by Joanna Blake
GO BIG
Joanna Blake
GO BIG OR GO HOME.
That's how I live and how I play. With women and baseball… I'm always the biggest player on the field.
I grew up poor. Dirt poor. I learned early that a fist or a smile could get me out of almost any sticky situation. My swing is what got me out of the sticks for good.
Now I'm in the spotlight, playing in the big leagues, and the club's owner wants me to be their charity spokesperson. It's for a good cause. I just need to deal with the bossy woman who runs the show.
His daughter.
Camille Rivers is the heir to the richest man in America. She's the most stubborn woman I've met in my life. With all her wealth and manners, you would think she'd be a little nicer to her daddy's star player.
Spoiled and prissy, Camille is everything I should stay away from. The problem is, I just can't keep my hands off her.
I think she's playing hard to get because she likes me. She thinks it's because I'm a horse's rear end. Either way, she doesn't complain too much when I'm kissing her.
She's used to getting what she wants. Then again, so am I. And what I want is her.
*GO BIG is a stand alone sports romance with a guaranteed HEA and no cheating! This edition contains bonus materials with exclusive NEW EPILOGUES for a limited time only!*
Note on the contents:
This edition contains bonus materials including the full MAN CANDY trilogy: GRIND, HEAT and DEEP - with three brand new exclusive EPILOGUES!
These stories are stand alones with some connecting characters.
Enjoy!
Copyright © 2016 Joanna Blake
For all the friends who invited me to parties over the years. I’m sorry I stayed home and read (not really). I do love you!
Chapters
GO BIG
Prologue - Remotely
Chapter One - Bratily
Chapter Two - Watchfully
Chapter Three - Sportily
Chapter Four - Eligibly
Chapter Five - Teasingly
Chapter Six - Oafishly
Chapter Seven - Rakishly
Chapter Eight - Spunkily
Chapter Nine - Willingly
Chapter Ten - Mutually
Chapter Eleven - Sultrily
Chapter Twelve - Wistfully
Chapter Thirteen - Thornily
Chapter Fourteen - Unseemly
Chapter Fifteen - Zestfully
Chapter Sixteen - Cruelly
Chapter Seventeen - Scantily
Chapter Eighteen - Erectly
Chapter Nineteen - Sweetly
Chapter Twenty - Frankly
Chapter Twenty-One - Dizzily
Chapter Twenty-Two - Handily
Chapter Twenty-Three - Jerkily
Chapter Twenty-Four - Loyally
Chapter Twenty-Five - Huskily
Chapter Twenty-Six - Narrowly
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Gruffly
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Lustily
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Lovingly
Chapter Thirty - Joyously
Chapter Thirty-One - Wickedly
Six Months Later - Dreamily
Note From Author
MAN CANDY Trilogy - THREE bonus books with exclusive new epilogues
GRIND
Chapter One - Shameless
Chapter Two - Shirtless
Chapter Three - Princess
Chapter Four - Fondness
Chapter Five - Fruitless
Chapter Six - Sickness
Chapter Seven - Ruthless
Chapter Eight - Pitiless
Chapter Nine - Tactless
Chapter Ten - Softness
Chapter Eleven - Boldness
Chapter Twelve - Fearless
Chapter Thirteen - Kindness
Chapter Fourteen - Reckless
Chapter Fifteen - Mindless
Chapter Sixteen- Elusiveness
Chapter Seventeen - Smugness
Chapter Eighteen - Courageousness
Chapter Nineteen - Luckless
Chapter Twenty - Loneliness
Chapter Twenty One - Progress
Chapter Twenty Two - Rootless
Chapter Twenty Three - Nearness
Chapter Twenty Four - Limitless
Two Months Later - Togetherness
HEAT
One - Inebriation
Two - Admiration
Three - Probation
Four - Attraction
Five - Frustration
Six - Exploitation
Seven - Consolation
Eight - Perspiration
Nine - Accusation
Ten - Reflection
Eleven - Sensation
Twelve - Destination
Thirteen - Vacation
Fourteen - Germination
Fifteen - Temptation
Sixteen - Humiliation
Seventeen - Reflection
Eighteen - Devastation
Nineteen - Equation
Twenty - Reconciliation
Twenty-One - Devotion
Twenty-Two - Revelation
Twenty-Three - Annihilation
Twenty-Four - Celebration
Six (and a half) Months Later - Creation
DEEP
Chapter One - Sugarfree
Chapter Two - Shortie
Chapter Three - Hottie
Chapter Four - Foresee
Chapter Five - Wannabe
Chapter Six - Soiree
Chapter Seven - Patootie
Chapter Eight - Fricasee
Chapter Nine - Disagree
Chapter Ten - Carefree
Chapter Eleven - Whoopie
Chapter Twelve - Groupie
Chapter Thirteen - Quickie
Chapter Fourteen - Devotee
Chapter Fifteen - Cutie
Chapter Sixteen - Sweetie
Chapter Seventeen - Meanie
Chapter Eighteen - Chickadee
Chapter Nineteen - Marquee
Chapter Twenty - Abductee
Chapter Twenty-One - Creepy
Chapter Twenty-Two - Valkerie
Chapter Twenty-Three - Free
Chapter Twenty-Four - Heartfree
Chapter Twenty-Five - Homey
Chapter Twenty-Six - Matrimony
Eight Months Later
Exclusive New MAN CANDY epilogues
Chandler
Trent
Joss
Player - Excerpt
Go Long - Excerpt
Bount To Me (Delancy Brothers Trilogy) - Excerpt
Prologue
Cade
Grease slid over my knuckles as I twisted the wrench as far as it could go. I eased up, knowing that if I pushed it too hard, it might snap. It was easy to do with an old bolt, but it took exceptional strength to do with a new one.
