Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1)

by Penelope Silva

  Again, he bit his lip. Something was up.

  “Where did you take her this morning? Where was her interview?” I could feel myself getting angry. “Did she really have an interview or was there something else going on?”

  Frank looked at me in the mirror. “She did speak to someone about a job, yes. I think maybe she’s tired. Women get like that when they’re expecting.”

  “Don’t do it, Frank. Don’t start lying to me now,” I warned him.

  He took his cap off and smoothed his hand over the thick patch of hair that comprised the middle section of his head. “I’m not, sir. I think maybe this is a conversation you should be having with her. All I know is, whatever interview she had made her a little tense. Like I said, it’s probably the pregnancy, the strain of everything going on with you or hormones. I wouldn’t worry too much, if I were you.”

  I trusted Frank. I truly did, but somehow I didn’t believe him. Things didn’t add up for me. I’d told Isla not to worry about a job right now, especially with the baby on the way.

  “Who did she interview with? Where did you take her this morning?” I asked, believing those questions were benign enough, but Frank’s jaw dropped when I posed those questions to him again.

  I watched his Adam’s apple move up and down in his throat. He had difficulty swallowing whatever was there. Fear? Guilt? A mixture of the two? What wasn’t he telling me and why?”

  “We’re here, sir. Would you like me to wait?” Frank asked, averting his eyes from mine.

  I looked up at the multi-million-dollar mansion, equipped with a lap pool and a tennis court. We were living large in our world, yet one tiny, curvaceous woman was real close to making me do something that would take it all away from me in an instant. What was she up to?

  “You can go back to the house. Keep an eye on Isla for me. She said she wasn’t feeling well,” I informed Frank, figuring it was time to let him off the hook. It was obvious, he didn’t want to tell me anything more about Isla. I didn’t like how he was so secretive about it, but I trusted him enough to know he would never agree to do anything to piss me off. That’s not the kind of man he was. He, above every other person I ever met in my life, could be counted on. Whatever it was Isla was up to would come out eventually. In my experience, most women had a hard time keeping secrets. Even the ones who were doing something evil would be chomping at the bit to tell you all about it. They all wanted to get one over on someone.

  “Will do. What time would you like me to pick you up?” Frank asked, reminding me, I was expected to come home. That wasn’t my usual modus operandi. Nights out with the guys usually led to late mornings with the female flavor of the night and her friend or two.

  Figuring Isla would ask him what I said, I answered, “I’ll let you know. I have to check out the scenery first.”

  “Have a good night,” Frank said as he stepped out to open the door for me. He made a point of not making eye contact with me. I didn’t know if that was because he was still feeling uneasy about my questions or because he was nervous about the questions he’d have to answer once he got back to my house.

  I hobbled to the front door, anxious to do something that felt normal for a change. I was feeling pretty confident; I wasn’t going to mess anything up tonight. Isla was a strong, independent woman - my curvy Nubian queen. She wasn’t one of those who didn’t know what to do with herself without a man. She was fine on her own, but still appreciated when I was around. It was a different feeling for me - a different kind of relationship, so me being out and acting like the dude I was, shouldn’t be a big deal with her. Surely, she’d understand why I had to be here.

  “Hey, Beck! What’s up, man?” Jared’s voice boomed out of the foyer.

  What the fuck is he doing here?

  I wanted to turn around and hobble my ass right on out of there. Hell, I was willing to drag myself across town if I had to. I hadn’t seen Jared since the night he tried to run me over.

  Jared stood in the doorway, smiling at me like nothing had happened between us, like he forgot he’d gotten arrested for setting me up and for hitting me with his car.

  “He’s leaving,” my teammate, Will, said. “Let Beck through so he can get off that leg.”

  I appreciated the gesture, but no way was I going to walk away. I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. I was the victim.

  Will tried again. “Yeah, Jared is leaving. He stopped by to let the guys know he was out.”

  I didn’t care.

