Quarterback's Secret Baby (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)

by Ivy Jordan

  I walked into my bedroom, surprised that not much had changed. It was like stepping back a decade in time. Posters lined my walls, CD’s scattered across the top of my dresser, and the same black silk sheets that I just had to have in high school were spread across my queen-size mattress.

  My father’s voice echoed down the hall from somewhere far away: “You stupid little fuck, I’m gonna kill you.” I shuddered from the clarity of the memory.

  Tremors rolled through me like a cold chill from hearing his voice so clear once again. I remembered his fist always headed towards me, the smell of Jack spewing from his mouth as he screamed in a drunken stupor, and the fear I felt whenever he was around. He called it respect, but I called it abuse. How could you respect a man who drank all the time, beat his only son, and ran off his mother? At times, I wondered if he’d killed her, possibly buried her body beneath the tree he refused to chop down. He was mean enough, and as a kid, it was more comforting a thought than believing a mother would just leave her child when only an infant.

  “Knock, knock,” a strange male voice sounded down the hall.

  I snapped out of my thoughts long enough to hear the front door creak as it was opened. In the living room of my childhood home stood a man, tall, lanky, hair so blonde it was nearly white, and skin so tan it leathered. He sported a smile, showing off his bright white teeth as he extended his hand. “Clinton Massey, your neighbor. Well, your dad’s neighbor,” he stammered.

  “Elijah Grant,” I shook his hand, still wondering why he was standing in my living room.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he grinned. I was shocked that he’d heard about me at all. “Why don’t you come to dinner tonight, my wife makes a mean huli huli chicken,” he offered.

  “I just had a hell of a long flight. I’m gonna settle in, get things sorted here, and probably just grab something local with a nice cold beer,” I declined politely.

  “Okay, well if you need anything, we are just right next door,” Clinton reminded me, and then stepped out of the door. He was so cheerful, so excited to meet me. It still threw me off that he’d heard of me. What kind of things did my dad say?

  Chapter Six

  Taylor

  Files stacked up on my dining room table, mocking me for neglecting them so long. I shouldn’t have wasted time on that horrible date Madison set me up on. I should’ve stayed home and worked on these files.

  Tomorrow would be my first day, and I knew I had a full day. I checked my schedule, gathered the names of my five patients I’d see, and then pulled their files from the stack.

  Most were Navy veterans, which I loved. Even though my brother and now father were both gone, having Navy patients somehow made it seem as though a part of them was still here, still with me.

  The first patient was Milton, an older retired Navy vet with major depression. His kids were all living in the States, and his wife had passed about a year ago. There were a lot of similarities between him and my father, making me eager to meet him in person. The only ones that stood out to me in the other four was a younger Navy veteran, suffering from PTSD.

  Even though I wasn’t in New York, living out my dream, at least I felt I could be of some help to people who were close to my heart.

  My stomach grumbled as I leaned back in my chair. It was getting late, and there wasn’t anything to eat in the house. A trip to the store would do me good. The sun had started to go down, and the air was nice and cool instead of the hot, humid air that plagued the island most of the afternoon.

  I scooted the chair back and reached behind me, pulling my hair into a tight ponytail, wrapping it tightly with a band, and then curling it into a bun on top of my head. It was damp from sweating most of the day, and having it lifted from my neck was a sweet relief as the cool air kissed my nape.

  My phone buzzed, vibrating across the table as Madison’s name flashed on the screen. I really didn’t want to deal with any questions about Johnny, and what I thought about him, but I knew I’d have to sooner or later. “Hello,” I greeted her as I slid my finger across the button to answer.

  “Hey girl; how are you doing?” Madison asked in her usual chipper voice.

  “I’m good. I was just headed out to grab some groceries,” I admitted, hoping that she’d get the hint that I didn’t have long to talk.

  “What did you think about Johnny?” she probed, her voice obviously filled with hope.

  “I don’t think were compatible,” I replied politely.

  “He really liked you. You’re all he’s talked about,” she boasted. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “First dates are rough, and I think he was nervous. He said he wasn’t expecting you to be so beautiful,” Madison added.

  I didn’t want to tell her I thought he was a jerk, that I thought her boyfriend was a bigger jerk. “There just wasn’t anything there for me. He’s a sweet guy, sure he’ll snatch up some lucky lady soon enough,” I offered, feeling pity for that so-called lucky woman. Poor girl.

  “Why not give it one more chance? We can all spend the day at the beach next weekend, or maybe a picnic one afternoon this week?” she suggested.

  “I think I just want to be single for a while. I just moved here, and I have this practice that will take up a lot of my time. It’s not fair to ask someone to put up with my crazy life just yet,” I explained, feeling I was being more than polite about the topic she continued to push on me.

  “I understand. Stop by the shop tomorrow on your way into work and I’ll have one of my donut sandwiches ready for you,” she chirped. That I could handle, although if I ate them very often, I would be a hundred pounds overweight.

  “I’ll do that,” I replied, and then said my goodbyes.

  I shoved my phone into my purse and grabbed my keys on the way out the front door. The nearest grocery store was in town, about three miles, and didn’t have a very wide selection, but it was too late to make a trip across town to the larger market, so it would have to do for now.

