Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances
Page 33
“Are you serious, Camila?” Upon closer inspection, I note that the frayed Christmas lights are no indication of the previous tenants.
Evan turns from the driver’s seat and narrows his eyes. “It’s my mom’s place, dick. My brother and I are letting you live here rent free so unless you’ve got money to fork over somewhere else, shut your pie hole.”
Evan gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Camila turns in her seat, her eyebrows drawn down just like her lips. “Evan’s very protective of his mother. She was an alcoholic and refused to let the boys fix up the place. She passed away last year and Evan’s vetoed any ideas to change anything or sell the house. The fact that he’s letting you stay here is a big step in his grieving process. So, please, Jace, don’t be an asshole about this.”
I sigh and lean back in the seat, staring at my new “home.” I turn thirty this fall and I refuse to still be living at my parents’ so this is better than nothing. “Don’t worry, Cam, but is it alright if I fix a few things? I don’t want the roof falling in on me the first hard rain that comes through.” I mean, I am living in Florida now and rain is inevitable.
“That should be fine…just don’t say anything to Evan about it.”
Camila opens the door and I follow her inside. Luckily, the inside is much nicer than the out. The decor is a bit dated, nothing like my penthouse in D.C., but it’s clean enough, even if there is a lingering scent of alcohol in the air. Camila gives me a hasty tour of the house and I note that Evan is not to be seen. When we get back to the front porch, he’s already in the SUV with the car running.
Camila looks at me with a soft smile on her face. “This is really hard on him, he hasn’t been back since the funeral.”
I shrug, acting like it’s no big deal. Besides, the sooner they leave, the sooner I can get inside. It’s only March but the heat is on and I can feel sweat beading on my forehead.
Camila lifts her dark hair off the back of her neck to feel the slight breeze in the air. “A few things before I go.” She hands me a sheet of paper. “You start your job at Dunn Hardware Shop tomorrow, the address and contact info is on here. Practice starts Monday for the Little League team you’ll be coaching to finish up your community service hours. I also included the phone number for one of Evan’s football coaches who will be your mentor. He’s expecting you to call.” She narrows her eyes when she mentions the mentor. She has good reason to because I probably won’t be dialing his number.
“Got it. Work starts tomorrow, coaching starts Monday, and call my babysitter.” The cocky grin I used to wear before my world got ripped away from me reappears until Camila digs her finger into my chest.
“I’m serious, Jace. Don’t screw this up. No drinking, no women, and don’t even think about going anywhere close to spring training.”
My old training camp is less than three hours away from my new place. Just because I’m banned from playing in the MLB doesn’t mean I can’t attend the games. I nod to appease her, but I’m not promising myself that I won’t go say hi to my old teammates.
Camila’s face lightens up and she pats my chest. “Glad we are on the same page now.” Her hand moves to my face and she rubs her thumb over my now freshly shaved cheek, she insisted I get a makeover for my new start and although I’m far from the man that I used to be, I now look like Jace Richards all-star pitcher and not Jace Richards hobo.
“Things are going to look up, Jace. Believe in yourself.” The engine revs and we both look at Evan who is impatiently waiting. Camila kisses my cheek and pulls away smiling. “Think of this as a second chance, another at bat.”
She skips down the uneven front steps but stops before she gets to the last one. Turning around, she pulls an envelope out of her purse. “I almost forgot. Mr. Walker asked that I give this to you. He said you should put it away for a rainy day.”
I shove the envelope in my back pocket and start to lean against the rotting pillar but then decide against it. I’d hate for my new place to come crashing down less than an hour after moving in. Their SUV drives down the long driveway and I watch until I can’t see the taillights. Camila’s always been good to me, even when I put her through hell and back as my agent and while Evan Purser isn’t my first choice to hang out with, I wish they would’ve stayed longer. My stomach knots and I feel like a kid on the first day of school—lonely and afraid, of what I don’t know. I’ve been on top of the world and knocked off my pedestal. Camila’s words ring in my head. Another at bat… it always took me a few swings to get warmed up. I smile, this is going to be good.
