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Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance

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by Tabatha Kiss




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Bad Baller Books

  Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1: Daisy

  Chapter 2: Daisy

  Chapter 3: Hunter

  Chapter 4: Hunter

  Chapter 5: Daisy

  Chapter 6: Hunter

  Chapter 7: Daisy

  Chapter 8: Hunter

  Chapter 9: Daisy

  Chapter 10: Hunter

  Chapter 11: Daisy

  Chapter 12: Hunter

  Chapter 13: Daisy

  Chapter 14: Hunter

  Chapter 15: Daisy

  Chapter 16: Daisy

  Chapter 17: Hunter

  Chapter 18: Daisy

  Chapter 19: Hunter

  Chapter 20: Daisy

  Chapter 21: Hunter

  Chapter 22: Daisy

  Chapter 23: Hunter

  Chapter 24: Hunter

  Chapter 25: Daisy

  Chapter 26: Hunter

  Chapter 27: Daisy

  Chapter 28: Hunter

  Chapter 29: Daisy

  Chapter 30: Hunter

  Chapter 31: Daisy

  Chapter 32: Hunter

  Chapter 33: Daisy

  Chapter 34: Hunter

  Epilogue

  Bonus Book: Whiplash

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Whiplash: A Sports Romance

  Chapter 1: Junior

  Chapter 2: Eliza

  Chapter 3: Junior

  Chapter 4: Eliza

  Chapter 5: Junior

  Chapter 6: Eliza

  Chapter 7: Junior

  Chapter 8: Eliza

  Chapter 9: Junior

  Chapter 10: Eliza

  Chapter 11: Junior

  Chapter 12: Eliza

  Chapter 13: Junior

  Chapter 14: Eliza

  Chapter 15: Junior

  Chapter 16: Eliza

  Chapter 17: Junior

  Chapter 18: Eliza

  Chapter 19: Junior

  Chapter 20: Eliza

  Chapter 21: Junior

  Chapter 22: Eliza

  Chapter 23: Junior

  Chapter 24: Eliza

  Chapter 25: Junior

  Chapter 26: Eliza

  Chapter 27: Junior

  Chapter 28: Eliza

  Chapter 29: Junior

  Chapter 30: Eliza

  Chapter 31: Eliza

  Chapter 32: Junior

  Epilogue

  Bonus Book: Johnny Deeper

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Johnny Deeper: A Sports Romance

  Chapter 1: John

  Chapter 2: Rose

  Chapter 3: John

  Chapter 4: Rose

  Chapter 5: John

  Chapter 6: Rose

  Chapter 7: John

  Chapter 8: Rose

  Chapter 9: John

  Chapter 10: Rose

  Chapter 11: John

  Chapter 12: Rose

  Chapter 13: John

  Chapter 14: Rose

  Chapter 15: John

  Chapter 16: Rose

  Chapter 17: John

  Chapter 18: Rose

  Chapter 19: John

  Chapter 20: Rose

  Chapter 21: John

  Chapter 22: Rose

  Chapter 23: John

  Chapter 24: Rose

  Chapter 25: John

  Chapter 26: Rose

  Chapter 27: John

  Chapter 28: Rose

  Epilogue

  Also by Tabatha Kiss

  About the Author

  HOME RUN BABY

  A SPORTS ROMANCE

  TABATHA KISS

  Copyright © 2016 by Tabatha Kiss

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form

  without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All characters detailed within are eighteen years of age or older.

  No characters engaging in sexual acts are blood-related.

  WARNING: This novel contains explicit descriptions of

  erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive,

  including perverse adult language.

  Reader discretion advised.

  tabathakiss.com

  To sign up for exclusive updates on

  upcoming novels, giveaways, and more (plus a FREE book!),

  please click here: hyperurl.co/tabathakiss

  For a super limited time, your Kindle edition of Home Run Baby

  includes Whiplash and Johnny Deeper as bonus reads!

  Home Run Baby ends at 35%

  Thanks for reading!

  xoxo

  TK

  The Bad Baller Books

  Irresistible Stand-alone Sports Romances

  from Tabatha Kiss!

  Book 1: Whiplash (Junior and Eliza)

  Book 2: Johnny Deeper (John and Rose)

  Book 3: Home Run Baby (Hunter and Daisy)

  HOME RUN BABY

  A SPORTS ROMANCE

  BY TABATHA KISS

  Love. Marriage. Babies.*

  *Not necessarily in that order.

  I got hit in the head with a baseball. A damn home run. I didn’t even see it coming.

  The next thing I know, I’m in the hospital with a headache but that’s not all…

  There’s an idiot doctor standing in front of me telling me I’m pregnant.

  Who’s the father, you ask? The damn baseball player that hit the ball.

  Hunter Novak. Home Run Hunter himself — but that’s not the name he gave me when he took me home with him from that bar six weeks ago.

  Call it coincidence. Call it fate.

  I call it a pain in my ass.

