The Cleanup_a Washington Rampage Sports Romance

by Megan Green

  “What did you do?” she asks as I walk back up to her window.

  I drop my head inside, pressing my lips to hers in a brief but firm kiss. “Paying my dues. Now, come here.”

  I open the door, yanking her out of the car so that I can properly kiss her good-bye.

  She looks a little dazed when I pull back, and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to jump right back in that car and take her home. But I know, if I want to have any sort of a career left after this, I need to get my ass in that airport right now before I miss my flight.

  “I’ll see you soon, Tink.”

  She nods. “Travel safe.”

  “Always,” I say with a grin. “I have way too much to come home to now.”

  “I love you, Brandon,” she says as I drop my hold on her and head toward the door.

  I turn, stopping for a moment so that I can burn this image of her standing there, on the pavement, watching as I leave, into my brain.

  “I breathe for you, Liv.”

  The next two days pass excruciatingly slow. The Rampage win both of the remaining games on the road, and if I wasn’t so damn exhausted, I’d head to Coach’s office and convince him to let me hop a flight back to Seattle tonight instead of flying back with the team tomorrow.

  But I don’t think I could physically get up off this bed if the damn thing caught on fire. Turns out, getting little to no sleep on top of playing two back-to-back ball games—oh, and that whole emotional-turmoil thing—isn’t so easy when you’re pushing thirty. Now that things are right with Liv again, the last few days have finally caught up to me, and I plan to sleep for twenty-four hours straight as soon as I get back to her.

  Well, maybe not straight. I might have to toss in a sex break or two.

  A loud pounding on my hotel room door startles me out of my dozing musings of Liv, naked and in my bed. I look over at the bed beside mine, already knowing Tag isn’t there but hoping I can maybe magically manifest the motherfucker so that he could get up and answer the door.

  No luck.

  I groan, pulling my pillow over my head and praying that whoever the hell is at the door gets the hint and leaves.

  Again, I’m shit out of luck.

  The heavy beats only come louder and faster, as if the person on the other side is either pissed off or in a panic.

  Before I can war with myself further on whether or not the building actually is on fire and if that is enough to get me out of this bed, Coach’s muffled voice sounds from the hallway. “Jeffers! Open the damn door. I’ve got news you’re gonna want to see.”

  Huh. Guess I was wrong. There is something that could get me out of this bed. And Coach just said the magic words.

  I dash across the room, throwing open the door. Coach doesn’t waste any time, pushing past me as he holds up a manila file folder.

  “We’ve got her,” he says with an elated grin.

  The relief that rushes through me is palpable, all the breath leaving my lungs in one fell swoop.

  When I got back to the team after my visit to Maple Lake, Coach let me know just how much of a man of his word he was. While I had been gone, he’d not only cleared my leave for me, but he’d also hired the best private investigator in the business to see what we could dig up on Jayne to prove she was lying.

  He strides across the room and sits down on the sofa, tossing the file on the coffee table for me to look at. I pick it up as I park my ass on the chair, flipping it open before I’m even settled.

  I’m immediately greeted by a picture of Jayne leaving a building. With a man who is very much not me.

  “Who’s this?”

  Coach shrugs. “My guess? The real baby daddy. That door they’re walking out of? It’s a doctor’s office. An OB/GYN to be exact.”

  “So, she really is pregnant?”

  He nods. “It appears so. Frank couldn’t get into medical records because of all those dumb privacy laws. But I doubt she’s got a doctor in on her little scheme, too. She’s pregnant. And, for some reason, that schmuck is content to go along with her story.”

  “Why would he do that? Why would he want people to think his kid isn’t really his?”

  The thought baffles me. I can’t even imagine standing idly by while Liv tried to say my baby was somebody else’s.

  He shrugs again. “Why do people do half the things they do? Fame, money, love? Who knows? But we can publish this. Show the world how full of shit she is.”

  I raise a brow. “She could just say he’s a friend or something. This doesn’t prove anything.”

  “No, but it sure as hell takes away a lot of her credibility. You know how desperate the paps are to dish out an illicit story. I’m sure they won’t have any qualms about adding their own speculation and spin on this. Especially if we grease their palms a little.”

  I consider his words. It would be so easy to make Jayne go away. Even if she tried to respond to the photo, Coach is right; nobody would believe her. She’d go back to being a nobody, just another desperate woman trying to ruin the reputation of a sports star. It happened to Tag last year. It wouldn’t be a hard sell to convince people this was just another gold digger.

  But something doesn’t feel right.

  I need to know why before I make any decisions.

  I toss the folder back on the table, heading over to grab my duffel.

  “Hold on to that for a day, Coach. I need to make a stop first.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his mouth hanging open.

  “To get some answers.”

  I can tell by the look on her face when she opens the door that I’m the last person she expected to see standing here.

  Jayne quickly attempts to slam the door in my face, but unfortunately for her, I’m able to predict people’s actions just from the movement of their eyes. You don’t get to be the best hitter in the MLB without learning how to read people.

