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

by Ivy Jordan

  I was excited to visit another place, hopefully where I’d have more memories. He took my hand and led me to the truck, helping me inside. He didn’t speak as he slid into the driver’s seat, only smiled and then pulled back onto the road. We drove another fifteen miles or so along the ocean shore. He pulled into an antique mall, then turned to me and smiled.

  “Do you remember this place?” he asked.

  I didn’t. But, I wasn’t going to get discouraged.

  Inside the large flea market-style building with long corridors filled with antiques and vintage items, the smell reminded me of something familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Isaac let me wander while he followed beside me, stopping at several of the shops to browse through the offerings.

  “You loved antiquing,” he told me.

  I believed him. This place had a strange hold on me, a tug and a pull that I couldn’t deny. I stopped at a jewelry shop, admiring the beautiful rings. The one on my finger was new, modern, and larger than my thin finger could really handle. I wondered why he’d chosen that ring and not a vintage one that I admired through the glass counter.

  “Would you like to try one on?” the woman running the shop asked eagerly.

  I shook my head, my cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. “Go ahead,” Isaac encouraged.

  I pointed into the case to a beautiful tanzanite ring; it was on a split-shank white gold setting and even though the stone was larger than the one I wore, it was more delicate. I loved the detail of the vintage ring, and for some reason, the stone drew me to it like a magnet.

  “Beautiful choice,” the woman said, reaching into the case for the ring. “Is this your birthstone?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I uttered, seriously lost on the answer to her simple question.

  “When is your birthday dear?” she asked.

  “November,” I replied.

  I took the ring from her hand and slipped it on my ring finger next to the modern one I wore. It was a perfect fit. I absolutely loved it.

  “Here,” she said, pointing to a large yellow topaz ring in a beautiful setting. “This is November’s birthstone.”

  The ring was pretty, and I loved the vintage setting, but it didn’t appeal to me like the other. “I just love the blue,” I gushed, holding the ring towards the light to watch it sparkle. Isaac was quiet, not showing much interest in my enthusiasm, and after looking at the price tag on the ring I had tried on, I lost some of my enthusiasm as well. Guilt fell over me as I realized he must be hurt that I even entertained the notion of trying on another engagement ring, let alone actually getting it. He probably worked hard to find the perfect ring for me, even though looking at it, it didn’t feel perfect.

  “I love the ring I have, but it is beautiful,” I said, handing the ring back to the lady behind the counter.

  We continued searching through the shops, and as we approached the last one in the long corridor we’d chosen to explore, I stopped at one that sold dolls. They were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, lined on shelves, sitting in old-fashioned rockers and antique cradles. They gave me the creeps with their glass eyes and stiff hair, but something pulled me into the shop anyways.

  “Oh my God,” I exclaimed, picking up a large porcelain doll with matted white hair and blue glass eyes. “I remember this doll,” I sighed.

  “That was in your house, along with a dozen other freaky-looking dolls,” Isaac said with a chuckle.

  “It was?” I gasped, unable to put her down even though she gave me the chills.

  “Yes. Your grandmother collected old dolls, clocks, bird feeders, and about everything else,” he laughed.

  “She was a hoarder?” I asked.

  “An eccentric collector,” he smirked.

  My grandmother’s face flashed through my mind, clear as a movie still. Her thin gray hair looked like a baby bird’s feathers before they fully formed, her face so wrinkled you could barely see her face structure, and bright blue eyes that were full of love. Tears began rolling down my cheeks.

  “Excuse me,” I apologized to Isaac as I headed into the ladies room.

  My breathing was heavy and labored as I tried to pull myself together. I pulled a couple towels from the dispenser and wiped my eyes. The feeling was so fresh, so new, it was like I’d lost my grandmother all over again.

  “Do you care if we go?” I asked Isaac, who stood at the exit door waiting for me patiently.