Laurel
“So did you hear who the new coach is?” Ashley asks, her blonde hair wrapped up on top of her head.
Sliding into the seat beside her on the bleachers, I look back at the parking lot. “It’s got to be a joke, there is no way the league would let someone like Jace Richards coach the boys.”
I have no idea how the rumor got started. Jace Richards’ isn’t even from Florida so the gossip is completely fiction. There used to be a Jace Richards’ groupie club around town since all the young, single, hot women would go to spring training and more than one of them came back gloating after making a mark on his bedpost. Even before he was exposed for his gambling scandal, the man repulsed me and if he ever hit on me, I wouldn’t even give him the time of day. Then again, my days of being a young, single, hot woman are long gone.
The watch on my wrist says it’s ten past nine. Holding up my wrist, I tap the screen. “Whoever the new coach is, he’s already on my shit list because he’s late!”
I feel like Adam making that statement except I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere. I’m a single mom who is a dental hygienist during the week with no social life on the weekend other than my son’s baseball. On the field, the boys are starting to lose focus as they’ve already been playing catch for twenty minutes and are beyond warmed up by now.
“Oh…my…god, it is him!” One of the moms exclaims and points to the parking lot.
Ashley and I rubberneck in the direction of the cars. The sun is directly behind him so it’s hard to make out his features. The man walking toward us is taller than your average dad, he’s got the muscular build of a professional player, but it’s the trademark fauxhawk that lets us know the rumor isn’t a rumor at all. As he gets closer, I can finally see his face and pictures don’t do the man justice. Those baby blues of his could make any woman be putty in his hands.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as the new coach strolls past us.
Ashley’s sharp elbow connects with my rib and she grins. “Son of a bitch it’s true or son of a bitch he’s one fine specimen of man?”
Jace strolls past all the parents, stepping onto the field and calling for the team to come over. The boys stand frozen, mouths gaping open as they tilt their heads back to stare up at their new coach. He says something again and the boys come running.
Glancing over at the other parents, they’re all grins and whispers. I roll my eyes, looking back at Ashley. “How is he even qualified to coach Little League? Did they run a background check on him?”
Ashley chuckles, not taking her eyes off our new coach who is bent over, hands on his knees with his perfect ass on display for all the women in the stands. “I think he has plenty of baseball experience to be qualified to coach.”
I throw up my hands in exasperation. “And you’re fine with a criminal coaching our kids?”
Ashley tears herself away from Jace’s backside only to find me staring at the same thing she was and she laughs. “He’s not a child predator, Laurel. The man made an unethical decision… just like Adam when he slept with his secretary.” She grins. “Sounds like he’s your type.”
Ashley’s been my best friend since kindergarten so she can get away with making a comment like that. When I was married, she knew more about my sex life, or lack thereof, than Adam did. When the bastard broke my heart, she’s the one that took me out to drown my sorrows and held my hair back at the end of the nig
ht. Groaning, I lean back beside her. She’s right, the league would be stupid to let him coach without running a background check so I’m sure he’s not a threat to our kids… as long as he doesn’t teach them ethics.
“Whatever, Ash. You know the chances of me dating are non-existent, especially a jerk like him.” I nod toward the field where Jace stands on the pitching mound, the kids filling in the other positions around him. We turn our attention back to the hottie in the center of the infield.
“Wow, what do you have against him?” Ashley glances at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Oh geez, Laurel, don’t tell me you’re one of the groupies that went to spring training and hooked up with him!”
I swat her leg and laugh. “No! You really think I’d keep that kind of secret from you?”
“Ow!” She rubs her leg like I really hurt her. “You’d better not. If you hooked up with him, you had better give me all the details… and I mean all.”
I turn to face her. “Is your sex life that bad that you have to live vicariously through me?”
