Fast Baller

by Lulu Pratt

  “I… I know that I care for you and that deep down you care for me.”

  “Yes, I do. I am so sorry that you thought I betrayed you. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I am willing to spend the rest of my life telling you that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  I smiled. “I could get used to that.”

  He smiled. “Will you…”

  “I will.” I pulled him to me and embraced him. We kissed as though we felt we were to be fused together. I had never felt so close to another human being in my life. He was my other half, and finally I felt like things were complete. It was a feeling unlike anything I had ever experienced. Wonderful and joyous.

  He stumbled at the door, into me. His hand went behind my head and cradled me in his arms like a child who had been lost in the woods. I pulled him into the room and kicked the door closed, pulling him into my bedroom. Without a word, he pushed me backwards onto the bed, and I fell willingly, holding him close to me.

  “I know, I know,” I said. “Don’t say a word. Just hold me.”

  Harrison kissed me to stop me from talking. I smiled and held him as close as I could. I could feel his strength ebbing from his body as he fell into a sleep like a stone. The strange thing was that as I felt this, I, too, fell asleep, holding Harrison.

  The miracle, for me, was that all this hiding and all this impossibility had suddenly lifted, and I felt lighter than air. I floated above the bed, gazing at the perfection of this sleeping man who would be my other half forever, and I laughed in desperation. He was so beautiful, so perfect, so mine. Nothing would ever be the way it had been again. Ever. All the pain caused by ignorant parents, jealousy, anger, bitterness, competition, petty bureaucracy, and all the other things that came between a man and a woman had fallen by the wayside forever, and we had only love to tie us together. This was joy, this was happiness, this was satisfaction. This was true love.

  Epilogue

  SCARLET

  A YEAR AND A HALF LATER

  I WAS GETTING ready for the happiest day of my life — our wedding day. It was going to be a quiet affair, even though there was a lot of media interest given Harrison’s public proposal and the rumors swirling around our whirlwind romance.

  Fortunately, the backstory about my mother and Harrison’s step-father had not emerged. Chris had been good about keeping that secret, and Harrison was working with him on an autobiography that due to come out in a few months. Harrison had already written a foreword for Chris’s latest book on baseball that was a top seller.

  Although it would have been nice to have had the teams, both the Detroit Diamonds and the Toledo Sparks Plugs, and support staff to our wedding, we opted instead to have a huge party after the season as we figured it would be less newsworthy and better for the families. It was a good thing that we had gone with a rain check option for the venue, as Harrison took the team to the World Series. And, of course, they won in six.

  Perhaps, in some twist of fate, just days after Harrison moved up, Clay Carter had been benched for the rest of the season with the Spark Plugs with a rotator cuff injury. Apparently it wasn’t healing well and his future in baseball was suddenly very doubtful.

  “How are you feeling?” Mom asked as she fussed over my hair.

  “Nervous, but happy,” I replied. I’d thought about this day for years, but sometimes it seemed more likely I would walk on the moon than marry.

  “Make sure you eat something now, as you might not be able to for some time.”

  “Good idea. I guess that’s what you did.”

  Unbelievably, my mom had rekindled her romance with Roger. The night of Harrison’s proposal, Roger had tracked down my mother — still listed in the phonebook — and had chatted with her late into the night. My mom didn’t go into too many details about what they said that night, but they were married six months ago and my mom was happier than I ever remember seeing her.

  The marriage of my mom and Roger caused a minor scandal as he had been single for so long and people thought that they had met through us, but it quickly faded from the headlines.

  Apparently, Roger was a transformed man. Harrison couldn’t believe that he was the same person who raised him. Roger had acknowledged privately that I was his daughter. However, we all decided that to disclose this to a wider audience would be tricky, so we had kept that private for the time being. My own relationship with him as my father had been growing, and we were starting to get to know one another.

  Oksana had flown over to meet Harrison a year ago for the first time since she fled the country. I drove him to the airport to pick her up, and it was the first time I ever saw Harrison crying as he swept her into his arms. She was delightful and had a box of photographs to give him of his maternal family, including his two younger half-siblings.

  She was back for the wedding and was the soul of understanding about Roger and my mother, and said that so much had happened since then that she could forgive them. She had said every heartache was replaced with happiness, so if she had stayed with Roger she might not have had Harrison’s sisters, who also flew over for the wedding.

  A few hours later, dressed in white, my hair in a chignon, and carrying a posy of flowers, I was in front of our closest friends and families starting on the next stage of my life at the back of the little church in Detroit. Harrison was at the altar with Leduc as his best man. I could feel pricks of tears as I stood there for a moment, trying to capture everyone’s faces and the light and the sounds. My mom was there with Roger, Oksana with her daughters, a few members of the team, and everything was perfect.

  “Hey, I think they might start without you if you don’t hightail it down there,” Heidi whispered in my ear.

  I turned to my matron of honor and smiled. “You just want to get to the open bar,” and I followed her to the front.

