The Practice Proposal (16 page)

He smoothed his fingers down her cheek and over her lips, briefly dipping the last
one into her mouth. She nipped at it, and her insides fluttered. She was so ready
to experience all of him.

“If I’d have known this was waiting for me,” he said, “I would’ve made sure we won
it a lot sooner. Pretty sweet win for the Orioles, too.”

“Come see what we’ve got.” She took his hand, led him inside, and into the kitchen.
“I bought champagne.” She opened the fridge and showed him the bottle. “We can drink
it now.” She skimmed her fingers down his shirt—his abs so ripped she could feel each
one through the fabric—and traced them around the button of his jeans. “Or later.”

He quickly closed the refrigerator door. “Hmm…” He clutched her waist, lifted her
onto the island, and stepped between her knees. “Is there something else you’d rather
do now?”

Liza had never seen his eyes that sultry shade or been as captivated by that blue
scent. She clutched the back of his neck, kissing him again, warmth pulsing inside
her and settling low. She knew well enough where this was leading, and now she was
more than willing to go there with him.

“You seemed to like the view from the balcony,” she said.

“Beautiful.” He nodded, slowly blazing a trail of heat as he traced his fingers down
her neck to the top button of her blouse.

“The view from my bedroom is pretty nice, too.”

His perfect lips quirked up at one corner. Liza couldn’t wait to have them on her…everywhere.
She slid off the island and onto her feet, took his hand, and led him to her bedroom.
The curtains were opened to the floor-to-ceiling, picture-window view of the harbor,
and moonlight illuminated the room. Mesmerized again by the view, Cole stepped over
to the window and stared out while she lit candles, making the atmosphere perfect.

Liza joined Cole and took his hand. She raised it and kissed the tender inside of
his wrist, then pressed his palm over her swiftly beating heart.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Very.” She stood on tiptoes and lightly pressed her lips to his. “But I bet you can
make me forget that.”

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her tenderly, easing her inhibitions with each
wisp of his tongue.

“Let’s leave the curtains open.” He swept his fingers beneath her chin, urging her
to meet his eyes. “So I can see you in the moonlight.”

Liza trembled a little, anxious and excited and amazed that she was in this moment
with Cole. She imagined what he would look like, too, with his sculpted All-Star body
bathed in moonlight.

He cupped her face in his hands, and sensuously smoothed them down to the vee of her
blouse. With skilled fingers, he opened the first button, then the second, following
with a trail of kisses as he went. The heat of pent-up desire swirled through Liza.
She arched herself against him, his name escaping her lips on a sigh.

He peeled her blouse away and held her at arm’s length, drinking in the sight of her
in her lacy lavender bra. The passion in his eyes melted away her self-consciousness.
She tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Take this off for me.”

He obliged, enticingly revealing each ripped ab and well-developed pec as he pulled
his shirt over his head. His tousled hair gleamed in the candlelight.

Sweet Lord…

Cole glanced at the bed behind her, flexing as he tossed his shirt aside. He raised
one eyebrow. “A king-size bed?”

Liza remembered all the nights it had felt so empty. She looked at him demurely. “I
know, right? It’s way too big for one person.”

“But it looks just right for two.” Cole swept her off of her feet, as if she were
featherlight. He cradled her against his chest and walked over to the bed, kissing
her with abandon. Liza quivered, responding to his intensity—the hardness of his body,
the tenderness of his touch. She hadn’t known how much she missed this, or how desperately
she wanted Cole.

“Mmm,” she murmured as he lowered her onto the bed. “I forgot how good this feels.”

Cole sensuously smoothed his thumb across her bottom lip. “There’s nothing I’d rather
do than help you remember.”

Chapter Eighteen

Cole had figured he would always be single, because he never dreamed he would find
a girl like Liza. She was settled, but sassy and sexy and sometimes complicated. And
she came with parents like John and Sylvia, who’d accepted him again as if nothing
had ever come between them.

He’d seen them several times since the night Frank had revealed he was Cole’s father,
and they’d even made it to one of his league championship games. They’d picked up
right where they’d left off years ago, making Cole feel like one of their own. Only
now things were even better, with Liza at the center of it all. Poor Wes had really
missed out, and given Cole the gift of a lifetime.

