MVP

by Laramie Briscoe

  Slade rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “They had a fuckin’ fan vote for the home team, needless to say Jax could run for President in a few years and win.”

  I’m laughing at the two of them when my phone vibrates in my hand. Flipping it over, I see a message from Ruby.

  R: Hey, we’re almost to the lot!

  M: Be right there!

  “They’re here, I’m gonna go grab them. If people see you on the street, it may start an autograph session you aren’t prepared for.” I drop my bag on the hood of my SUV and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Hurry back,” he says as his big hand makes contact with my ass as I walk away.

  “Ouch.” I jump, throwing a glare over my shoulder.

  His eyes are twinkling, as he tilts his head. “Really?”

  “Behave, Savage.” My face burns bright after his exaggerated really.

  There’s a wolfish look in his eyes, a bad boy grin on his face. “Never, sweetness, never.”

  I’m shaking my head as I make my way over to the sidewalk, and wave at the security guard working today. “Hey, Mrs. Harlow. You doin’ good today?”

  “It’s a great day to be at the ballpark, how about you?” Even though it’s hot, the night is clear, there’s a slight breeze, and it feels like the quintessential summer evening.

  “Woke up today, can’t complain.”

  I think about what he’s just said, and I realize he’s got the right idea. “No we can’t, can we?”

  “Malone!” I hear the voice coming up the sidewalk and recognize it as our friends.

  “Hey Ruby.” I wave to show I hear them and see them.

  We greet each other with hugs, and we’re all talking as we make our way through the lot. “You excited, Kels?” I ask Caleb’s little sister. She’s wearing a shirt similar to mine, and I can’t help but give her a high-five.

  “So excited you know he’s going to win, right?” She’s chomping on a piece of gum, and I notice how much older she looks than the last time we saw them a few months ago. She’s growing up fast, and Caleb, along with his dad, will have his hands full very soon.

  “No doubt about it.”

  More than anything, I believe that this is Slade’s year, in everything. Not just the Home Run Derby, not just the season, and not just our marriage. This year is the year everyone realizes what an amazing man and ambassador for the sport he is.

  Slade breaks ranks with our other group of friends, jogging over. “My man.” He grabs Caleb’s hand and they do that manly half-hug thing that I’ll never understand. “Lookin’ good, Harrison.”

  “You too, marriage seems to be agreeing with both of us.”

  Those words coming out of one of his friend’s mouth is the best compliment anyone could have ever given me.

  “Hey Kels, I like the shirt.” He gives her a wink. “You wanna come out on the field with me?”

  Immediately she looks like a deer caught in headlights as she glances up at Ruby.

  “You can if you want to,” she encourages her sister-in-law.

  Kelsea shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

  I laugh, because I’m pretty sure I’d be the same way if someone offered to take me down on the field too. Especially when there isn’t a huge amount of people down there like on the Fourth of July so that I can hide in the crowd.

  “Was this your scheduled day off?” Slade asks Caleb, a police officer in a town to the north of us. He works different shifts, and most of the time he’s on call. I’m actually surprised he’s been able to make it here tonight.

  “Nah, I switched with Dad. You know how pissed he is that he isn’t here?”

  Slade throws his head back, chuckling deeply. “Your pops? Probably pretty pissed. I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

  “He said next tickets you have, they better be his.”

  “I’ll make that happen, as soon as possible. Can’t have Mason pissed at me. I might need a favor one day that you don’t have enough clout to get me.”

  “Screw you, I’m moving on up in the MTF. I just took some K-9 training, and we’ll be getting our first dog soon,” Caleb reveals. “Some of the Birmingham K-9 Units are coming to train us. It’ll open up so many different options for us. We’re damn excited.”

  “Really? That sounds pretty damn cool. Can I come wear the bite suit?”

  “Oh yes,” Caleb agrees, with an over exaggerated nod of his head. “Please do, I can’t wait to see that.”