  There were a few cars in the parking lot of the store, and I noticed on the hours posted as I walked in; there were only about thirty minutes to shop and get checked out. It was a good thing it was a small store.

  I grabbed a basket and started down the first aisle. I was used to New York prices, but these were even worse. I shrugged as I pushed a box of cereal into my basket, a few bags of cookies, and then a bag of chips. “You really should eat healthier,” a voice sounded from behind me. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, causing me to jolt as I turned around. Elijah Grant, my brothers best friend and SEAL brother, stood there with a wild smile and beautiful dark eyes.

  “Oh my God,” I gushed, my smile tearing at my cheeks.

  “Little Taylor, I thought that was you,” he said, his voice deep and delicious.

  “Not so little anymore,” I smiled, still in awe that he was standing there in front of me. It had been years since I’d seen him; possibly the last time was at my brother's funeral.

  “No, you certainly are not,” his words dripped like honey from his lips.

  “What are you doing back here? I thought you moved to Miami or somewhere in Florida,” I diverted the topic and decided to brush off his flirting as simple small talk.

  “I did. I’m here to get my dad’s house ready to sell. He passed away last week,” he explained so calmly it was eerie. I knew he didn’t have a great relationship with his father, my brother mentioned a time or two about how Mr. Grant was a mean drunk, and that he admired Elijah for becoming a better person than the one he was raised to be. Right now, I felt that distance when he spoke about his father’s death. I admired him as well. He was strong, kind, and from what I heard through the grapevine, pretty damn successful.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I consoled him, even though he showed no signs of needing it. My hand rested on his shoulder, and I was pretty sure my consoling was an excuse to touch him. His body was tight, muscular, and the longer my hand rested on him, the more
aware I was of having a vagina between my legs. Damn, I’d forgotten Elijah was so good looking.

  “I’m okay, really, but thank you. I just have to fix the house, get it ready to sell, and then I’m out of this place. Why are you back? Just visiting? I heard you flew off to New York to be a shrink or something,” he chuckled.

  I blushed as his eyes stared into mine. “I did. My dad just passed away too, so I came back home. I couldn’t stand selling the house, so I’m staying for now, I guess. There’s a lot of work to do there as well. Guess getting older made it tough to keep up with,” I left out the painful details surrounding my dad’s death.

  “Oh, Taylor. I’m so sorry to hear that. Your dad was a great man, one of the good ones.” He showed more emotion now than with his own father’s death.

  The pain and sincerity in his eyes were both sexy, and comforting. “He was. Thank you,” I smiled, fighting back my tears. I still hadn’t accepted that he was really gone yet, and I certainly hadn’t accepted why.

  “Why don’t you let me take you to dinner while I’m here?” Elijah suggested.

  My stomach flipped as I thought about the blind date I’d just had. It had me convinced that being alone was much better, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to date ever again. But, this was Elijah, an old family friend, and he wasn’t staying. What could it hurt? The fact that he was dreamy and delicious, that was just a bonus. I knew I’d never let myself go with someone who wasn’t sticking around. He was safe. “I’d like that,” I agreed.

  I pulled out my phone and asked for his number. I could feel his eyes on me as I entered the digits, and then clicked the call button. He reached for his phone, quickly opening it to answer my call. “Now you can call me to set it up,” I smiled.

  “How about tomorrow night?” he questioned.

  A lump formed in my throat at his eagerness. “Okay,” I agreed quickly, too quickly. “It’s my first day back to work, so we should plan on a late dinner if that’s okay with you,” I added.

  “You’re worth the wait,” he grinned. “Better get your shopping done; they are closing up in a few minutes,” he warned with a mischievous smile that made my breasts ache.

  I watched as he walked away and towards the cash register. When he turned back towards me, his smile caught me off guard, causing me to snap out of my trance. I quickly made my way through the store, grabbing the basics—frozen pizza, fruit, eggs, milk—and headed towards the front.

  My heart raced as I realized I had a date with Elijah Grant.

  Chapter Seven

  Elijah

  I walked into my dad’s old office feeling a sensation of coldness run down my spine. The air conditioning in the place was blasting, but it felt more surreal than that. It was eerie.

  “Elijah,” Karen immediately greeted me cheerfully. The lenses in her glasses had become thicker, and the black in her hair had started to fade to gray, but other than that, my dad’s old secretary looked the same.

  “Hey, Karen. I just came to clean up dad’s office,” I explained, opening my arms to embrace her as she moved towards me.

  Her head nestled in my chest, and her arms pulled me in tight. “I’m so sorry, Elijah,” she whispered as our embrace ended.

  People kept telling me how sorry they were. I didn’t really understand why. I was glad he was gone. One less mean drunk bastard in the world. “I’ll be quick,” I promised and made my way down the hall to my dad’s old private office.

  He hadn’t practiced law in years, but he still came in to go over cases and tell the other partners what they were doing wrong. Like he knew everything.

  “Elijah, good to see you,” John Sanderson greeted me as I turned to walk into the small office where my dad had cluttered piles of papers and files everywhere.