One Sunday, when they were all in town, Liza took him to the Sutherland family breakfast.
Sylvia whipped up some mean French toast with crispy bacon. Cole gobbled it down,
thinking how different things were since he’d ordered that Walk of Shame burrito at
breakfast with Frank at Ted’s Bulletin.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked breakfast.” Cole rubbed his stomach.
“Much less one so delicious.” He smiled at Sylvia. “I forgot what a good cook you
are.” He grinned at Liza. “It’s a shame that Liza can barely boil water.”

She rolled her eyes, still managing to look beautiful. “I have other skills.”

Yes, you do.

After breakfast, he and John went out on the back porch and kicked back in a couple
of rocking chairs with their coffee. The trees in the wooded, rolling hills of their
property were tinged with orange, yellow, and red, and the sky was electric blue.

It said a lot for his and John’s healing relationship that they could sit without
talking and be comfortable. Cole was thankful for that. Maybe one day he’d get there
with Frank, too.

“I want you to know,” John said after a while, “that none of what happened is on your
shoulders. Sylvia and I should’ve done things differently, but it’s easy to say that
in hindsight.”
Cole nodded. “I’m starting to understand.” And he was, at least enough to say it truthfully.
“All these years, I was angry because I figured you changed your mind and didn’t want
me to play for the Orioles.”

John reached over, clutched his forearm, and looked at him ruefully. “I wanted you
to play for me then, and I’ve wanted you every day since.”

Pressure built in Cole’s throat. He never thought he’d hear those words from John.
“I appreciate that.”

“Sylvia and I are proud of what you’ve accomplished, even though we’ve missed so much.”

Liza had helped him see how John and Sylvia had suffered, too. They’d wanted Cole
in their lives, but they’d also wanted him to finally have a father. Frank had made
it clear that he didn’t want them around, and the last thing they could bring themselves
to do was come between him and his father. They’d been hurt, too. “I admit that I
didn’t understand…before,” Cole said. Over the years, he’d imagined saying lots of
things to John, but none of them had been very sportsmanlike. The truth had taken
the edge off his temper, and Liza had softened it even more.

“We didn’t either, son.”

And there it was again.
Son.
After an entire life without a father, Cole had two men who called him that now, even
if it was a figure of speech. He liked to think there was more to it than that.

“Liza seems happy,” John said. “We’ve been so worried about her since Wes died.” He
furrowed his brow. “What a shock that was, to lose him…and her too, really, for a
time. It’s nice to see that sparkle back in her eyes.”

Cole wondered if John saw the same sparkle in his, but it sounded too girlie to ask.

A flock of birds came into view, flying south. Cole was fascinated by their formation—how
they kept adjusting into an almost-perfect vee.

Maybe his life was starting to line up like that, too.

“To the National League Champion Nationals.” Liza toasted Cole with her longneck beer,
amazed at how much she’d changed since their stilted first toast on their auction
date.

“And to the American League Champion Orioles.”

They’d had an easy time giving each other props at this stage, but it would get a
lot harder when their teams faced each other in the World Series. There had been plenty
of celebrations, but this one was just for the two of them. It had been days since
they’d been able to steal some time together, much less nighttime. Cole had made the
arrangements and texted her earlier today.

Let’s go back to the storybook farm…

How could three little dots be so exciting? She couldn’t wait to get back to the farm,
and this time they’d be all alone.

She and Cole had headed straight to the pond, where the logs and kindling had already
been laid for a fire.

“Some pretty decent friends Mack’s got,” Liza said as they spread out their blankets
on the ground. The Adirondack chairs were still there—with their curly-W cushions—but
she and Cole could get a lot closer on the blankets, sitting with their backs propped
against a couple hay bales.

The end-of-October nights were chilly and crisp, and this one was especially starry.

“You nervous?” Liza asked, snuggling close to him.

“About the Series?”

“Unless there’s something else to be nervous about,” she teased.

“Are
you
?”

“Sure. My loyalties are split. I want it for you because you and the guys have worked
so hard.” She kissed him lightly and was tempted to linger, but she’d never finish
what she wanted to say if she did. “And I want it for the Os, and for me and my parents.
They’ve got so much of themselves invested in the team.”

He frowned like a little kid, and she imagined him as a four-year-old, begging to
stay up past his bedtime. “But the Nats have never won one.”