  I crash my hand against the door, sticking my foot inside to prevent it from closing. “I think it’s time you and I have a chat, Jaynie.”

  I don’t listen to her protests as I shove past her and step inside the room.

  The man from the photo jumps up from the couch, his fists balling at his sides as he realizes what’s going on.

  I point at him. “Sit down. I’m not here to hurt anybody. But you two need to start talking.”

  Jayne skirts around me, rushing to the protection of the man in front of me. He pulls her into his arms, shielding her from me, before sinking down onto the sofa with her still in his hold.

  Dear Lord, Coach must be right. This dude is in love with her.

  Poor bastard.

  “What do you want?” the man bites out at me, his lips pulled back off his teeth in an ugly sneer.

  “I want to know why she’s telling everyone she’s pregnant with my kid when we all know it’s not true.”

  Jayne cowers down in his hold further, whimpering against his chest. I roll my eyes.

  “Oh, please. Don’t give me that frightened doe-eyed act, Jayne. It might work with this guy, but I know better. You’re nothing if not tough as nails. So, drop it.”

  Her eyes narrow at me as she sits up straight, pushing Random Asshole’s arms from around her shoulders.

  “Tough as nails but still not good enough for Brandon Jeffers.”

  I exhale slowly. “So, that’s what this is about. You’re seriously so pissed off that I found somebody else, you’re willing to destroy my life because of it?”

  “You had no qualms about destroying my heart. Why should I care about what happens to you?”

  My head rolls back on my shoulders. “Give it a rest, Jayne. Don’t act like you were in love with me. We both knew what this was. A good fuck. That’s it.”

  She’s up off the couch and in my face quick as a flash, her bony finger poking into my chest as she shouts, “No. That’s all it was to you, Brandon. I loved you. I loved you so much, it hurt. And, like an idiot, I held out hope that, someday, you’d
realize you loved me, too. So, I let you have your fun. I cried myself to sleep whenever you silenced my calls after a game because I knew it meant you were with someone else. But I knew. I just knew that, if I could hold on long enough, you’d see me for what I really was. You’d finally realize you had everything you needed right here.” She crosses her hands over her chest as she says the last two words.

  My mouth falls open, shock coursing through me at her admission. I knew she’d brought up the possibility of us taking our relationship further a few times, but I had no clue she thought she loved me. I thought she just wanted to be able to tell all her friends she was dating a baseball star.

  “Jayne, I had no idea—”

  “No, of course you didn’t. Because the only things you cared about were your stupid team and your stupid dick. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that you were hurting an actual human being. You just tossed me aside like a piece of garbage, only too happy to leave me behind for your shiny new toy. It wasn’t fair. It isn’t fair. I loved you first.” She spins around as she finishes, covering her face with her hands as she bursts into tears.

  The man on the couch stands, pulling her into his arms, even after everything she just admitted.

  I don’t get it. I seriously don’t understand why he’d want to hold her after she just admitted that she was in love with me and was doing all this to get back at me.

  “The baby is yours.” I meant it to come out as a question, but instead, it’s a statement. Because I already know the answer. I knew the second I saw the way he looked at her.

  He nods.

  “Why? Why are you okay with all this?”

  He smooths Jayne’s hair as she cries against his chest. I’m not sure she can even hear the words I’m saying; her sobs are so loud that they nearly drown out everything else in the room.

  He shoots me a cutting glare. “You broke her. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to put her back together again. Even if I don’t necessarily agree with it. Because I love her.”

  It still doesn’t make any sense, but I don’t push the issue. I’m done with these people.

  I reach into my jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. I toss it on the table before me, giving the guy holding Jayne a stern look. “Take that and go. I don’t care where. But get the hell out of here and never talk to the press again. I have evidence she’s lying. If you cooperate, nobody will ever have to know anything. If not, you’ll be forcing my hand.”

  The man’s eyes move from the money to me a few times before he nods. “You won’t hear from us again.”

  I spin on my heel, striding toward the door without looking back.

  A weight lifts off my shoulders as I step out onto the stoop, hearing the latch of the door as I pull it closed behind me.

  Their relationship is all sorts of fucked up, but there is a small part of me that’s glad Jayne has finally found someone who can give her what she wants. What she probably deserves, despite her actions this past week.

  People do crazy-ass things for love.

  Sometimes, they make up stories.

  Sometimes, they go along with things they know are wrong.

  And, sometimes…

  Sometimes, they pay assholes in the airport to shut the fuck up, so they can kiss their girl one more time.

  Love makes people crazy.

  But I wouldn’t change it for the world.

  Chapter 27

  Liv

  “Are you mad?”

  The deep rumble of Brandon’s voice in his chest vibrates against my ear, startling me from the near sleep I started drifting into.

  “Hmm?” I hum, feathering my lashes against his bare chest.

