by Skylar Platt
YOUR GAME
Porter Sisters Series Book 3
By Skylar Platt
YOUR GAME
Porter Sisters Series Book 3
By Skylar Platt
Copyright © 2019 by Skylar Platt
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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CHAPTER ONE
MEREDITH
“No hiding in the dressing room either. Your opinion is irrelevant,” I shouted to my best friend, Olivia, as she stepped into the dressing room now lined wall-to-wall with a dizzying array of evening gowns. “I must see everything!”
We both wrinkled our noses at the first few and I could tell Olivia was already frustrated. Shopping has never really been her thing. It has always been mine. Shopping, planning, putting people and events together. It took me a lifetime of bouncing around various other careers and jobs to keep a roof over my head until finally. FINALLY, I had the courage, and maybe some luck and excellent timing that helped me launch my own event planning business and in two short years, I was the one everyone who was anyone wanted to plan their event. And in Washington D.C. nearly everything is an event.
A deep husky voice laced with just the hint of a Spanish accent drew my attention away from the task at hand. A male voice in this exclusive women’s dress boutique was unusual enough, but one that, well, manly, was way out of the norm.
I turned and took in the thick black hair, cut short, a goatee, not cut short, it was full and a bit unruly. I could see strong muscles rippling out from his t-shirt as he surveyed the dress bag the seamstress was discussing with him. The scene made me chuckle a bit. This rough biker-looking dude engaged in serious discussions of alterations to a ball gown.
He busted my gawking just a few moments later as the seamstress stepped away with the gown disappearing to the back. I grinned slightly and started to turn away when his face transformed with the sweetest boyish grin I’d ever seen. It dropped 10 years from what I’d guessed his age to be. His dark chocolate eyes filled with warmth and I about fell out of my chair.
Just then Olivia walked out and both our jaws dropped. This was the dress she had insisted on and I had been doubtful about. Dark teal, so dark it looked black, chiffon. It was a halter dress, blousy across the front, one sheer chiffon panel in the back, then it dropped to a short skirt with thin single layer-6-inch chiffon panels in the front which graduated to multiple layers across the back to something of a train.
“Wow!” Meredith said.
“Uh, yeah, what she said,” boyish grin said. Just then the seamstress returned and took him aside to show him something on the dress she was about to zip up into a bag for him.
“OMG!” Olivia mouthed to me before he turned his attention back to us.
“Stunning,” he said to Olivia.
“Good luck this weekend,” Olivia said quietly as he started to walk away.
“Thank you,” he flashed that smile again. “We might need a bit of that.” He looked at me and smiled again. “Bye.”
My insides did a few flips and I was completely baffled now. Was I supposed to know who this guy was?
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Anthony Palmiero, short stop for the Eagles, three-time league MVP, tied the record for most home runs in a World Series game.”
“Oh,” I said. “How do you know stuff like that? Well, I just thought he was hot.”
“How do you live in this town and not know stuff like that? And he is hot, very. And I made his jaw drop!” she giggled and returned to the dressing room with the winning dress.
CHAPTER TWO
MEREDITH
Once again it was the voice that got my attention and caused me to look up from my phone.
He had a ball cap on, which according to Olivia would have made him easier to recognize. But for me it was that voice. So deep and husky, strong and soothing. Something was going on, he either had no phone, or no wallet, or neither.
“I’ve got it,” I stepped in next to him, added my Grande Americano to the order and scanned the app on my phone. I looked up at him, emphasis on up, and winked. He seemed taller today. “Hi,” I said. It had been just over a week since we “met” at the boutique. I doubted if he would recognize me.
“Thank you,” he said, unleashing that grin. “I thought my phone was in my pocket.”
“I hope it’s not lost.”
“You and me both,” he said.
We stood quietly waiting for our order for a moment when he turned to me. “I hope your sister bought that dress,” he said. “She looked amazing.”
“Oh my, she will be thrilled that you remembered. Yes, she did buy the dress and technically she is not my sister, best friend.”
“Really, you guys look…”
“I know, I know we get it all the time. Her real sister looks nothing like her, so much different that there has been a running family joke that Janice was given the wrong baby to take home. But Olivia and I met in college and became instant best friends and I essentially became part of the family and the three of us call each other sisters.”
