The Girl with my Heart (Summer Unplugged #8)

by Amy Sparling

  “And what job is that?” I ask, bringing my lips down to her ear. I slide my hands around her waist, dipping my fingers under the hem of her pajama shorts. “Is it this job?” I whisper, my lips against her ear. She shudders and gives me a little nod and I move down to her neck, placing soft kisses on her goosebumped flesh.

  “Hey,” Bayleigh says, tugging at my shirt as I kiss her neck.

  “Yes, my love?” I whisper, moving to her collar bone.

  “I’m serious,” she says, holding back a giggle. I pull away and look at her expectantly. Her eyes glance down and she swallows. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

  I smile. “Neither do I.”

  “Good,” she says. She takes my hand and pulls me over to the bed. She sits on the edge of the mattress and smiles up at me. “I’m ready to make up.”

  I lift an eyebrow and pull off my shirt. “Yes ma’am.”

  Chapter 17

  I wake up in bed the next morning feeling like a million bucks and I don’t even care how stupid that sounds. I feel completely invincible. My girl is asleep on my arm, her hair all frazzled and messy from our night of love-making, her face serene and blissful while she sleeps.

  Early morning sun filters in through our sheer curtains, waking me up just moments before my alarm goes off. I carefully reach across the bed with the arm that’s not under her and grab my phone to turn off the alarm. No point in risking waking her up when everything is so perfect. It’s nearly seven in the morning and Jett has slept through the night, probably worn out from crying so much last night. Hopefully he’ll be happy today now that mom and dad are happy again.

  As I look at my phone’s home screen, I get an idea. Natalie can’t mess with my phone if she can’t get into it. I open the settings and set up a password lock on the home screen. Now I just need a password I won’t forget. I’m not even sure what my debit card’s PIN number is half the time. Bayleigh always remembers it for me.

  I stare at the numbers on the screen, trying to think of something that I won’t forget in two seconds. Then it comes to me—the perfect number. One I could never forget. I type in 0809 and save it.

  August ninth, the best day of my life.

  My wedding to Bayleigh.

  Smiling to myself, I set the phone back down and carefully extract my other arm out from under Bayleigh’s head. She moves a little but stays asleep. It’s Saturday, and a rare day off work for me. My usual Saturday morning client broke his leg at a night race last week and won’t be in for a few months. Now that things are better at home, I’m going to make sure Bayleigh stays happy.

  I slide out of bed and throw on some clothes in the dark of the closet, not wanting to turn on the light and wake her up. Here’s to hoping the t-shirt and shorts I picked out randomly from my side of the closet ends up matching.

  I tiptoe down the hallway and peek into Jett’s room. He’s out cold still, his precious little chubby face just as blissful as Bayleigh’s. When Jett was first born, I couldn’t wait to hold him and play with him every second of every day. I had complained a few days in a row because when I got home from work, he was already asleep. My mom had warned me to take the time to enjoy these little baby-free moments. She’d said that one day I’d be begging for the kid to nap so I can have some alone time.

  So although I’m really tempted to wake him up and play a game of peek-a-boo or my favorite game, making motorcycle noises with the stuffed dirt bike toy in his crib, I sigh and let him sleep.

  I don’t know how men are supposed to do it—go to work all day every day and never get to see their kids. As soon as Park and I get this business up and running I’m going to make sure the main office building has a playroom and nursery type area for our kids. So far I’m the only one with the kid, but with the way Park feels about Becca, that could all change soon.

  And how awesome would it be to have my little man at the track with me every day?

  I smile as I head into the kitchen and I can practically hear my wife’s annoyed voice right now. She’d say, Jace Adams don’t you even think about putting my precious baby on a dirt bike!

  And I’d tell her that she fell in love with me when I was on a dirt bike so why can’t our son ride?

  And then she’d lift one eyebrow and put her hands on her hips and give me her serious face and say, Because I don’t care if you hurt yourself but Jett’s my baby and he’s not allowed to get hurt.

  I snort to myself, remembering all the times we’ve had that exact same conversation. I know she’s just playing around. We’re a motocross family and maybe one day our son will go on to have the life of fame that I could have had. That I almost had before I blew it.

  But I can’t think like that. Yeah, I was pro for about a year before my temper got me kicked out. And yeah, I was and still am sort of famous in the motocross world, but I can’t spend my time wishing for what could have been if I’d never screwed up. Because if I’d played it straight and gone on to become the world’s fastest and greatest professional motocross racer, then I would have never had the time to travel down to Salt Gap, Texas and go through my granddad’s old house. I wouldn’t have needed the summer to cool down and be alone and get my temper under control.

  And all of that means I’d never have met Bayleigh.

  A life of fame and riches can’t even compete to a life without that girl and my son.

  I’m not proud of what I did back then and how easily I let my temper get the best of me, but all of those mistakes led me down the road that took me to my soul mate. And for that, I’m grateful, in this screwed up way, for my past mistakes. I’m a better man now because of it. I still have money and I still have respect and I’m still a badass rider in the sport I love.