  “Of course,” he said sweetly, slipping his hand in mine. Our fingers entangled and warmth rushed over me. I was so thankful for him. And, now that I’d started to remember again, I could remember how much I loved him as a friend, so it was no wonder I fell in love with him as a lover as well.

  Isaac drove us to a secluded beach where we walked the shore, letting the cold water nip at our bare feet while carrying our shoes. I picked up seashells as we talked, reminiscing about the past, my family, and our friendship. Some of the memories he shared left me feeling lost, but some, some I could actually remember, if not the entire scenario, at least a feeling of familiarity.

  On our drive home, I was on cloud nine. I leaned back in the plush leather seat and stared out the window, watching everything pass by so quickly.

  The truck stopped at a red light next to a tall brick building. Anxiety rushed over me in a panic as I stared at the building, picturing me walking down the sidewalk next to a building just like that one. I was angry, I could feel it, and a little scared. My gut twisted in knots as the emotions flooded over me as if I were happening in that moment. A man, the one from my nightmare jerked my arm, pulling me back and causing me to lose my balance. I fell to the ground and he raised his hand and slapped me hard in the face. It was the same man from my previous nightmares. I knew him, at least it felt like I did, but why was he hurting me?

  “What’s wrong?” Isaac asked as he pulled through the green light.

  Tears fell violently down my cheeks as I began to sob uncontrollably. I couldn’t speak. Isaac pulled over into the parking lot, a pizza place, and the smell was making me sick.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked again, his voice filled with panic.

  “I was attacked, wasn’t I?” I sniffled. Isaac’s eyes filled with fear, and he didn’t answer, leading me to believe he was hiding the truth. I needed the truth; it was my truth. “Wasn’t I?” I shouted.

  “Yes,” he finally answered in a weak voice.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” I screamed.

  “Why would I? It would only hurt you. If it were up to me, you’d never remember it,” he defended.

  “But, the nightmares. You knew I was having them, and you didn’t tell me what they meant,” I argued. He said nothing.

  “Take me home,” I demanded.

  “Of course,” Isaac agreed and pulled the truck back onto the road. Home. I don’t even know where that is.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Isaac

  Maddie still wasn’t up, having slept from the time we arrived home the night before. Things had gone so well, and she was so happy; why did that memory have to surface? All of the abuse she suffered was in Portland, not here. That fucking brick building just had to be on the corner where the longest red light existed. Fuck!

  It felt like I couldn’t catch a break. Every time things started to go well between Maddie and me, something would fuck it up.

  My size-twelve shoe was still kicking myself in the ass for admitting she’d been hurt. I knew her memories were getting clearer, and it would only be a matter of time before she remembered everything. I should’ve just told her everything right then, while she was already upset, and explain that I was protecting her, but I didn’t. Dumbass!

  I hated that she slept in the guest room last night, and not in my arms. I reached for the blanket she’d tossed from her body and placed it back up around her neck. As I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, she groaned and flipped to her other side.

  I’d told Beth to stay in the office
and handle the paperwork and phones while I trailed Mr. Gallo’s latest love interest. Beth said her day trailing her was pretty boring. She shopped a lot, spent a couple hours in the salon, and then picked up her poodle from the groomers before heading to Mr. Gallo’s estate. “She seems to be clean,” Beth said, never wanting to think a woman could be as cold and calculated as a man.

  I snuck out of the room, carefully not to wake her, and headed to work. Mr. Gallo gave me her schedule for that morning, so I rushed to the country club where Mr. Gallo had given me an all-access pass as an elite guest. I was to order anything I wanted, participate in any services offered that would give me a closer look at his new love, Tatiana, a thirty-three-year-old retired stripper who worked as an escort for wealthy older men before she lucked into meeting Paul Gallo, one of the wealthiest men in Miami. Her background was rough, but I wasn’t going to go into it with pre-judgment. I was simply going to do my job.

  The place was swanky, way fancier than any place I’d been to before. I wore a jacket and tie, as requested by Mr. Gallo, so at least I felt like I fit in well enough, as long as I didn’t speak too much.