“Hell no! I’m just saying that if you ever got in bed with a baseball god like Jace Richards then I’d want a play by play. Don’t get me wrong, Kurtis and I have a hot sex life, but his body is nothing like that.” She nods to the field again and we both subconsciously sigh at the sight in front of us.
“Duly noted, I’ll add that to our friendship pact. If I ever get laid by a baseball god, take notes and tell you.” Giggling, we pinky promise and watch the kids practice. We met in elementary school and some days, we still act like we’re still in fifth grade.
After a few minutes, Ashley asks again, “So for real, what’s your beef with Jace Richards?”
I shrug. “Everything I’ve read about him says he’s a cheater. He cheated his team, he cheated the system, he cheated on that trainer he was dating…”
“Oh, so you hate him because your ex cheated on you?”
Jace winds up again, whizzing another ball past the batter. “You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater.”
Ashley lifts her eyebrow. “Well, haven’t you heard, don’t always believe everything you read?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Ashley has a point, I don’t know this guy. Maybe the tabloids lied about him, maybe there’s more to his story. I sigh, maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Then again, last time I gave a man the benefit of the doubt, I wound up divorced.
CHAPTER 3
Jace
It’s so fuckin’ hard to concentrate in this house with the rank smell of stale beer attached to every piece of furniture. The scent is atrocious but the fact that Camila told me to stay away from alcohol only makes the putrid odor that much more tempting. Thank god I’ve started pitching again so I have some kind of stress reliever although from the ache in my shoulder it’s obvious I took too much time off. From the moment I was banned from the MLB, I vowed I’d never pitch again but now that I am, I realize how much I’ve missed it.
I close the lid on the laptop and set it on the couch. I’m about to go cross-eyed from all the YouTube videos I’ve watched about baseball practices. I know I fucked up at the first practice by showing up late. My new boss at the hardware store refuses to let me cut out a few minutes early, but at least I get a decent discount so I can start fixing up a few things around this place. Most of the parents seemed impressed that I was the new coach, which gave me a boost of confidence that I’d lost. I’ve come to face the facts that I won’t be pitching professionally again so I intend to put all of my baseball efforts into this Little League team, even if I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
After that first practice, I broke down and called Evan’s mentor. He’s in his sixties and reminds me of my elementary school teacher, straight down to the polyester Rawlings shorts and terrible combover. The man goes by the name of Coach and judging from the amount of people that said hello to him during the hour we were at the local diner, I’d say he’s well known. This town isn’t small by any means so I was actually impressed, not to mention he’s won almost twenty state high school football championships during his career. Football, baseball, or synchronized swimming, Coach gave some great tips for running practice and building a team.
I was completely unprepared for the first team meeting and only had batting practice. I couldn’t help it, once I started getting warmed up, this urge to keep throwing took over. The kids got nothing out of it and judging from the hot brunette mom on the bleachers, she was less than thrilled, but no one said anything to me, other than what a huge fan they were and how unfair my punishment from the MLB was. The old Jace would’ve agreed and made a scene about it, but I got what I deserved so I politely nodded and got out of there as fast as I could.
After two practices, I’d determined that the best player on the team, Grey, might belong to the brunette. She’s the only parent not to introduce herself yet, giving off the mysterious vibe. Her and Grey have matching blue eyes, the same hair color, but the kid is already almost as tall as her at five feet, five inches. From the bleachers, this woman glares at me the entire practice, her eyebrows drawn in and her lips in a straight line, but the second she’s with her son, a beautiful smile comes to her face and the harshness in her eyes is replaced with a look only a mom can have. The woman is beautiful with either emotion but when she smiles, something within me wakes up.
Back in the day, I was a womanizer to say the least, a different woman, or two, in every MLB city and never the same one. To me, women were just another material object like everything else in my life, except one woman—Colie Adamson. She was my best friend in college when I dropped out because of an injury and when I found her again, I thought I had it all. And for a brief, fleeting moment I did. I had money, power, fame, and the woman who owned my heart. The day I lost her was the day I concluded that my life was entirely too fucked up, even for me.
