Mister Baller: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 2)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “Because I’ve got a secret weapon.”

  “What’s that?”

  I take her hand and place a soft kiss on her knuckles. “You.”

  35

  Iris

  Jude moves with a confident stride, guiding my mother and me along the stone path to the backyard of the gorgeous contemporary ranch-style house. His shoulders are mighty broad in that black polo shirt and his hair is deliciously tousled from the breeze that whipped through the open top of his convertible.

  I feel cute in my cardigan, floral dress and kitten heels. I haven’t stepped on a scale in a while so I may just be imagining it, but I think I’ve lost a few pounds. Or maybe I’m starting to realize that it’s not a number I’ve been after. Maybe it was a feeling all along. This feeling.

  As usual, I’m nervous about showing up to a social gathering with people I’ve never met—because Faith is awesome, but her sisters could be monsters, for all I know—but my roomie’s fingers locked with mine makes me feel considerably calmer. He grins at me.

  I tried inviting Lexi and her husband to tag along with us. I thought it would be cool to make this a group thing. But Cannon has another weekend business trip—something to do with some new non-profit organization they’re setting up—and Lexi is flying with him.

  My backup plan was Penny, but she’s training new staff at the Frosty Pitcher and Jessa's with Callie today. My mom is basically the only person who’s off work on this Sunday afternoon, so here we are.

  She’s been attentively tuned in to every grin, every touch, every freakin’ word Jude and I shared during the ride down here. When we got out of the car and he reached for my hand, I swear my mother literally clicked her heels together with excitement.

  Who am I kidding? I wanted to click my damn heels, too.

  Because the man never shies away from physical affection, publicly or behind closed doors. This is so new to me. I guess I always sort of thought that your attraction to someone was a thing people kept private. I definitely was never the kind of girl to wear my desire for a man on my sleeve. But being around this man makes me feel freer about displaying my attraction, too.

  My mother is deliriously excited at the prospect of me spending time with him. I had to remind her four times before we arrived that Jude and I are just friends. Although this thing between us definitely feels like ‘more’, we haven’t had that conversation yet and I don’t want to get ahead of myself only to be disappointed.

  A few of the Paragons hang around in the sprawling backyard with their wives and girlfriends. I hang back in Jude’s shadow, clutching the bouquet I showed up with as a gift for Faith.

  I allow Jude to say hellos and make introductions as we wander through the groups cluttered around the deck and lawn. There’s Knox and Jace, who I met a few weeks back when they showed up on my doorstep. Jace is extra rowdy and potentially wasted while Knox quietly grips his beer and makes hilarious snarky comments low under his breath. The guys are so different personality-wise, but they both make me laugh, so I decide that I like them.

  There are a couple other footballers I haven’t met before. They made the trip down from Iowa for a little booze and team-bonding on their weekend off.

  Mom finds a food table and sets down the potato salad she showed up with, then she wanders off, always content to do her own thing. I definitely didn’t inherit her peopling genes.

  “Who’s your mom talking to?” Jude leans away from his conversation to ask privately into my ear.

  I turn to find her in a group with a few older men. She’s clearly the center of attention, flirting and laughing like nobody’s business. I spy the beer bottle in her hand.

  “Oh, God,” I groan. “I should have left her in the car.”

  I’m only half-teasing. It’s always been like this. I can’t take her anywhere without her hitting on some stranger. She’s at her absolute worst at the grocery store.

  I apologize to Jude and the couple we’re chatting with, breaking away from them to go handle my mother. We just met these people and I don’t want mom’s behavior getting out of hand.

  But first, I’m gonna need a drink. I make a last minute detour and find the cooler. Just as I’m prying open the lid, a hand falls on my shoulder. “Lily, where have you—”

  When I jump and turn to face the gorgeous redhead behind me, her words abruptly cut off.

  “Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. I thought you were Lily.” The woman walks away with a heated blush on her cheeks.