  We’re curled up in his giant bed in the apartment in Seattle. If I had it my way, we’d never leave this spot.

  “Are you mad I went to visit Jayne?”

  I shake my head, lifting my hand to run my fingers over the ridges of his abs. I will never tire of looking at this man’s body. I still can’t believe he’s mine.

  “No. I understand why you did it. Even if I can’t understand them.”

  “You and me both. But at least we won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

  “You’re sure they’re going to drop it?”

  Brandon’s fingers glide up my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “I’m sure. I don’t think the guy really wanted to do it in the first place. He was just going along with Jayne.”

  “So, she was in love with you.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  Brandon exhales deeply. “She thinks so. I highly doubt it though. I think she was more in love with the idea of me than the actual man.”

  I scoff. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re a pretty great guy.”

  “Because of you. You make me want to be a better person. But, before you…I was a grade-A asshole.”

  “Even still, I have to admit, I feel a little sorry for her.”

  Brandon slides away from me a bit, his brows pulling together as he looks at me. “You feel sorry for her?”

  I nod. “Well, yeah. She was in love with you for all those years. And then I came along and stole you right out from under her.”

  He moves back into his original position, pulling me tight against his chest once more. “You didn’t steal anything. I was never hers to begin with. I’ve always been yours. I’m pretty sure I was born to be yours.”

  I purse my lips in a small smile, and he must feel the movement against his skin because he pokes me in the side.

  “What’s that look for?”

  I giggle as I turn my face into him. “Nothing. I still can’t get used to how cheesy you are sometimes. It’s hard to believe you’re some badass baseball player when you say things like ‘I was born to be yours.’”

  Before I know what’s happening, he rolls us so that he’s on top of me, pressing just enough of his weight into me so that I can’t move but not enough that it’s uncomfortable.

  “I’ll show you cheesy. Prepare yourself to be dipped in a vat of Gouda. Topped with mozzarella. And covered in cheddar, just for good measure. Because I don’t intend to ever stop telling you how much I love you.”

  He lowers his lips to mine, claiming them in a fiery kiss. I moan into his mouth, and he takes it as an invitation to slide his hands further south.

  His deft fingers linger on my breasts for a moment, tweaking my nipples until the stiff peaks strain against my shirt.

  “Brandon, please…” I groan into his mouth. “I can’t do slow tonight. I need you now.”

  His tongue darts into my mouth as his hand slides down my stomach, toward my center. I raise my hips off the bed, hoping to speed his movements, when his mouth rips from mine, his hands leaving my body as he shoots up off the bed.

  “What was that?” he all but shouts as he pants.

  “What?” I ask, breathless and a little irritated that he’s left me hanging.

  “Your…your stomach. It moved.”

  My gaze travels slowly up from the erection in his boxers to his face, and I can’t hold back the explosion of laughter that erupts when I see the terrified look I find.

  “It was just the baby. Bean has been moving a lot more in the last few days. I was hoping you’d get a chance to feel it.”

  “Bean?” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve taken to calling him or her. Since we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, I figure Bean is as good a name as any.”

  He lets out a breath. “Bean it is then. Though I will veto that if you try to write it on the birth certificate.”

  I laugh. “Don’t worry; I have no intention of traumatizing our child.”

  His face lights up at my words. “I like that. Our child.”

  He climbs back on the bed, rolling over so that his face is propped up on his hands in front of my stomach, his gaze intent on my growing baby bump.

  “Well, you’d better get used to it. Because this ki
d is sticking around for the next eighteen years.”

  “Make Bean move again,” he demands, his face lit up like a kid in line to see Santa.

  I chuckle. “It’s not exactly something I can control. Believe it or not, this baby has a mind of its own. And he or she is stubborn. Just like their father.”

  “But I want to see it. And feel it again.”

  I reach down, brushing my fingers through the hair that’s fallen over his forehead. “Don’t worry; if you wait long enough, Bean’s sure to move again.”

  “Do you want to find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks, his eyes never once leaving my belly.

  I think for a moment. Up until this point, I thought I did, never having been one for surprises.

  But my entire life has become one big surprise.

  Brandon. The baby. The store.

  We never know what life has planned for us, curveballs coming when you least expect them.

  But that’s half of the fun.

  “I think we should wait,” I say, ruffling his hair once again. “Unless you’d rather know,” I tack on to the end, knowing I’m not the only one who gets to make these decisions anymore.

  He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter to me if it’s a boy or a girl. I’ll love Bean all the same. Let’s wait.”

  And, when my stomach flutters again and Brandon’s face breaks out into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, I can’t help but feel as if everything in my life has led up to this very moment.

  All the years with my mother. All the times I thought I’d never be enough.

  It all brought me here.

  To the bed of a baseball superstar, a life we both created growing in my belly.

  Brandon Jeffers specializes in cleanups.

  On the field. In his life.

  And in my heart.

  Epilogue

  Brandon

  Four Months Later