Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,84

the press release and my thoughts to Charlie. He’s releasing them tomorrow. I’m retiring.”

The woman I love looks like I’ve just told her that UFOs are real, and I’m their alien leader. “Hayes, I … I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t looking for your question, then.” I smirk, bumping my nose against hers. “This is my decision. I choose you, babe. I choose us.”

She breathes something between a relieved sigh and a pained groan. “Hayes, you love baseball. It’s such a big part of your life, you can’t walk away—”

“I’m not walking away from baseball. Hell, my girlfriend owns a team, I’m pretty sure I could find a coaching position if I want one. Or be one of those old guys who cashes in on his fame and does commercials for copper back wraps. I’m not walking away from anything. I’m walking toward you, which is a hell of a lot more exciting and fulfilling than any game I’ve ever played.”

Big brown eyes blink at me, and tears cloud them. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it …”

Then I do something I’ve been waiting to do for what seems like an eternity. I kiss her for the world to see, right there in the middle of the celebration. That action, this expression of love, feels better than any ring I’ve ever won.

I’m not giving up my career, I’m not settling for anything. Hell, I’m going out with a World Series ring on my finger.

No, I’m trading one happiness for another. Being able to show the whole world how much I love this woman, spending each day out in the open with her, that’s what I want for the next step in my life.

I’ll go down swinging with her, come what may. And I may be getting a World Series ring from this, but I have plans to very soon put a ring of my own on her left hand.

I smirk as I kiss her again, knowing full well the kind of celebrations we have to come.

Epilogue

Hayes

Three Years Later

A cool fall breeze ruffles through my hair as the orange and red leaves flutter on their branches above our heads.

Colleen and I walk hand in hand through the park, one we often frequent because it’s just around the corner from the four-bedroom colonial we bought. The house is a bit of a fixer-upper, but with all the time on my hands, I promised her I’d fix it up just the way she wants. Plus, we’re not much for the McMansions on the outskirts of town. So far, I’ve tackled the kitchen, master bath, and wrap-around porch by myself, and I have to say my handiwork is pretty damn good. Sports Illustrated even called and asked if they could do a feature on my DIY career after retirement.

Re-gripping her left hand so that I can hold it better, I feel the brush of her diamond against the skin of my fingers. Every time that happens, my heart gives a little tug. I still can’t believe this woman is my wife, that out of the drama and scandal our relationship started with, we made it down the aisle.

As I study her side profile, my stomach drops in the exact same way it did all those years ago, when I saw her for the first time. She’s every bit as gorgeous, as elegant, but there is a confidence in her now that just does it for me. With a couple more years’ experience under her belt as general manager of the Pistons, she’s grown into an even more dominant professional powerhouse. The team is headed for the playoffs for the fourth year in a row, much in part to Colleen.

Right now, however, she looks like she might throw up or run back to the car.

“Remember, this is just a meet and greet. No pressure, we just talk to some of the children. This is as much an interview for us as it is for them. You don’t have to be nervous, babe.”

I try to give Colleen a reassuring smile, but I’m walking on eggshells myself. I’ve been on the other side of this, these picnics in the park that the social workers make seem like they’re supposed to be fun. When really, it’s a buffet for foster and adoptive parents to select the most prized pig. Or at least that’s how I saw it back then.

Before we got married six months ago, the woman I love admitted to me