  Harrison leaned in when I stood beside him, “You look perfect, Scarlet.”

  “You look great, too.”

  “Now, let’s get married and start our life together.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” begun the officiant and our life together started.

  Thank you!

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  Pretend Daddy

  I’m all about duty. To my country, my best buddy and now my little boy.

  I’m a single dad to the little boy I never knew existed until I got home.

  I don’t know anything about raising babies, the only thing I know is that I need a nanny.

  That’s when Ashley walks into my life.

  Her sweet curves and soft lips threaten to distract me, but I am duty-bound, I won’t cross the line.

  At least until I can’t resist the way she looks at me any longer.

  It’s more than the way she feels in my arms, it’s the way she’s making this house a home.

  And then the rug is ripped out from underneath us.

  Our pretend family is no more.

  But I’ve never backed down from a fight.

  I’m going to make us a forever family.

  *** A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***

  Chapter 1

  ASHLEY

  STARING AT THE framed posters lining the wall, I felt a deep sense of nostalgia for a memory too fresh in my mind. The most recent addition to the wall of Dr. Harris’ office was from our rendition of Rent, a dream role I’d studied weeks for. The smile on my face in the poster brought back the happy times from rehearsals. It was my largest role to date, one I’d dreamed of since enrolling at William Peace University.

  Now, it felt so much longer than a few weeks had passed sin
ce I was on the stage, under the lights I believed were made for me. Knowing it would be a very long time before I ever got back on stage, if ever, was heartbreaking. Everything appeared to be moving in slow motion, a nightmare playing out in real life.

  “Ashley? This is important.” Dr. Harris’ voice called me back to reality.

  Sitting in her black leather chair, I could see the stress and disappointment in the lines beneath her dark eyes. She had been the one to walk me through orientation three years prior, and now she would be the one to walk me out.

  “I’m listening,” I lied. It was too hard to focus when everything in my life was falling apart.

  I pushed my shoulders back, bracing myself for the reality I’d been avoiding. For months, I’d been struggling to juggle an unpredictable waitressing schedule with occasional babysitting gigs to try to make ends meet. While I’d been able to scrape together enough to pay my rent, food and other necessities, I hadn’t been as successful with covering my tuition.

  Every day, I dreaded going to class, constantly fearing the day Dr. Harris would pull me out of class as she had just an hour earlier. I was at my wits’ end. A tiny bit of gratitude bloomed in my chest knowing the juggling routine was over.

  “Ashley, is there any way you can clear your outstanding balance?” Dr. Harris asked, though I could see in her perfectly arched eyebrows she already knew the truth.

  She had heard my entire story the day I contemplated enrolling. After my father’s passing, he left me an inheritance with the hope that I finally follow my dreams of acting. As one of the best liberal arts schools in North Carolina, I was ecstatic to enroll at William Peace University.

  Whenever I walked through the beautiful campus, I imagined my father smiling down on me, happy I had made good on the head start he left me. Dr. Harris knew there was no one else in my corner. I’d been on my own since my father’s passing, having never had a relationship with my mother and being an only child.

  “No, Dr. Harris, there isn’t,” I mumbled, unable to look into her eyes. I was letting her down, after she had done so much to help me throughout my short-lived collegiate career. Many recent afternoons were spent in her office, unsure of how I could possibly manage all that was on my plate. Dr. Harris had gone above and beyond the duties as my advisor, rebuilding my confidence every time I felt myself beginning to crumble.

  “I thought so,” she said regretfully before tapping on her keyboard, her attention focused on the computer monitor sitting on the desk that separated us.

  A long pause gave me more time to contemplate how things had gone awry. Just six months ago, everything was going well. Happily enrolled in college, I was ecstatic when my then-boyfriend Nathan decided he too wanted a degree. After a bad car accident, he was awaiting an insurance payout that would more than pay for his college education.

  It seemed like a no-brainer to lend him the money so that he wouldn’t miss the enrollment period, but time would tell that he was never serious about following in my footsteps. After constant delays he couldn’t explain, I decided to pay a visit to the university myself. My stomach dropped as I learned that not only was he not a student, he had never paid a dollar of enrollment.

  Even worse, when I confronted Nathan, he laughed in my face, refusing to grant me the false explanation I wanted so badly. It was too awful to admit the truth, even when it stared me in my face. He had taken advantage of my kindness with no remorse. The relationship depleted as quickly as my bank account, as Nathan had taken all I had to give.

  “I think the best course of action from here is an indefinite break,” Dr. Harris continued after one last click. The hum of her printer served as the background music as our eyes finally met.

  There wasn’t disappointment, but sadness in her eyes. She was as hurt as I was that I would be leaving William Peace. I could feel it deep in my gut. My last cheerleader at the school, I would forever be grateful for all Dr. Harris had done for me throughout my years in college. As she slid the withdrawal slip onto her desk, I realized there was no reason to feel shame in front of her. Dr. Harris wanted only the best for me, and understood that graduation would always be a goal for me.

