by Ann, Natalie
Change Up
Natalie Ann
Copyright 2020 Natalie Ann
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without a written consent.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Author’s Note
Also by Natalie Ann
Where to find Natalie Ann
Blurb
Prologue
1. Hopes And Dreams
2. Golden Boy
3. Out Of Sight
4. Full of Questions
5. Starstruck
6. Time And Place
7. Lay The Law Down
8. Ugly Truth
9. Beyond Words
10. Know The Number
11. Sticky Situations
12. Sneak A Touch
13. Just Bragging
14. Foreseeable Future
15. Plant Herself
16. The Lecture
17. Target Practice
18. Watering The Roots
19. Not Relevant
20. By His Side
21. Flowing And Encouraging
22. Drew Her Closer
23. Unwanted Attention
24. Meet Your Parents
25. Turning The Tide
26. This Was Personal
27. It Matters
Epilogue
Intro to Starting Over
Also by Natalie Ann
Where to find Natalie Ann
Author’s Note
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Also by Natalie Ann
The Road Series-See where it all started!!
Lucas and Brooke’s Story- Road to Recovery
Jack and Cori’s Story – Road to Redemption
Mac and Beth’s Story- Road to Reality
Ryan and Kaitlin’s Story- Road to Reason
The All Series
William and Isabel’s Story — All for Love
Ben and Presley’s Story – All or Nothing
Phil and Sophia’s Story – All of Me
Alec and Brynn’s Story – All the Way
Sean and Carly’s Story — All I Want
Drew and Jordyn’s Story— All My Love
Finn and Olivia’s Story—All About You
Landon Barber and Kristen Reid- All Of Us
The Lake Placid Series
Nick Buchanan and Mallory Denning – Second Chance
Max Hamilton and Quinn Baker – Give Me A Chance
Caleb Ryder and Celeste McGuire – Our Chance
Cole McGuire and Rene Buchanan – Take A Chance
Zach Monroe and Amber Deacon- Deserve A Chance
Trevor Miles and Riley Hamilton – Last Chance
Matt Winters and Dena Hall- Another Chance
Logan Taylor and Kennedy Miles- It’s My Chance
The Fierce Five Series
Gavin Fierce and Jolene O’Malley- How Gavin Stole Christmas
Brody Fierce and Aimee Reed - Brody
Aiden Fierce and Nic Moretti- Aiden
Mason Fierce and Jessica Corning- Mason
Cade Fierce and Alex Marshall - Cade
Ella Fierce and Travis McKinley- Ella
Fierce Family
Sam Fierce and Dani Rhodes- Sam
Bryce Fierce and Payton Davies - Bryce
Drake Fierce and Kara Winslow – Drake
Noah Fierce and Paige Parker - Noah
Love Collection
Vin Steele and Piper Fielding – Secret Love
Jared Hawk and Shelby McDonald – True Love
Erik McMann and Sheldon Case – Finding Love
Connor Landers and Melissa Mahoney- Beach Love
Ian Price and Cam Mason- Intense Love
Liam Sullivan and Ali Rogers - Autumn Love
Owen Taylor and Jill Duncan - Holiday Love
Chase Martin and Noelle Bennett - Christmas Love
Zeke Collins and Kendall Hendricks - Winter Love
Troy Walker and Meena Dawson – Chasing Love
Jace Stratton and Lauren Towne - First Love
Gabe Richards and Leah Morrison - Forever Love
Blake Wilson and Gemma Anderson – Simply Love
Brendan St. Nicholas and Holly Lane – Gifts of Love
Paradise Place
Josh Turner and Ruby Gentile – Cupid’s Quest
Harris Walker and Kaelyn Butler- Change Up
Philip Aire and Blair McKay – Starting Over
Where to find Natalie Ann
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Blurb
Can physical therapist Kaelyn mend her shattered trust in men while trying to heal Harris’s broken dreams?
After throwing his first no-hitter, pitcher Harris Walker and his teammates went out for a night on the town. Little did he know it’d be the last strike he’d ever throw professionally. He returns home with the hopes of finding a new life, if only he can figure out how to put all his hopes and dreams behind him.
Kaelyn Butler has always wanted to make her own mark in the world regardless of the money behind her name. Her choice in men has left her heartbroken more times than she cares to admit. Skittish and distrustful of men? Yes, she is! So when Harris Walker shows up in her office for physical therapy and flirts with her, the last thing she has time for is the sweet-talking hottie. Then why does she find herself making poor choices again?
