folded his arms across his chest.

“No, Bryce, it’s not. You only married her because she was pregnant. You wouldn’t have proposed to me if I wasn’t pregnant.”

“Ah, hell.” He fisted his hands, clenched his jaw, and exhaled. “There’s one crucial difference here.”

“What’s that?”

“I like you.” He shrugged, his lips twitching with amusement.

“You like me?” Hope bloomed in her chest. But it was overrun by disbelief.

“Well, yeah. I do.” He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm. “I like you a lot.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she did both.

“Rachel, look at me.” This was a side of Bryce she’d never seen. Serious. Sincere. And very dangerous where her heart was concerned. “I know it seems kind of sudden, maybe a little bit crazy. But I just know that when I’m with you, everything feels right. You’re good for me. You’re good for my game.”

“Your game?” She knew it was too good to be true. “You want to marry me because you think it will help your game?”

“No. That’s not it.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “All I know is that everything I accomplished last season was so much better because you were there with me. We can be great together. Let’s take a swing at it.”

She knew the odds were against them. They didn’t have a solid relationship, and bringing a baby into the world would be hard enough without the added pressure of the spotlight given to the reigning World Series MVP and his Emmy-award-winning fiancée.

“I can’t marry you, Bryce.” She wanted to believe in him, but even he couldn’t pull this off. “It just would never work.”

“But you already said yes.” He sounded a little surprised; it was the first time she’d ever turned him down.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the camera.”

“So what do we do? Break up after the next home stand?” Now he sounded angry. “Should we have a fight in front of the camera? How will that protect your job?”

“I don’t know.” This whole thing was out of her control. “I just know that getting married isn’t the answer. And now that the whole world knows about our relationship, I doubt my career is going to go anywhere. Just this afternoon, my boss warned me to stay away from you. Then you go and propose live in front of everyone.”

Rachel didn’t know how to stay strong, but she just knew she had to. She wasn’t sure why she’d said yes. Part of it was the lights, the crowd, the romanticism of the gesture. Part of it was wanting to believe he really did want her. That he wasn’t just trying to deflect the spotlight away from his game.

“What do you want me to do?” He sounded bewildered. It wasn’t an emotion she ever expected from him. “Do you want me to take it back? To go on camera and say the proposal was a joke? I didn’t mean it?”

“You didn’t mean it,” she said softly. “I know you don’t want to marry me. You don’t even want to date me. You just wanted to sleep with me whenever you had a good game. I was like your champagne.”

He looked as if she’d just slapped him. But then he recovered and he moved in with that slow, sexy grin. “I do want to marry you.”

“No. You don’t.” She knew in her heart that he couldn’t. “But don’t worry. I’ll think of something. You just concentrate on your game. I’ll figure out how to fix this.”

“So that’s it?” His smile faded.

She nodded, unable to say anything more. After taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Bryce followed her into the clubhouse. Someone handed her a glass of champagne and offered another to Bryce.

“Congratulations to the happy couple.” Marco Santiago lifted his own glass.

“Congratulations!”

“Cheers!”

Rachel knew everyone was watching her, expecting her to take a sip. Her hands shook both from having everyone watching her, and from wondering if one sip would hurt the baby. But if she didn’t take a drink, it would only raise further questions about their sudden, if fake engagement.

She brought the glass to her lips, the lights of the clubhouse reflecting off the ridiculously large diamond on her finger.

* * * *

Bryce could tell Rachel was stressed about drinking the champagne. She couldn’t because of the baby, but not participating in a celebratory toast would raise questions neither of them was ready to answer right now.

He leaned over, and whispered into her ear. “Pretend I’m saying something so funny you can’t help but spit champagne all over the place.”

Like a trooper, she sputtered her drink and spilled what was left in her glass.

“We appreciate your support,” Bryce told his teammates. “But we’d really like to celebrate in private.”

He placed his hand on her lower back and escorted her out of the clubhouse.

“Thank you for that.” She sounded genuinely grateful for his rescue.

“Hey, we’re in this together.” Despite the fact that she was getting cold feet. But in a way he couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t exactly the scenario little girls dreamed of. He certainly hoped his daughter didn’t pretend to meet some guy at a bar, get knocked up, married, and divorced within a year like her mother had done. “Come to my place tonight.”

She shook him off.

“Look, you said yes on camera, so publicly, we are engaged. We’re going to act like we’re going through with the wedding.”

