Chapter 32
Walker
Tonight was the night. The night I finally had the balls to discuss my retirement with Farrah.
Things had been going too well with us, and having just reconnected, I wasn't ready to rock the boat.
Unfortunately, my employer was ready for a decision, so our little bubble of pure bliss was about to pop.
Hadley was with Jake this weekend, presenting the perfect opportunity for me to wine and dine my girl at my place before dropping the dreaded subject on her.
I grilled some steaks, made baked potatoes with some broccolini, and poured us one of my dad's more expensive vintages. I had everything on the table when I heard the front door open. "In the kitchen!" I called out to her.
Farrah made her way around the corner, and I swear every single fucking time I saw her, those goddamn butterflies took flight in my stomach.
She had her blonde hair piled high into a knot on top of her head, and was wearing a loose gray crop top and dark purple joggers.
The girl could wear a paper bag, and she still would manage to take my breath away.
I placed a quick kiss against her lips before pulling her into a hug.
"Baby, I cooked!" I gestured proudly toward the plates on the table.
She grinned, approaching the table. "I see that. Impressive."
Once we were seated, she took a quick sip of wine and smirked. "I don't think you could even manage to make mac n' cheese in college."
"Well, I'm a man of many talents now. I've evolved." I waggled my brows at her, making her snort into her wine glass.
Farrah held up her wine glass in a toast. "To evolving."
We fell into a comfortable conversation while eating our dinner.
Farrah couldn't get over my newfound cooking skills, interrupting our conversation more than once to gush over the meal.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't puff up my chest a few times at the compliments. We’d both been busy this week, so we spent a lot of time catching up on how my pitching was going and the status of some of her projects.
After we finished and I cleared our plates, we decided to sit out on my back porch with a bottle of wine.
We sat quietly, enjoying the light breeze.
The sky was a deep onyx dusted with glittering stars.
I draped my arm across the back of the couch, and Farrah rested her head against my chest. I didn’t want to ruin this moment—but I knew I had to.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," I blurted.
Not the smoothest, Walker.
Farrah lifted her head, her jade eyes meeting mine with question. "Sure, what's up?"
"The team wants my retirement decision by next week.
I've been putting it off for a while, trying to see how my elbow felt.
" I paused. "And seeing what happened between you and me…
" My voice trailed off as I glanced down at my wine glass, twirling the stem between my fingers.
"I want to do this right, this time. My elbow is strong, and I feel good.
My pitching speed and technique are back to where they were, but you and Hadley make me incredibly happy.
I finally feel whole again." I blew out a shaky breath.
"If you want me to retire, then I will, for us.
For the family and life I want with you.
I know what comes with my career, and I want to make this decision together. "
Even if I don’t know who I am without baseball.
Farrah's eyes softened. "Together," she echoed back.
"So just say the word, and I'll retire. I'll do whatever I have to do to make you happy, Farrah. I…"
She held her finger against my lips, silencing me.
"I don't want you to retire, you're not done.
I watched you out on that field, Walker, and that's where you come alive. Your strength, your resilience—you're inspiring. You’re a leader on and off that field, and your team needs you. The last thing I’ll allow you to do is retire before your time; you have more to give.
" She cupped my jaw, her eyes bright. "I love you, Walker, and we’re in this together. I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."
I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed to hear those words. My shoulders dropped, the weight lifted. I pressed my mouth to hers before saying what I'd been wanting to say for a long time. "I love you too, Wildflower."
"Oh, and I'll be commuting to Austin a lot during the off-season. So, we’re really going to need to figure out logistics." She smirked.
I tilted my head in confusion.
"You’re looking at the official designer for the Austin Aviators clubhouse."
My brows shot up my forehead, my eyes wide. "Are you fucking serious? You got the job?!"
She nodded with the biggest grin on her face. "Duke Preston had me come into the office last week."
I wrapped my hand around the back of her head and pulled her mouth to mine. "I had no idea. He never said anything to me. I'm so fucking proud of you, baby."
Farrah was beaming. "Thanks, I'm pretty proud of myself too. This is huge for me and my business."
Farrah may have told me with words that she didn’t want me to retire and that she was truly in this with me, but her actions were louder.
I heard them loud and clear, and maybe for the first time… I actually believed them.
After the heavy conversation—and killing a bottle of wine—I wanted Farrah in my bed.
Once we got to my room, she took my hand and led me to the chair tucked into the corner. A mirror sat angled beside it, catching the low light. She didn’t say a word—just pushed me down into the seat, her gaze heavy with want.
Not taking her eyes off mine, she lifted her shirt over her head, revealing a dark pink bra that pushed her tits up and made my mouth go fucking dry. Then she slowly peeled her joggers down her legs and, yeah, matching panties.
Fuck me.
I was already hard.
Farrah dropped to her knees, sliding her hands up my thighs until she found the waistband of my shorts. She stripped me out of them, like she’d been waiting all night for permission. My cock sprang free, aching, thick, demanding.
She swirled her tongue around the tip, eyes locked on me the whole time. I fisted her hair and tugged the knot loose. Waves of blonde spilled down her back.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered.