  I shrug off the encounter and grab a can of hard lemonade. By the time I’m cracking open my drink, I don’t see my mother anymore. I walk around the yard a bit and finally spot her by the grill, laughing with a new group of guys who aren’t quite young enough to be her sons but definitely aren’t old enough to be my next step-daddies. Jeez, mom.

  I only make it a few steps in that direction before I see someone waving at me out the corner of my eye. “Lily!” The guy is headed straight for me, until a few feet away, he halts. “Oh. My bad. From across the yard, you looked like Lily.”

  “So, I’ve heard,” I’m left mumbling to myself as the stranger walks off.

  Finally, I make it to my mom. Just in time to hear the tail end of a conversation I wish I hadn’t…

  My mother lifts her cleavage then puffs up her blonde curls with her hands. “Always in the mood for corn on the cob.” She licks her lips at the guy handling the grilled vegetables. “Al-ways in the mood for corn on the cob.”

  The beginnings of a headache crops up between my eyebrows.

  The man gives her a confused blink as he hands one her way. “Uh, okay…Butter’s on the table with the condiments, ma’am.”

  She notices me approaching and a wide smile dashes across her face. “Iris, meet everyone,” my mom says, sweeping her hand toward the three of four strangers she’s been chatting with. “Everyone, meet my Iris. She’s here with Jude.” I roll my eyes at her insinuation. She’s going to get me in trouble.

  I give an awkward smile then squeeze her shoulders, guiding her toward the other side of the deck. “Mother…” I hiss sternly in her ear.

  A syrupy smile pulls her flawlessly air-brushed face. "Yes, darling?"

  "Remember that little discussion we had this morning? About—y’know—sexual harassment and such?”

  She rolls her eyes like I’m the annoying parent in this scenario.

  “I heard there’s apple cobbler inside. Why don’t we grab a slice?” I coax her, pushing her forward.

  I catch sight of Jude, hanging out in the shade of an old oak tree with some of his teammates. He’s laughing and talking animatedly, the center of attention.

  Our eyes meet, and even in the midst of all the attention he’s getting, he takes a moment to grin and send me a wink. I blush.

  He’s regained so much of his confidence since that last doctor’s appointment. I love seeing it. Those smiles of his are real now, not just put-on to appease the crowd.

  A group of women watch us shamelessly as we pass by. “Damn, girl. You really look like my friend, Lily,” one of them shouts.

  “Uh. Yeah,” I mumble, rushing my mom into the house before she makes another one of her comments.

  I can’t help but wonder who in the world this Lily is. We must really look alike if I’ve been mistaken for her three times in a twenty-minute span. It may be strange, but I’m sort of interested in meeting my doppelganger.

  My mother and I head inside Faith and Maxwells’s beautiful house. There’s an immaculate spread on the kitchen island. This is far fancier than I was expecting for an autumn barbeque. Hanging around these people continues to put my diet in jeopardy.

  A cheery voice comes up behind me and an arm loops around my shoulder. “Hello there,” Faith sings, wearing that huge grin of hers. “I’m so glad you and Jude could make it!”

  I can’t help grinning back. “Thank you for inviting me. Jude’s outside somewhere.” I squeeze my mother’s shoulder. “I brought my mom, Lucille, with us. I
hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course! Welcome!” And then my mother gets gobbled up by one of Faith’s monster hugs. “We always make too much food. You never know what you’ll get with a bunch of football players.”

  Our gracious hostess introduces us to her sisters, who are cleaning and setting up more food around the kitchen. I meet Grace first, an adorable pixie version of Faith. By her reserved smile and quiet demeanor, I’m guessing she’s the shy one. I feel a strong sense of camaraderie over that. But when the last Monroe sister turns around with her outstretched hand, something in my belly drops.

  “Hi, I’m Lily.” She grins but the smile quickly freezes on her lips.

  We blink at each other. It’s almost like I’m staring at my own face in the mirror.

  My mom gasps next to me. “Wow… You two look alike…”

  Grace leans in. Her gaze volleys back and forth between her youngest sister and me. She gives us both a thorough top-to-bottom inspection.