  I wandered through the large lobby and took a seat in the dining room. Tatiana was seated just a few feet from me, giving me access to any conversation she might have with whoever joined her. According to Mr. Gallo, she was meeting girlfriends, like she did every Wednesday. I ordered a glass of Scotch and the lobster tail because, hey, why not? And then watched the room as different people wandered in and out.

  After two drinks, my meal and Tatiana’s companion arrived. He was tall, good looking, and much younger than Mr. Gallo: probably younger than Tatiana as well. He scooted his seat next to hers so they could share the same side of the table. They didn’t kiss, touch, or do anything inappropriate, but then again, they were in a very public place that Tatiana’s soon-to-be fiancé frequented.

  I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they did quite a bit of laughing. She was a pretty woman, but obviously one that’d lived a rough life. Her hair was long, red, and curly, her breasts most likely fake and her best asset, but she knew how to charm a man, which was clear by the way this tool looked at her. He was under her spell.

  My meal arrived, and I worked on pulling the meat from the shell as I continued to keep an eye on the intimate, yet discreet couple.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket as I fumbled to retrieve it. Beth’s name was on the screen. What the hell does she want? She knows I’m on a stakeout. I hit ignore and figured she would text if it was something serious, or at the very least, leave a voicemail.

  The happy couple finished their small plate of appetizers and started to leave when my phone rang again. Beth again; what the fuck?

  “Excuse me, I have to go,” I flagged down a server. He smiled, nodded and started to walk away. “Isn’t there a check I need to pay?” I asked, figuring Mr. Gallo would just reimburse me.

  The man looked offended that I would ask such a horrid question. What’s up his ass? “No, sir. The bill is discretely charged to your account. Mr. Gallo’s elite guest, correct?” his tone was snobbish, even though he was offering to free me from the enormous bill.

  I didn’t wait around for him to give me any more lectures about the high society life. Okay, I get. They have tons of money but don’t talk about it. It was like it was dirty to handle actual cash, it was all done through accounts. Ugh!

  I scooted from the table and rushed towards the long hall where Tatiana and her friend disappeared to. Several doors mocked me, laughing at me as I didn’t know which one to take. I pushed through the left one and entered a large indoor Olympic swimming pool. I came back out and took the right one and entered a large sauna room where several wrinkly old men were exposing more than just their layers of flabby muscle.

  Finally, I pushed out the main door and entered a large patio. I noticed Tatiana and her friend on the long staircase leading to the tennis courts when my phone rang again. Seriously?

  I reached into my pocket and slid my finger across the screen to answer Beth’s third call. “What?” I snapped.

  “It’s Maddie,” Beth said, her tone serious and filled with stress.

  I stopped on the stairs, letting Tatiana and her friend out of my sight. My heart raced. She knows? She fucking knows? Now what?

  “She’s really upset, and I can’t calm her down,” Beth sighed with exhaustion.

  Fuck!

  Sweat beaded up on my forehead, and my fists became clammy. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to see her, not if she knew I was a liar, not if she hated me.

  “Are you there?” Beth asked.

  I paused and then sighed. “Yeah, I’m here,” I said quickly.

  “You need to come calm her down. She passed the accident site on her walk to the office and is hysterical,” Beth asserted.

  “Yes. I ju-just, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I blubbered.

  Thank God it wasn’t that her memory was back. I wasn’t ready to face that reality just yet. My heart raced as I stretched my neck down the stairs to try to spot Tatiana. She was on the tennis courts, her tall, dark friend with helping her with a backswing. Fuck. I had to go.

  I rushed back to the office through thick traffic and road work. Fifteen minutes had passed when I finally arrived, and I feared that Maddie was going to be upset I wasn’t there.