  “We gotta go, Savage,” Jax yells, breaking up the little get together between us.

  He waves back to them, letting them know he’s heard and he’ll be following along in a few minutes. “See y’all out there, be sure and cheer extra loud for me.”

  “Boo extra loud?” Caleb gives him shit. “Got it.”

  “Hit me at least ten, Savage,” I yell after him as he walks away, putting some extra swagger in his strut.

  “You got it, sweetness!”

  “This is more nerve-racking than a game,” I tell Felicity as we sit in the stands, getting prepared to watch the Home Run Derby.

  “Right? Like my heart is beating out of my chest and I’m nervous as fuck, and I’m not even sure why.” She takes a drink of her beer before clapping her hands loudly. “Might need a couple more of these.” She holds up the plastic cup, shaking it up at me.

  “Me neither, all I know is I want him to win.” I hold my hands in a prayer motion in front of me. “I might have to go grab me one of those.” I tilt my head toward the beer.

  “I’m so glad JD isn’t in this, and I can scream all I want for Slater.” She gives me a little grin. “I love to watch him hit a home run.”

  My eyes are wide as I glance over at my friend; I’m unsure whether she just low-key told me she’s been checking my husband out or not. Either way, I’ll let it slide since this is an important day and I want to take this all in. It being my first time to watch him participate in this.

  Kelsea leans into us. “His muscles ripple, and when he’s wearing that one uniform shirt, you can literally see his abs. I might have a little crush on your husband, Malone.”

  As I watch the object of everyone’s desire take his spot on the field to be announced as a contender for the special event, I can’t help but give him a good look. He’s wearing a jersey, but it’s open, revealing a white t-shirt, and my absolute favorite pair of white baseball pants (the ones that are just a little tighter than the others), he’s got gloves on his hands, and his Bandits cap is turned backwards. He’s laughing at something Jax is saying to him, and I feel my stomach drop at just how gorgeous he is. Stubble-darkened tanned face, laugh lines, white teeth, and a few crow’s feet? God, he is the hottest. I clear my throat and glance at Kelsea.

  “Same, Kels, same. I think I have a crush on my husband too.”

  Our crew screams loudly as Slade takes his spot in the batter’s box. He’s the last to go, so he knows he has to hit fifteen in the allotted time to be a winner. The crowd screams just as loudly as we do.

  “Please welcome your Bandit’s Center Fielder, Savage Harlow!”

  His hat is backwards with a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. The sun is just at the critical spot where it’s setting below the backfield wall. That jersey he’s wearing is flapping in the breeze, and dayum, if he’s not hot as hell, standing there with a smile on his face. This is the manliest of competitions I’ve seen. All these guys are doing is showing how strong they are, how far, how hard they can it the ball, how many times in a row. It’s a lot like foreplay to me. The look on his face has the same sort of concentration he has as he’s sliding inside of me, the way his fingers twitch on the bat reminds of how he grips my thighs.

  Fuck, is it hot out here?

  He sets himself up and swings as the pitch is delivered to him. I watch as he moves his hands back, steps into the pitch and the ball goes over the outfield wall. There’s loud roars of approval as the next pitch is received the same w
ay, and the next.

  “Look at him in that groove.” Caleb stands along with the rest of us, clapping loudly as he watches Slade smack them over one after another.

  “He makes it look so easy.” I shake my head as I watch him, amazed as I always am.

  Once he gets to ten, the crowd begins to count with him.

  “Eleven!”

  Felicity grabs my hand when number twelve goes over the fence.

  “Thirteen!”

  Kelsea is screaming beside me. “He’s gonna do it!”

  “Fourteen!”

  Ruby screams beside me, Caleb yells his approval. I’m keeping watch on the clock, and I know he’s got enough time.

  “Fifteen!”

  “C’mon baby!” I yell as I send him all the good vibes I’ve ever had in my life. “You can do this!”