  Faith gives my mom a suspicious side-eye. “I’m about to say something really wild, so excuse me in advance…You wouldn't happen to know a very fertile man named Grant Monroe, would you?”

  I look to my mom, utterly confused. “What? I don’t know any Grant Monr…Oh shit!”

  My mother stands beside me, pale as a ghost. I grip her elbow, afraid that she’s about to faceplant into the Jell-O bowl.

  “Mom? Mom, what’s going on?”

  36

  Jude

  Damn, Kingston. I’m so pumped.”

  “Can’t wait to see you back out on the field.”

  “Next year is our fucking year, man.”

  The guys have all congregated around the tree that I’m leaning against. I feel good. This feels good. Light. Happy.

  The sun is shining, I’m surrounded by my teammates, and there’s a hot woman wandering around here with my teethmarks imprinted on her ass from last night.

  So, yeah. I’m feeling pretty fucking great.

  My legs are a bit tired, but I’m pushing through. I’m getting stronger every day even though my good leg is still doing twice the work.

  “That your girl, Kingston? The one you walked in with?” One of the backup linebackers points the neck of his beer bottle in Iris’s direction.

  “If not, I’m happy to give her a ride home,” one of the rookies dares to say. “Those tits are calling to me.”

  Cora takes an eyeful of Lucille. “Hell, I’d give her mom a ride, if the young one belongs to you, Kingston. Have you seen the ass on that woman?!”

  Christ, I nearly forgot how vulgar some of these kids are. They may be wearing men’s bodies, but they’re just clueless, little boys trapped inside.

  I point at each of them in turn when I speak. “To answer your questions—yes, she’s my girl. No, you can’t give her a ride home and you’d better keep your eyes off her tits. And, Cora, I won’t even dignify your comment with a response.”

  Laughter rises up in the crowd.

  My eyes drift around the yard as the good-natured banter fills the air. I’ve missed this—the razzing, the teasing. But I miss Iris more. From where I’m standing, I seek her out. When I find her standing in the back doorway to Maxwell’s house, I zero in on her expression. I frown.

  She’s surrounded by Faith and her sisters. Her shoulders are curled in and she’s as pale as a sheet. I think she might be shaking and I spot tears running down her cheeks.

  What the fuck?

  I slam my beer down on the nearest table. Then, I’m tearing across the yard to get to her. My heart slams against my chest, pounding double-time, as I weave through the crowd. I don’t know what happened, but I need to fix it.

  When I finally get to her, I grab her by the shoulders and shift her so her bright eyes are on me. “Iris, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  She blinks at me, her eyes dazed and unfocused. I don’t understand the look I see on her face and that scares me.

  Her pretty lips tremble when she whispers, “These are my sisters.” She glances around at the trio of equally shook blondes staring at her. "These are my sisters."

  37

  Iris

  My body is numb. My brain is a scratched disk on repeat, skipping back to the same thought every few seconds.

  Sisters…Father…Family…

  It’s like I grew up on one side of a coin. An only child, all alone. And today, I found out that—this whole time—there has been a whole different world on the other side of that coin. I feel lost with this new knowledge.

  I was raised by my single mom, and it was just us and Penny. I have never had a father figure in my life. I would question my mom all the time when I was younger. Who’s my daddy? Where is he? Everyone has a father, right? How come mine isn’t here with us?

  My mother would always tell me she didn’t know who my father was. And as I got older, I started believing her because in some ways, it made life easier. It didn’t seem so farfetched. My mom is gorgeous and the biggest flirt I know. It seemed incredibly plausible that she’d had a string of hookups in her younger days, and then couldn’t do her homework when it came to figuring out who had gotten her pregnant. It was easier thinking my father didn’t know about me than thinking he deliberately chose to abandon me.

  Growing up, I always was kind of awkward. I felt like the odd duck out with no father but I convinced myself that my mom was doing good under the circumstances, and there was never any real need for a father figure in my life.