So no matter how hot and tempting this brunette mom is, I have to stay away. I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again the way I did Colie. Not to mention there is no way I want to be anyone’s daddy, even if her kid might have the potential to play in the big leagues one day. The decision I made at twenty-three to have a vasectomy is the only right one I’ve ever made.
Laurel
My car door is open before the key is even out of the ignition. Another Saturday at work and I’m late to Grey’s practice, if it can even be called that. Jace Richards as a coach is nothing but a joke. Practices have basically turned into pitching practice for him and the other parents are so enamored with him that they don’t even mind. I don’t know about the rest of them but I signed my son up to play baseball, not for him to shag balls for an exiled professional pitcher.
I jog to the field, knowing Grey hates when Adam is the only one of us watching him. As soon as I get to the bleachers, Adam is standing up, his eyes fixated on his phone. “About time you showed up, Teddy.”
My cheeks flush and I glance around, trying to see if anyone heard him, but they’re all staring at the “coach” on the field. “Keep calling me that, Adam, and I’m sure I can think of a few nicknames to call you.” Cheater, scumbag, asshole aren’t even the names I’m referring to.
Finally looking up from his phone, he steps to me, one hand pinching my waist as he kisses my cheek. “You going to be home tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about Grey.”
My stomach twists and worry sets in. “What about him?”
Adam smiles, knowing he has my attention. “We’ll talk later.”
He steps around me and saunters off. I hate when he does that and he knows it. When it comes to Grey, I’m a tiger momma and will do whatever I have to to protect him, especially from his father. His Range Rover pulls away and I tell myself he probably just wants to switch weekends with me, it’s nothing to be concerned about.
“Come on, Sam! Pay attention!”
Jace’s deep voice pulls me away from my worries and I turn my attention to the field. Sam, already introverted, stares down at the
batter’s box as Jace chastises him in front of his peers. Jace gives a few more directions before standing up and pitching to him again. Sam barely tips the ball, sending it sideways and I’ve had it.
Marching through the dugout in my mint green scrubs, I step onto the infield and pick up the foul ball. “Hey, Coach,” I yell, mocking his title. The man barely has time to turn in my direction when I hurl the baseball at him, putting to use my fifteen years of softball experience. Jace reacts quickly, lifting his arm and catching the ball with little effort. I march across the field to him and stop an arm’s length away.
“Wow, nice arm, Hot Shot. Guess we all know where Grey gets it from?” Jace says the words with a cocky grin on his face, making me dislike him even more.
I shove my finger in his chest. “Who the hell do you think you are? You walk on this field like you’re God’s gift to baseball. You don’t even have the common courtesy to show up on time!” Three practices in and he’s yet to be punctual. I was late today but one minute after ten and Adam was blowing up my phone, complaining about his precious time being wasted.
His jaw clenches, showing off his perfect facial structure and I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Look, lady, I’m doing the best I can, alright?”
I throw back my head and laugh. “This is your best?”
“You think you can do better? Go right ahead, Hot Shot.” Jace drops the ball in my hand and steps around me. Shocked, I turn and watch him stroll off the field. I bite the inside of my cheek as my body reacts to the way his muscles ripple through his clothes. Ashley is right, he’s every bit of baseball god and my body wants to be sure that I know that.
CHAPTER 4
Jace
My foot presses harder on the gas pedal, trying to get me to Viera and the Diplomats’ spring training camp. I know Camila told me to stay away from this place but that mom really set me off. When I stepped onto that field on the first day of practice, for once since I’d fallen from fame, I felt like a superstar again. The way the parents and players looked at me in awe brought back the confidence I’d lost and not the cocky, arrogant kind. No, it reminded me of when I played ball at Loyola and we’d run summer camps. Every kid stared at us like we were their role models. If only I’d have kept that mindset then I wouldn’t be where I am today, but that wasn’t how the cards fell.