  “I didn’t realize you were a partner,” I acknowledged, curious as to why he wouldn’t have brought that up. Guess I should’ve known. I didn’t know much about my dad or his life, not really. Once I left, I stayed gone. Even when we were stationed on the island, I didn’t visit.

  “Yes. I have some papers for you to sign, if you don’t mind,” he asked.

  I looked around my dad’s office. It was a mess. A lifetime collection of junk, pure junk. “I won’t be long here,” I said.

  “My office is just to the right,” he motioned in the direction.

  I nodded and walked into the cluttered room as John patted me on the back.

  A picture of me at graduation was on his desk, and then another of me in my SEAL uniform. Guess he wanted people to believe he was proud of his son, even though he couldn’t care less if I believed it.

  I opened up each drawer, finding nothing but junk in each, until the last one. I pulled out a large folder that had my name on it. Every clipping of my name in the paper was inside, pictures of me he’d obviously gotten from my social media pages, and all the cards I sent out of obligation for each holiday, even though I never got one back.

  I’d seen enough. I wasn’t in the mood to stroll down memory lane. There weren’t any good memories that I could recall. Fuck it.

  I left the office and made my way to John’s. He was sitting behind a neat and organized desk in an office that was clearly cared for, with bookshelves free of clutter, and pictures of his family on the wall. “You can burn all that crap in there,” I half-chuckled, pointing towards my dad’s office.

  “He was a hoarder,” John laughed. “We’ll take care of it. I realize you have enough to do,” he added.

  “I got a call from someone telling me to pick up my dad at the funeral parlor,” I mentioned, curious if he had any more details on that task.

  “Yes. He wanted to be cremated, no ceremony. His ashes are yours to keep,” John said with a forced smiled. Great, just what I wanted.

  It wasn’t worth arguing. I’d pick him up. I was his son, after all. I had no intentions of keeping the ashes for any sentimental reasons. I’d scatter them around that ugly fucking tree he loved, or maybe dump them in the pool he’d never let me fill.

  “I have a few papers for you to sign. Insurance money, his savings, the deed to the property, and the car title have all been left to you. You’ll also receive a two percent profit annually from the practice as agreed upon by all the partners,” John informed me. “He left it all to you,” he smiled.

  Who else was he gonna leave it to? I was his only son. He didn’t have family, and he certainly didn’t have friends—at least none that I was aware of.

  John pushed the papers towards me, and I grabbed the pen on his desk and scribbled my name. “I want to get the house sold,” I said abruptly.

  “I know. The market is rough right now, so it may take a while to sell. I assessed the condition, and I estimate about a month of work to get it ready for the market,” John pointed out.

  I knew he was being generous with the amount of time it would take to repair the house, but it still sucked. I didn’t want to be here a month. I didn’t want to be here at all. “I understand if you can’t take this on right now. We can hire someone to take over, but I can’t take it on myself with all the cases I’m loaded up with right now,” John explained.

  I didn’t want to hire anyone. I hated the thought of paying someone to do what I could do. I had plenty of time off. Isaac wouldn’t need me around for a while, and I could handle my day trading business from anywhere, even this beautiful hell hole. “I’ll handle it,” I stated.

  “Well, like I said before, anything you need, don’t hesitate to call,” John stood, extending his hand to mine.

  He had a firm grip, a solid shake, and a confidence my dad never had of his own. I felt bad taking any of the profits from the business that I was well aware my father most likely tried to run into the ground while he practiced. He was a drunk: a sarcastic, arrogant, mean drunk. Men like John were the ones who kept businesses moving forward, not men like my dad.

  “Everything will be mailed to your father’s address since you’ll be staying around a while,” he concluded and the
n nodded in my direction as I headed for the door.

  I stopped by the funeral home and picked up the urn with my dad’s ashes. I put the urn in the passenger seat of his old Chevelle and strapped it in with the seatbelt. I felt foolish with him riding beside me, and a little spooked. I was careful with the brakes so I wouldn’t topple him over and spill him into the floorboard. The last thing I wanted to do was shopvac my father from the classic car’s carpeting. It had to decrease the value.

  I set dear ole dad on the kitchen counter next to the coffee machine. I didn’t know what the fuck to do with him. I looked at the clock, realizing I only had about an hour before I picked Taylor up for dinner, so I decided to leave him on the counter. He had a view of the backyard, and the coffee grounds were right next to him, so maybe they’d hit it off.

  I stripped out of my clothes, reached into the shower and turned it on a cool stream before stepping inside. The water felt refreshing on my shoulders and rolling down my back. It’d been a long day, and spending the evening with Taylor was just what I needed.

  Little Taylor Madden, Tommy’s little sister. I couldn’t believe how much she’d grown since I saw her last. She still wore her hair up in a tight bun, and refused to wear contacts instead of her glasses, but even so, she was a knockout. Damn, I couldn’t wait to see her.

  I grabbed a towel as I shut off the water and quickly dried off. I was excited, more so than I’d ever been. I knew if Tommy was alive he’d punch me in the nuts for trying to hook up with his sister, but it was more than that. I liked Taylor, I always had, and there wasn’t anything bad growing in my mind about taking her out. I respected her. I respected Tommy.