  I nodded, although it felt surreal. There was no way this was happening, not to me. Yet, here I was, leaning over the desk as my vision blurred with tears attempting to make out the details.

  The paper, still warm from the printer, explained that I could return to university as soon as I could settle my balance. I was welcome to return.

  “We can agree that this is an extremely unfortunate situation,” Dr. Harris said, and I swore I could hear her voice crack with emotion. “But it’s the best time for it to happen, if at all. The summer will give you enough time to develop a plan. And if you can find an extra job, maybe you can make enough to pay the past due balance and the fall term’s payment.”

  The optimism in her voice did nothing to spur confidence in what I knew was an impossible plan. The financial hole I was in was far too deep to climb out of in a matter of months. As I scribbled my name across the black line, I knew there was no way I would be returning anytime soon.

  “Thanks for everything, Dr. Harris,” I managed as I slowly rose to my feet before rushing to the door.

  “Ashley, I’m still here for you. My door is always open,” she called, and this time the emotion in her voice was undeniable.

  “Thanks, thanks for everything.” I forced a smile before turning away, down the hall that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.

  William Peace University was a small school, which made news travel much faster than I imagined it did at larger universities. It was only a matter of time before my friends learned of my fate, and I didn’t want to be there to face them. I wasn’t ready.

  A poster advertising the upcoming play I was slated to star in caught my eye at the end of the hallway. Staring at the large poster for the production of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, the first of what I knew would be a stream of tears fell down my cheek.

  It was unbearable to imagine the mess I’d left my peers in to scramble for a replacement in such a short time frame. I hated to think of causing them any stress or added pressure because I couldn’t carry my own weight.

  I’d let everyone down, including my father. As I quickly made my way to the front door, a neon flyer caught my attention. Hanging from the bulletin board was a short writeup. A single father was looking for a full-time nanny to care for his young son. With very few details, it didn’t seem promising, but still I tore one of the hanging tabs with a phone number.

  I would need a job if there was any way I could turn my disaster into a triumph. Dr. Harris was right, I needed to find a way to make money, and I knew that a full-time nanny position would be a great start. School had prevented me from fully committing to a family, but now that I had time I could take advantage of the gigs I always had to pass up.

  It was well known that working full time with a family could lead to a big payday, but you had to be available at all hours. Now I was, and I prayed there would be an opportunity on the other end of the call.

  Chapter 2

  JAKE

  THE LITTLE BOY ran to me with a rush of excitement that filled my chest with pride. It had only been a few weeks since I met him for the first time, but he took to me like he’d known me forever. His small body crashed against my legs as I fell back on the couch, his squealing laughter the applause to my exaggerated performance.

  “Daddy hurt!” he yelled to his mother.

  I still heard my new title with disbelief. When I’d left for my first tour in Iraq many years ago, it was easy because I was doing what I had always wanted to do – serve my country.

  Anna-Louise said that she had shown the little boy my photo every day, and he did know who I was the first day I came to visit her, although I had no idea he existed for the first two years of his life.

  “He’s fine. Go play.” She angrily waved the child on. It was clear she was agitated,
and I hated to imagine how she treated him when I wasn’t around. Every one of these meetings made me age a year faster. I could almost feel the gray growing in as I ran my hand through my hair, trying to restrain myself.

  Anna-Louise had never been a showstopper, but now she seemed to care less and less about her appearance. Her sandy hair looked unbrushed as she swayed on the loveseat across the room, her dark blue eyes looking at nothing in particular. Bags hung beneath her eyes, a sign that she wasn’t sleeping much. When I’d accompanied her to the doctor last week as she hadn’t arranged a babysitter, the physician prescribed a sleeping aid after learning she was struggling with insomnia. I wanted to help her, but I wasn’t sure how.

  Anna-Louise had been like a little sister to me growing up. Her older brother Justin was my best friend since high school. One late workout session years ago, he confided in me that he wanted to join the Marines, unaware that it was my dream too. Together, we’d gone through the most intense training, what most men couldn’t stomach.

  Justin was more like a brother than a friend. There wasn’t a secret between us. On our first day in Iraq, we made a pact that if anything happened to either of us, I’d take care of his kid sister and he’d look after my mom. I never thought I’d have to fulfill that promise, but Justin was killed in combat. The funeral was my one and only break home that tour of duty. Anna-Louise was a mess and I tried to comfort her. We slept together once. I had regretted it instantly.

  I was devastated over Justin, but determined to get back to my guys. After that tour ended I signed on for another year without question. At that point, I wasn’t ready to begin looking after Anna-Louise, and it was my biggest regret.

  By neglecting my promise to Justin, I missed the first two years of his nephew’s – and my son’s – life. Anna-Louise didn’t want to tell me about my son because there wasn’t much of a history between us and I was overseas. This was far from a childhood crush turned adult love story. We barely knew each other – Justin was the glue that connected us. Now, nothing seemed to fit like it should, as the pieces of the puzzle scattered throughout my life.