“I promise. Timing might be a little tight, but I think we can fit it in between the end of Troy's season, your baby's birth, and ours. I'd like it before our baby is born. No real reason, just . . . I'm more old-fashioned than you guys, I guess.”
“And Cory loves you for it, Mom. He's the man who was born for you, just like Troy was for me. So yes, you have my blessing.”
We talk another few minutes before I hang up, after telling a very excited Laurie the news. I wait a while to regain my composure before going inside, where I'm immediately hit with the heavenly scent of shrimp and pesto.
“The angel hair's going on in about ten minutes,” Cory says, and I'm struck again at how handsome and comfortable he looks in a t-shirt and jeans, although he's added an apron over his shirt. He's moved the box with my engagement ring up onto the higher shelf that's at his eye level, keeping it out of the way of his cooking. “I just want to give the lemon butter sauce a chance to reduce a little more before I put it on. It cooks so quickly, you know.”
Despite his casual, confident words, I can see he's nervous as the wooden spoon he's using chatters on the edge of the pan. I come over and turn the fire off, moving the frying pan. “Dinner can wait. Let's talk.”
Cory nods, unable to meet my eyes he's so nervous. “Okay. So . . . you and Whitney talked.”
“We did. And she had some questions, and I had some too. First, one of mine. Why'd you go off on Bill Moss?”
Cory takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes. “Because years ago, when I was just a high school kid, I was crushing on you. And you were right then to send me away. I needed to grow up a little. But I think I knew even then that I’d never find another. And I could tell then too that you wanted Whitney back. It was men like Moss who fed your fears and sent her away, and nearly sent me away. I only held on because I'm a damn fool who's stubborn and won't give up on something worthwhile once I see it. But I'm glad I did. Still, since then, even when we visited before he pulled that crap on you, I didn't feel a hundred percent about it. So I did it for me, and yes, for you. And Trevor Bana should be glad that I haven't run into him in town yet.”
“Oh? You going to kick his ass?” I ask seriously. Cory thinks about it, and I can tell he wants to, but instead, he shakes his head.
“You wouldn't want me to be violent, as much as it's tempting. But . . . I don't know if I can ever forgive him for what he did to you.”
I nod, then wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him. “Thank you. For your honesty, for your desire to protect me, but also for respecting me and for loving me like you do.”
“Forever,” Cory promises. “I'm always going to love you.”
“Then next question,” I say, looking up into his handsome face. “Whitney demands that she gives me away at the altar, so we would have to wait until the off-season in order to get married. Can you wait that long?”
“I'll wait as long as you want,” he answers, smiling. “So did she give her blessing?”
I smile and reach up, taking the box with the ring off the shelf and tapping his chest with it. “Hold your horses, mister. My question now. Whitney and I, we've been a team since the moment she was born. Can you accept that and that she's always going to be vital to me?”
Cory laughs and nods. “Of course. You have no idea just how similar you two are. The first time I saw you, and I've been reminded many times since then, I felt that you two are more sisters than mother and daughter.”
“Flattery . . . such flattery,” I tease, then step back. “Then on your knee again, Cory Dunham.”
Cory gets down, taking my hand and smiling. When I don't say anything, he arches an eyebrow, then realizes what's missing. He takes the box from my other hand and opens it again, holding it up for my inspection. “Patricia Nelson, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”
I nod, leaning down and kissing him tenderly on the lips. “Yes, Cory Dunham. I'll happily marry you.”
Epilogue
Cory
The backyard of Troy's house is crowded, with nine children and ten adults in the grassy area. Laurie's nearly ten now, so she's on the cusp of her tween years, and because of that, she looks a bit uncomfortable with all the little ones around her, but she's trying her best to not create too many problems. After all, she doesn't get a lot of time to hang out with her extended family. With Tyler and April up in Toronto, never mind Dani, Pete, Patricia and me in Silver Lake Falls, she's trying her best to hang out.
