I pressed my hand to my heart and said, “I thought I lost the love of my life. Wish me luck in having a second chance with her.”
I avoided mentioning my son. If they asked me about him, I didn’t want to admit I had no idea about his name or any details.
“You’re too good to pass up,” the female reporter said, looking me up and down.
Good. I avoided the topic and sauntered up the aisle. My stomach had butterflies like I was nervous, as made my way toward the lot where families reunited.
Maybe I was on overdrive. I’d finally found her again and now I had a few hours to be near her.
My wishes were about to come true as I opened the door.
There was Georgie. Her brown hair still in a ponytail, plain white shirt that hid her beautiful orbs and sexier hips that I could hold onto when I rammed myself into her.
And yes, that was going to happen.
I’d have her again. That wasn’t destiny or fate or any such bullshit. Having her again was my future, and I didn’t need a crystal ball to know that.
She had her arms crossed as Rogers stopped me from going to her side.
I paused as my teammate said, “You just made it sound like you’re in love.”
I needed her, but the last thing I needed was locker room gossip, so I shrugged, “It’s what the media likes, and who knows, maybe it will help increase the offers and make me look more stable.”
“A shark as always,” Rogers said and headed back into the stadium.
I finally made it to the top of the walkway and saw how she clutched the boy’s hand. I took off his Pirates hat and put a Sooners hat on his head.
He smiled at me as his mother said, “I’ve been googling your life for the past few hours.”
If I'd known her full name years ago, we’d not be here now because I’d have found her. I placed my hand on her back to direct her toward the player’s parking lot so we might get out of there.
She didn’t stop me as I said, “Don’t believe everything you read.”
She paused near the door and covered her son’s ears as she asked, “So you didn’t get caught with a…prostitute…in LA?”
My entire body froze as that moment replayed in my mind. She’d been a gift from Rogers that I’d never wanted.
“There is more to that story.”
Her face was red as she asked, “How?”
Four years ago, Rogers had called my newfound celibacy a dry spell. I’d not wanted to date since Georgie, but he’d been trying to help me out and resorted to hiring some woman who then had her friend snap a picture of us and got it in the news. I’d been escorting her out while assuring her that she’d keep the money my friend had paid. Then we’d walked right into a group of reporters and she'd given interviews without me.
I squared my shoulders now and said to the one person this mattered to. “I didn’t touch her except to get her out of the hotel room, fast.”
“Hmm,” Georgie said, with her arms crossed.
I reached for the door. “We’ll talk more when we’re out of here.”
She let her son’s ears go. “Where should we meet you?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked and pointed out to the lot.
She pointed backward and jangled her keys. “We’ll get in our car and meet you at a restaurant.”
I held the door for her. “We’ll send for your car or I’ll drop you off later.” The pair of them walked with me to my silver Audi R8 Spyder and I opened my passenger seat as I said, “Get in.”
Her face looked like I'd just told her to eat dirt off the ground. “You don’t have enough seats.”
Her boy, whose name was still a mystery, tugged on her arm and stepped inside as he said, “Mom, we’ll make it work.”
Smart boy. He hopped into the tiny back with his surprisingly long legs. I watched as she took the seat next to mine and then I closed the door.
Once I revved the engine, I didn’t ask the burning question in my mind of her last name, where she’d been, or my son’s name.
Instead, I asked, “How old are you?”
“Six,” he answered.
I glanced in the mirror as I took off. “And what’s your name?”
“Jeremy,” he said.
I tapped the wheel as we peeled out of the lot, and I did the math. The name I didn’t recognize, but six would be about right.
“That’s what I thought.”
He asked, as his mother glared at me, “You did?”
I met Georgie’s sidelong look as I drove them toward my hotel. It was the best place to have a private conversation, which I hoped she understood.
“Yeah, you look exactly like my dad.”
Her lips were thin as she said, “He looks like you.”
Was that an admission?
She’d had my son without telling me, but I just said, “Then I recognized the family resemblance.”
I never thought I looked like my dad, but I wasn’t about to argue as that seemed silly. Georgie’s lips were tight as she locked that gaze on me like she could burn into my skin, but said nothing.
Jeremy then asked, “So you know you’re my father?”
Her face went almost purple as I drove into the lot of the hotel nearby. “I need your mom to confirm that.”
She glanced out the window as I pulled into valet and asked, “Why?”
I leaned closer to her. Up close, she was sweet enough to wet my lips.
I burned with the need to have her again. “Call me old fashioned, but I need to hear it with my own ears.”
She reached for the door and hopped out as she said, “Fine. He’s your son.”
Our son followed her. We were this close to being alone. I had no idea how to seduce a woman with a child present. But Jeremy seemed like a good kid, and I needed to find out more about my son.
My dad had been hard on me, but ultimately his drilling me taught me more about baseball than anything else I’d ever done. With my own son, I wanted to be important to him, but maybe less intense, and suddenly, that thought was about to be true.
I slammed my door with more force than usual. “Then let’s bring this conversation somewhere more private. Son, you pick whatever you want from room service.”