“I really don’t think—”

“You said yes. So here’s the deal.” He raked his hands through his hair. “We give it to the All-Star break. If I’m still in this slump, no one will blame you for dumping me.”

“Oh, sure. That will make me look great. I dump you because you don’t make the All-Star team? That’s really professional. Especially since I’ll be showing by then.” Her lower lip quivered. He couldn’t handle it if she cried.

He did the only thing he could think of, covered her trembling lips with his own.

She hesitated at first, then opened up for the kiss. God, he’d missed the taste of her. Pulling her close, he savored her sweetness. He was just about to deepen the kiss when she pushed him away.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” She tried to smooth her jacket, but he could tell she was flustered. Her body and her mind were in opposition. He had a bad feeling her mind was going to win this time.

“Fine. I’ll take the couch.” He knew he had to be patient with her. Just like he needed to be more patient at the plate.

“I’m not going to marry you either.” She was lying. Maybe just to herself.

“Look, we don’t have to rush into anything.” Maybe if he played it cool, she’d come around. “It’s not like we have to be married before the baby comes. Being engaged will probably satisfy most people. I’m sure you’ll get a few crazies who will brand you as immoral.”

She snorted.

“I’m constantly being told I’m going to Hell.” He shrugged. “But the ride has sure been fun.”

“You’re impossible.” She shook her head, but at least she was smiling.

“Impossible to resist, I know.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her to his car.

“Not entirely.” Rachel held her back stiff, but at least she didn’t pull away. “I’ll go along with the fake engagement for now. But as soon as I figure out how to keep my job, keep the fans from feeling betrayed, and come up with a good reason to break off our engagement, I’ll give you back the ring.”

Part of him wanted to tell her to give it back now, but that wouldn’t help either of them. They were both in the public eye, and he was well aware of the double standard that he could get away with a lot more than she could. She would need a very good reason to dump his ass even though she was pregnant with his child. His game couldn’t get that bad, that she’d be justified. He’d need to do something really stupid. Like get caught with another woman. Or steroids. But he was done with the first, and wouldn’t ever go with the second.

He’d just have to come up with a way to convince her to marry him.

* * * *

Bryce had been good as his word. He took the couch while Rachel spent a restless night sleeping in his bed, alone, except for his scent fueling vivid and erotic dreams. She still wanted him, but she had to be stronger than ever to resist. The sexy dreams were only mildly frustrating in that she couldn’t act on them. Even more disturbing was the dream that they were getting married at home plate, with the stands full of thousands of women. Instead of rice or birdseed, the newlywed couple was pelted with panties after their nuptial kiss.

And she was no closer to figuring out how to get out of this engagement without making herself or Bryce look bad. But she couldn’t have said no on camera, in front of everyone. That was her problem. She just couldn’t say no to the man.

After breakfast, he took her to get her car at the ballpark. She drove home, changed, and headed back into San Francisco for the day game. Before she could get to the field, her producer pulled her aside.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” Steve seemed sincere.

“Thank you.” She felt a warm blush heat her cheeks. “Sorry about not staying away from Baxter. But don’t worry, I won’t let our relationship affect my work.”

“See, that’s the thing,” Steve said. “The fans loved it. They love Bryce Baxter, and they really want to root for him. With his poor performance lately, they haven’t had much to cheer about. Haven’t had much to watch. But the ratings were through the roof on the post-game last night. The replays of the proposal got more hits than any regular season show.”

“Well, it was unexpected.” She felt like there were a thousand seagulls diving for garlic fries in her stomach right now.

“I’m telling you, they loved it. They want more.”

“I don’t think any of the other players are going to propose.” Did she just say that?

“No. They want more of you and Bryce.” He grinned. “In fact, I was thinking of doing a regular segment. Follow the two of you as you make your wedding plans. You know, testing cakes, interviewing caterers.”

“We haven’t even set a date. It would have to be some time in November.” But the baby was due in mid-December. The last thing she wanted was to have Carl filming her while she tried on wedding dresses that would accommodate an enormous belly. Did they even make maternity wedding dresses?

“When you do, we’d love to go along for the ride,” he said. “I mean, the viewers would love to come along for the ride. I knew there was some kind of magic between you two.”

“Yeah. Magic.” Not to mention the little miracle growing inside her. But did she really want to turn her life into a reality show? No. Especially when the truth was not what her producer or the fans would want to see.