  We all hold our collective breath as the next pitch goes over the plate, we hear the crack of the bat and we all watch it go to the second deck in the outfield. And the place literally goes so wild I can feel the ground move beneath our feet.

  When he drops the bat, receiving congratulations from the players he’s gone against, he walks over to our section and motions for me. I bend at the waist, allowing him to pull me partway over the barrier and kiss me. The crowd goes wild, and I have to admit, I like the attention, just a little bit. “Congrats, slugger.”

  “Only with you here could I do this, sweetness.” He turns to look at Kelsea. “You wanna come down, short stuff?”

  “Yeah!” She nods with an excitement I haven’t seen her have all day.

  As he picks her up and puts her on the field with him, there’s a loud cheer as she waves and he goes to accept his trophy.

  This day will go down as one of my favorite since we moved here.

  Sixteen

  Savage

  Since the All-Star game, things have been a little crazy around our neck of the woods. Both Malone and I have had hundreds of thousands follow us on social media. People are asking for her autograph if they see her at the stadium, and the past few times we’ve been out together, we’ve been stopped to take pictures. I’m used to it, but neither one of us were prepared for her to be included. We’re learning it comes with the territory.

  “Is this okay?” Malone asks as she comes into the living room, wearing a short summer dress with a pair of dainty sandals that fasten around her slim ankles.

  “I’m a fuckin’ lucky man who loves that it’s summer time. You wear less clothes, and I get to cop feels easier.” I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss that threatens to become wild from the moment our lips touch.

  “As much as I would love to stay in with you tonight, I’m really looking forward to going out too. We don’t get to do it nearly enough, and maybe I want to show people what my hot husband looks like not wearing a baseball uniform.”

  “You like this?”

  I motion to the button-down shirt I wear, tucked into a pair of khakis, actual shoes on my feet. Typically when I’m off the field, I’m in flip flops, so it feels foreign to have these shoes on. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy though, and if a night at a nice dinner is what she wants, then that’s what we’ll do.

  “I do.” She looks me up and down, giving me a small smile as she licks her lips.

  “If you want us to go, you’ve got to stop looking at me like that.” I grab her hand in mine, pulling her to me. Dropping a kiss on her lips, I hand her purse to her. “After you, wifey.”

  As she walks in front of me, I thoroughly enjoy the way her dress clings to her ass. There aren’t any panty lines, and I’m intrigued with what I’ll find when I’m finally able to get it off of her. We ride the elevator down, her back pressed to my front.

  “I fuckin’ love the smell of your shampoo. I don’t know what it is, but I smell this stuff in my dreams.” I run my fingers through it, trying not to damage the curls she’s perfected tonight. “When I think about you and I try to imagine you on a road trip, this is the smell that always comes back to me. In the middle of the night, I tend to snuggle up next to you, and when we’re on the couch, I always put my face in your neck. This smell, it’s a calming force for me. If you ever change shampoo, you’re gonna have to warn me.”

  She laughs as she turns in my arms, putting hers around my neck. “I feel the same way about the aftershave you use, when you do shave, and the beard oil you use when you have a beard. Both of them smell similar to one another. They remind me of suntan oil and the beach, which in turn, reminds me of our honeymoon. If I’m missing you, that’s the smell I gravitate toward.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to miss me,” I whisper in her ear, pouting slightly. “But I know you have your own life here, and I can’t expect you to drop it and follow me around. That’s the problem teenage Slater made, not seeing you as your own person. Grown-up Slater won’t do that.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll feel comfortable going, but you’ve already done so much for me. The new clothes, the new car - I just want something for myself, and my job is that. It allows me to do what I’m good at while giving me a purpose. Not that you’re not important, I just need goals too, ya know?”

  “I get it.” I hug her tightly as the elevator comes to the parking garage and we step off, holding her hand as I lead us to my car.