She scrubbed her hand through his hair. “Now who’s looking for the sympathy vote?”

The fire sizzled and popped, the flames dancing as if Jason Aldean were singing in
the embers.

“You must be nervous, too,” she said.

“Without a doubt.” He shook his head. “Man, there were times I wondered if I’d ever
get out of the minors.” He sipped his beer, seeming amazed at how far he’d come. “Then,
when I was finally called up and stayed, I wondered if the Nats would ever be a winning
team. But somehow we got it together—like voodoo baseball magic or something—and here
we are…headed for the World Series. Now that I have you, and things are squared away
with your folks and Frank, my confidence is at a whole new level.”

She smirked, trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“Did you just say voodoo baseball magic?”

His eyes sparkled in the firelight. “Yep.”

She traced her finger from his earlobe, across his stubbly jawline and under his chin.
“You believe in that?”

“Sure. There’s always that elusive something that makes things click like they never
have before. Maybe for you, it’s fairy dust.” He winked.

Liza rolled her eyes. “I wish I’d had buckets of fairy dust to sprinkle around over
the years. Don’t you?”

“I’d have probably used it to make a few changes. But looking back, I can see how
most things happened for a reason, and I wouldn’t have learned much by making it easier
on myself. It sure sucked at the time, but I needed to play in the minor league—to
get better…” He gave her an I’m-embarrassed-to-admit-this grin. “And to get my ego
under control.”

She gasped playfully. “You had an ego problem?”

He lowered his eyebrows. “Come on, it’s been downsized.” And there was that stomach-flipping
grin again. “A little.”

Liza kissed him, his sandpapery stubble tickling her lips. “I think you’ve managed
to get it just right.”

Just right.
The words resonated in Liza’s mind, but they were no longer attached to Wes alone.
Things were definitely feeling just right with Cole now.

He tugged her into his lap, wrapped the blanket around them, and held her close. There
was no place she would rather be right now, and no one else she would rather be with.
Liza no longer cared about Frank’s donation—she’d find other donors the honest way.
The only thing that mattered was being with Cole.

“Good or bad, everything that’s happened has gotten me to where I am right now.” His
voice was deep and husky. “Here with the woman I love.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then took off racing. Cole loved her? He’d sounded confident
and sure of it, giving her the certainty she needed. She wanted to tell him, too—right
now—but he leaned in and gently kissed her. “So given the chance…” He rested his forehead
against hers. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Liza swallowed against a rush of emotion. She had never expected to find love again,
especially not with Cole. But here she was—finally all in—and eager to prove it to
him. Her insides swirled with the heat and energy of the fire. She shifted herself
off his lap and lay down, urging him to join her.

He tucked an extra blanket beneath her head and stretched out next to her, propped
up on his elbow. She combed her fingers through his hair and kissed him once quickly.
“I,” she whispered and gave him a longer kiss. “Love,” she said breathlessly. Passion
built in their kiss, and she could barely get out the last words. “You, too.”

Under a blanket of fleece and a sky full of stars, she showed him how much.

Chapter Nineteen

Cole thought he’d experienced every kind of baseball stress—with injuries and trade
worries and performance anxiety. But none of those compared to the pressure he and
the Nats had put on themselves going into the World Series.

Fortunately, the National League had won this year’s All-Star game, giving the Nationals
home-field advantage in the first game. The Nats had taken that one, then dropped
the second to the Orioles. This Series was a big-time version of the long-standing
“Battle of the Beltway” rivalry between the two teams, so the Nats had headed up I-95
to Baltimore for games three, four and five. Cole had hoped the Nats wouldn’t need
that many games to take the Series, but the Os weren’t going down easy, and they’d
led the Series three-two. He had to give John’s team a lot of credit, but the Nats’
sole focus right now was to crush them.

Back home at Nationals Park, the Nats had tied things up with an unexpected shutout,
so tonight’s game was it. Expectations were high, and so was tension. Cole had never
been so excited and nervous at the same time. His heart was locked in overdrive, all
his systems running full out.

Two of the biggest moments in his life could happen tonight.

He’d had little time to spend with Liza, and he’d longed to have her with him. She
was a little stressed too, with her loyalties divided between teams. He understood,
and hated that he was helpless to fix it. But tonight, one team would win and the
other would lose. They would deal with that and move forward together, just as they’d
dealt with everything else.