I smiled wearily, wiping my hands on a rag.
I just happened to be exceptionally strong.
That was me. Strong and some said, crazier than a shit house rat. And I should know. Where I'd grown up, we'd actually had a shit house.
It was a small shed with a bench built into it. Every few months we had to move it, digging a fresh hole and filling in the last one. In between we sprinkled lime down the hole after each use. It helped, but it sure as shit didn't make it smell like roses.
And it didn't keep the rats away.
I rubbed my ass, remembering the one that had bit me when I was eight years old.
Oh yeah, taking a shit in the middle of a hot July night in the sticks was a treacherous endeavor. Only a poor sonofabitch from the hills would know that. And I fit the bill to a T.
I wiped my face with a fresh rag, looking around the engine room. It was cleaner than most hospitals. That was the
best part about this job. I loved how clean it was, compared to how I'd grown up.
That, and the money.
Deep sea oil drilling was hard, dangerous work. It required strength of mind and body along with a good helping of common sense and know how. All of which I had in abundance. I'd spent my life fixing things. That's what you did when you couldn't afford to buy new.
As a result, I could pick and chose my assignments. And I did.
The rig I was working on was state of the art. New enough to be sound but not new enough that some of the glitches hadn't been worked out. I'd made sure of that after my last contract. The one that still kept me up at night, wondering what I could have done to stop the accident.
Oh yeah. I was not going to take a contract on a rig that had a sloppy crew again. One that left work undone until the last possible moment. One that got people killed.
I never made the same mistake twice.
I didn't even turn around as the foreman came in and cleared his throat. The crew was good. That didn't mean I wanted to make best friends with any of them. I'd done that once and lived to regret it.
Every damn day.
"What's up?"
"There's a guy here to see you."
Now I did look over my shoulder. We were in the middle of the South Pacific, almost a hundred miles from the nearest island. People didn't just 'drop by' for shits and giggles.
"A guy?"
"Yep. Flew in on a private helicopter. Says he's from New York City."
Chapter One
Cade
I stepped out onto the tarmac, shielding my eyes with my hand. I had no idea what time it was but the sun was brighter than satan's asshole. I grimaced, shouldering my pack. I'd slept most of the 18-hour flight from the South Pacific, where I was working on a rig.
Was working.
Past tense.
It was six months since I'd quit playing ball. One season in the minors was enough. One year to play ball. One year of glory.
I'd let myself have that before I went back to focusing on paying the bills. And lord knows, I had a lot of bills.
The oldest of six kids, I was the only one over 18. The only one with an income. I was the legal guardian of all my sisters and brothers. All five of them.
I was from a hillbilly family in the mountains, it sort of went without saying that there were a lot of dang kids.
I'd finished high school and gone right into rigging. Do not pass go. Do not collect one hundred dollars. I'd missed a lot of keggers and women but I didn't have a choice. While some guys my age were in college, I was a welder on deep sea rigs for four years. I'd worked my way up the ladder to senior welder by hard work and determination.
But then an accident killed one of my best friends right in front of me.
My whole attitude towards life had been turned upside down when that pipe blew. The fleeting nature of it. Oil spraying everywhere, catching fire, taking Jones out with it. I had tried to help him - to get close enough to smother the blaze - but it was over too fast.
It was the longest two minutes of my life.
The unfamiliar helplessness. The horror of it all. The rage at the stupidity that had caused it.
One badly soldered joint and a man was gone.
That moment changed everything. My life pretty much flashed in front of my eyes. And I hadn't much liked what I saw.
I'd seen a lot of wasted opportunities. I'd had women by the bucketful. Fights that were legend back home, to this day. Tragedy by way of a dark and dirty home life. Dead dad, drunk absentee mother. An off kilter spinster aunt who'd done her best by us, on next to nothing. But for all that, even I had some high points.
And just about all of those high points had been on the field. I was good at playing ball. Really good. A natural, some said.
