chapter 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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