For a moment, her hands went into fists at her sides, but she let them go and curled her arms around her waist instead. If she was nervous, I’d give her space until she remembered how good we were together.
Either way, now that I knew she had my son, we were bonded forever, so she might want some benefits from me, and I’d do whatever I could to get her back in bed, fast.
And I couldn't wait to see her ass again to see how having my boy had changed her.
I needed to know that, too.
Chapter 3
Georgie
I turned my phone off. Indigo, Stephanie, Ridley, Nicole, Olivia, my sisters, or Phoenix, Rocky, Ryder, Marshall, Chase, or Zuma, my cousins, who were like brothers, all called often, would ask how the game had gone and I’d have no answer. What could I say?
Ridley’s tickets were a direct line to the father of my child. Turns out, he’s a ballplayer.
No. I’d not say that. More questions would then follow and, honestly, it was better to avoid that conversation for today when my nerves were already shot.
That decision didn’t take the zap out of the air and my hair stood on its ends as I crossed the threshold to his hotel room. The last time I’d done this, we’d created Jeremy.
So I held him like he was my life preserver as the door behind us closed. Michael put the "do not disturb" sign up and locked the door.
My shoulders cringed, as we were now practically alone, and my son just let me go and asked, “Can I get a cheeseburger and fries?”
Be cool. The Michael I remembered was protective and sweet and he’d not seduce my panties off me while our son was present.
I ignored the zip in my veins and hugged my waist like I was thinking, as I asked, “That’s all you want?”
“And a soda,” Jeremy added as he took a seat at the table with his phone in his hand.
Michael picked up the phone to assumedly call room service.
I unhooked my arms from around my sides and said, “You already had one today.”
Michael blocked the receiver so whoever was on the other line didn’t hear. “He just met his father for the first time. Let him have whatever he wants.”
I nodded. He ordered three cheeseburgers, one with a salad instead of fries, which is exactly what I’d have ordered, and hung up the phone.
“I’m going to need a DNA test for the lawyers to set up a trust account for Jeremy.”
I dragged my feet toward the dining table to be near my son. “That’s not a problem. Look, we’re not after your money.”
He took a seat opposite me and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The goosebumps were because his nearness made me giggly and jumpy. This wasn’t still attraction, right? That wasn’t going to happen.
I placed my hands on the table and said, “I didn’t know your last name. I searched for you after everything with my parents but couldn't find you.”
He reached out and took my hand. Definitely sparks.
“I’m in the newspapers a lot. My face has cards.”
Someone knocked at the door.
He jumped up as Jeremy said, “I have your baseball card.”
The tray of food came in. It must be fast service when you’re a celebrity like Michael because last time I took my son on a trip, we waited an hour for room service to arrive.
This had taken five minutes or less, but Michael didn’t even notice as he winked at me and said, “See, there is a picture of me in your house.”
I pressed my lips together as he tipped the delivery guy, who then left without a word.
Once I heard the click of the door and Michael sat beside me, I relaxed and said, “I don’t look at the cards or read newspapers. I just buy the card packs because Jeremy asks, and he’s entertained in his seat.”
He unwrapped his burger and Jeremy dug into his. Being near Michael rattled and made my insides bloom with awareness, but I needed to calm down. I forced my lips to curl up until I relaxed. For a few minutes, none of us said a word as we enjoyed our meal.
As the food wound down, Michael wiped his face and asked, “What is it you do, Georgie?”
My stomach twisted. Normally, whenever someone in my mom’s groups complained about their job, I’d been the "at least you’re not Georgie who works retail now" feel good rebuttal. I never mentioned my side business that brought in money, as it wasn’t their business, and I only worked at the store for healthcare.
I wasn’t looking for love or some sort of satisfaction from working when I folded my hands in front of me and said, “I raise Jeremy and work part-time filling online orders at a store.”
Jeremy finished his food and pushed his plate back. “Mom quit her nice job to look after me.”
Oh, no.
“My job before was boring anyhow,” I said fast. No way should Jeremy ever feel guilty over that choice. I sat straighter and met Michael’s clear blue eyes as I said, “Look, I’m not poor or desperate. We don’t need your money to survive.”
Jeremy pointed toward the living area of the room and asked, “Mom, can I go sit on the couch and play a game on my phone?”
We’d leave in a minute and get a car share back to the stadium.
For now, I ignored how my skin was still warm from Michael’s nearness and just said, “Sure.”
Jeremy got up and left.
Michael leaned back in his chair and asked, “How are you paying for everything you have by yourself?”
I lifted my chin.
We’d not seen each other in years, and he had no idea that I rejected every other man I met, as I asked, “How do you know I’m alone?”
His eyebrow rose and, inside, I quaked.
There was no way I wanted to lie, so my neck tensed, and I closed my eyes as I said, “Fine.” For a moment, I just breathed, then I said, “My parents left enough for the six of us, but I think a few of my cousins added dollars to that inheritance.”
He blinked and asked me, “Your sisters?”