“Did you ever think that we'd be able to fit nineteen people in this house?” Troy asks me as he and I man the grill. The charcoal's going well, and we can start the steaks in about five minutes after we get the hot dogs on for the little ones.
“It helped when you bought the neighbor's house. So when are you planning on putting up the fence again? You know, for renters and such.”
Troy looks over at the still freshly turned dirt where fenceposts used to be, and he shrugs. “Who knows? It's not like we can't afford to have an empty rental property for a couple of years. It'll be nice, too, when Duncan, Carrie, Cammy and Mark come up to visit.”
I shake my head. It's hard to keep up with the number of kids. “Three for you, two for him, two for Tyler and April, Dani's got little Catrice and is pregnant again, and I've got Ryan. We keep it up, and we're going to have a whole basketball team in boys and girls before too long.”
“Nah, three's enough for Whit and me,” Troy says, grabbing the hot dogs. “It’s not like we can’t afford it. And I love ‘em to death, but three is already a handful as it is.”
“I hear ya,” I say, watching as Troy puts the hotdogs down on the grill, each one sizzling as the natural casings hit the heat. Our kids might eat hotdogs. I can't stop that, but I can control how good the damn hotdogs are. “But no talk of money today, man. You know what I've come to realize money is?”
“What?” Troy asks with a smirk, putting down more of the hot dogs. I'm glad we've got a big grill. Nine children can eat a lot, even if most of them are still preschoolers. I bought twenty, just in case Duncan wants a few. He normally eats clean, or else Carrie works it out of him. She's really become almost infamous within the League community for the workouts she can put together, but he does like processed dogs every once in a while. “Not the root of all evil?”
I laugh and take the first of the plates of steaks and check the seasonings. “No. It's a tool, nothing more or nothing less. It's a way for us to be able to do the things we want in life and to make sure that our children and maybe our grandchildren can do the same thing. So when I'm picking out investments for us, I think, 'this apartment building is going to pay for Gavin's college,' or 'this stock is going to let Whit take that trip to Australia that she's been talking about.' And I want it to be that way for every generation of our family that comes after, too.”
Troy nods as he starts to turn the hot dogs. “You ever get worried that we're going to be rich enough that we're going to have some Hilton or Kardashian kids?”
I shake my head, laughing. “No way in hell. Laurie's the oldest, and she's doing well. Look at her playing with Ryan.”
Troy looks, where Laurie is patiently playing with her 'uncle' Ryan while Cammy and Petey Barkovich play on the nearby slides. “She's a good kid.”
“Because of her father and mother,” I remind him. “Still, I feel bad for you in two or three years. She's as beautiful as her mother and grandmother.”
“Tell me about it.” Troy chuckles. “Steak.”
I hand Troy the first steak, and he slaps it on the grill. “So are you ready for football camp tomorrow? It's going to be Coach Jackson's last year, I heard.”
Troy nods, a bit sadly. “Yeah, it'll be hard thinking of Silver Lake High without Steve Jackson as head coach. Still, he'll be sticking around as AD, did you hear?”
“He'll do well,” I agree. “They named a new coach yet?”
Troy shakes his head, then smiles. “Maybe they'll have a slot for me in ab
out five or six years.”
“You getting old that quick?” I tease him. “I mean, I know you finished your degree, but I thought you still had at least one more contract in that old body.”
Troy laughs and puts another steak on the grill. “Old, huh? I've got one more in me. I think that'll be it, though. Ten years, and I'll still be able to enjoy the last few years of Laurie's high school time. I’ll find something to take up my time. Maybe I'll take up BJJ like Pete, or who knows, you and I can bike around the lake once a week. I know Whit would love to spend all the time back here, even though her art dealing is going so well. It's a game for her now more than anything.”
“Patricia and I would like that too, man. Not to mention, our boys could make quite a pair terrorizing Silver Lake High.”