Both teams came out swinging, but the pitchers were on fire and the game went scoreless
through five innings. In the bottom of the sixth, the Nats’ leadoff man hit a single.
Batting next, Cole took the lefty pitcher deep into the count, and managed to tattoo
a triple into the right-field corner. The crowd went crazy and the leadoff runner
scored. Cole took third standing, his heart beating faster than the heater he’d just
hit. The Nats had a heck of a record of winning when they scored first, and that RBI
had just put them on the board in the final game of the World Series. But one run
was no insurance against any team, much less the Orioles. The Nats needed to score
a few more, lots if they could.

The following two batters struck out—one looking, one swinging. With two outs, Cole’s
scoring opportunities looked a little bleaker, but he always had hope when it came
to the Nats. The next batter reached first by chopping one to the shortstop and beating
the throw, but the play stranded Cole at third. He’d never been so amped, knowing
what was at stake, and knowing that the seventh-inning stretch was staring him in
the face after this inning. He couldn’t undo what he had planned—and he didn’t want
to—but he couldn’t recall ever experiencing such a sustained adrenaline rush.

His right-handed buddy came up to bat, and Cole watched carefully as he took a ball
and a strike from the slow-windup pitcher. Before the next toss, Cole got a decent
lead. Distracted by the runner at first, the pitcher made his move to pick him off.
Before the ball left his hand, Cole put his head down and tore toward home. He knew
there’d be a play at the plate, and he knew it would be close.

As if in slow motion, Cole hit the ground, sliding headfirst at the bag as the ball
streaked toward the catcher. The throw curved offline and the catcher shifted away
from the plate to make the grab.

“Safe!” the umpire yelled, dramatically crossing and uncrossing his hands.

The crowd went ballistic, and shouts of “Crush, Crush, Crush” echoed through the stadium.

Cole jumped to his feet. He kissed his index finger, raised it high in a number-one
sign and pointed straight to Liza.

He’d stolen home for her.

She cheered, even though Cole’s run had just put the Nats up 2-0. The guys in the
dugout were on their feet, too, and they met him with back-slaps, low-fives, and fist
bumps for making the hardest play in baseball in the final game of the World Series.

A fly ball to center field ended the sixth, and they were into the seventh-inning
stretch. But this seventh-inning stretch was different from any of his career. Cole
dashed to his locker in the clubhouse, opened the safe, and took out the box of Cracker
Jack he’d put there before the game. He headed up through the tunnel and out toward
home plate, amid questioning glances from his teammates gathered in the dugout.

The seventh-inning stretch at Nats Park always started with the crowd singing “Take
Me Out to the Ball Game.” But tonight’s version was going to be a little different.

Cole stood at the plate that he’d slid into just minutes ago, hoping to make an even
bigger play.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice boomed. “Please direct your attention
to home plate and the scoreboard screen for Nationals All-Star first baseman Cole
Collins.”

The crowd cheered and booed, depending on which team they were rooting for, but that
was just background noise to Cole. All he could hear was his pulse pounding in his
ears. A sound guy scrambled around behind him. He took a deep breath as the announcer
continued.

“Joining Cole is Miss Liza Sutherland.”

John escorted Liza to the plate. She looked blindsided but beautiful, with the night
breeze catching her hair and color rising in her face.

The crowd clapped and whistled, then became surprisingly quiet.

John nodded at Cole, smiling, and stepped away. Cole took Liza’s hand and gripped
tightly to keep his own from shaking.

“Tonight’s lyrics for ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’ have been revised for this special
occasion and can be found up on the scoreboard,” the announcer said. “Ladies and gentlemen,
please sing along.”

The organist played a few chords, and the crowd broke into song along with Cole, who
was thankful everyone else drowned him out. What a time to debut his lack of singing
talent to Liza.

Here we are at the big game,

Right in front of the crowd.

I bought you a ring and some Cracker Jack,

We’ve come so far we can never look back.

So I’ve got a question to ask you,

If you say no it’s a shame.

Liza, will you…marry…me…please!

We’ll play life’s…ball…game.

The crowd roared as Cole got down on one knee, then became mostly quiet with a random
whistle here and there.

