Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Irons, Aubrey

  Whoa.

  Agent Riley looks at me sharply. “I’d send that aunt some flowers, if I were you. When she called, she wanted us to be sure to know that you,” he jabs a finger at my chest, “that you were ‘one of the good ones’.”

  I grin.

  “I’m going to need you to come down at some point and answer some basic questions, but other than that, I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other much.”

  I frown, that last lingering thought in my head scratching to get out.

  “So, that’s it?”

  He nods slowly. “Declan and this Jerry character had prints that checked out with an open case - this armored truck robbery down outside Boston about eight years ago.”

  He grins thinly at me. “But of course, a good kid like you wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he.”

  I swallow.

  Agent Riley chuckles. “Relax. The prints match up, and I’m pretty a-okay closing an otherwise dead case. What do you think?”

  I bring my hand up and run my fingers through my hair. “I’ve lately decided that cleaning up lingering messes is a good idea.”

  He grins. “Let me know if you ever finish that tour guide for Dublin,” he half-turns to the backdoor.

  “Smart-ass.”

  He steps back into the kitchen, thanking Jacob and Irene and apologizing for interrupting dinner.

  And then he’s gone.

  And another chapter closes.

  “You are not that lucky,” Ivy mutters into my ear.

  I laugh as I turn and scoop her into my arms, pulling her against me.

  “Oh yeah? Think I should go correct his mistake?”

  “Don’t you even think about leaving me,” she murmurs, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me.

  “Alright, alright,” Jacob growls behind us, breaking us apart again.

  He wags a finger at me. “Watch those hands under my roof, son,” he says with an arched brow and a grin on his face.

  Ivy goes bright red.

  “Shall we eat?”

  Irene steps onto the back porch with a tray of barbecue chicken.

  We follow her and Jacob down the steps and through the yard to the big wooden table - Rowan, Stella and Carter, Sierra, and Ivy.

  And me.

  All together, sitting at one table, eating one family meal.

  Exactly how I remember.

  And damn is it perfect.

  42

  Ivy

  I wake up in the morning to the smell of bacon.

  Yep, I’m home.

  I feel like I’ve been thinking about how much this feels like home ever since I got here, except it hasn’t quite been there. It hasn’t quite felt perfect until this very morning, because something was missing.

  And no, it wasn’t bacon cooking.

  It’s the man I know is sleeping on the couch down in the basement rec room.

  Silas, of course.

  Yes, I’m twenty-six years old. Yes, I’m a grown adult woman capable of having mature, adult relationships. Yes I’m married, for crying out loud. But my dad letting Silas Hart share a bed with me under his roof?

  Not in a million years.

  Some things never do change.

  I swing my legs out of bed and stretch, glancing at the phone still lying on the pillow next to where I slept and feeling my face get red. He might have been on the couch downstairs, but that didn’t stop a very steamy string of texts followed by a hushed, gasping phone conversation to take place anyways.

  I pull on my old softball t-shirt and a pair of loose pajama pants, ducking my face in front of a mirror and doing…something with my hair before I open my bedroom door and head downstairs. The smell of bacon, pancakes, and sweet, sweet coffee hits my nostrils, getting stronger with every step.

  The hallway door to the basement cracks open as I get to the bottom of the stairs, and I stop and grin at the sleepy, bleary-eyed man still pulling a shirt on that steps out into the light.

  “Hey sleeping beauty.”

  He jumps at the sound of my voice before he turns and grins at me.

  “Hey yourself, gorgeous.”

  He glances behind him at the sound of voices down the hall in the kitchen before he pulls me against him, kissing my lips.

  I wink at him. “You look tired. Did you sleep well?”

  Silas’s eyes flash at mine as he pulls me against him again. “Someone kept me up, actually.”

  “Oh?” I smile innocently.

  “You know,” he murmurs. “This someone has developed quite a dirty little mouth since the last time I had phone calls like that with her.”

  I blush scarlet at the memory of the night before.

  “And I can’t wait to learn more about it,” he growls, his hand sliding up my side and brushing against my breast.

  “Breakfast!”

  The sound of my mother’s voice calling from the kitchen has us jumping apart. We both catch it and roll our eyes, realizing we’re still acting like this is some sort of illicit teen romance instead of the two married adults we actually are.

  We turn towards the kitchen, but I stop short, frowning at what’s sitting in the foyer by the front door.

  “Who’s are those?”

  Two suitcases - one jet black and silver and very important looking and the other a very expensive Prada bag lie next to each other in the middle of the floor by the door.

  I turn to see Silas looking as puzzled as I am.

  “No idea?” He grins. “Maybe it’s for us? Think they’re trying to tell us something?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, right. Irene would have us live here if we’d go for it.”

  “Would that still entail me spending every fucking night on that shitty sofa downstairs?”

  I nod. “Most certainly.”

  Silas laughs before taking my hand. “C’mon, lets go get some coffee.”

  The sound of laughter and boisterous conversation gets louder and louder until we step into the kitchen and-

  And my jaw drops.