He remembered that detail then. I should be flattered. Maybe part of me was. His words had sent butterflies into my chest, but I ignored that sense and said, “Yes. Though I’m the only one who chose not to work some fabulous dream job. My parents helped raise my cousins so, in many ways, they are more like brothers, and to pay tribute to my parents, they pooled their money to ensure we were all fine. I’ve been managing to use that to ensure Jeremy has a future.”
“You still work for the day to day expenses?”
“I need healthcare for us.”
“I see.” He played with a piece of his short dark hair that curled. He’d done that years ago, in the same spot, as we had deep discussions on the hotel balcony. The memory of the Bahamas even had a warm breeze tonight as he asked, “And, you’re happy going home alone to an empty bed?”
“Yes,” I said and didn’t move. I’d not be ashamed or admit that every night I wished for his kiss. There was nothing wrong with finding home life fun.
He had his hands on the table, but leaned closer as he asked, “How? I go crazy staring at the four walls.”
Writing. Painting. I enjoyed challenging myself, but he likely didn’t share my interests because, honestly, I found my life more fulfilling than when I’d worked in financial services. “I do more than just work at a store.”
“What else then?”
I swallowed my pride and said, “I develop websites when I’m in the mood to work.”
He sat back like I’d answered his question. “So, you work from home?”
Oh, he had no idea, and I didn’t bother to explain myself as he’d leave us alone soon. I shrugged my shoulder and said, “Part-time. It’s nothing.”
Jeremy let out an audible yawn. “Mom charges five thousand for initial set up.”
Michael’s eyes had a shine in them that sent heatwaves in me from that glance of his.
My son didn’t even pop his head over the couch as he said, “That’s decent.”
“I did a few of my cousins’ sites and they recommended me.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Phoenix Steel, probably.”
“The singer is your cousin?”
“Yes.” I licked my lips and wished I didn’t imagine what Michael’s shaft might still do to me and if he could make me see nothing but stars when he took me.
“Good references then.”
The memory was visceral sitting here with him now and discussing my family. Work. This conversation was benign. I swallowed and patted my hair like I was checking for strays and said, “If I’m going to make time for someone, I might as well charge.”
He folded his hands in front of his chest, making his muscles harden under that white shirt of his. “What else do you do?’
“I read,” I said and crossed my legs. At least with my child here, I’d not be tempted to do anything bad.
I was a model mom.
But he stared at my breasts like he knew what he’d done to them and awareness of him made me weak when he asked, “And?”
The heat in my face grew. I knew I’d never act on my thoughts or feelings, but I was tempted to kiss him again and make the rest of the world black out. However, he took any calmness or peace and tossed that out the door and left me completely rattled. And I needed calmness to be a good mom. I waited till I met his gaze and pretended I was angry when I said, “I also keep house. I help my family when they need me. What is this? An inquisition?”
Michael raised his hands in the air. “I’m just curious.”
The best way to change the conversation was an offense. I pressed my shoulders back and asked, “What about you?”
His gaze twinkled, and I realized he saw the black strap of my bra. I fixed it when he asked, “What about me?”
I glanced around the room and heard the distinct sound of Jeremy’s snoring. “How do you spend your days in hotel rooms like this?”
Michael scooted closer and his voice rattled into my skin. “I work, I go to practice, I masturbate.”
“Jeremy!” I shrieked like I’d wake him up, and my nerves were absolutely shot.
Michael shushed me and ran his finger up my bare arm that grew goosebumps from his simple touch. “He’s asleep.”
I jerked my chair back and stared at my Michael. The longing to wrap myself in him and only him was like a tidal wave I needed to somehow get away from. I refused to turn into my mom and needed to be calm and rational. My dreams weren’t real even if I was now near the source that set me off course the rest of my life. “I should get him home.”
He stood with me, but then his other arm traced mine and my body arched into him like I’d been starving. “In a few minutes. We finally get time alone.”
“I don’t want time alone with you,” I said, but my voice was weaker.
“Why?”
“It’s dangerous.”
Michael Irons had been the only man in the world I’d wanted since that day we’d met. Every other man in these long years had kissed like wet fish that I ran away from fast. Maybe that was because I’d tasted paradise and hadn’t forgotten perfection.
Michael laughed like he could read my thoughts, then said, “Because I said masturbate?”
Here I was in his arms, and the language was getting provocative. I tugged my arm free and retook my seat. I waited for him to do the same and said, “Yes. No. I mean, I’m not a prude, but I don’t want that language anywhere near him.”
He tugged on his chiseled chin. “So, you want him to learn about sex from his friends at school and not talk to you about it.”
Other children, no. I closed my eyes. This wasn’t something I wanted to deal with yet. And besides, I was now a full-time responsible parent and I suppose one day needed to rationally explain the birds and the bees.
“I…don’t know. It’s not like my parents talked to me about it.” I glanced at the wall like that might focus me. “But I don’t want him to get diseases, make bad choices, or die of heartbreak, because your husband died, and hurt his own children. Did yours?”
Rocking Player: Single Mom Second Chance Romance (Steel Series Book 2) Page 3