“Yo, guys, I've got the duck confit potatoes ready!” Tyler calls, carrying out a platter from inside. “And poutine!”
Troy groans, laughing. “Duncan, I thought he was from Cali like you!”
Duncan, who's been chatting with Pete, probably about BJJ since Pete just got his purple belt, shrugs. “Blame April!”
April, who's been talking with Patricia, shakes her head, laughing. “You guys just don't know good food! I'll trust the guy who takes classes under Michelin starred chefs over you two!”
“We can't top that one,” I note, and Troy chuckles.
“No, we can't.”
“So you enjoyed yourself?”
Patricia smiles and snuggles into my arms. It's warming in the evenings, but the view from Slater's Point is one of her favorites. “I did. For three days a year, our whole clan's together. It's nice.”
“I agree. Even nicer that Whitney agreed to let Ryan stay overnight with them. I think he and Tyler are having a slumber party or something.”
“Two Tylers,” Patricia says with a small chuckle. “And two Petes, although Petey has a good reason. We've gotta make sure everyone's got a list to remember all these names. Dani's not allowed to copy any names when her daughter comes.”
“Actually, she told me she and Pete have already picked out a name. They told me during clean-up.”
“Really?” Patricia asks, turning her beautiful brown eyes to look up at me. In the fading sunlight, she's still so beautiful, my throat catches. Years of marriage haven't faded that feeling at all. “What did they decide?”
“You're going to have to get used to another copy,” I say. “Because in a month or two, Patricia Whitney Barkovich is going to greet the world.”
Patricia’s moved, I can tell, and I take her hands, pulling her to her feet. “A little dance?”
She nods, and I go over to our car, turning on the sound system. The familiar strings and bass start, and I pull her close, our feet moving on the dirt as our song plays. As Vanessa Williams's voice fades at the end, I smile and kiss her, holding her close. “I love you, Patricia.”
“I love you too, Cory,” she says, squeezing tight.
“You know,” she says, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to get frisky in a public park after dark.”
The idea stirs deep within me, and I lean in, kissing my beautiful wife while cupping her ass and squeezing. “Feeling adventurous?”
“With you, every day is a life-changing adventure,” Patricia replies, cupping my own backside and purring. “I'll never grow tired of it.”
Neither will I.
Join my mailing list and receive 2 FREE ebooks! You’ll also be the first to know if new releases, sales, and giveaways.
Blitzed: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
By Lauren Landish
“I brought Laurie back to meet her father. I brought her back to meet you.”
I’m normally not into jocks, but when Troy Wood asks me out, I feel like I’m the Chosen One. After all, he’s hot as hell and Silver Lake’s best athlete, practically the King of Campus.
God’s gift to women—that’s what they call him, but I’ll make a gentleman out of him.
Everything is perfect, and he already practically has his ticket to the Big Leagues.
There’s just one little problem . . . I’m hiding a secret that could destroy him and his future. I can’t tell him . . . I can’t tell him that I’m pregnant with his baby.
**Blitzed is a full-length romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger!
Part I
High School Seniors
Chapter 1
Whitney
Thank God the bad part of summer is over, I think to myself, adjusting my newly bought burgundy skirt around my hips as I step out of my 2005 Honda Civic— which had long ago worn out its welcome, along with its air conditioner. It gets me around town, though, so that works. The heat is so unbearable.
The summer had been blistering, the hottest on record, with days that reached temperatures of 105 degrees, and I spent most of the summer simply fighting to stay cool. Now, I’m happy to finally get some relief as summer lets go of its stranglehold on the Pacific Northwest a bit. Right now, it’s seventy degrees, and the cooler air feels great on my skin.
My limbs tremble slightly while I stand in front of my car door. My heart starts to race. It's my first day back at school, so I'm more than a little anxious, though I'm not sure why, since I've done this enough by now.
