by Lyssa Layne
Fuck Evan Purser and the white horse he rode in on. I don’t need anyone telling me who I can and can’t be around. My head’s finally above water enough that I can handle this on my own. Besides, there’s nothing anyone could say that would keep me away from Laurel. She doesn’t know it, but she’s as much a part of my recovery as her son’s baseball team.
Laurel
Jealousy. She’s a cruel bitch and I hate her. Without any warning, she creeps in and makes me turn into the ugliest person I can imagine. Luckily, I caught her making her entrance which is why I’m standing at my parents’ kitchen counter watching Jace and the Brazilian bombshell chat instead of letting jealousy rear her ugly claws. Camila moves her hand to his face and that bitch jealousy makes my stomach clench. I keep telling myself to look away, that none of this is my business. I have no claim on Jace Richards, he’s just my son’s baseball coach… or so I keep telling myself.
“Please tell me you aren’t really interested in him?”
I jump back, startled at Evan’s voice and reel around to face him. “Please don’t tell me that you care who I date?”
“If it’s another asshole then absolutely I do. Come on, Laurel, didn’t you learn anything from Adam?” Evan leans against the counter, crossing his arms.
I jump up, taking a seat on the counter as I chew on a piece of celery. “Sure, I learned that men primarily think with their dicks and don’t care about anyone they hurt along the way so long as they get laid.”
Evan lets out a loud laugh and shakes his head. “Not all men, Laur, but for sure I’d say Adam Darbis and Jace Richards fall in that category.”
“First off, there is nothing going on between myself and Jace Richards.” I hold the stalk of celery in my hand, shaking it in his direction as I talk. “Second, how does Jace fall in that category?”
Evan rolls his eyes. “I know this town is pretty old-fashioned but you’ve got the Internet, right? All Jace wanted with Colie Adamson was to have a good girl on his arm that improved his reputation. He was fuckin’ all kinds of women behind her back. If that isn’t case and point of how you described Adam, I don’t know what is.”
I shake my head. “You really shouldn’t believe everything you read,” I repeat the words Jace and Ashley both told me.
Evan walks across the room, placing his hands over mine. “I’m sorry, Laurel, but Camila is best friends with Colie. She told her firsthand what happened.”
My stomach sinks and I glance back to the porch in time to see Jace storming off the deck around the front of the house. Quickly, I push Evan away and jump off the counter, running out the front door to catch Jace.
“Hey!” I yell at him, but he keeps walking. “Jace!” I jog down the front steps and catch up to him on the sidewalk as he’s walking away from my father’s house. Grabbing his hand, I tug on it and he turns around to look at me. A vein pulses in his forehead and he clenches his jaw.
“Stay away from me, Laurel. I’m a piece of shit and hurt everyone around me. I’d recommend you stay as far away from me as possible or you’ll only wind up hurt.”
I move my hand to his cheek, my thumb stroking that sexy hair on his face. Our eyes lock and his whole face is empty, void of any emotion except anger but looking hard enough, I know the anger only masks hurt.
“I haven’t seen any of that yet so why don’t you let me decide on my own?” His eyes close and he leans into my hand. Whispering, I tell him, “My daddy says you’re a good man, Jace Richards, and he’s never lied to me before. Show me that he’s right.”
Opening his eyes, Jace nods and wraps his arms around me. Easily, I slide my arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and taking in his sandalwood and vanilla cologne. I push Evan’s words out of my mind. Jace is trying, that’s what Daddy said so I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Just as much as my hormones are doing backflips, my heart is joining in on the gymnastics. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER 11
Jace
Grey throws a fastball perfectly down the center of the plate and Sam snags it, sending it right back to him. I clap my hands together and he winds up again. The boys go through the motions of pitch and catch, the most basic fundamentals of the game, but instead of complaining, they both push each other to try harder, throw faster, to get better. This is the stuff that professionals are made out of and I’m happy to be a part it, encouraging them to follow their dreams.
Thank god Laurel talked me off the edge last Saturday. I was ready to throw away everything I worked for when she walked up to me and essentially told me to believe in myself, or at least believe in her father’s words. I don’t know what that man sees in me, and I haven’t known him long, but I know that I don’t want to disappoint him, or his daughter and grandson.
Thunder rumbles in the distance and dark clouds are rolling in. “Come on, guys. That’s it for today.” Fat raindrops fall from the sky and we don’t even have time to pick up all the equipment before the sky lets loose. The kids love it, taking their time to spin in circles, trying to catch raindrops in their mouths as we make our way to my Explorer. I open the door for the boys to crawl in back and Grey hesitates.
“What’s wrong?” I flip my head, pushing my damp hair off my forehead.
“I’ll get your seat wet.” Grey fidgets nervously, his eyes darting back and forth from my car seat to me.
“So what? It’ll dry.” Remnants of my hair gel roll into my eyes and I try to wipe it away with my fingers.
Grey’s face lights up. “Really? You won’t be mad?”
“Hell no!” My eyes get big as I catch my wording and Grey giggles, finally crawling in back and Sam gets in next to him.