Prologue
Harris Walker jogged out to the mound of Citi Field in the bottom of the ninth. His blood was pumping; the fatigue that should have set in was nowhere to be found.
He was in a pitcher’s dream right now. What everyone hoped for. What they wanted to achieve and very few would.
Three more outs and he’d have his no hitter.
At thirty years old he knew he wouldn’t have too many more years in his pitching career.
A top prospect at just seventeen, he didn’t really develop until about five years ago. He didn’t get to show what he was made of and many started to write him off.
But, bam, out of nowhere, two years ago he grabbed control of his fastball, he mastered his changeup, and his curveball seemed to throw everyone off.
He was the pitcher players didn’t want to face. He signed one hell of a five-year contract to stay with the Mets when plenty were willing to pay him more.
Why? Because he was born and raised in Upstate New York and he’d been a Mets fan his whole life. Talk about a dream come true.
They drafted him, they put their faith in him, they gave him what he wanted in his contract. He was staying loyal because that’s who Harris Walker was.
And now he was going to prove to the owners he was everything they thought he was. He was going to show his pitching coaches they had every reason to believe in him.
Ace Reynolds got up to bat for the Atlanta Braves. He was seventh in the lineup and Harris couldn’t have planned this any better.
First pitch straight down the middle, ninety-eight miles an hour. Ace swung, missed, the crowd went nuts. Harris was like a squirrel going after those nuts himself, but he’d always been in control internally and he wasn’t letting anyone see the excitement he was feeling.
Third pitch, fastball down the middle, swing and—shit. Ace connected. Harris watched as the ball sailed into center field, but there was Johnny Reed, racing, diving, and catching it. One out. Two more to go.
Second batter only took three pitches too, pop fly that the catcher nabbed, and they were down to the last out.
The Braves put in a pinch hitter. Miller Smith who was on a hot streak. Bastards. They were already down three to one. Come on.
Harris didn’t care. Well, he did, but he wasn’t showing it.
He wiped his sweaty hand on his pant leg, he took a deep breath, and then wound up and threw a slider. Way out of the strike zone, but Miller swung, strike one.
The crowd was in a frenzy. The stadium felt like it was rocking.
He was going for speed. He wanted to prove he still had it with a hundred and five pitches down tonight.
Fastball, here it comes.
Miller connected, line drive, right at Harris, but not close enough for him to dive and catch it. He didn’t need to worry, because the second baseman had his back, plucking it right up over his head and bringing it in.
His teammates raced him on the mound, everyone slapping him on the back. The tears were rolling down his face and he didn’t give one shit about it.
He was man enough to cry over throwing the best game of his life.
And three hours later when he and Johnny and a few others were tossing back shots in a bar in downtown Manhattan, he was living the dream.
Women were hanging out around them, many rubbing against him...whispering in his ear. Yeah, he could go home with any of them, but he didn’t have plans on it.
He wanted to celebrate with his buddies. They had a game tomorrow and though he wasn’t playing, the rest of the team was.
Matt Greene, the Mets’ babysitter as they called him, walked over between him and Johnny. “Time to pack it up, boys. There’s a game tomorrow.”
“I’m not playing,” Harris said.
Johnny laughed. “Lucky shit. You play once every five games, get all the money, and more than half the chicks.”
Harris slapped Johnny on the back. “You like being my wingman, admit it.” The “half the chicks” was a running joke since many knew Harris barely took a woman up on an offer.
“Some wingman you are. We are both going home to empty beds tonight.”
The two of them laughed and followed Matt out of the bar and to his SUV. Matt was a good guy, just doing his job, making sure the players stayed out of trouble.
“Shotgun,” Harris called. “Since I’m the man of the hour.”
“You’re the man, all right,” Johnny said. “Ride in the front. I’ll just stretch out back here behind Matt anyway. You always push the seat back so far that the rest of us are squished. You aren’t the only one over six foot, you know.”
“Ah, but I’ve still got four inches on you,” Harris said, climbing in and putting his seatbelt on.
They were driving back to the building that he and Johnny both lived in. Not only were they teammates but darn close to best friends as well, always riding back and forth to Citi Field and the airport together.
Just blocks from their place, they were sitting at a red light when Harris caught a flash out the right corner of his eye. Headlights coming fast and nowhere to go, then the pain as it slammed into his door.
Nothing else after that. The rest was just darkness.
1
Hopes And Dreams
“Are you sure you’re okay, Harris? This is a big house and I can stay with you.”