“Maybe there was a baby switch, but the Universe guided you back to your real family,” he raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“Don’t laugh, we’ve actually thought that,” I smacked him on the arm and my tiny fist was met with a concrete bicep. “Oh shit, I’m probably not supposed to do that, you guys are in the midst of the playoffs or something aren’t you?”
“Yes, and if I can’t throw to first base tonight my agent will be hunting you down.”
We walked out into the warm autumn air together. I hated for our time together to end. There was no ring on his finger but I learned long ago that was not a valid indicator of marital status. Plus, he is an athlete, so he may not wear one anyway. “You owe me a coffee you know.”
He smiled down at me. “I definitely do.”
We stared at each other grinning like a couple of teenagers trying to say good night on the front stoop. That smile and the way it reached his eyes, tiny lines etched around them. He stepped closer to me. I swear I didn’t remember him being this tall. His shoulder touched mine he put his palm out and asked for my phone.
I watched him dial his number. He handed me the phone when his voice mail picked up. “Hi, it’s Meredith. You owe me coffee and I don’t intend to wait very long for payment. Call me.”
He laughed out loud at my message. “I will not make you wait,” he bent close to me as he said it softly, but did not make a move to leave. “How insane would you think I am if I kissed you right now?”
“Very,” I smiled.
“Hmmm,” he grinned back and nodded. Letting out a sigh he looked up and across the street at nothing in particular. I just stood there, staring at him, at that unruly goatee, his dark tanned skin, the stubble forming along his jaw between the goatee and his dark sideburns. My fingers twitched itching to reach up and touch it.
His eyes held a different sort of gleam when he turned his attention back to me. He wiped a strand of hair that wasn’t really there off of my cheek and let his fing
ers drift across my ear and down the side of my neck. My breath quickened. Our eyes remained locked and I parted my lips just in time for his to meet them, so lightly. The softness took my breath away and the gentle tease of his tongue sent a flood of heat to my panties.
He pulled away smiling wickedly leaving me breathless and smiling. I licked my lips and let out a deep sigh and watched his long legs stroll down the street.
Holy shit, what the hell just happened here? I laughed to myself and texted Olivia. Anthony Palmiero just kissed me!
I don’t think 30 seconds passed before my phone was ringing.
“I don’t even know where to begin with that?” She squealed into the phone so loudly I held the phone away from my ear to avoid damage to my eardrum.
“Yeah, well, me either. You will also be thrilled to know he remembered you, said he hoped you bought that dress.”
“No shit? Really!?”
I explained our encounter and decided I needed to get to work and blast the AC because I was either having a hot flash coming on or I was still having a reaction to that kiss.
CHAPTER THREE
ANTHONY
As I jogged out of the dugout for batting practice, I made myself count slowly to 10 before looking at my seats to see if she and Olivia were here yet. They were not.
I did my best to focus, doing all of the warmups I normally do before a game, and despite this being Game 2 of the Divisional Series, I treated every game the same. But apparently I was glancing at my seats more often than I thought and it was not going unnoticed.
“Who are you looking for bro?” Ryan, our first baseman asked.
“What? Huh, oh, nobody, why?”
“Bullshit,” he laughed tossing the ball over to the catcher who then returned the toss to me. “You’ve looked into the stands like 50 times since we came out here and you never do that.”
I shrugged about to put the brakes on the conversation saying the girls, meaning my daughters, were coming when she appeared and I just couldn’t contain the smile. She had on skinny jeans and one of my jerseys, and apparently the only size left in the souvenir shop was one that would actually fit me. It dwarfed her already small frame. Wearing it like a jacket swinging open over a team t-shirt, just when I thought she might be done, she clasped her hair in hands and slid the ponytail through the hole in the Eagles hat she had no doubt just purchased. Olivia was slightly more subdued in her fan fare with just the team t and hat.
She was beaming when I got to edge of the dugout and motioned them over. “Am I appropriately fan-girl geeked out?” She did a twirl to give me the full effect with my name emblazoned on her back. I was a goner. And wanted nothing more in this moment than to make that her name too. Good God I just met this woman but her spirit had already intoxicated me and I did not want to sober up.
“You look great,” I laughed. “Hi Olivia.”