  Chills prickle across my skin as I think about the potential to open this business with Park. We can be business owners and partners for the rest of our lives, making a career in the sport with both love. We can train kids to become the future motocross stars of the world and they’ll be crediting us for making them the best they can be. And I can have all of this with my wife and son at my side. Things are turning out to be pretty fucking awesome.

  I pull open the fridge door and peer inside, taking out the eggs and cheese and bacon. It’s rare that Bayleigh and Jett aren’t awake yet, so if I hurry I might be able to surprise her with breakfast.

  A little while later, the toaster pops up and I hear a gasp of surprise. I grab the toast and toss them on a plate, turn around and see Bayleigh standing there in the kitchen. She’s wearing my t-shirt over panties, her hair tied in a messy bun and the cutest look of surprise on her face.

  Nailed it.

  “Hungry?” I ask, handing her the plate with toast on it. I take the pan of scrambled eggs mixed with cheddar cheese and spoon some onto her plate. “How much bacon do you want?”

  “This is really nice of you,” she says, grabbing bacon and setting it on top of the toast. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

  “Sure I did, it’s my day off.” I pour her a glass of orange juice and coffee since she likes to drink both of them with breakfast and join her at the kitchen table. “It’s like the one day a week where I can help out around here.”

  I mean what I say but suddenly I feel a little shitty because I haven’t exactly been pulling my weight around here lately. I can’t even remember the last time I did a load of laundry. And she’s not stupid—she probably knows I’m trying extra hard to be an amazing husband after the night we had last night.

  Because even though she says she believes that I had nothing to do with Natalie, there’s still the fact that another woman’s naked photos were on my phone. And drama like that doesn’t go away overnight. So yeah, I’m trying extra hard so she doesn’t hate me, but whatever. It’s literally the least I can do to keep her happy and let her know that I’m here for the long haul.

  She smiles and stabs her fork into her food. “I usually just eat cereal. This is really nice of you, babe.”

  Before we�
��ve even taken a bite of food, the baby starts crying from his bedroom. Bay groans and drops her fork. I slide my chair back and hold out my hand to her. “I got it.”

  “Yeah, that’s not a good idea,” she says, standing up at the same time I do.

  “Hey now, I can handle this.” I try to make a serious Dad Face.

  She laughs. Actually laughs. “Um, no you can’t.”

  “Yes, sit down babe. I’ll take care of him, I promise.”

  She snorts and folds her arms over her chest, the coy smirk on her face telling me that she knows something I don’t know. “You really think you can take care of him right now?”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not a total idiot! I can take care of a crying baby. You should have more faith in me.”

  She walks over to my side of the table and Jett starts crying even louder. “Honey,” she says slowly, grabbing my face with her hands. “I love you so much but I think you’re forgetting one very important thing.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  She pokes me in the chest. “Your boobs don’t have milk in them. And that’s what Jett wants at this hour of the morning.”

  I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks. “Oh my god,” I mutter, feeling like a complete and total idiot. “Right. Um. Okay.” I run my hand across my forehead. “Yeah maybe you should go.”

  She laughs and rises to her toes, slapping a quick kiss on my cheek. “That’s what I told you five minutes ago.”

  Chapter 18

  After breakfast, Bayleigh and I play with Jett on a blanket in the middle of the living room floor. I’m the best at making him laugh with my goofy faces and silly noises, but Bayleigh wins him over every other time. He reaches up for her and watches her when she walks around the apartment, his little blue eyes following her wherever she goes.

  Everything about these last few hours has been completely perfect. The three of us, a new family, playing and laughing. Watching our son grow and learn and push up on his little hands to get a better view of the world. I’m a little jealous that Bay gets to do this all day every day and I’m only free a few hours here and there between work. I am definitely going to set up a baby room at the new track.

  Speaking of…

  “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute about something work related?” I ask as I wag a soft rattle in front of Jett’s face. Bayleigh is in the kitchen getting us sodas and she hands me one and then sits next to me on the floor.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  Rather than think of an insightful and intelligent way to ask if it’s cool that I spend a ton of our money on a business venture, I just start blurting out words. “So Park and I have been talking a lot about our careers and stuff and—”

  My phone rings loudly from the coffee table. Bay is closer to it than I am and she looks over, her eyebrows drawing together. “It’s Mr. Fisher.”

  “Screw that, it’s my day off,” I say, waving a hand dismissively. Jett grabs the rattle and puts it in his mouth. “So anyway,” I start again, only to have my phone begin ringing immediately after the first call went to voicemail.

  “Maybe you should answer that…” she says. She hands me the phone.

  I sigh and answer the call. “Hello?”

  “Everything okay?” Mr. Fisher’s voice sounds strung out and a little annoyed.

  “Uh yeah,” I say, playing with Jett’s rattle as I talk. “Why?”

  “Then why the hell aren’t you at work?”

  Panic hits me cold and hard. “What?”

  Mr. Fisher sighs into the phone. “I’ve got Ricky and Brett over here waiting over an hour for you to show up for their lesson. I damn near thought you had died or something.”