The last thing he needed was his mother hovering over him. Not even his father, who was standing back and rolling his eyes.
“I’m fine,” he said. “The movers brought everything in and set it up. I’m on the first floor, not that stairs are really a problem anyway.”
The boot was coming off his right ankle this week if he had his say. He knew his broken ankle was healed. That was the least of his injuries anyway.
Nope, the worst was his shattered elbow and forearm. Goddamn driver ran a red light and hit Matt’s SUV right in the passenger door, ending his career.
Maybe if he were twenty he could work his way back, but the plate in his forearm and the reconstruction of nerves in his elbow were making any comeback a long shot.
Ironic that the night he had the best game of his life also ended all his hopes and dreams.
“We’ll bring you to the doctor’s tomorrow,” his father said.
“That’s fine,” Harris said. He was wondering if moving back to his hometown of Colonie in Upstate New York was a mistake. That maybe he should have stayed in Manhattan.
The problem with that was, too many reminders of what he’d just lost.
Back home though, he might get smothered by family. He figured if he left the big city, he could have some peace and quiet here.
He’d been impulsive as he’d been most of his life with anything not related to baseball, and one day over a month ago, he looked online for houses and found this new build in Paradise Place just on the outskirts of Albany.
He’d known of the development growing up—it was hard not to with a name like that. It’d grown over the past twenty years more than he’d realized.
Someone arranged with Paradise Place to build a new home and then couldn’t afford it when it came time for the closing. Harris contacted the realtor Ruby Gentile, asked for a video tour, got a good look at it, and decided it was what he needed, closing through lawyers.
A moving company brought everything over yesterday while he supervised the placement of furniture. The little furniture he had was laughable in a house this big.
He’d gone from a thousand-square-foot apartment to a five-thousand-square-foot home. That didn’t even count the finished basement.
Money would fill the house when he had time. It’s not like he was going to live anywhere other than the first floor for the moment.
He had bedroom and living room furniture. A table and chairs in the little breakfast area and four barstools. That was more than enough for him. If the dining room and formal living room were empty, so be it, he wouldn’t be entertaining any time soon.
“Can I fix you some dinner before we go?” his mother asked.
“Leave Harris alone, Gina,” his father said. “You already put all the groceries away. He’s got enough food for a month.”
He laughed. “Thanks, Mom. I’m fine. I’ve been on my own in my apartment for weeks.”
“And you know we didn’t like that,” his mother argued.
After he’d been released from the hospital, his parents stayed with him for a short period. He’d slept on the big sectional since it was more comfortable anyway, his parents in his bedroom. He loved that they cared enough to drop their lives for him, but was just as happy when they left.
Then why did he come back home?
Because there was nothing left for him in Manhattan.
“But I survived just fine. Johnny was there if I needed anything.”
“How is Johnny doing?” his father asked.
“Fine. Same with Matt. Lucky me got the worst of it.”
Johnny had fallen asleep in the back. A concussion and some stitches, a sore body and he was good to be back on the field in two weeks. Matt broke his nose from the airbag deployment, got a concussion and not much more. The driver that hit them wasn’t going that fast, but Harris had his elbow on the window ledge, his fingertips on the top of the door. He’d always driven or ridden in the car like that. He never would again.
The placement of his arm when the car hit the door was probably what caused all the damage. But that was in the past and he’d never know one way or the other. Nothing could be changed now.
His parents exchanged glances back and forth and he knew that look. They wanted to say something to him but they held their tongues and he was happy about it.
“We’ll get out of your wa
y,” his father said. “Call if you need anything.”
“I won’t,” Harris said.
He’d been managing on his own with his left hand just fine. Getting this boot off his ankle would at least let him start to drive. With any luck he could get rid of the sling and brace soon enough too. Having the cast removed from his arm last week had been a blessing. At least he could take the brace off to shower now, even if it hurt like a bitch to move his arm just the slightest.
The minute his parents were out the door, he went to the kitchen and grabbed an energy drink. The one he had a million-dollar sponsorship with. Guess those commercials were going to be done now too.
He was just propping his feet up when his doorbell rang. He couldn’t even make it to the door before it opened and in walked his sister, Sarah.
“You should really lock your door,” Sarah said. She was two years younger than him and just as bossy as if she were the oldest of ten kids rather than being the baby of the two of them.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Don’t you have a job?”
“I just got out. Can’t you tell by my scrubs?” she asked.
His sister was an OR nurse. She’d been the first one grilling him on questions he couldn’t answer when he was back at his apartment six weeks ago.