“So run it by your fiancé, see if he’s up for doing a regular check-in on your wedding plans.”

“Sure thing. I’ll let you know.” She was screwed. Rachel wasn’t sure what would be worse. Getting fired or getting her own reality show. Had it come down to this? Did fans want to see Bryce Baxter picking out china instead of picking off runners on a double play? Were thread counts nearly as important as pitch counts? She almost wanted to return to the days when box scores were all you needed to know about a player.

But in this era of social media, twenty-four-seven sports coverage, and all-access celebrity gossip, those days were as long gone as a ten-cent hot dog.

Rachel did her job, stopping to chat with fans around the ballpark. Many of them congratulated her on the engagement, and it seemed like they were genuinely happy for her.

The game remained scoreless into the eighth inning. As it got closer to the end of the game, Rachel started to get nervous about seeing Bryce after the final out. She hoped to interview him, because that would mean he’d contributed to the win and she’d have something to talk to him about besides the idea of planning their wedding on camera.

With a runner on third, Bryce stepped to the plate in the bottom of the inning. He fouled off five pitches before launching one into the left field bleachers. The Goliaths hung on to the two-run lead and sure enough, Rachel interviewed him after the game.

“That was quite a shot.” Her heart leaped at his success. “You looked like the Bryce Baxter we all know and love.”

His lips twitched in a naughty grin. She shouldn’t have said “love.” She was talking about the way the fans felt about him, not her, but the smoldering look in his eyes made her regret her choice of words.

“I just went out there and tried to look for a pitch to hit. I wanted to put the ball in play.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sometimes I get lucky and I get all of it.”

“We often forget how much luck plays a part in the game.” She tried to keep her comments upbeat, neutral. She couldn’t show her feelings for Bryce, despite what her producer said the fans wanted. “You don’t work any harder on the days you win than on the days you lose. You’re not any less prepared when you go hitless as when you have a three-hit night. And it’s not possible for you to care less about the games now than you did last season.”

“You’re absolutely right. If anything, I’ve worked harder this season than any other.” He was telling the truth. “Maybe a little too hard. Maybe I need to take a step back, adjust my focus, and my game will get back on track. I do have to say I was much more relaxed tonight than I have been for some time. Thank you for that.”

A blush heated her cheeks. Now all of Northern California would think she and Bryce had spent a night of passion that led to his home run. Which would mean the next time he struggled at the plate, they would assume she was holding out on him. Why, why, why did he have to throw their so-called relationship out into the public eye? And how was she going to deal with planning a wedding on camera? A wedding she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go through with.

She finished the interview with a few canned phrases, sincere congratulations, and a smile for the camera.

Once Carl turned off the live feed, Bryce leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Wait for me in the clubhouse.”

She simply nodded. There was a time when she’d been granted access only for a limited time before and after games. But as a player’s fiancée, she would be allowed to stay as long as Bryce was there. The line between her professional life and her personal one had become very blurry and she didn’t like it.

And her producer wanted her to make it even fuzzier.

* * * *

Bryce, fresh from the shower, found Rachel waiting for him in the family area of the clubhouse. Her cameraman had left with the other reporters and she was trying to make herself comfortable, but she looked as anxious as she’d been the night she threw up on his car.

“Everything all right?” He placed a quick kiss on her cheek. He didn’t trust himself to kiss her on the lips, not with a few of his teammates still milling about.

“You won the game. So that’s good.” She was holding something back.

“What’s wrong?” He ran his hand down her arm and she shivered. But not in a good way.

“The whole engagement is spinning out of control.” Her voice was a little unsteady. So unlike her.

“What do you mean?” Why couldn’t she just tell him what was wrong? She’d never beaten around the bush with him before. Of course, they hadn’t done a lot of talking most of the time, other than right there. And oh yes, just like that.

“So my producer has this crazy idea that the fans want to be a part of our wedding plans.” She said it as though she had a bad taste in her mouth. “He wants to do a regular segment, following us around as we pick out flowers, taste-test cakes, interview caterers.”

She looked away, as if she was giving the worst kind of news.

“That could be fun.” He watched her cringe, and knew she didn’t want to do the show. “But I get the feeling you’re not up for that.”

“Come on, Bryce. It’s hard enough pretending like we’re a happy couple.” She brushed her hair off her forehead. “And in a couple of months, it’s going to be pretty obvious why we’re faking this engagement.”