  “Shit.” I jump to my feet and rush toward my bedroom to get dressed. “I had no idea they had an appointment. This is supposed to be my off day.”

  “Son, you’ve got a good reputation here but you can’t start forgetting appointments like this.”

  “I know, trust me I know,” I say as I scramble into the closet and grab some clothes. Bay meets me at our bedroom door, holding Jett on her hip. A concerned expression appears on her face.

  “You okay?” she mouths.

  I nod and switch the phone to my other ear. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I say.

  “You better.” Mr. Fisher hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter under my breath and toss my phone to the bed.

  “What’s going on?” Bay asks. “And why are you getting dressed? I thought we were going to hang out today?”

  I shake my head. “Apparently I have an appointment with the Shearling kids today and I’m already an hour late.”

  “How’d that happen?” she asks.

  “I don’t know.” I grab my phone and rush toward the front door, sliding into the shoes I left in the foyer. “I swear this is my day off. Must have gotten something mixed up.”

  “Your schedule isn’t that hard to understand,” Bay says, handing me my truck keys. “How long will this take?”

  I sigh. The Shearling kids usually train back to back two hour sessions, but if I tell her that now it’ll ruin the rest of her day. “I don’t know,” I say. “Hopefully not too long.”

  “Okay well, I love you.” Bay frowns and I grab her around the waist and kiss her hard. I miss her and Jett already. This is such bullshit.

  As I head outside and climb in my truck, I mentally scan over everything that happened when I was last at work. I remember being happy that I had Saturday off and calling Bayleigh to plan a day together with her. I clearly and distinctly remember checking my schedule and seeing that it was empty.

  My heartbeat quickens as I think back to yesterday when I highlighted the entire day on the calendar in a blue highlighter and wrote the words Spend the day w/Bayleigh across the date.

  This isn’t my fault. I didn’t forget about a client. Someone scheduled the Shearling appointment without telling me and they set it for a day they knew I was planning to take off.

  My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. There’s only one person who has access to my schedule besides me. And now she’s fucking up my work life in addition to my home life.

  I draw in a deep breath and grit my teeth. I no longer care who her father is and what he’s done for our motocross park.

  She’s fucking fired.

  Chapter 19

  Ricky and Brett are fourteen year old twins who are kicking ass in the local motocross scene, thanks to training from yours truly. The kids sit on the tailgate of their dad’s truck, drinking Gatorade and looking bored as hell when I pull up beside them. I shut the engine and dive out of my truck, nearly forgetting to close the door behind me.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I say in a rush of slurred words as I jog up to Mr. Shearling, a stout and insanely rich lawyer from Houston.

  He’s giving me a shit look but he just huffs. “At least you got here.”

  “You kids ready?” I call out to the boys. To their dad I say, “Who’d you make your appointment with? I had my schedule cleared for today.”

  Mr. Shearling runs a hand through his balding brown hair and shrugs. “Some woman answered when I called your office. Said you’d be happy to see us today.”

  “She no longer works for me and she never actually did,” I say, knowing it’s not much of an excuse to a paying customer. “I’m really sorry about this delay.”

  “Just get their lap times down and I won’t worry about it,” he says with a hearty chuckle.

  I smile even though I’m seething about Natalie on the inside. “Will do, sir.”

  Two hours later when I’ve made damn sure that Ricky and Brett’s lap times are down fifteen seconds each, I head into my office in the main building. The lobby’s lights are off since Mixon Motocross Park is technically closed on Saturdays, save for special appointments. Mr. Fisher’s door is closed and I haven’t seen him all day, so I’m guessing he called me from home when Mr. She
arling called him to bitch about me not being there for an appointment.

  Either way, I’m glad to have the privacy when I slip into my office and flip on the light. The moment I enter the room I’m overcome with the scent—or should I stay stench—of Natalie’s whoreish perfume. It’s so damn strong I know without a doubt that she purposely sprayed it in here at some point between now and the last time I was at work.

  With a sigh, I slide open the window to let the room air out. It’s hot as hell outside but it’s worth it to sweat if the stench goes away. Hell, if anything maybe my sweat will make the room smell better. I freaking hate this bitch.

  I open my paper planner and flip to today’s date, noting how the entire day is in fact blocked off just like I had remembered. Nowhere does it mention the appointment Natalie made for today. Thanks to her meddling in my business and answering my office phone, I had to give Mr. Shearling a fifty percent discount for my lateness and my day with my family was ruined. Simply firing her on Monday doesn’t seem like a severe enough punishment.

  I spend a few minutes going through the rest of my paper planner, making sure all of the following pages are blank or either filled in with appointments in my own handwriting, stuff I actually remember writing myself. Then I get on my computer and open the digital scheduler that clients use online, requesting their preferred dates and I make sure everything is exactly in order. Looks like Natalie hasn’t messed with anything else, thank god.

  Just for good measure, I go through every document, music, video and photo folder on my computer to make sure that nothing unwanted has been added again. And then I set a new desktop password on the screen so that only I can get on my computer from now on.