I settle into the driver’s seat, wiping my face off with my work shirt before starting the engine. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I make sure the boys are buckled up before I back out of my parking spot. Classic rock plays through the radio and I turn it down so we can talk.
“Who gets mad at you about wet car seats?” I split my attention from the road and the mirror so I can see Grey’s reaction.
“My dad. He gets mad about everything.” Grey’s shoulders slump and he stares at the glove in his hand.
I can feel the vein in my forehead starting to pulse, a sign that my temper is getting heated. “He…” I clench my jaw, sick at the question I’m about to ask. “He doesn’t hurt you, does he?”
Grey shakes his head, not even hesitating. “No, not like that. He just yells a lot and doesn’t want me to bother him.”
I have to ask one more question and if the answer is yes, I’m going to find the prick myself and show him what’s up. “Has he ever…hurt your mom?”
“Not that I know of. Mom says he’s all bark and no bite so I shouldn’t sweat it.”
Forcing a smile, I nod. “Well, your mom’s a smart one. What about you, Sam? How’s your mom doing?”
Grey’s eyes shoot up to mine in the mirror and he shakes his head. I look over at Sam, who has a tear falling down his cheek, and I pull the car over. Shifting the car into park, I look back at him.
“Hey, man, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I reach back and pat his leg.
Sam wipes his eye and looks up. “I can handle it. I am the man of the house…well, I used to be. We don’t have a house any more, we had to sell it to pay medical bills.”
“Shit,” I mutter, not realizing it until Grey glares at me. His words put my life into perspective. I may be almost thirty living in some linebacker’s mom’s house but I’m not ten and homeless with a mother on her deathbed. “Sorry. Hey, Laurel’s not expecting us for another half hour, why don’t we get some ice cream?”
Sam perks up. “Chocolate?”
“Abso-fu—I mean, yeah, that sounds good.” Shit, I’ve got to remember my new best friends are ten, not grown men.
Laurel
“Where’s the kid?”
I roll my eyes. I hate when Adam calls Grey “the kid” like he’s some random stray dog we pic
ked up and brought home. “Our son is at baseball practice.” I hand him a bottle of water and wait for him to tell me why he really stopped by.
“Don’t you think this baseball thing is going a little far?”
I scoff. “Too far? You’re the one that missed his birth because you were playing in the baseball state championship!” Seventeen and pregnant made my priorities change but not so much for Adam.
“I was a kid, what did I know? You ever going to let that go?” Adam shakes his head and takes a drink of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“Probably not. Now, tell me why you’re here?” I glance at the clock. Jace should be bringing the boys home any minute and I don’t want Adam to be here.
“All I’m saying is that with Bianca and me moving to New York, Grey’s not going to have time for baseball.”
“Why not?”
“Come on, Laurel. You know we’ll have to figure out a new custody agreement. Maybe he’ll spend half the school year with you, the other half with me?”
Suddenly feeling lightheaded, I drop to the couch. “Hell no, Adam! I’m not going to let Grey be away from me for months at a time.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Well think about it, Laur, I’d rather us figure it out than have to waste money and go back to court.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something I’ll regret. Adam has more money than he knows what to do with but he refuses to spend any of it on his own child. It took all of my savings plus most of my parents’ to pay the lawyer for my divorce but when it comes to Grey, my parents and I agree that money is no object.
Adam’s hand is on my cheek and I pull back, not wanting his touch. “Laurel, don’t fight this. We’re moving to New York, but don’t think you’re getting rid of me. I am his father and I have rights.”
Adam lets himself out the front door and I curl into a ball on the couch, sobbing over the battle that lies ahead of me. I don’t understand him. Sure, he’s Grey’s dad, but he’s never been a father, never taken any interest in him or wanted to spend time with him. He’s only doing this because it’s his way of showing that he can control my life. He’s told me on more than one occasion that I took away his life when Grey was born and refused to leave town. This has nothing to do with our son and everything to do about getting revenge on me.
The side door opens and I quickly sit up, wiping the tears off my cheeks as Sam and Grey come zooming into the living room. They’re both drenched and I detect traces of chocolate in the corners of their mouths. Both of them talking at once, I manage to figure out that they were caught in the rain and Jace took them for ice cream. Laughing, I direct them both down the hallway to change into dry outfits. When I turn around, Jace is leaning in the doorway, his normally spiked up hair now flat and wet. He, too, has wet clothing and it clings to his sculpted muscles, giving me a better idea of what’s hidden underneath.
When our eyes meet, his smile fades and he takes a step toward me, his hands on either side of my face. “You’ve been crying.” It’s not a question, he’s stating fact.
I nod to the T.V. “Some sappy Lifetime movie, they always get me.”
He shakes his head. “Bullshit.”
I smile as he calls me out like I did to him. Pushing his hands off my face, I glance over his body, my stomach burning with lust and I force myself to look away from his pants. “You’re soaking wet, you should probably get home and change.”
“I’m not leaving until I know why you’ve been crying.”
I shrug and walk around him. “My ex stopped by—”
His hands move to my biceps and he holds me tightly. “He didn’t hit you, did he?”
“What?” I shake my head at the idea of Adam being man enough to hit anyone. “No! He’s too much of a pussy to do anything like that.”