  Money was tight, I suppose, but for most people, it is. When mom wasn’t busy falling in love with her newest fling, she was working long hours, launching her salon business. But I never held any of that against her. Until now, I guess.

  Now?

  Now, I don’t know what to think. Where did the lies end and the truth begin? What else is she not telling me?

  Jude is driving us home from the cookout. My mother is in the backseat.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she croons dramatically. “I should have told you.”

  I don’t know how to forgive her for 27 years of lies.

  It’s not like my father was abusive or in jail or a goddamned serial killer. The man has three other daughters who turned out wonderful. So, how bad could he have been?

  Sisters…Father…Family.

  I have three sisters who lived only an hour away from me for years. Sisters I could have grown up with and been close to. Sisters who could have been my life-long friends.

  But, no.

  My mom never bothered to tell the truth about my other family.

  “I gave you a good life. Right, baby girl? I was a good mother?” She keeps shooting half-excuses at me, and I’m not ready for it.

  I massage my throbbing temples. “Not today, Mom. Just…not today.”

  Jude gives a sidelong glimpse. Across the console, he drops a hand to my knee and squeezes.

  Mom sniffles and drags her fist across her red nose. “When you’re ready, I’ll answer all your questions. I promise, Iris. I owe you that.”

  The only response I’m willing to give her is a shake of my head. I have so many questions for my mother. Even if I were willing to talk to her right now, I wouldn’t know where to start. And I’m not even sure how to trust her at the moment.

  Sisters…Father…Family…

  The air in the car is painfully tense, but I barely remember the drive. One moment, Jude is dropping my mom off at her house and walking her to her door, and the next, he’s pulling his car into my driveway across town.

  Jude comes around the car and opens my door. With his hand low on my back, he leads me into the house. He steers me into my bathroom and turns on the water. The last thing I want is a shower. I want to curl up in my bed and stay there forever. But all arguments die on my lips. I’m too spent to protest.

  I stare at his beautiful face, his ticking jaw as he focuses solely on the task of removing each piece of my clothing from my depleted body. Then his own clothes hit the floor.

  I hav
e never been so grateful to another human. If he weren’t here right now, I don’t know what I would do. Probably pass out face down in my bed and not crawl out for 48 hours.

  He guides me into the shower, following close behind me. My mind is not functioning like it should, and it takes every last bit of strength to just put one foot in front of the other.

  Jude is the only thing that makes sense right now. His smell, his touch, his giant, yet calming presence. With him here, I feel safe to move forward without thinking. Because I trust that he won’t let me fall.

  I drop against the glass shower stall. My eyelids close. Jude slowly and sweetly lathers my body and my hair. He takes his time. His hands are perfection massaging bubbles into my arms and legs. He’s careful to not miss a single inch. I’m struggling not to melt.

  Once he’s washed the suds away, he turns me to face the tiled wall. His lips coming down the side of my neck, across my bare shoulder, and I make a needy embarrassing sound.

  It feels too good. How can he make me feel so good? Even in the middle of all this bad?

  He squeezes my heavy breasts, circles my taut nipples with his soapy fingertips.

  “Oh god, Jude…” Eyes shut against the spray of the water, my head falls back against his solid chest.

  His lips touch my ear. “Shhh, baby. Shhh. Just feel good. Let it feel good.”

  This man’s solid embrace feels like the only safe place in this cruel world.

  I want to stay cradled in his arms like this forever.

  38

  Jude

  Soft music. Body oils. Candles.

  I’m burning incense, y’all. Why the fuck not? There’s a first time for everything.

  And I can say with utmost certainty that this is the first time I’ve ever painted a woman’s nails. I’m perched at the end of Iris’s bed, with her tiny perfect feet in my lap. I’m brushing fire-engine red onto her delicate toes. I knew this color would look fucking sexy on her. Red brings out the vixen in Iris that’s hidden beneath those layers of innocent sweetness.