  “Kyle?!” I scream as my youngest brother looks up from his pancakes and jumps up from his chair.

  “Slimy! You’re up!”

  I shriek as I jump into his arms before looking over his shoulder and noticing a gorgeous, elegantly dressed girl who I’ve definitely seen in tabloid magazines.

  “Oh!”

  I pull away from Kyle and cringe at the goofy pajama outfit I’m wearing while I meet my brother’s girlfriend Vivian Ames - an actual socialite - for the first time.

  “Uh, hi, I-”

  “Dude, relax,” Kyle throws an arm over my shoulder as he grins at his girlfriend. “She’s a huge fan. She buys like every skin cream you market.”

  Vivian’s faces goes red and she rolls her eyes at my brother before giving me a sheepish look.

  “It’s true, I sort of stalk you on Instagram. And oh my God, I love your new yoga line!”

  I turn to my brother. “Oh, I like her-”

  I stop suddenly as I realize Kyle is ignoring me, staring and grinning at the kitchen doorway instead.

  “Well hell,” he says evenly. “Silas freaking Hart, back for breakfast at the Hammond house.”

  There’s only a second of hesitation before he suddenly grins and grabs Silas into a big bear hug.

  “Guess I should say welcome to the family, huh brother?”

  Apparently, Kyle’s been filled in.

  Silas steps away, a huge grin on his face as he stares at Kyle in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  My dad coughs.

  “Heck, sorry,” Silas nods at my dad.

  Kyle shrugs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Look I’m sorry man, I got Rowan’s call like two weeks ago man. I’ve just been so busy. Work’s been taking all my time.”

  “Tell me about it.” Vivian sighs dramatically, bringing a laugh to the whole kitchen.

  “Hey, some of us have to work,” Kyle frowns.

  Rowan snorts. “Kyle, you�
�re literally a millionaire. Cry me a damn river, buddy.”

  Kyle grins sheepishly, but Silas looks at him curiously.

  “Phone call?”

  “About the company? Your company idea?”

  Huh?

  Kyle nods eagerly. “Dude, I’m in.”

  Silas’s jaw drops. “You’re in? Just like that? I haven’t even had a chance to tell you anything about it.”

  Kyle shrugs. “Eh, Rowan filled me in on the basics. I mean, I want to hash out some details with you, but I think we could kill it with this thing. Besides, I’m done grinding it with the Bureau, man. Apparently I’m not cut out for a regular desk job.”

  Silas is still shaking his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “Tell me you’re not messing with me, Kyle.”

  Our younger brother laughs. “I’m completely serious, man. I’m in for the whole thing. Let’s do it!”

  I shake my head as I step forward. “Hang on, hang on. You’re in for what exactly?” I raise a brow at Silas. “What company?”

  Kyle snorts. “She doesn’t know?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He grins back at my husband. “Always with the secrets, this one.” He turns back to me. “A securities firm - private, corporate, the works.”

  I turn back to stare at Silas. “Are you serious?”

  He grins as he shrugs. “I didn’t want to tell you until it was more than just an idea.” He glances at Kyle. “It’s, uh, it’s gonna take some serious startup cash. You know that, right?”

  Rowan groans over the rim of his coffee. “Dude, he’s a millionaire. Why does everyone keep forgetting that?” he says with a wink.

  “A securities firm.” I cock my head, grinning as Silas moves towards me and puts an arm around my waist.

  “A thief and a hacker, what could possibly go wrong,” Sierra says with a laugh from the breakfast table.

  “Well these pancakes could get even colder, for one thing, and I am not cooking more.” Mom arches a stern brow as she comes up behind Silas and I, ushering us towards the table.

  My siblings scoot over as Silas and my dad pull two more chairs in from the dining room. Mom brings over another stack of pancakes and a pot of coffee as we all sit and start to dig in.

  It’s crowded, and loud, and everyone’s talking over each other, and by the end of it, someone’s spilled coffee in their own lap, and there’s sticky syrup all over the place.

  But everyone’s smiling.

  Silas says something that gets the whole table cracking up before he slides an arm over my shoulders, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

  We’re all together, sitting here sharing a moment and a meal.

  One big happy family.

  And it’s perfect.

  Epilogue

  Ivy

  Emma runs across the sand, giggling as her cousin Carter chases her. She stumbles for a second before Carter catches her, both of them laughing up a storm before they run off again.

  “Is she wearing enough sunblock?”

  I grin as I turn back to look up at Silas, who I’ve been using as a beach recliner.

  Being seven months pregnant has its perks.

  “Yes, she’s wearing the SPF 9000,” I say evenly. I love how much he worries over our first daughter.

  He frowns, still watching Emma “They don’t make that.”

  “Silas.”

  He looks down and sees the sarcasm on my face.

  “Oh har-har-har,” he murmurs, grinning before he leans down to steal a kiss.

  “She’s fine, don’t worry.”

  We’re all fine.

  It’s been five years since the day on the pier of Shelter Harbor when I said yes, again. Four years and eleven months since we held a real ceremony, this time with my family present. We even got Father Murray, who married us the first time in the rectory at St. Michael’s, to come and preside over what was this time around just a formality.