Jace lets out his breath and pulls me against him. His wet clothes send a chill over me, but I’m warmed by the desire that’s coursing through me. He pulls away and looks down into my eyes, his hands lingering on my waist.
“If he ever hurt you or Grey—”
Slightly turned on at his protectiveness, I shake my head. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, but if he did… Laurel, I won’t ever let him, or anyone else, hurt you.”
Tears prick my eyes and I shut them tightly. “It’s too late.”
Jace’s rough fingers slide over my cheek. “Why? What’d he do?”
Opening my eyes, I take a deep breath, ready to reveal what I’ve been keeping to myself for the last couple weeks. “Grey’s dad, Adam, is getting married to his former secretary, the one who broke up our marriage. Him and the homewrecking whore are moving to New York and he stopped by to talk about a new custody arrangement.”
The tears don’t wait for permission. No, they just topple down my cheeks and Jace rubs his fingers over them, wiping them away, one after another. I try to pull away, mumbling as the word vomit begins. “I’m sorry. It’s not your business, I shouldn’t have said anything. You probably don’t care—”
“Laurel.” Jace says, getting my attention. “Shut up. Anything regarding you and Grey I care about and you don’t have to go through this alone.”
That’s all it takes and the tears come hot and they come hard. Jace Richards, why are you proving my Daddy to be right? I’ve been alone the majority of my adult life and didn’t mind it one bit. Now that Jace has made that statement, I never want to face anything by myself again.
CHAPTER 12
Jace
Taking a deep breath, I hit the green button on my phone and wait for the call to connect. I pace back and forth across the living room, coming to a stop when he answers.
“Hey, Mike, it’s Jace Richards.”
The line is silent and I look at my phone to see if the call got dropped. It didn’t and his laughter booms in my ear. “Jace Richards, how the hell are ‘ya, man? I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”
I try to laugh along with him. “Nope, I’m still around.” I make small talk with the former athletic trainer for the New York Aces baseball team. Earl got nervous about having players throw games for him so he enlisted the help of Mike to play a different angle by working players during their injuries instead of giving them time off. Mike was just as twisted as Earl and there for a while so was I.
The conversation comes to a lull and I decide to dive into the real reason I called. “I found out that Earl has been blackmailing some other players and it wasn’t just me.”
There’s a long pause and then Mike says, “Yeah, I knew that.”
“I’ve been researching the names I have and trying to figure out a way to get them to come clean. I know it’s a long shot but if Earl is blackmailing enough of us, maybe the commissioner will hear me out and possibly let me back in the league.”
Mike chuckles on the other end and I hold the phone away from my ear it’s so loud. “It’s a good thought, Richards, but you really think any of them are going to come forward? They all saw what happened to you and don’t want any part of that shit.”
I sigh, dropping in the Lazy Boy recliner and pinching my nose. “You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“The only way to bring Earl Floyd down is to have him admit to it himself.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that, Mike?” The sliver of hope I was holding on to is slowly slipping further and further away.
“I don’t know, brother, I’m not the one trying to make my way back into the limelight, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Give me a call if you need anything.”
I end the call and lean back, closing my eyes. Do I even want to pitch again in the majors? Is it worth all this stress? What’s to say I won’t fall back into my old habits of being a cocky bastard? My phone jingles with a text message and when I look to see who it’s from, a smile crosses my face. Her, she’s the reason I won’t fall into my old ways.
Grey & Sam wanted to know if you were u
p for an extra practice.
I type back, letting her know I’ll be by in twenty minutes to pick them up. Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I grab my hat and look for my keys. It’s been a couple weeks since Laurel and I shared our dark moments with each other and neither of us have talked about it since. In fact, I haven’t even been alone with her and the boys having “extra practices” is the only way our paths cross outside of games and team practices. Of course, when I bring them home, we usually stand in the driveway chatting for at least an hour about anything and everything irrelevant. For instance, I’ve learned that Laurel despises hockey, she can quote almost every line from The Sandlot, and her fridge is always stocked with Angry Orchard Hard Cider. Simple, safe facts where neither of us divulge too much and risk putting ourselves out there only to get hurt.
My key ring shines in the sunlight on the front hall table. Sitting beside them is the envelope that Camila gave me from Bill Walker, president of Netsport. Deciding not to wait any longer, I tear it open and a check for a substantial amount stares back at me. The memo line simply says “thanks.” My first instinct is to tear it up because it’s dirty money but then a lightbulb goes off in my head. I walk to the SUV, pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing Camila on speakerphone. Adrenaline pumps quickly through my body as I wait for her to pick up and pull onto the main road.
“Camila Lemos.”
“Cam!” I almost yell into the phone.
“Jace? What’s wrong?” Her voice switches from business to panic mode.
“Fuck, nothing. Come on, give me the benefit of the doubt every now and then.”
“Fine, I’m sorry. What’s going on?”
“Just hear me out, okay? I should’ve told you all of this sooner but I didn’t see the point.” Quickly, I reiterate everything I’ve found out thus far and end with the connection I just made. “Ask Bill, he knows about this.”