“Who said anything about faking it?” He stepped closer, almost to the point of touching. “I’ve never faked it. And I know you’ve never had to fake it.”

“I can’t just smile at the camera and pretend that planning a wedding is the most important thing in my life.”

“Do you not want to plan the wedding in front of the camera?” He knew she’d only said yes to save face. She was scared, that was clear. But he’d hoped she’d come around. “Or do you really not want to plan the wedding at all?”

She looked stricken, as if she was battling herself over telling the truth or not hurting his feelings. Since most people didn’t believe he had feelings, he was almost flattered.

“We have choices here, you know.” He tried to keep his voice calm. To not let on that he was hurt by her indecision. “We can tell your boss that our engagement is none of his or anyone else’s business.”

“You should have thought of that before you popped the question live on camera.” She almost laughed. Almost. “I can’t play the privacy card now.”

“We can go along with the idea. It could be fun.”

“Don’t you have something more important to focus on? Like baseball?”

“Look, I’m not going to leave it all up to you. I want to help.”

“Yeah. Lot of good that’s done me so far.” She covered her mouth an instant too late to keep from letting her true feelings show. “I’m sorry. I know you really are trying to make the best of things.”

“What do you want?”

She closed her eyes, as if she had something in mind, but it was hard for her to ask for it. Again, a side of her he hadn’t encountered in the bedroom.

“I know what I don’t want.” She spoke softly, almost as though she was afraid to tell him. “I don’t want to have viewers wonder why all the wedding dresses I try on have an Empire waist. I don’t want to spend a fortune on champagne I can’t even sip. And I don’t want to be as big as a house on my wedding day.”

He looked at her, took in the real despair on her face. But at least she hadn’t said she didn’t want to marry him at all.

“We could always elope.” He reached for her hand. “We could leave tonight. Reno’s just a few hours away.”

“You can’t be serious.” She stood there, her hand trembling in his.

“I think we’ve already determined I can be very serious.” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed her. “I want to marry you. I want to be there for you and the baby. I don’t need to make it a media circus or fancy party. I just want you.”

* * * *

Two hours later, they were heading east on Interstate 80. Rachel had fallen asleep before they even got to Fairfield. A good thing, really. A few days ago, Bryce had been feeling sorry for himself. He wasn’t hitting. His defense was crap. They were criticizing him on the radio and TV. Yeah, he’d had problems.

Like being a selfish son-of-a-bitch who couldn’t see past his giant ego.

Rachel getting pregnant was just the wakeup call he’d needed.

He hoped. No, he truly believed that his plan was a good one. His very public proposal and their quickie wedding would draw fans to Rachel’s side. And it wouldn’t hurt if it drew some of the pressure off him and the team. The season was young. No need to panic. Yet after winning it all last year, expectations were higher than ever. They needed a distraction. Perspective. Not every bad hop or missed ball was an indication that last year had been a fluke. A once-in-a-lifetime chance at something great.

If Rachel had been a onetime thing, that would have been a tragedy. His slow start? Well, that was baseball. If he put up half the numbers he’d had last year, he’d still be in elite company. He was a major league baseball player. The best in the world. And his contract was guaranteed for six years. He’d have to do something incredibly stupid to be let go. So unless he developed a gambling problem or committed a felony, he had a job. The pressure was mostly in his own head, and the sooner he got over himself, the sooner he’d start hitting again.

He glanced over at Rachel, snoring softly in the passenger seat of his Corvette. God, she was beautiful. The car was a joke. She was the true prize.

She’d agreed to marry him, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was only going along with the marriage to save her job. And maybe she believed that a baby should be brought into the world by parents who were married to each other.

He had no idea of her upbringing. Was she raised by strict, traditional parents? A single mom? Did she have siblings? Pets growing up? What was her favorite flavor of ice cream? He had no idea if she even ate ice cream. Maybe she was on one of those no-dairy, gluten-free diets. What if she was a vegetarian? No way was he going to give up eating meat. He was an athlete. He needed the protein, and he’d get it the way God intended, from a big, fat, juicy steak.

The fact that he knew very little about the woman he was about to make his wife should have concerned him. Yet it felt right.

Somehow he’d have to convince Rachel that they could do this. Oh he knew the odds were against them. But the odds against the Goliaths winning the World Series had been sixteen to one at the beginning of last September.