Farrah took me into her mouth, slow and deep, dragging her lips up and down like she was trying to ruin me on purpose. I glanced toward the mirror and realized I had a perfect side view of her on her knees, taking me like she’d been made for it.
A laugh punched out of me, wrecked and breathless. “Look at you, Wildflower. Giving me a second view of you sucking my cock.”
She grinned around me and nodded, eyes glittering.
Then she took me to the back of her throat, and my head dropped against the chair in pure, stupid ecstasy.
“Fuck—”
She picked up the pace, one hand working the base while her mouth did impossible things. My grip tightened in her hair, my thighs tensing, my brain turning into static.
“Farrah… Jesus, baby.”
At some point, she cupped my balls, and I almost blacked out.
“I’m gonna—” I tried to pull her off, tried to get control of myself. She didn’t let me. She doubled down, no mercy, until my body gave up and the orgasm ripped through me hard enough to make my vision blur.
“Farrah, fuck—”
She swallowed, slow and satisfied, like she wanted all of it. Then she sat back on her heels and smiled proudly. I stood up, hauled her to her feet, and tossed her onto my bed. “My turn.”
Truthfully, I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to take my time and show her exactly how much I loved her, but a guy needed a minute after one hell of a blowjob.
I hovered over her and kissed her, deep and hungry. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, then slid my tongue inside, taking what she’d just taken from me.
When I pulled back, my grin was rough. “Didn’t realize how badly you wanted my cum down your throat, baby.”
She rolled her eyes and then grabbed the back of my head, dragging me down for another kiss.
I broke it on a groan and started down her body, kissing every curve, her skin soft like velvet beneath my lips.
“You were made for me,” I murmured against her inner thigh.
She shivered.
“You know how I know?” Another kiss. Her breath caught.
“Because every moment without you felt wrong.” I dragged my tongue up her thigh, slow and teasing. “And now?” I pressed a kiss right where she needed me most. “Now everything feels exactly right.”
I kissed her center once more—soft—and then lazily dragged my tongue through her arousal.
Farrah’s hands dove into my hair and tugged.
I sucked her clit into my mouth, and she gasped, hips lifting, chasing me.
I slid two fingers inside her, curling just right, and her moans turned wrecked. Louder and needier.
Making her come felt instinctive, like muscle memory. Like my hands remembered her even when my head tried to forget.
I kept my mouth on her until she broke apart, my name falling from her lips like a prayer, and I’d never get tired of hearing it. I crawled back up her body and brushed hair away from her face. Kissed the freckles scattered across her nose. Our eyes met, and all I saw was love.
She was love.
I kissed her again, slow and thorough, pouring everything I had into it.
I wanted her to feel it in her bones. She reached down and stroked my cock, and I groaned against her mouth, forehead dropping to hers.
I positioned myself at her core and sank in slowly.
Her mouth parted with every inch, and when I finally bottomed out, her eyes slipped closed on a satisfied, broken little moan.
We took our time. Slow, deliberate, like we were trying to make the night last forever.
And fuck—I wished it could.
I felt her start to tip, the tension building in her body.
“Walker… yes—right there,” she breathed. “Don’t stop.”
I couldn’t if I tried.
I reached between us and pressed my thumb to her clit, and she shattered, coming hard around me.
Just watching her fall apart on my cock was enough to take me with her.
I spilled into her with her name on my lips, the world going white at the edges.
When it was over, we were sweaty, breathless, and completely wrecked.
I rolled off her and pulled her into me, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.
Farrah pressed a kiss to my chest. “I love you too, Ace.”
I slept better than I had in years.
The weight had lifted, the clouds had parted, I could see through the trees—and whatever the hell else people say.
I slipped out of bed early and padded into the hallway to call my agent. Weston had been right—when you know, you know.
No hesitation. No doubt.
Just peace.
I hit Scott’s number and waited through the rings.
“You’re lucky I’m up at five to work out,” Scott said, voice rough. “Why the fuck are you calling me this early, James?”
I chuckled. “Because I’ve made my decision, and I wanted you to have it before I could talk myself out of it.”
A beat of silence.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “It’s too early for this kind of conversation.”
“Relax. You’re going to like this one.” I exhaled. “I’m not retiring. I’ll be back next year.”
Another pause.
“And,” I added, because this part mattered, even if I hadn’t said it out loud yet, “it’ll be my last.”
I hadn’t told Farrah that part.
Not yet.
Getting her full support to return had been everything I never thought I’d have again—but I was getting older. And I wanted a family. With her. I wanted to be present for Hadley. I wanted the life we kept circling back to.
Next season would be my final run at a World Series. My last year of baseball on my terms.
Scott and I spent the next fifteen minutes on next steps—front office timing, the announcement, and media.
When I hung up, I slipped back into the bedroom as quietly as I could.
Farrah was sprawled across my sheets like she owned them.
Her hair everywhere, mouth parted in sleep, completely unguarded.
And the only thing my brain offered up was simple. Certain.
Mine.
Finally.