To Win Her Love (36 page)

Gracie gasped and slapped her fingers over her mouth as Jake dropped his head back to look upward. She blinked when her image, twenty feet tall and slightly obscured through the suite’s glass, flashed on the screen. She dropped her gaze to the field and found him along the sideline. Though the distance was far, it seemed as if he stared straight at her.

“Did you hear that, Gracie?”

She shivered as she read his lips, even as his voice came through the speakers.

“I love you. I
love
you,” he repeated with heavy emphasis.

A ragged sob leaked through the fingers jammed to her lips.

“I’m sorry, baby. I was an ass.”

Fifty thousand fans broke into laughter mixed with applause. Tom winced at her side, but she grinned, despite the tears welling in her eyes. There went another twenty in the jar.

“Until I met a ballsy blonde and a couple of black-haired rugrats, I didn’t have a clue what family meant.”

Family. His family. Her heart slammed against her rib cage in a dizzying rhythm as the girls giggled behind her.

“Hell, I never even
believed
in the concept of family. You changed my heart and my mind and there’s no going back.”

Lightheaded, she dropped her hand to press her fingers to the glass. Mr. Irresistible smiled up at her and worked the crowd with his legendary charm. He lowered his voice to a sexy, Texas purr. “I need to ask you a question, Gracie. Right here, in front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses.”

Her heart lodged in her throat. Angel and Charlie scrambled from Max’s arms to rush to her side. Max and Mary joined them.

“You ready, princess?” Not a hint of humor showed on his face.

Was she
ready
? She slapped her free hand to the top of her head. Surprise, wonder, and fear competed for top billing in her galloping heart. Holy crap, if his question was the one she hoped for…. She nodded frantically. The stadium simmered with expectant murmuring.

His face split on a wide grin. “Okay.” He glanced around as if he wasn’t sure where he was then choked on a startled laugh. His gaze returned to caress hers. “Okay, but you have to come down here as soon as I’m finished. I have a feeling I’m going to need to kiss you.” He shifted the helmet to his other arm. “And bring the twins with you. I want my whole family present when you say, yes, Jake. I’ll marry you.”

His whole family
. A sob escaped and she covered her quivering mouth with the back of her hand.
Marry him?
A tear plopped onto her wrist.

Tom squeezed her closer. “Do you love him, Gracie?”

Max barked a scoffing laugh.

She flicked him a watery glare before turning back to Tom. “More than I ever thought possible.”

Her father grinned. “Since the day I met him, Jake’s been like a son to me. If you say yes, he’ll be my son in truth. What do you say?”

Speaking was impossible with her throat closed. She nodded instead.

“It’s about damn time!” Max grouched, but his lips curved up in a smug smile.

“Language!” Mary and the twins spoke together then laughed.

Tom grinned, hugged her close, and leaned toward the glass to give Jake a thumbs-up. Jake whooped on the sideline and the crowd in the stands went wild. The stadium pulsed beneath the thunderous celebration.

“Then what are you waiting for? Get on down here, darlin’!” Jake’s laughing command echoed through the stadium. The girls shrieked and danced from foot to foot. Gracie broke into a weepy grin and gathered them close. Hand in hand, they raced out of the skybox. Tom, Max, and Mary squeezed into the elevator with them.

Security awaited them when the doors opened a minute later. Laughing and crying, Gracie raced through the tunnel and into the cavernous stadium. Bigger than life, sweaty and jubilant, Jake awaited her several yards away.

“Yes!” She skidded to a stop before him, the girls on each side.

He grinned and opened his arms.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

The girls let go to latch onto his legs and Gracie leapt into his arms and into her future with her family surrounding her.

THE END

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 a seven-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
https://twitter.com/MacCrowne

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31681

Keep reading for a sneak peek of Book One in Kristina Mathews’ More Than A Game series.

Life beyond the game…

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 kept secret for too long from her son and Johnny. She can’t be sure how things will turn out, but she’s not leaving until she swings for the fences…

A Lyrical e-book on sale now!

Learn more about Kristina at
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/30540

Visit us at
www.kensingtonbooks.com

“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 him 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.

“He’s a god.” He flashed a grin indicating he was more than willing to play her game. “Me? I’m a mere mortal.” Bryce leaned toward her, clearly enjoying the interaction.

“You’re new, too.” She scooted over to his side of the table, dismissing Johnny’s rejection as strike one. She must think she had a better chance of scoring with Bryce.

“I am. I think I left my heart somewhere in the city. Could you help me find it?” He slid one of his photos across the table to her.

“I can help you find whatever you’re looking for.” She took the pen from him and wrote something on the inside of his forearm. Her number, most likely.

Bryce grinned as if he enjoyed having a stranger tattoo him with a permanent marker.

“Bring your friend, too. If he’s up for a challenge.”

“I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart.” Bryce tipped his cap and winked at the woman.

Johnny exhaled, realizing he’d been holding his breath during the entire conversation.

“Thanks man, I owe you one.” Johnny shook his head, as relieved as if Bryce had just snagged a line drive with two outs and the bases loaded.

“So it really isn’t an act.” Baxter eyed him carefully. “You really do walk the walk.”

“What walk?”

“The celibacy thing. It’s for real.” A lot of guys thought he was full of it. That it was just for show. A way to get attention, and women. But once they realized he was genuine, most of the other players accepted him. Some even respected him. “You really don’t mess around.”

“No. I don’t. I’m not perfect, but I try to stay out of trouble.” Johnny removed his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. Since they were both new to the team, their booth wasn’t as crowded as some of the others. They had a chance to catch their breath. He was able to finally sit back and enjoy the perfect weather. It was one of those glorious Northern California days when the sun came out to tease, dropping hints of spring and the fever that came with it.

“You looked like you were a little uncomfortable there.” Bryce, on the other hand, seemed to relish the attention.

“I know it’s part of the job, but it’s not the part I’m good at.”

“You let your game speak for itself. That’s cool.” Bryce reclined in his chair, looking as relaxed as if he was sitting in his own back yard. “Some of us have to use our charm to make up for lack of talent.”

Johnny laughed. Baxter had plenty of talent. And more than enough charm to go around.

“She was pretty fine, though.” Bryce continued to check her out as she walked away, collecting ballplayer’s numbers like kids collected baseball cards. “Exactly what I need to get me in shape for spring training.”

“Is that so?” Johnny managed to avoid the whole groupie scene. His entire career had been about control, both on and off the field. The Monk kept his cool. The Monk never got rattled. And The Monk maintained a spotless reputation. He had to, considering where he’d come from.

“There he is. Come on, Mom.” A kid, about twelve or thirteen, rushed up to the booth, practically dragging his mother by the arm.