He’d done it—he’d stolen home.
Luke Archer had done more than that though. He’d stolen my heart too.
As the fans went wild, the Shock charged the field. Typically the support staff didn’t rush a field with the team, but there was nothing typical about what had just happened. Weaving into the mix, Reynolds cleared a path for me up the stairs so I didn’t get trampled. Once we hit the field, Reynolds grabbed me. I somehow ended up on his shoulders as he charged toward the swarm of bodies at home plate.
Luke had just been tossed up onto a couple of his teammates’ shoulders and was throwing his hands toward the stadium, only fueling the fans’ excitement. Somewhere in the midst of it all, he’d lost his batting helmet, so his damp hair was bouncing as the guys holding him leapt beneath him.
Reynolds and I were charging down the third base line when Luke’s head turned. A dozen emotions played on his face, a dozen more lighting up his eyes, but there was only one I felt when he looked at me like he was now—like I was the only person in this sold-out stadium. Like I was the only person in the whole world.
The stadium was roaring with noise, a flurry of scenes vying for attention, but I didn’t miss what he shouted as he lifted his arm and pointed in my direction. For you.
Reynolds’s impressive size made cutting through the crowd a reality I never could have managed on my own. He somehow managed to barrel right through the mess of players until Luke and I were within arm’s reach.
Luke was grinning at me like he’d just challenged the world to a duel and come out the victor. Holding out his hand for mine, when I placed it in his, he stabbed our combined hands into the air. The noise shaking the stadium grew louder as what felt like millions of lights blinking at us from the stands flashed all around us. It was a beautiful sight—the reaction of thousands of fans to Luke Archer stealing home plate to win the biggest game of any player’s life.
I’d never forget it.
But as I glanced back over at Luke, who was still staring at me, I knew the sight in front of me now was the most beautiful one I’d ever seen. The one I’d always remember. The way the man I loved was looking at me when everyone else was looking at him.
I didn’t just see a future when I looked at Luke—I saw the explanations of my past. The answers to the hurt. It had brought me to this very moment, molding me into the person I was today—the person Luke Archer loved.
His love was worth the price I’d paid in my past. His love was worth any price.
It was priceless.
“YOU KNOW WHAT seeing you in my jersey does to me,” Luke greeted as he kicked the front door closed, his arms loaded with grocery bags.
“I’m also in cutoffs and sneakers.” I fought a smile as I washed tomatoes for the burgers we were grilling tonight.
“So? All I see is my name on your back and it does things to me . . .” Dropping the bags on the counter, he swung around the island until he was behind me. His arms wound around my waist, his body pressing into mine—a certain part of it pressing into my backside. “And depending on your mood, it does very good or very bad things to me.”
The tomato dropped into the sink, my hand melting beneath his touch. I tried to fight it—the feeling of being utterly and totally under his spell—but I failed every time. Luke and I had been together for a while now, and after all of this time, he still touched me like it was our first and kissed me good night like it was our very last.
“This jersey that’s got you so worked up also has spit-up on it from earlier.” I tipped my head back to look up at him, tying my fingers through his hands. “Still all hot and bothered?”
His head nuzzled mine, his hips pinning me to the counter. “You have no idea how much of a turn on spit-up can be on the woman who gave me the most beautiful baby in the whole damn world.”
As I laughed, I checked the clock on the wall. The same wall Luke had hung the framed cover of the two of us on Sports Anonymous—thankfully, I’d talked him out of hanging it on every wall in the house. We had ten minutes until people were supposed to start arriving. I might have preferred a bigger window to enjoy my husband’s body, but I knew from experience we could make ten minutes work.
“If you can make it quick, you’re on.”
I hadn’t finished my sentence before he had me spun around, his fingers already working on my cutoffs. “You don’t steal home without being quick, Mrs. Archer. I think I can manage.”
My hand had his shirt just about over his head when we heard it. Luke and I shared a groan.
“Built-in radar, that one,” I said, pulling his shirt back over his head before heading toward the nursery.
“I’ve got her.” Luke grabbed my hand before I could get far. He dropped a kiss on my forehead before jogging down the hall.