Page 115 of Force Play

“Were we ever not doing it?” I ask, dragging her to the edge of the bed so I’m wedged between her legs and my arms are around her hips.

“We’re doing it out loud, and for real?”

“Just like I told you in the courthouse earlier this week, you’re the only one I want for the rest of my life. I’ve known since last year that this is what I wanted. It didn’t quite happen the way that I expected. Loving you out in the open is the only way I want to do this from now on.”

“Good, because it was never about the insurance for me either. You make me feel things no one else ever has, and I can’t imagine getting through these last few months without you. You’re infuriating and crazy. But you love me better than anyone else ever has, and I don’t want to hide that because of how it happened. Quick or not, what we have is real and perfect.”

“Do you think it’s time we come clean with your dad?”

“Yeah. He deserves the truth and more importantly I want him to know.”

We call her dad together, she tries so damn hard to keep it together, but when her dad’s voice starts shaking as he asks questions about her plans for surgery, my girl falls apart.

“Come with me,” I say, standing from the floor and holding my hand out for her. When she places it palm down in mine, I lead her to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and my grooming kit. I strip my shirt over my head and place the towel over my shoulders, unzipping the black bag and handing her the scissors. “I think it’s time for a fresh start.”

“You’re kidding right, I’m not cutting your hair.” Her fingers ruffle the long strands. “Besides, I kind of like it this way.”

Twisting, I grab the clippers and add a guard. “In that case, just clean up the sides, wife.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “If it sucks, don’t come for me.”

“I’ll always come for you.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her in the mirror as she turns on the razor.

She chuckles. “Like I said, infuriating. Just remember who’s got the power right now.” Her lips tilt up in a mischievous smile while the electronic buzz grows louder as she presses it to the base of my neck, sweeping before rocking it away.

The next morning when I wake up, there’s a text from my mom letting us know they’ll be over at ten with breakfast. I already know they will be supportive, but I can’t say the same for the league official who I’m supposed to call in a few minutes.

Following the game last night, Wilson sat me down and asked for my side of the story. The league will issue a ruling on what, if any, disciplinary actions I’ll face. Compared to bench clearing brawls, what happened last night is pretty cut and dry.

Leaving a sleeping Indie in bed, I sneak down the stairs into my office, each step emphasizing the strain on the right side of my body from the collision last night. Whatever the outcome of this meeting, I’ll deal with it. After what Indie shared last night about her interactions with Jensen and how it affected her, I just want this to be over. Dragging it out will only hurt her more, the last thing she needs is more stress.

“Hey, Dom,” Jillian, the representative for the player disciplinary board, says when the call goes through.

“How’s it going this morning, Jillian?”

“I expect my morning is going better than yours.”

“Actually, I don’t have any complaints. I woke up beside my beautiful wife and we are having breakfast with my parents soon.” My agent would probably slap me upside the head, but it’s the truth. Jensen’s a douche and misogynistic prick. He deserved much more than what I gave him.

“I heard from your coach that you were recently married when we talked this morning. Congratulations. He also told me he didn’t believe you should be suspended based on your actions and the events that triggered it.”

That surprises me, Wilson’s a man of few words and reading him isn’t always easy. That he went to bat for me, or really for Indie, makes the respect I already have for him grow.

“If you expect me to tell you I’m remorseful, you’ll be disappointed.”

“Honestly, after hearing from Wilson, Xavier Kingsley, and Tom Kellerman, I didn’t expect you to. I knew Wilson and Kingsley would have your back, but Kellerman’s statement backs up what the other two said. Jensen was baiting you the entire time at bat. He was actually apologetic that, as the home plate umpire, he didn’t step in sooner.”

“He had no way to know that it was more than just one player chirping to get under another’s skin at the time,” I say.

“Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

And I do, from the moment he put his hands on Indie in the hallway until I was dragged off the field.

“I appreciate your time today and your professionalism. Not everyone is as understanding during these discussions. We should have a decision later today or tomorrow,” Jillian explains. “That being said, you should prepare yourself to fly with the team when they leave for the League Division Series in Atlanta.”

One obstacle out of the way, some of the tension I’ve been carrying since last night lifts, making my shoulders ease away from my ears.

“I hate decaf,” Indie whines to Ronnie as she pours herself a cup of coffee. She still hasn’t heard me approaching and continues talking to the dog, her tone softening. “But if it means your dad and I can give you siblings in a few years, it’s worth it.”

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