Get it together, girl, I tell myself. This is your last year here. You won't have to see most of these people ever again after you graduate. And the one or two you want to see, you’ll stay in touch with. You know that.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I check my appearance in the side view mirror before moving on. My hair and makeup look all right—light foundation, blush and a hint of eye shadow, and my locks are long and wavy, the way that I think it looks best. When I'm satisfied, I gather my books, shut the door of my Honda, lock it, and then make my way through the parking lot and onto the Silver Lake High campus.
A feeling of nostalgia rolls through me as I set foot on the grounds and I’m greeted by the familiar layout. It looks just like I remember, with beautiful paved walkways, meticulously groomed lawns, and exquisitely built structures. Deep red brick and glass lend a weight to the buildings, while the high-reaching steel and glass make it not too stuffy.
It's probably one of the best maintained High Schools in the state, I think, but too bad it's filled with a bunch of douches.
Despite my fondness for my high school, I’m glad it’s my last year. My four years of tenure have been filled with nothing but drama, and hopefully, I'll be moving on to bigger and better things once I sail off to college.
I will miss Silver Lake Falls, though. Silver Lake is a small, bustling town in the northwestern part of the country that has a booming economy, mainly due to the abundance of growth in its IT sector. Once a rich bedroom community, it is now becoming a place of economic power. In fewer than three years, the town's population had grown from ten thousand to well over twenty thousand before stabilizing and slowing down before growth exploded too much to take away the small town charm.
It’s an amazing town.
I like to think that after I graduate with a good degree, I'll come back home to Silver Lake Falls and live out my life here well into old age. After all, I love it here. Nothing can beat a small town community where everyone knows each other and everyone comes together, even if there is the small town gossip and pettiness to deal with. But I won't settle down until I see what the world has to offer. I’ve never been anywhere else, and I need at least a taste of the real world before deciding what I want.
I'm a bit early, as usual, and I see the other early birds milling about, some gathered around their favorite hangout spots, talking and goofing around. I see mostly familiar faces and a few new ones, but I'm surprised to see how much people are staring at me. Mainly guys. Hot guys. The type of guys that would never look at me twice.
Is there something wrong with my outfit? I wonder, pausing to look down at my skirt. I'd chosen the outfit before I left home because, one, it was new, and two, I thought I looked goo
d in it. Not too slutty, but not too chaste. It makes my legs look long by riding the line on SLHS's dress code on skirt length, and the flare makes my waist look smaller than it is. I also have on a white blouse with a few pearl highlights, but it's nothing to get excited about.
After a moment, I continue on. I can't find anything wrong with my outfit, and I have no idea why I’m all of a sudden getting so much heat, but I swear one guy's head almost turns like the exorcist to keep his eyes on me as I walk by. If he'd snapped around any harder, I think he would have broken his neck. Actually, I remember him, and I think the world might be a better place if he does break his neck.
I ignore him and continue on my way through campus. I've almost made it to the building that contains my locker when I cross by The Fountain, a beautiful construction made of marble with an exquisitely crafted owl at the top that is surrounded by two of the main academic buildings and the cafeteria, completing a quad. The Fountain is Silver Lake High's most popular hangout spot and a place I often like to avoid because of the annoyance factor. I don't know why I'd walked right into it, but I suppose I hadn't been looking.
Not surprisingly, a group of jocks are crowded around The Fountain, laughing and telling stupid jokes. They're practically a pack of wolves, and more than once, I've compared them to what Mr. Cashion showed us in tenth grade science when he'd pulled out National Geographic videos. I try to sneak past them with my head down, hoping no one will notice me. Fat chance. All they have the mental capacity to do is crack jokes and notice people.
“God damn, Whitney!” A popular athlete named Cory Dunham exclaims as I walk by. Cory is one of the more competent ballers on the school's football team and is also one of the biggest manwhores on the planet. If you have a pulse and a vagina, he would come sniffing around at some point, I'm sure. “What have you been eating? You got thick as hell!”
Fourth Down Baby: A May-December Romance Page 19