“Liza,” he said. Her name reverberated through the stadium, and he wondered how the
hell he was going to get through this. It seemed like a good idea before his voice
was amplified for over forty thousand people to hear, and all eyes were on him for
a reason other than baseball. Shouldn’t he have done this at the farm? He’d thought
of that but decided against it. He wanted Liza to know that this was forty-thousand-witnesses
serious to him.

“I guess that was pretty cheesy,” he said.

The crowd laughed and cheered.

“We’ve kinda been through this before, but that was just for practice.” He winked
at Liza and sucked in a deep breath. His heart thudded so loudly he figured the mic
was probably picking up the noise. “But this time it’s for real.” Cole pulled the
ring from the Cracker Jack box and it sparkled under the stadium lights. “I love you,
Liza. Will you marry me?”

The crowd became way too quiet as Cole stared into Liza’s eyes, waiting.

She gave him the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen and said, “Yes.”

The crowd went wild as Cole slipped the ring on Liza’s trembling finger. He got to
his feet, took her in his arms, and kissed her.

While he’d been working at stealing home, she had quietly stolen his heart.

…

If it were possible to burst from excitement, Liza figured it was about to happen
to her. She couldn’t believe
she
was the larger-than-life girl up on the scoreboard who’d just gotten engaged to Cole.
Engaged to Cole! In front of all these people!

She hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Despite what had happened to Wes, and her fear that
something similar could happen again, she’d instantly agreed to take a risk with Cole.
She had no doubt that her heart belonged to him.

The crowd still cheered as Cole—looking wicked baseball-sexy in his uniform and cleats—led
her over to the Nats’ dugout, her legs a little wobbly. His teammates rushed them,
huddling around and showering them with buckets of bubble gum. Liza finally knew firsthand
how exhilarating it was to be in the middle of one of their celebrations. This one
was hers, too.

As the guys headed back to the dugout, she said to Cole, “You’ve amazed me twice tonight.”

He drew his head back and grinned. “Just twice?”

She laughed, her smile lingering. “You stole home.”

“Just for you.”

She cocked her head. “And a little bit for the Nats?” She smoothed her fingers down
his muscular arm and squeezed his hand. “I’m willing to share you, just this once.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Oh, you are?”

The teams headed out onto the field, and Liza had to let him go. She gestured for
him to lean down and she cupped her hand around his ear to make sure he’d hear her.
“I hope you win.”

Cole stood straight and kissed her lightly amid more cheers from the crowd. His lopsided
grin melted her heart. “I already did.”

…

Cole was so amped that his proposal had been a hit with Liza and she’d agreed to marry
him. She was going to be his
wife
! He used to think of that word as strictly four-letter. Now he couldn’t wait for
Liza to become officially his.

But there was a World Series at stake, and he was ready to make it two-for-two and
lead the Nats to victory. But the Orioles didn’t make it easy. They answered with
two runs in the top of the eighth, and the Nats went scoreless in the bottom. Cole
hadn’t envisioned going into the ninth tied 2-2, but here they were. He kept taking
deep breaths to settle his nerves, and his teeth were sore from chewing so hard on
his bubble gum.

The Orioles went two-up, two-down in the top of the ninth, but their third batter
took advantage of a mistake by the closing pitcher and slammed one into the center-field
stands, giving the Os a 3-2 lead. The next batter popped the ball to the shortstop
and the inning was over.

Cole hadn’t lost hope, because he had faith in his team. He was batting fourth this
inning, so hopefully he’d get a chance to score. All they needed was one to tie, two
to win.

The Nats’ first two batters struck out swinging. After two nerve-racking close-call
strikes, the second batter tagged a blooper for a single, giving the Nats a lifeline.
With the tying run on base, Cole came to bat, adrenaline pumping.

World Series on the line… Team counting on me…

A wicked curveball fooled him and he fanned it.

The crowd was on their feet chanting, “Crush, Crush, Crush.”

But the umpire called another close strike that Cole would swear was low in the zone.

One more strike.

Cole took his stance. He and the pitcher stared each other down, the noise in the
stadium deafening. First the windup, then the pitch.

The second the fastball was released, he knew the pitcher had made a mistake. It torpedoed
over the center of the plate, in the middle of the zone, and Cole scorched it off
the screws. As soon as it left his bat, bedlam erupted in the stadium, and Cole knew
the Nats had won.