42. Emerson

I climbed out of the black Mercedes like I did every time I arrived at Lang Field. But this time, Chris was leaning against the fence that surrounded the stadium, a jersey tossed over one shoulder.

"So?" He straightened and cocked a brow.

"I'm totally in love with your sister."

He rolled his eyes. "I got that yesterday. Is it safe to assume, since you're practically spitting happiness, that you talked to her?"

I tackle-hugged him, almost knocking him over.

"Jesus." He shook loose and shoved me back.

"She quit her job. And she wants to focus on art and stay in Boston for a while." I smiled, my heart practically bursting out of my chest. "Because she wants to be with me."

"Smart woman." He clapped a hand on my shoulder, but then he hit me with the glare I was so familiar with. "And I want no more details ever."

I laughed. "Fair enough, but I have to say one thing."

His brow knitted. "What?"

I stopped walking and gave myself a minute to say this right. Because it would probably be the biggest problem in our relationship moving forward. "I'd never say a single bad thing about Avery or ever be mean to her."

"I know that." He crossed his arms and frowned at me.

"'Cause that would be really sucky for you to deal with."

He grunted.

"So it makes sense to you that it's really hard for me not to throw something at you when you aren't nice to Gi."

"Oh." His eyes narrowed. "Yeah, okay. I get it." He sighed. "She and I have always butted heads, but I'll try."

"Thanks, man." Still floating on damn air, I followed him to the elevator, and he hit the up button instead of down, where the locker room was.

"Where are we going?"

"I have a meeting with Langfield." Focus set on the stainless-steel doors in front of us, Chris worked his jaw back and forth. "He asked me to bring you."

Odd. But whatever. If they wanted me to be their trained monkey today, I was willing.

"Hold it for me." Kyle trotted over with his jersey bunched in one hand.

"We're going up," I warned.

He nodded. "Me too."

"Is this a team meeting?" I asked, looking from one guy to the other.

"Hell yeah, it is," Chris growled. "Most important one we've had."

For the first time today, a little niggle of worry wormed its way through me. With a cleansing breath, I pushed it away. It wasn't that weird that I didn't know about it. I wasn't usually involved in the serious stuff that went on with the Revs.

Though I did my best to keep my thinking positive, that worry returned. As we rode, I cracked my knuckles.

The doors opened, and we stepped off on the top floor, finding Asher and Mason, both with their jerseys slung over their shoulders.

"Should I run to the locker room and grab my jersey? I think I missed the email." I glanced farther down to where Eddie and Jasper chatted, both also holding their jerseys.

"Don't worry. We've got you." Chris clasped my shoulder.

That worry turned into dread. What did that mean?

"Come on." He tipped his chin, gesturing to Beckett's office.

When I didn't move, Kyle gave me a shove in the back, sending me stumbling through the door. Beckett was behind his desk, and Cortney stood at the windows that overlooked the harbor.

As I righted myself, Beckett glanced up, his brows pulled together. "What's going on?"

He gave me a cursory glance, then leaned to one side, his eyes widening. Frowning, I turned around to see the rest of my teammates filing in.

Cortney Miller turned completely and crossed his arms over his massive chest.

"It came to our attention yesterday that one of our teammates doesn't have a contract for next year." Mason stepped up in front of the desk. "As the captain, it seemed odd to me that management would be dumb enough to get rid of him. But apparently, it's a thing."

He dropped his jersey on the desk. "My bat is on fire this season, but it's only because that man"—he turned and pointed at me, and my heart jumped—"is always on base, stealing second or even third. Making the pitcher nervous and twitchy. I get easy pitches because they're distracted. My bat's on fire because he's supporting me." He stepped close and pulled me in for a hug. Then he turned back to Beckett. "I need him on the team. Take 5 percent of my contract for him."

My breath caught in my lungs. What?

Before I could argue with him, Eddie stepped up to the desk.

"You say I own the infield, but the truth is the only reason I can cover so much is because I don't need to worry about anything up the left side. Em owns the third baseline. If it's catchable, he's got it. He's a wall. And I don't want anyone else beside me. Take five from my contract too." Eddie dropped his jersey on the desk and then hugged me.

My legs were numb, and the rest of my body was heavy, frozen in shock.

Kyle dropped his jersey on the pile next. "Fans love the Revs and the show we put on. But dude"—he shook his head—"we all know it's really the Emerson show. I couldn't do it without him. And truthfully, I won't act like a dumbass for publicity with anyone else." He turned and hugged me. "Love you, bro." Then he glanced back. "Take five from me too."

One by one, my teammates dropped their jerseys on the pile and offered up small percentages of their contracts to keep me on the team. As stunned as I was at the gesture, when Tom Wilson pushed through, I thought I might pass out.

He tossed his hat onto the desk. "I love the kid. Not only is he good on the field, but he's good for morale." He clapped my shoulder before stepping aside.

Hannah walked up to the desk and took in the pile of shirts. Then, with a sigh, she carefully stepped out of her sky-high heels.

As the shoes hit the pile, she said, "He is literally the only one of these guys who makes my job easy. Do not get rid of the heart of the team." She turned to me and smiled. "I'm not sure any of us have ever said this to you, but thank you. There isn't a single person on this team or in this organization who doesn't realize that if they need a yes-man, you're it. So thank you."

I scanned the room, blinking hard. My heart had never felt so full. There was a good chance that this dog and pony show would have no effect on the decisions made in the front office, but fucking hell, this was a moment I'd never forget. My eyes welled.

"Shit." I sniffed. "I'm gonna cry."

With a snort, Chris shook his head. Then he turned to Beckett's desk and tossed his jersey on top of Hannah's shoes. "Take 10 percent of my contract. Hell, twenty if you need it. I'd really like my future brother-in-law to stay in Boston."

With that, he turned and hugged me. I couldn't stop the sob that worked its way up my throat.

"Jesus. Don't leak on me." Chris pushed me away, chuckling.

Wiping at my eyes, I couldn't help but laugh.

Beckett slammed his hand on the desk and stood. "I told you," he snapped over his shoulder. "First of all, I was right about Damiano's sister and this one." With a finger jabbed at me, he turned back to Miller. "And second, I told you they would all freak out about his contract."

Cortney sighed. "Okay. It pains me to say it, but you were right."

"As always." Beckett smirked. "For the record," he said, raising his voice, "we're all glad you love Emerson. But Man Bun and I have been working all season to free up the money to give our third baseman the contract he deserves."

Cortney stepped past Hannah and the guys and towered over me. With a pat to my shoulder, he said, "Your agent will have it next week at the latest."

I froze. "Really?"

He nodded. He might have been our general manager, and what I was doing was probably anything but professional, but I couldn't help myself. I jumped up and squeezed him tight. He staggered back and banged into the desk, but kept us upright.

"And look, I created another happy ending." Beckett dropped into his chair with a smirk.

Cortney extricated himself and gently pushed me away. "Don't even start."

I ignored their bickering. I was too busy floating on cloud nine. Never in my life had I been so happy. Now that I had both my girl and my team, life was perfect.