  Opening the door, I help her get into the other car I own, a low-slung sports car, and then eye her leg as I shut her in. There’s something about her getting so dressed up that turns me on. I love her comfortable in her PJ’s or in a pair of worn jeans and a tank top, but tonight I love this. To know she spent the time to get ready for me, that she went the extra mile to look hot for me? I’ll always appreciate it.

  I adjust myself as I walk around the car. Yeah, if anyone were to ask me, I would definitely say my wife is hot.

  Malone

  When Slade pulls up to the restaurant, I gasp. This is one I’ve wanted to go to since I moved here. “You didn’t tell me it was this one.”

  “I know, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” He puts a hand on my thigh as he puts the car in park. “I’ll be around, don’t get out just yet.”

  Goosebumps rise on my arms and legs as I sit in the passenger seat, watching as my hot as hell husband gives the valet his keys, then comes around to my side. When he opens the door, motioning for me to get out, I put my sandal-clad foot on the asphalt and swing my leg around, pushing the skirt of my dress between my legs as I get out of the car – no free show for the paps tonight. His hand is there to support me as I stand. For a split second, I close my eyes when he slips his palm down to my hip and pulls me in for a kiss. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I flutter my eyelashes, looking up at him with stars in my eyes.

  “C’mon.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, guiding me into the restaurant. “Reservation for Harlow.”

  “Right this way.”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever been to a place that had a reservation for me, the person, not me the PR person. I grasp Slade’s hand tightly as we walk through the dimly lit space. People look at us; I can feel their eyes as we approach a table in the back. Slade pulls my chair out, indicating that I should sit.

  “This place is so nice,” I whisper as he has a seat across from me.

  “Only the best for us,” he whispers back.

  I’m in awe as the maître d’ makes a big presentation about what kind of wine we should drink with our meal, leaving us with bread, and the menu.

  “I don’t even know what to get.” I scoot closer to him, crossing my legs and leaning over. “What are you getting?”

  “Steak, definitely,” he answers as he puts his arm around the back of my chair. “I’m so damn hungry I could eat a horse.”

  “You can always eat a horse.” I slip my hand into his.

  “I’m a growing man.” He puts his elbow on the table, cupping my jaw in the palm of his hand.

  My hair falls, blocking us as he pulls me in for a k
iss. It’s sweet, chaste - the opposite of everything else we always do, and I love it just as much as the wild. Every part of Savage is important, and I never want to dampen any of it.

  Our wine is brought, and we order, Slade getting something that is market priced. I smile, shaking my head at him. We’re about to dig in to an appetizer that’s been hand-delivered by the cook when someone approaches our table.

  “I hate to interrupt, but I’m a huge fan, Savage. Do you think I could get an autograph?”

  This is the first time we’ve been approached out like this, at least when we’ve been with each other. I’m not going to lie, it puts me in a weird mood. When we’re at the stadium or someplace related to it, I expect to be approached. Here, with him, on date night, I never thought it would happen.

  Slade looks at me, like he’s not sure what to do. I nod slightly, telling him with my eyes to go ahead and sign. Maybe if he signs one, he won’t have to sign a bunch. I hear him ask the guy his name and watch as he signs with a flourish. The guy pulls out his phone and leans in for a selfie too.

  Just as the flash goes off, the maître d’ comes back over, apologizing and escorting the guy out. Smiling shakily at one another, we try to recapture the feeling we had when we first got here, but it’s ruined now.

  Little do I know, this is a precursor for what’s to come.

  Seventeen

  Malone

  August

  Slade has been gone for eight days, and he’ll unfortunately be gone for five more on this road trip of the Midwest and East Coast. Road trips have become my least favorite thing, and when he and I do argue, it’s because of either things that happen while he’s gone, or we miss one another so much. I’ve found that I like picking at him, seeing if I can poke the bear, so to speak, to get a reaction out of him. He likes to tell me I’m seeing things that aren’t there and that I’m nagging him when all he needs to do is concentrate on his job.