  Silas and my brother Kyle started their securities company. It’s based out of New York City, so there’s a fair amount of travel involved for Silas, but its working out, and the company is doing phenomenally well.

  And he always comes home.

  “Home” being here in Shelter Harbor.

  Yeah, we stayed. We got our house, of course. No more basement couches under Jacob’s roof.

  Sierra’s friend did put me in touch with an amazing lawyer. But, it turned out I never really needed him because Blaine managed to break contract himself when he was caught on camera blowing coke at some nightclub.

  He and Ainsley are still together, for whatever that’s worth. I honestly don’t have an opinion on it.

  After that though, Lori saw no reason to sue each other, and actually asked me to stay with the management company.

  I declined.

  I went solo, and it’s been the best thing I could have done. Plus, it’s the digital age, and I could honestly do my work from anywhere. And as it happens, my fans love “quaint New England charm” in their pictures. I took my yoga line that the management company had been holding over my head for years along with me. And after Vivian put me in touch with a few of her high class trust fund friends, it launched six months after I left to a pretty huge response.

  Lululemon does carry it, by the way.

  I also expanded into a “mommy yoga” line after I found out I was pregnant with Emma, and business has been great.

  Declan’s currently serving twenty years in Walpole prison. Silas still goes to see him once a month, which at first I was appalled by, until he explained it to me.

  “Believe me, no matter how shitty you act, you can’t lose your family entirely. Nothing’s worse than that.”

  And so life goes on. Mom’s still gardening and teaching the odd piano lesson. Dad’s still giving sermon’s every Sunday. Sierra went back to her graduate program, Rowan went back to opening and closing his favorite bar six days a week, and Stella and Carter went back to being their own little team.

  And we’re right here in the thick of it. Because somehow, running from home and the places we knew only brought us right back to where we started and right back together.

  We just had to take the long way.

  But we’re home now, right where we belong.

  And nothing’s going to change that.

  The End.

  Bonus Epilogue

  Sometimes, when I finish a story, I realize I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to the characters I’ve just spent so much time with. It might sound stupid, but after giving them life, hurdles to climb over, and a true love to chase down, they become far more a part of me than just words on a page.

  Then again, hopefully that doesn’t sound stupid at all ;).

  As it happens, I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to Ivy and Silas. And so included here is the last three chapters of their story.

  I want to thank everyone for your endless and amazing support for an indie author like myself! Without further ado, kindly scroll on for the last ~5,500 words of this story.

  Please enjoy, with my compliments.

  43

  Silas

  “Are you shitting me?”

  Of course he’s not. It’s the fucking day before Christmas Eve, there’s a foot of snow on the ground, and I’d probably have to be suicidal to get on a damn plane right now anyways.

  Doesn’t mean I’m not still seeing red.

  Because I have to get home.

  The securities business Kyle and I set up is killing it these days, which is great. But it also means a shitload of traveling, which I kinda hate.

  I always get a weird sort of anxiety whenever I’m away from Shelter Harbor these days. It’s been six years since I spoke the vows a second time to the only girl I ever wanted to say them to – six years since we decided to settle down and make our lives right there in that town. But there’s something that’s always stuck with me after I spent eight years away from the place that still held my heart and the only family I ever k
new.

  I hate when I have to leave it. Especially since now it’s not just Ivy at home waiting for me. Now there’s also Emma, our three-and-a-half-year old, and Nora, our thirteen-month old waiting for Daddy to come home.

  Oh, and Lucas, technically. Ivy’s pregnant again – six and a half months, and this time with a boy.

  I was starting to feel a little out-numbered in that house.

  The house I’m currently being told I won’t be able to get to for the next three days since there’s a perfect storm of being the day before Christmas Eve, the airlines pulling their usual overbooking shit, and literally a storm of snow and ice.

  Fucking wonderful.

  “There has to be another way into Boston tonight,” I growl, the thought of my two little girls and my pregnant wife beckoning like a beacon in my head. “A private plane, fucking something.”

  The guy behind the airline desk gives me the same genuinely sincere apologetic look he’s already given me about a dozen times.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hart, but the whole Northeast has been grounded.”

  Fuck.

  I rub the bridge of my nose with my fingers, grinding my teeth before taking a deep breath.

  “Okay, how soon tomorrow morning do you think they could feasibly-”

  “How many times you gonna make the guy say no, pal?”

  I whirl on the dipshit standing in line behind me with a fury in my eyes I’m willing to bet he wasn’t quite expecting. His eyes go slightly wide as I draw up my full height and jab a finger at his pudgy chest.

  “As many fucking times as it takes to figure out how I’m going to get home in time for Christmas for my two little girls. That cool with you?”

  He swallows quickly and nods.

  “Great, thanks.”

  I turn back to the airline clerk, who does a pretty admirable job of hiding a grin.

  “If you’d like, Mr. Hart, with your corporate account with us, the airline is more than happy to put you up in deluxe accommodations for the night. We can give you a call first thing tomorrow when we know if conditions have changed.”