  “Where is she?” I yelled towards Beth when I walked into the office. She pointed to my office where Maddie sat in my chair. I rushed in, stopped at the desk, and stared into her beautiful blue eyes. They were bloodshot, a little puffy from where she’d been crying, but still just as breathtaking. I watched her sob and waited for a reaction, possibly one of anger, that maybe she remembered. “I’m sorry,” she cried.

  I rushed to her side, holding her in my arms. “No. Don’t be sorry,” I assured her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Her arms clung onto me, wrapping around me tightly as she continued to sob. For what felt like an eternity, but was moments in reality, she cried in my arms, breaking my heart that she was in so much pain.

  “What happened?” I asked as she finally started to pull away.

  “The accident. I remembered right before I got hit. We were running, and you were exhausted,” she giggled through her sniffles. “I had my phone and wallet in my hand,” she said.

  “They never found them,” I lied to her. There I go again, lying to the woman I love.

  “But, I know I had them,” she insisted.

  She wasn’t wrong. She did have them both. The phone was just a few feet from her, locked in my safe, and her wallet was with it, hidden to avoid her finding out her real last name. “I have to go find them,” she insisted, getting up from the chair.

  She rushed towards the door as I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “I can’t let you go back there. It’s been weeks. If anything was there, it’s long gone now. I don’t want you reliving that experience again.”

  She jerked her arm free from my loose grip and ran from the office with me right behind her. I chased her down three blocks, and then caught up to her at the light where we’d waited before she was hit. “Right there,” she gasped. “Right there is where it happened.

  I nodded. “Yes, but the cops scoured the area for your belongings,” I assured her, which was the truth. I’d scooped up the phone and wallet before they’d seen it.

  “I have to find it,” she cried, rushing across the street as soon as the light changed. My heart raced watching her walk the same path that nearly killed her. When she made it to the other side, the most amazing relief fell over me. She walked up and down the street, checking the curb and then stopping at a drain vent. “It could’ve fallen down here,” she insisted, laying on her belly to try and look into the dark hole. “I can’t see anything,” she growled.

  “The only thing down there is rats,” I stated.

  “I have to find it,” she cried.

  “Why?” I asked, gripping her arm as she stood. Sh
e wasn’t in her right mind; something had caused her to walk to the office, so she was already triggered by emotion once she noticed the street where she was hit.

  “Calm down,” I ordered in a stern voice. Her big blue eyes widened as she stared into mine.

  “I have to find it,” she said softly as I walked her to a nearby city bus bench. She sat, her breathing labored, and her stress elevating with each moment she didn’t have her phone in her hand. “It could help me figure out who I am,” she explained.

  Yes, it could. That was why I’ve kept it hidden.

  “I don’t think the phone would be able to tell you much,” I assured her.

  “It could tell me who I talked to, what we talked about, show my appointments, tell me who Rob is and why that name means something, and maybe there is a picture of the man who attacked me, the one from my dream,” she rattled.

  All of those things were true, but I couldn’t risk her finding out this way. “I know I knew him,” she sighed.

  “Let’s go home,” I suggested, gripping her hand in mine.

  “And, my wallet. I’m sure I had credit cards, my license, and all that has to be replaced,” she gasped.

  “I canceled all your cards, and we’ll get you a new license when you’re fully healed,” I promised. She stared at me, looking completely unconvinced.

  “Let’s go,” I urged.

  I stood, still gripping her hand in mine, and asked her to please come home with me. She stood, immediately pushed into my chest, and hugged me tightly. “I’m so sorry, Isaac,” she sniffled.

  “Why are you sorry?” I questioned, pulling from her embrace to look into her bloodshot eyes.

  “I just wanted to come find you at work, to tell you I remembered,” she babbled.

  “Remembered?” I asked carefully.

  “I remembered something about us,” she sighed.

  I held my breath, not intentionally, but I couldn’t breathe. What did she remember?

  “I remembered senior prom, when you asked me to dance. We weren’t together, but I remembered I wished you’d asked me instead of Sara Humphrey,” she said so sweetly.