“Hi,” Olivia said. “Thank you so much for this, it’s been years since I’ve been to a major league game and never a playoff game. This is great!”
“You are very welcome,” I turned my attention back to Meredith.
“So, are you going to hit a home run tonight?” She quipped, and suddenly held her breath as the innuendo hit her and pinked her cheeks.
“God, I hope so,” I grinned, winked at her and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. “The better question might be how many!”
Her blush deepened and she lowered her head trying to hide against my shoulder.
“Dad?”
My daughters have access to a pair of tickets whenever they want, but they’d told me they couldn’t make it tonight. I’d not warned either group of ladies about the other.
“Maddie!” I moved a safer distance away from Meredith. “I didn’t think you guys were coming.”
Maddie answered me all the while her eyes surveyed Meredith. “Tara really wanted to be here and Mom wouldn’t let her come on her own, so, here we are. Is that going to be a problem?” There was a bit of an unexpected edge to her voice and drama was not what I needed from her.
Madison is actually my step-daughter. She was 3 years old when I met her mother, my now-ex-wife, Lauren. I’d fallen very much in love with both of them and remained the only father Maddie had ever known. It took about an instant for Tara to lighten everything up when she breezed into the conversation and immediately stuck her hand out for Meredith.
“Hi, I’m Tara.”
“Meredith.”
“Nice to meet you. Are you sitting with us? Because if you are, that means you are very important, he never gives his tickets to anyone who isn’t family. So welcome!”
Now it was my turn to blush and lower my head. I stroked my face and goatee with my hand before returning my eyes to the scene before me. Meredith raised her eyebrows at me and smiled before allowing my 14-year-old peace-maker to drag her off to the seats and proceed to tell her God only knows what about our family.
“Who is this woman, dad?” Maddie, who completely embodies the 19-going-on-30 cliché, asked.
“Someone I want to know better, so please be nice, don’t scare her off,” I offered her the pleading look she has so often used on me to get what she wants.
“Fine,” she gave me a fist bump. “I love you.”
“I love you too!”
CHAPTER FOUR
MEREDITH
I’ll admit I had done some Googling to pass the time after meeting him at the boutique. But I really didn’t do much other than look at some photos. Today after the kiss, I dug a little bit deeper. Despite the fact that everything I read made it very clear that this entire franchise had been built around him and his contract is worth some staggering amount that I find ridiculous for an athlete no matter what, the impact he seemed to have on this city was mind-boggling.
None of that had me prepared to sit in the stadium surrounded by thousands of people who worshiped him. Jerseys with his number and/or name outnumbered anyone else on the team easily 3 to 1. The place erupted when he took the field and whenever he had a bat in his hand. It was surreal. A few days ago, I didn’t even know this man existed. A few hours ago he kissed me and now I’m sitting at a major league baseball park wearing a jersey with his name on it sitting next to his daughters.
“Is this at all weird for you?” I asked Tara.
“No, I mean, I don’t know anything else, he’s just my dad and he happens to be really, really good at this.”
She was right. He is. Even with my novice knowledge it was clear he controlled the field when he was on it. And at bat. He had this crazy stance and he came just shy of never settling in and then at just the right moment he lunged for the ball and BOOM! We all stood and watched it sail over the left-field wall. He shot a ball into space twice that night and had two more RBIs and the Eagles dominated the game.
Olivia is the sports fan of the family. Natalie is a fan of athletes. Me, well, I always thought pro athletes were over-paid prima-donnas who felt entitled and believe they could live by a different set of rules or even moral code than the rest of the world.
I’d been to games before. Sat in the stands enjoyed a beer and sunshine and stood and cheered appropriately. But this, this was so different. I noticed this subtle communication and dance they all had when on the field. Baseball has always struck me as an odd snoozefest with a bunch of guys standing around waiting to see if a ball is hit their way. Other than the pitcher and catcher, I didn’t really give the rest of the guys credit for any defensive strategy. But with my eyes glued to Anthony. I started to pick up on the changes he made in his position based on the batter and the rest of the team followed suit. By the end of the game I was delighted when I could tell before he adjusted his position where he would be between second and third based on the hitter as the batting rotation returned to the top of the order.
I shared my revelation with Olivia. “See, not such a stupid game is it?” She laughed.
