Ryot Bisley is my husband.
Yes, the former third baseman for the Chicago Bobbies and absolute heart throb of the Windy City. That Ryot Bisley.
The first time I ran into him, he was grumpy, a horrific host, and left me on his sofa with nothing but a nylon baseball flag to use as a blanket.
The second time, he reluctantly bought me dinner, stared at my chest the entire night, and still sported that permanent frown.
The third time . . . well, that was a game changer. His smile captured me, his teasing charmed me, and his touches excited me.
So when he was called up to the majors that didn’t stop us from knocking it out of the park and all the way down the aisle.
Eleven years later…I’d love to say we’re happy as ever but the man who sent me dirty text messages every day is long gone and Mr. Frowny Face is back.
He’s so focused on trying to build a life after baseball that he doesn’t see the life we’ve already created together. . .so I make the hard decision and serve him divorce papers.
Problem is…my husband refuses to accept those papers. Instead, he has a new game plan that makes untying the knot of our marriage a little tricky. And just when I thought I wanted to be traded . . . he’s slowly, tantalizingly roping me back in.