“Players with families get traded all the time,” I point out. Many kids are uprooted from their schools when their fathers land new contracts or are put on waivers in the middle of the season.
“True, but people love you here,” Ethan says.
“Not my teammates.”
“Fuck them,” Branch blurts out. “They’re not speaking for the whole team. What does Ryan say?”
“He doesn’t want me to go and asked me to wait until after my hearing next week to make a decision.”
“Well, do what he says.” Branch finishes off his beer as the women come out of the room, primped and ready to go.
I stand as soon as I see Saylor. She’s added a red fur shawl to her dress, making her even prettier than before.
“I can’t believe I get to show you off tonight as my wife. That means no hiding from anyone, and if I want to steal a kiss, I can do so without wondering who is going to see.”
She nods and meets my gaze. “Will you dance with me?”
“All night long, babe. And when we’re done upstairs, we are going to perfect the horizontal tango.”
In a matter of seconds, I took a romantic moment and made it crass. Her hand lands on my lapel in a smack. I can’t help but laugh as I take her hand and follow the guys out of our suite.
It’s official.
Travis Kidd has wed his publicist, Saylor Blackwell, in an intimate ceremony on New Year’s Eve. According to sources, Ethan Davenport served as best man while Cooper Bailey was a groomsman.
For the bride, Daisy Davenport stepped in as matron of honor, and Ainsley Bailey rounded out the wedding party as a bridesmaid. Branch Singleton’s son, Shaun, escorted Miss Lucy Blackwell down the aisle while she performed her flower girl duties.
The wedding party was later seen at the Rotary Dinner and Gala, still dressed in their wedding attire, giving the guests an opportunity to celebrate with the newlyweds.
There was no word on who designed Ms. Blackwell’s dress, but revelers from the gala gushed about how beautiful it was.
Congratulations, Travis and Saylor!
The BoRe Blogger
Thirty-Six
Saylor
The rooftop terrace provides the most amazing view of the harbor. Everyone gathers around, keeping close for added body heat while we wait for the countdown to the new year. Resolutions are muttered among the onlookers, many seeking a new lifestyle with diets and whatnot, while a few say they’re quitting their jobs or going to finally take that family vacation they’ve wanted.
I don’t think I can make just one New Year’s resolution. The most obvious is to retain custody of my daughter. That is the highest on my priority list, which leads me to my next one—my need to stop second-guessing my marriage to Travis. Going into today I expected us to say “I do” and head our separate ways for the holiday because he had to be here. He surprised me, though, and has made this one of the most memorable days of my life.
Travis and I huddle together for warmth with the Baileys and Davenports on either side of us while Branch is off talking to a woman he met this evening. It’s one of the drawbacks of living on the East Coast during the winter, especially near the harbor, but the fireworks are spectacular and shouldn’t be missed if given the opportunity.
All night the guys have played their parts, posing for pict
ures and signing autographs, even partaking in a few dances with the older women of Boston. The wives, as we were dubbed by a few cleat-chasers, stood back and watched our men dazzle the socks off the city’s most elite.
“Do you have a New Year’s resolution?” I ask Travis.
“To make you fall in love with me,” he answers with a kiss to my cold nose. I imagine I look like Rudolph right about now but can easily say I’m not the only one. His words should make me weak in the knees, but the truth is they scare me. I have already fallen in love, and what happens when he decides that this marriage is no longer beneficial to him? Granted, he’s entered into this union without a prenup, something I don’t agree with, but it’s his money. But even money can’t mend a broken heart—only time can, and I’ve been down that path before.
“I can see the doubt in your eyes, Saylor.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just…”
“What?”