by E. A. James
“You look awful,” she said, grimacing as she eyed him up and down. “How are you even alive?”
Hanes snorted. “I missed you, too, you runt.”
“If you ever do something so idiotic again—”
He tilted his head to the side and huffed. “I know, I know. I got all kinds of lectures back at the hospital. I won’t do that ever again.”
Gina visibly relaxed. “Okay then.” She slowly moved forward and gave him the lightest hug he had ever received. “You’re the good one, you know.”
Hanes smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to his baby sister’s head. “Second to you, maybe.”
Gina snorted, but she didn’t disagree with him. She patted his back once before backing away and opening the door for them all.
Hanes nod his thanks as he hobbled his way inside the air-conditioned home. He heard Frankie and his family shuffle in after him—all of them so close to him and one another. They practically hovered over him until he sat down on the couch, his crutches placed against the couch’s arm.
Frankie, quickly but gently, settled in beside him again.
And then everything returned to normal.
“We should talk about how exactly to split up dad’s assets,” Thomas said, taking his seat in the lounge chair. “He does have some properties on the east coast that I think we should sell. And we have lost some renters this past year, so we need to focus on doing more advertising.”
“Again with the advertising,” Eunice whined. “That’s all you ever talk about.”
“Advertising is how sales happen.”
“We haven’t even gotten a proper contract set up yet. Everything still belongs to Hanes right now.”
Thomas’s face fell. “Right.” He turned to Hanes. “Um—”
Hanes waved his hand at them all, some of them taking their seats while others remained standing with their arms crossed. “Don’t give a damn. You can have it all.”
“You should have some say in the company,” his mother said. She was one of the ones who remained standing, her face contorting with frustration. “Those stables and ranches your father rented out are his legacy.”
“I thought that was what we were. Why else would he write out the will the way he did?”
That got everyone quiet, their gazes lowering.
Hanes smirked with triumph. And now that everything was silent, he could return his full attention to Frankie, snuggled against his side. “You know,” he said, amusement and warmth coursing through him, “someone at the hospital told me that you and I were engaged.”
Frankie jolted a bit before backing away to face him properly. A blush coated her entire face, her mouth opening and closing before an actual sound came up. “Well, um, Thomas thought that—it—I—”
“I really liked the sound of it,” Hanes said, his smirk softening as he stared at his babbling beauty.
Her face went slack, her eyes moistening. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leaned a little closer. Her scent, her warmth—it wrapped around him, made him feel like he truly was home. Everything about Frankie Carmichael was everything he had ever needed, and he felt the urge to make it permanent as soon as possible. “I would get on one knee if I could, but—”
“I’ll marry you,” she breathed before kissing him. “Of course I will.”
As Hanes heart soared, his relatives applauded. He didn’t know why they were clapping—he and Frankie weren’t their only little reality show—but he didn’t care. He leaned forward and kissed Frankie again, his hand moving to rest on her swollen belly.
Home, he thought again, joy and peace settling over him.
THE END
The Quarterback’s Secret Baby
CHAPTER ONE
I’m from Small Town, Texas, and no, that is not a joke – that’s its real name. It looks and feels exactly like what you would imagine - a small town with about 3,000 residents. There are only three schools - one elementary, one middle school and one high school. The same people have been working the same jobs for as long as I can remember. It’s the kind of place that when you leave you never come back, but if you stay, like me, you’re stuck…forever.
I drudged up the dirt pathway, made from the years of foot traffic to open the Greasy Spoon Diner. After ten years of working here Dottie finally trusted me to open in the morning. When she first told me I couldn’t help but be excited, I mean…she didn’t trust anyone to open her beloved diner. Now, at five in the morning, when dawn had barely cracked, I was opening this restaurant. I could almost predict my day to a T. At 6:00 am, the cowboys would slowly pool in for coffee, always ordering the same thing. The few not lucky enough to have wives would order breakfast or confirm that they’ll be ordering lunch. Around 7:00, the few stragglers would come in, needing a hot meal before work, before I would get a blessed hour of peace from 9:00 – 10:00. After that starts the feeding frenzy for lunch, and that doesn’t calm down until 3:00….which is thankfully when I finish for the day.
“Morning Maddie,” Sal says, patting me hard on the behind, per tradition.
“It’s too early for that Sal,” I say, exhausted already.
“Nonsense, it’s never too early for a little shake to go along with my eggs.”
“It’s fries.”
“So you agree. Come here so I can get some more.”
I could only sigh and shake my head before walking back to the kitchen to deliver the orders.
I took the orders, passed them off to Flo, our morning cook. As cliché as it may seem, there was something comforting about the gum smacking woman with over-fluffed red hair firmly stuck in the 1980s.
“Let me get a hot blonde in sand, (coffee with cream and sugar), Adam & Eve on a raft and wreck ’em with a side of Noah’s boy (two scrambled eggs on toast with ham).”