  Jared shifted uncomfortably, but that didn’t prevent him from speaking to me again. “Nice to see you up and around. Did the doctors say how long it would be before you were back out on the field?”

  He had some fucking balls!

  Will interjected. “Here, let me walk you out,” he said to Jared.

  I locked my free foot in place, keeping my eyes focused on Jared as he squeezed past me.

  “Glad you’re doing okay,” Jared muttered under his breath.

  Asshole!

  My other teammates tried to cut the tension. They did their best at starting a conversation with me, but I wasn’t in the mood. All of my attention was on the dude who tried to ruin my career. Screw trying to have a chat!

  “I need a drink!” If I could have stormed off and poured myself a fat glass of something strong, I would have, but with my leg in a cast and bandages on my abdomen, the chance of me storming, strolling, skipping or anything else were null and void. Instead, I hopped on one foot and nearly toppled over head first before I made it from the front door to the living room.

  “What the hell are you trying to do, Beck?” Will asked, grabbing my elbow to steady me. “We’ll get you something. I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but should you be drinking right now? Don’t they have you hopped up on painkillers?”

  He was right. I shouldn’t have been drinking. I shouldn’t have been doing anything, but sitting with my leg propped up on something and watching life pass by right in front of me.

  “We have something better for him,” another team member said, motioning toward the foyer. “Here they are right now.”

  In walked in about a half-dozen women, each sexier than the one before them. I didn’t know who they were or where they came from, but they sure did make me forget all about seeing Jared. I almost forgot about the pain I felt. Almost, but when I tried to stand up to welcome them with my charm, the pain reminded me I wasn’t going to see much action tonight or any night in my immediate future. I was fucked and not in a good way. Well, not in a good way yet, because a light-skinned beauty was staring at me with sex in her eyes and thick, luscious lips begging to wrap themselves around my thick, long dick.

  Yeah, the night was looking a lot better from my vantage point. A lot better.

  “You’re Beck Alexander,” she said, licking her lips as her eyes skimmed down my body.

  “And, you are?” I asked, assessing her tight, little body. She was hot! Why hadn’t I ever seen her around before?

  “I’m Candy.” Her eyes were focused on the bulge in my pants. She wasn’t shy; that’s for sure. “Looks like you’re healing quickly from your injuries.”

  And, that’s what did it! The way the words rolled off her tongue; it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was referring to. She saw my arousal and knew what to do to ensure it would stay.

  “Why don’t you join me?” I asked. It came out of my mouth so quickly, I couldn’t take the words back. It was like second nature to invite a beautiful woman to sit on my lap.

  I panicked as she sauntered over to me. “Sorry, I mean, why don’t you sit down with the guys? They’re getting ready to turn the game on. I take it, you’re a football fan.”

  She stopped, short of making contact with my good leg. “Are you trying to push me away?”

  I thought of Isla, sitting at home worrying about me. I didn’t want to do this. “No, don’t look at it that way. I’m… maybe, you haven’t heard, but I got a kid on the way. I have a fiancée at hom
e.”

  She snickered. “Oh, so you’re special? I’m sure you’re the only guy here who has a woman at home, right?” Now, her words were filled with sarcasm. She didn’t like to be turned down. I couldn’t blame her. With a body like that, I couldn’t imagine very many men or women refused her.

  “No, I’m not special. I’m spoken for, I guess.” It felt so strange to hear myself say those words. When did I become an up and up guy? Was I hit in the head one too many times?

  Candy didn’t attempt to walk away. I think she thought I was joking with her.

  “Sorry,” I offered. “I have to call and check on my baby.”

  Damn, why did I sound like one of those guys who had to check in with his wife? I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and scrolled through the photos, searching for a photo of Isla to help me get my mind off this horny, little woman. My palms began to sweat. My heart raced.

  “Are you afraid of me? Do black women intimidate you?” Candy was goading me, trying to snare me.