  For the first time in my life, I’m responsible for someone other than myself. This baby deserves to grow up with a real family. It can’t get that from me and my one-night stand. Or can it?

  I barely know Hunter. We skipped to the end before but now we have to start from the beginning.

  How is that even possible now that a tiny heartbeat is involved?

  For Mom

  (just skim over the parts

  about blowjobs and stuff, k?)

  Chapter 1

  Daisy

  “Smile, everybody!”

  The Johnson family stares at me with stiff postures and fake grins. Father and mother. Son and daughter. Just the perfect little picture of the perfect little American family. I might even add a white picket fence into the background later to really sell the illusion.

  I take the photo. The flash makes all of them blink, which is good because it’ll be more difficult for them to see my eyes rolling if all they see is spots.

  “That was awesome, you guys,” I say. “I think we got it.”

  Their posture instantly sinks and the teenagers withdraw their phones from their pockets.

  “Can we take a look?” the mother asks me.

  “Of course.” I point across the studio to the computers in the corner. “Head on over and I’ll meet you there before we print.”

  She gives a kind smile and taps her oblivious children on the shoulders to guide them all across the room.

  I detach the camera from the tripod and slide out the memory card.

  “Hey, Daisy.”

  I turn around, throwing on a happy face for my boss as he lingers over my shoulder. “Hey, Malcolm. What’s up?”

  He doesn’t even glance up from his clipboard
. “I need you to take that open shift on Sunday.”

  “Um…” My chest tightens. “Actually, I have the weekend requested off… Remember? My sister is coming to visit.”

  Malcolm’s lazy eyes flick over at me, just as dead inside as I feel even having to argue with him about this. “Trey has an emergency. I need you to take the shift.”

  Fucking Trey. Malcolm’s nephew. I wonder what emergency they’ve come up with this time to cover up the fact that they’re getting high and playing video games.

  “Okay, but…” I sigh. “Isn’t there someone else that could take it?”

  “You’re the only one free.”

  “But I’m not…”

  He leers at me a little longer. “Daisy, I’m bending over backwards just giving you Saturday off. You know what it’s like here during May. Dads and Grads.”

  I bite my cheek, choking down the urge to crack his head open with this camera. “I get it,” I nod. “Sorry, Malcolm. It’s fine. I can take the shift.”

  He says nothing as he makes a quick mark on his clipboard, most likely checking off Ruin Daisy’s Pathetic Life scrawled between Eat a Shit Burrito and Don’t Do Laundry for Three Weeks and Hope No One Notices.

  I walk off and throw on another smile as I join the Johnson family by the computers.

  If you had told me five years ago that I’d still be working in this freaking portrait studio now, I would have insisted you were crazy. There was just no way. I was young and bright. Blonde and hot. The sky was the limit for me. This job was supposed to be first base; just the first stop on the path to home plate. I’d work here for a while, learn all I could, and build up a portfolio to send off to bigger, better employers before waving my middle finger at this place and driving off into the sunset.

  I guess I was a touch too optimistic.

  At least, I’ll have my sister to vent at this summer. Nearly three months of mayhem with Rose should be enough to get me through life under Malcolm’s thumb until she goes back to grad school in the fall.

  Also, it’s baseball season. My favorite season.

  And no one is gonna ruin that for me.

  ***

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to find a new text from Rose.

  Just landed! See you soon!

  I take a deep breath, feeling the weight slide off my shoulders as I blow it back out. Stress leaves with it and I forget all about Malcolm and Trey and that shitty photo studio job. The next few days will be nothing but rest and relaxation with my twin.

  A few minutes later, a line of people walk out of the gate and I stand up from my chair in the crowded airport lobby. I offer soft apologies as I push through to the front, sliding beneath the arms of tall people towering over me. Most move to the side as I pass, likely assuming I’m a lost child at first but I guess that’s one perk of being petite.

  I navigate to the front of the crowd and wait for my own face to appear in the door.

  Finally, there she is, drifting through the doorway with her suitcase rolling behind her. She finds me instantly and her face splits with a huge smile, just as mine does as we both wave at each other.

  Blonde hair, check! Glasses, check!

  Giant, footballer boyfriend… check?

  I see him walking beside her and I cringe on the inside.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  “Daisy!” Rose throws her arms around me and squeezes tight.

  “Rose!” I close my eyes, returning the hug for as long as possible before I have to deal with the tag-a-long.

  We pull away and I look at him.

  “Hey, halfback,” I greet.

  “Hello, Daisy,” he smiles.

  John Kirby. My sister’s boyfriend and newly-recruited professional football player. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, textbook handsome face. Not my type but my twin and I have always had different tastes in men.

  “It’s nice to see you,” I say, “but what are you doing here? I thought Rose was coming alone this summer…”

  Rose flicks my arm with a sharp nail before stepping closer to him. “I am,” she says. “John just came with me to make sure I made it safely. He’s flying back on Sunday since he has to start training on Monday.”