Flo rung up the orders with the speed of God and dished out the plates. Diner lingo was essential to our functional operation. Daisy ran the register but most of our customers paid in cash and rarely tipped. Thankfully, Dottie paid me a little above the statewide wage for servers. Even with her charity, though, I barely made ends meet.
I finally stepped aside for my break, shaking like I needed a cigarette. I would if it wasn’t such a costly habit. I suppressed the urge with my phone.
Text message? Who the hell talks to me? If I didn’t need to always be available, I wouldn’t even have a phone.
Hey, bestie. - 10:14 am Cara.
Cara Shields, the most beautiful woman in the world. It might seem like I was exaggerating but I wasn’t. She was one of those girls that got everything they ever wanted, and I couldn’t be mad because she was as humble as they come. If I wasn’t so prideful, we wouldn’t have lost contact over all these years. After staring at the screen longer than I should and procrastinating with a short game of Angry Birds, I responded.
Hey. - 10:32am
Good God, she lives. Where you been Madkins? - 10:33am
Haha. Look I’m on break for a few more minutes. - 10:35 am
Ok then here’s the gist….I’m getting married! - 10:35 am
What?! - 10:37 am
I know! And I want you there. I’m having the wedding in Small Town, and I BETTER SEE YOU THERE. - 10:38 am
You don’t even have to be a part of it. It’s a little last minute, so I’m not having any bridesmaids, but I’ve just got to have you there. - 10:39 am
I couldn’t even respond I was so shocked.
Please say yes. It’s been too long girl. I just want to see your face on the happiest day of my life. - 10:41 am
The guilt trip was real. What could I say but yes?
Of course I’ll be there. - 10:42 am.
Perfect. The time and date are in your email. - 10:42 am
With that, I resigned myself back to torture and entered the frenzy of lunch hour.
I’m sure I looked as haggard as I felt. I was running between the food counter and few tables in the establishment, serving drinks and yelling orders at Flo. Shira, th
e lunch shift server, came in to help, but there was just more mouths to feed than working hands.
“Let me get an M.D. (Dr. Pepper), 2 Atlanta specials, (Coca Cola), mother and child reunion (chicken and egg sandwich), and burn one, take it through the garden and pin a rose on it (hamburger with lettuce, tomato).
By the time I dragged myself home everything hurt. I wanted to cry, but I had to put on a brave face. Before my key could turn, the door flung open, and something attacked my legs.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”
I bent to pick up the Tasmanian devil. “Hey, my love. Where’s the fire?”
She giggled and buried her small head into my neck. “There’s no fire. Allie would have put it out. I missed you, Mommy. What you do today?” She eyed me with innocence and chubby cheeks, and I couldn’t help kissing her.
“What do you think I did today?”
“I think you fed all the hungry people,” she said, and I grinned.
“That’s right.”
Allie, my babysitter, came around to lock the door behind me. “How are you doing Ms. Williams?” Allie wore her hair in a short stylish black bob. For someone so young, she radiated beauty. She was poised and articulate….the epitome of a proper Texas lady.
“Just fine Allie. Thanks for asking.”
I collapsed on the couch. “How was she today?” I asked her, taking in her poreless face. Even without makeup she had no dark circles under her eyes. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know I would scare myself.
“She was great,” Allie said, bending down to braid Emmy’s dirty brown hair.
“Just great,” I said before grabbing my purse to pay her.
“See you tomorrow Emmy,” she said, closing the door behind her.
I only had a few minutes of free time off my feet before I had to get up and cook dinner. It was a simple one – spaghetti…or as Flo would call it, foreign entanglements and chicken nuggets for the little one. I couldn’t help thinking about what Cara said as I stirred the sauce. If she were coming, and no doubt marrying that famous movie producer, the entire town would come out. Everyone I wanted to see, and wanted to avoid would be there.
The nostalgic feeling made me dig out my old photo album. Only time and memories kept the pictures to the page. Emmy trudged in just as I put the food on the plates.
“What is this Mommy?”
“It’s a photo album.”
“Are you in it?” she asked, attempting to dump all the ketchup in the bottle on her plate.
“Yes,” I said, grabbing the bottle. “Right here.”
“Oh,” she crooned, her big blue eyes wide at my youth.
“You were so pretty.”
Were. Such an ugly word. It held so much potential to cut, referring to the past version of you and, in this sense, a better version.
“Aren’t I pretty now?” I asked, grappling for my shattered pride.
“Yes.” She nodded, stuffing more chicken in her mouth. “But you were the prettiest,” she said pointing to the faded picture of me senior year of college.
Not much has changed over the years. My blue eyes had darkened over the years. My blond hair still hung long, bright and shiny down my back, though with more split ends than I care to admit. My face has gotten harder from struggle, though I still tried to smile as much and I had definitely gained some weight.