But I had money to make, and bills to pay. A whole hell of a lot of bills. I loved those kids like they were my own. Hell, in a way they were my own. I was more than a sibling to them. I was practically daddy.
So what the hell was I doing here in Florida?
I grinned, pulling out my sunglasses and holding them in front of my eyes.
Fuck it if I wasn't here to play ball.
Spring training. Then up the East Coast to play for arguably the best team in the league.
My year in the minors had been exceptional, even I knew that. They'd offered me good money to stay. Not rigging money, but a lot for the minors. Begged me even. But I knew I could make tripple time on hazard pay out on a rig. So I'd left.
Meanwhile, the pro teams had taken notice of my record-breaking year. Nobody had more hits that year. Nobody had more homers.
They started calling me "the wrecker' after I'd destroyed more than my fair share of bats with my monster swing.
So, I'd taken a few calls. Even got a few invites to visit some big league teams. But only one team had sent a representative all the way out to the rig.
And he'd made me an offer I couldn't refuse.
Money. So much money it made my head spin. A three-year contract.
Hell, they'd even gotten me a place to live. A fancy ass New York City apartment with enough bedrooms for my family to come and visit. I'd be sending an even bigger check home every month. Forget new shoes, I was going to buy those kids a new house.
I stuck a stick of gum in my mouth and threw my jacket over my shoulder. The sun was shining. The birds were singing.
It was a beautiful fucking day to be alive.
Camille
"No! Not that one. The blue silk."
I waved my hand in the air, trying not to lose my temper. My new maid was running in circles trying to keep up. I closed my eyes in annoyance. The dim-witted girl couldn't seem to keep anything straight. I wanted to tell her to get out of my room and not come back again. But my father's disapproving face hovered in the back of my mind.
'You're too hard on people Camille. Not everyone is perfect Camille. We can't all be YOU Camille.'
I stared at my face in the mirror and willed my rapidly escalating blood pressure into submission.
I will not fire another maid.
I will not fire another maid.
I will not fire another maid.
Maybe if I clicked my heels together three times she would suddenly become capable. Helpful. As it was, she was lacking in the domestic arts. She'd already ruined some fragile lingerie by bleaching it for no reason and burned a hole in one of my favorite dresses with an iron.
I blinked at my reflection. I could always do without a maid… then again, I was so busy I barely had time to use the bathroom, let alone manage all my clothes or cleaning up after Uzuri.
If I was going to make it to opening day of Spring Training, I was going to have to do it myself. And I had to be there to show support. As father reminded me constantly, I was the heir to the throne.
Our throne just happened to be built out of bats.
Thankfully, my hairdresser was exemplary. Always on time, always efficient, and most importantly, always quiet. Other women may enjoy chattering their days away, but not me. I had things to do and a limited amount of time to do it.
Not only was I a board member of numerous art funds, notably the Ballet and several museums, but I single handedly managed the team's charitable functions. Most of those involved children. I shuddered. Not just children. Sick children.
Nothing made me more nervous than the children's wing of the hospital we had funded. The children always stared at me as if they wanted to touch me. They seemed to be drawn to me for some reason, always wanting a hug when I visited the hospital. Wanting to play with my hair or touch my skin.
It's not that I didn't like children. They were cute, in an abstract way. And I certainly wanted to help fund the research that would help them get well. Or even better yet, prevent future children from getting ill at all.
But I didn't like them staring at me.
Or touching me.
Or hugging me.
Not just children either.
I didn't generally like being touched by anyone. I shivered, remembering the time I'd travelled home from boarding school on a public train. Grandmother had been using the second limo so my father had instructed me to travel by rail. He was always harping about being 'one of the people' and how I was 'missing out on real life.'
I hadn't enjoyed it at all. The seats, the smells, the other people brushing past me. But especially the staring. Every single person had seemed to stare at me. Into me. To this day, I cringed at the thought.
I'd taken two showers that night. And I hadn't spoken to my father for the entire spring vacation.
After that, we'd gotten a third limo.
Now we each had one. And we each had a driver at the ready at each of our homes. I paid for my own, from my trust, which I also managed. I'd doubled it in the two years since my eighteenth birthday.
I smiled as I glanced out the window at my new Italian sports car, sitting pretty in the driveway outside.
Of course these days, I liked to drive myself.
"This one ma'am?"
I closed my eyes again, praying for patience.
"No."
I brushed past her to pull out the French blue silk shift I was planning to wear. I paused, looking over my shoulder at the trembling maid. I couldn't remember her name but I forced myself to give her a small smile.
"But thank you."
I was congratulating myself on being nice to my maid when she shrieked behind me, nearly making me drop the dress as I slid it over my head. I grit my teeth, turning to see her standing in the corner staring at Uzuri. I'd told the girl ten times already that the cat was not dangerous, no matter how large and wild looking she was.
I reached down to scratch her head as she twined between my ankles.