  I smirk at him. “How sweet.”

  “And…” She slides an arm around his back and he clings to her, too. “We have some news.”

  “Really?” I swallow. “What is it?”

  “You want to tell her now?” he asks her.

  Rose nods and my gut sinks a little lower.

  “Tell me what?” I ask.

  They look at each other, their eyes shimmering with disgusting love, and I know exactly what she’s about to say before she even opens her mouth.

  “We’re engaged!”

  She whips her left hand forward and presents that sparkling diamond at me.

  I stare at it without moving, without blinking, and without thinking, either.

  “Daisy?”

  I clear my throat. “Wow,” I chuckle, forcing some form of emotion to the surface. “That’s amazing! Congratulations!”

  Rose smiles, pleased with the reaction as she detaches from John. “I know it’s pretty sudden, but…”

  I wave a hand. “No, not at all. Of course, you guys were gonna end up together. No surprises here…”

  She squints at me but I step forward to hug her again and bury my face in her shoulder so she can’t easily decipher what I’m really thinking.

  Ah, crap.

  Chapter 2

  Daisy

  I sneak out into the hall just after midnight to grab my keys.

  Rose and John have made themselves comfortable on the futon in my living room, cuddling in the dark and snoozing softly. It’s been a long night for them, after all. The three of us sitting around, chatting about their upcoming wedding and her education and his football career while I emptied the last of my whiskey reserves and pretended not to be screaming inside.

  I take off into the night with my phone and run a search for the nearest bar. Luckily, there’s one two blocks down. I’ve never been there before but I’m not picky — even if it is some rundown place in the basement of some fancy restaurant.

  Unlike the eatery above it, this place is so empty, I think for a moment it might be closed. Dim, moody lighting blends with the red wallpaper, creating an atmosphere that I can really only describe as eerily romantic.

  I turn to leave but the bartender silently waves me in from behind the bar.

  He catches my eyes long before I fully adjust to the quiet lighting. It’s not easy to look away from him, honestly. He’s no older than I am, mid-twenties and average in height. The black shirt he wears hides a toned physique and I catch the edges of a few tattoos peeking out on his biceps.

  I sit down at the bar and he drifts over to me.

  “What can I get you?” he asks.

  “Whiskey sour, please,” I say, withdrawing my wallet to find my ID. I flash it at him and his gaze barely snipes it as he pulls a clean glass out from beneath the counter.

  As he fixes my drink, I take a closer look at him. Bright, green eyes. Caramel-colored hair that’s just about an inch too long but he makes it work. It wouldn’t surprise me if he moonlights as a model or something — but maybe that’s just wishful thinking…

  He glances up at me and I quickly look away. I focus instead on the old man sitting at the other end of the bar, hunched over a crossword puzzle with a tiny pencil in his wrinkled fingers. I spin around in my stool and stare into the empty corners of the place until I hear my glass touch the counter.

  “Here you go.”

  I face forward and nod without looking at him. “Thanks.”

  He walks away, drifting back over to the other side to check on the old man while I waste no time downing my entire drink.

  I glance around, noticing the magazine articles framed on the walls. Mostly local history. Nothing to get excited about.

  I set the glass down and lean forward to rest
my head on my arm.

  Rose is getting married.

  Of course, she is.

  With closed eyes, I try to force the nerves out and listen to the dull music piping through the crackling jukebox in the corner.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  I open my eyes and raise my head to find that hot bartender standing in front of me. “Do they train bartenders to ask that?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Really?”

  “Most drunks just want someone to listen to what they have to say,” he says. “And most bars want to keep them talking for as long as possible because the longer they sit on that stool…”

  I raise my empty glass. “The more booze they imbibe.”

  He takes the glass and sets it in front of him to refill it. “Money in the register. Tips in the jar.”

  “That’s pretty skeevy.”

  He shrugs. “It’s just business.”

  I nod, watching him as he mixes my drink again. “So, I’m a drunk, eh?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he chuckles.

  I point a finger. “You implied it.”

  “Maybe. Would that also imply that you want someone to listen to what you have to say?”

  “I don’t know.” I kick the leg of my stool with my heel. “This ancient stool feels awfully flimsy to be a soapbox.”

  “It’s worth a shot.”

  “Do you actually enjoy listening to the slurred ramblings of anonymous, inebriated, bar patrons?”

  “Are you always this wordy when you’re tipsy?”

  “Only on Thursdays.”

  “It’s Friday.”

  “Well, shit.”

  He laughs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the bar between us. “So, I ask again. Wanna talk about it?”

  I glance at the old man down the bar again before letting out a stiff sigh. “My sister is getting married.”

  “And you’re not happy about it?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He slides to the left and points over his shoulder, gesturing to the mirrored wall behind him.

  I look forward into my own pale face and black-lined eyes, noting the deep frown and the rather heavy cloud weighing down on my shoulders.

 

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