That book held so many broken dreams, unfulfilled promises and faces I didn’t want to see. Most of all, I didn’t want to see his face. I closed it with finality, determined not to think about him. When the table was cleaned, we sat on the couch to watch Monday Night Football. After an entire day on my feet, I wanted nothing more than to relax with my favorite girl and watch hot men throw some skin. Emmy obediently went to the bedroom to lie down, leaving the door open. She knew Mommy would be busy.
I sighed, pulling the computer out to start my second job. From 8:00 pm to midnight, I worked as an article writer for a news site from my house. It was hard being a single parent with two jobs but what choice did I have? A lot of people liked to criticize me and tell me that I should relax and “be around more” because I have a child…this was my compromise. I worked two jobs because I had a child. After $500 a month for a one bedroom apartment, $300 for childcare, $85 for electric utilities, $60 for a cellphone, $300 for health insurance, $200 for basic groceries and $60 for internet, two jobs were necessary. Thankfully, Emmy had stopped needing formula and diapers.
I watched the game come to an end. The sound helped Emmy sleep and kept me entertained in between writing articles. Thankfully, I could make as much money as possible writing as many 600-word articles as possible. The TV screen in my peripheral caught my attention.
There he was. The man I let get away. The face I didn’t want to see…my beautiful nightmare and my sweetest dream. Liam Shields, Cara’s older brother and the only man I ever loved. He was the NFL’s MVP of the year and Quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys, but the last time I saw him was at high school graduation. He tried to say something, to hold onto us but I ran away, and that was the last time I ever saw him face-to-face. The screen zoomed in on his face.
A blonde woman stuck the mic in his face as soon as he pulled his helmet off his head. His curly black hair fell over his eyes, and he smiled while pushing it back.
“Liam, how do you feel about your performance today? You were killing it out there.”
His black paint framed his sweaty hard brown, and his teeth gleamed white into the camera.
“I felt really good throwing the ball today. I was able to see the field really well. I have to give credit to the offensive line they were the ones really making things happen for me, keeping the pass rush off of me to make some plays out there. If it wasn't for the blocks they produced, I probably wouldn't have had the game I did.”
Good looking and humble too, what kind of man was this? I sighed and continued writing as the night crept in.
CHAPTER TWO
Houston Texas – 9:32 a.m.
It is very disorienting waking up in a hotel room. As many as I’d been in over the years, I should know their interior more than I knew my own home, but that wasn’t the case. I had to blink the sleet from my eyes and look around.
Where the hell was I?
Then it all came rushing back. Houston. I looked around, and my eyes landed on the logo on the free notepad they leave in hotel’s room. Holiday Inn. I wasn’t alone. I shut my eyes attempting to remember the night before but it was just a blur of colors and good times.
Ok, what about the brown haired girl on top of me.
She was pretending to be sleep. I could tell, her breathing wasn’t deep enough. I understood the logic. The longer she slept, the longer she could lay on me. At least, that’s what she thought, but alas, this party had to come to an end.
I moved to get up, intentional shaking her from being on top of my chest. Her name was something like Bonnie. My brain was still trying to piece together where I picked her up from.
“Morning,” she said seductively, trying to attach herself to me again. Not today. I just woke up, and I was already tired. Jesus, is this what it feels like to be old?
“You have to go,” I said planting my feet on the floor.
She was as enthusiastic to stay as the women before her were.
“But I was thinking we could have a morning recap of last night.”
Don’t they all? Every single one of them, in more ways than one, try to stay but few have succeeded and they all end up leaving…even Maddie.
“No can do Bonnie.” I shrugged her off to brush my teeth. What was it with women wanting sex before they brushed their teeth anyway? I don’t know where your mouth has been. Aside from being on my cock last night, it was suspect.
“It’s Shawnee!” She actually had the nerve to sound angry. Tomato, tamato girl. She knew what it was when she offered herself up in front of the locker room.
I wasn’t going to apologize. She couldn’t make me feel bad. I already accep
ted what I was. She couldn’t change my colors any more than I could attempt to turn her into a housewife. I love women and women love me. I lost count of how many I had slept with a long time ago. It’s a win-win sleeping with me as far as I’m concerned. They can say they slept with an NFL player, even if no one believes them, and I can get a night of satisfaction. Most women like the fact there are no strings attached. It wasn’t hidden knowledge that I slept with different women. They knew I was a traveling athlete, what about that screamed husband material? When I was out, I kept a different one on my arm almost every day of the week. I was careful and, most importantly, I never lied to a girl. I'd always tell them straight: I don't want a relationship, and all I'm interested in is having fun. No relationship, no stress. Don’t get me wrong - I love women, and I try my best to respect them, but as far as was concerned, I had already met and lost “the one.” No need in repeating that painful experience.