  I scoffed at her words. “I’m not afraid of anyone. I’m saying now isn’t a good time. If I had met you a few months back, believe me, we’d be hot and heavy - all day, every day - but now isn’t our time. Life has moved on for me. I’m not that guy anymore.”

  She laughed a hearty laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re Beck Alexander. You love women!”

  “That’s why you and I wouldn’t be a good idea,” I tried, hoping she’d find someone else who needed the ride of his life, but I wasn’t that guy. Not tonight anyway.

  I must have gotten my message across because, after a moment, Candy walked away and found a nice, comfortable seat on one of my teammate’s laps. It was like she forgot all about me. I didn’t know if I should have been relieved or disappointed. I nodded in my teammate’s direction to indicate all was good with me, but couldn’t look at Candy again. She would forever go down in history as the first woman I’d rejected because of another woman.

  “Hello?” Isla sounded like she was out of breath.

  “How are you doing?” I asked. “You don’t sound good.”

  Isla breathed into the phone. “I don’t feel well. I think I ate something bad.”

  I could tell by the tone of her voice there was more to it than that. She sounded like she was in pain. “Are you sure? Where are you hurting?”

  She didn’t answer.

  I listened to her struggle for breath.

  “Isla?” Something was wrong. “Where’s Frank?”

  Between deep breaths, she answered, her voice barely audible, “He’s outside.”

  “I’m calling 9-1-1. Don’t move until they get there. I’ll meet you at the hospital.” I hung up and dialed 9-1-1. All my senses were heightened. Isla wasn’t well. I could feel it in my bones.

  “What’s up, Beck?” Will asked from across the room. “Is it Isla?”

  I couldn’t think straight. “I need a ride. Something is wrong. I have to get to Isla.”

  Will jumped up, spiking Candy off his lap. “I’ll drive you. Let’s go.”

  We sped through town, racing toward the hospital. Everything was happening so quickly, I didn’t have time to protest Candy’s insistence to tag along. All I wanted was to get to Isla and make sure she and the baby were okay.

  By the time we pulled up outside the emergency room entrance, I was frantic. I jumped out of the car, forgetting I was still injured and in a lot of pain.

  “Beck!” Candy called out to me as I toppled to the floor.

  I pushed myself up off the ground and dragged myself to the entrance. “Where is she?” I scanned the patients in the waiting room. She wasn’t there.

  I turned to look at the triage nurse. “I’m looking for my wife, Isla Johnson. She’s pregnant. Where is she?” It didn’t even occur to me that I’d referred to Isla as my wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Two – Beck

  “Don’tever do that to me again,” I said, caressing her face as tears streamed down my face. She looked so helpless lying there.

  Smiling slightly, she replied, “I have to keep you on your toes.”

  I wanted to pick her up and take her far away from everything. Seeing her like this, tore at my heartstrings. Less than an hour ago, I was fighting the urge to revert back to my old ways and bang some skanky broad because I could. Now, I’m sitting in a small, cold room in the hospital bawling like a baby for a woman I’d only known a short time, but felt like I’d spent my lifetime loving. How did I get here?

  The doctor returned to the room, paperwork in hand. “Miss Johnson, how are you feeling now? Is the pain gone?”

  Isla shifted, still clutching her belly. “It’s not as bad as it was. It’s tender.”

  He wrinkled up his nose, assessing her. “Well, your blood work is back. There are a few concerns, but nothing we can’t treat. You’re anemic. There is an indication you may be suffering from gestational diabetes and--”

  “Diabetes? I have diabetes? How could that be? I eat right. I exercise. I--” Isla started.

  The doctor stepped closer to show her the test results. “You see, here is where your levels are. This is the range we’d like to see them in.”

  Flashbacks of my life as a child flooded my mind. Both my mother and grandmother were diabetics. I remembered what is was like for them. We always had to monitor their health. A simple cut could wreak havoc on their bodies.

  “What does that mean? Is she going to be okay? What about the baby?” I asked.

  He explained this sometimes happened with pregnant women. Her doctor would monitor her and the baby a little closer.

  “Also, your blood pressure is a little elevated. I’d like to check it again, if I could?” The doctor grabbed the apparatus off the wall.

  I scooted my chair back to give him some room. He hadn’t asked me to, but I got the feeling, he didn’t feel like he had to ask me to move out of his way. Every question I asked him was met with hesitation, like he didn’t think I deserved a response, like I didn’t matter. I wanted to confront him about that, but with Isla still not feeling well, I didn’t want to add any more stress to her, so I kept my comments to myself.

  “Have you ever been diagnosed with high blood pressure? Has your doctor ever mentioned that to you?” The doctor asked Isla.

  Isla shook her head. “No, never. What does all this mean? Is my baby in danger?” Isla started to hyperventilate.

  The doctor bent over her, telling her to calm down, breathe deeply, and close her eyes.

  It was surreal. I couldn’t believe this was happening. In all the time I’d known her, I’d never known her to have panic attacks or get out of control. Seeing her like this, scared the hell out of me.

  “What is going on? Isla, I’m right here,” I said, forcing myself to a standing position so she could see me.

  The doctor spoke over us. “Someone get in here!”

  A couple of nurses rushed into the room. One grabbed an oxygen mask attached by a bracket on the wall behind the bed and placed it on Isla’s face.

  “What is wrong with her? What’s happening?” I asked again, but no one responded. They were focused on calming Isla down and making sure her blood pressure didn’t skyrocket.

  It took several minutes before she relaxed. I had no idea what I’d witnessed. All I wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe.

  “Stressing yourself out isn’t going to help you,” a nurse scolded Isla.

  “That’s not her fault. Something is wrong with her. Isn’t it your fucking job to fix it or help her deal with it?” I knew taking my anxiety out on the nurse wasn’t the best idea, but who was she to talk to Isla that way?

  “Sir, you need to calm down or we’re going to have to ask you to sit outside in the waiting room,” the nurse challenged me.

  I scoffed at her threat. “I’m not leaving. You can kiss my ass, lady,” I murmured under my breath.

  Less than ten seconds later, three hefty middle-aged security guards were huffing and puffing in front of me, tell
ing me I had to leave the hospital grounds.

  “I’m not going any damn where!” I yelled as the three of them attempted to man handle me and show me a not-so-friendly way out of the building.

  Isla was upset all over again. Her face was beet red and, according to the monitors, her blood pressure was on the rise.

  “Get him out of here,” the doctor said. “Your boyfriend is not helping matters, Miss Johnson. He’s not going to be allowed on the premises again.”

  “Do you know who he is? He’s Beck Alexander and he’s not my boyfriend; he’s my fiancé. He’s upset. He’s worried about me and the baby. Please don’t make him leave,” Isla begged them, but that didn’t change their opinion of me. Sore leg and all, they carried me out into the waiting area and out the exit doors.

  “This is bullshit!” I screamed, my fists balling up.

  I didn’t want to go to jail. Isla needed me, but who were these people? Had they been living under a rock? Did they not know who I was? I could practically buy this whole damn hospital if I wanted to.

  The only person I could think to call was my attorney.

  “How are you holding up?” My attorney asked.

  “Not good. I need you to come down to the hospital now. Isla is in the emergency room. They kicked me out. It’s a long story, but I need you to call one of your judge friends. We need someone to marry us,” I said.

  “What? Why? Now? I mean, is she okay? Is the baby okay?” He asked.

  I didn’t have time to explain. I wanted him to do as I said and get there as quickly as possible. “Get down here!” I raised my voice at him. “Do whatever you have to do to make sure it’s all legitimate. Hurry!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Isla

  “I promise, he won’t cause any problems,” I assured the hospital security officers. “Look, he just had surgery and is in a lot of pain. He’s on pain medications. You can look it up. I’m sure you have that information in the hospital records. Please, I don’t want to beg you, but I’m begging you.”