Still, I typed down my information and handed him back his phone as Michael asked, “Can we stay at the game, Mom?”
Jeremy’s lips thinned.
I wish I knew what he thought, but I asked with my head down, “How long do games last?”
Michael answered in a deep voice that had once made me swoon, “A few hours usually, and I’d like us all to go out to dinner after.”
Jeremy’s bounce and jumping beside me meant he wanted to. I had no argument. My son had wanted to know his father. Searching out who he was online had been impossible when I’d been so busy looking up cures for my mom that never panned out. And when she’d died, I’d been in my third trimester, more worried about what to do to prepare for a baby than anything else.
I nodded at Jeremy and wished things had been different as I said, “Then we’ll stay.”
Michael put his Sooners cap back on. “I’ll see you both right after we win.”
“Boo.” The red-headed, overweight man behind us screamed. He had the Pirates logo painted on his cheeks.
I slumped onto the bench and Michael strutted away with that hard, muscular ass I’d once squeezed. He spoke with someone on the team and then they both stared at us.
My jitters were still inside me as I stabbed the ice with my straw in my soda.
Another man, skinnier, wearing a uniform like Michael but much younger than him, ran toward us as the team went onto the field to play. “The team wants to offer the two of you family seats.”
I grabbed Jeremy’s arm like someone might steal him from me. Family with Michael sounded permanent.
I trembled a little and squared my jaw when I said, “We’re fine here.”
The young man then backed away and said, “Well, at the top of the ninth, I’ll come to find you both.”
“Great,” I said and then slumped into my seat.
Jeremy stood and the second I heard the national anthem, I jumped up.
At the end of the singing, and someone in a wheelchair tossing a ceremonial pitch, we took our seats and the game began.
My son asked, “Mom, how do you know Michael Irons?”
Clearly, I was a liar. And a bad one. Maybe I should have at least looked at his baseball cards once or twice, but that wasn’t my interest. I bet I probably had seen his face in passing, but I'd never connected the dots. I’d been more into ensuring Jeremy had what he needed for school, clothes, and ate to stay healthy.
A head rush came from having to explain everything to a six-year-old and then to a sexy grown man right after.
I slumped my head down and didn’t care who was hitting what ball on the field and said to Jeremy, “I… we met at a hotel. I didn’t know he was a professional baseball player.”
Jeremy sounded like my father when he asked, “Where was this hotel?”
I'd been a financial analyst when I’d met Michael. I had gone on an adults-only vacation with some friends who I was no longer close to.
“The Bahamas. The resort was nice.”
Jeremy’s lips thinned and his bright blue eyes didn’t blink. “And you bumped into Michael then?”
“I’d been swimming in the pool when he came and joined me.”
Life had been so easy then. He’d joined me, bought me a drink, and whispered naughty ideas in my ear. My face heated when I remembered how many times his cock had made me writhe in pleasure. I hadn’t wanted anyone else since.
“Jeremy, remember when you asked me who your father was, and I told you I didn’t know?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah.”
I'd read books about this on the off chance the situation arose on how to explain why I was a single mom.
“I didn’t know what happened to Michael or his last name. I thought it was better to assume I’d…we’d never see him again.”
After a long pause, Jeremy’s face brightened and said, “Michael Irons is my father?”
I lowered my voice. “Don’t say that out loud.”
His face lit up as if he just saw the gifts under the tree. “Maybe he can teach me to be a better shortstop like him.”
Maybe. He might be married, have children of his own, a girlfriend. And I didn’t exactly believe I’d ever marry. What if I transitioned into my mother, who’d accepted whatever my father had said without her own opinion?
A shadow came over me and there wasn't a cloud in the sky as I said, “We can’t assume he’ll even want to see us again.”
“Why not? He wants to see us.”
Out of the mouth of babes. Just because his sperm found my egg once, it did not mean he wanted a lifetime commitment. And I wasn’t exactly good wife material.
“Because he doesn’t know about us.”
Jeremy shrugged and ate some of his popcorn. “This game is better than I dreamed, Mom.”
Or the worst day of my life.
I closed my eyes and wished I’d have looked up more about my son’s interest in professional baseball, figured out Michael’s last name, and called the hotel for Michael’s name, or any number of crazy things I could have done but didn’t.
“That’s good for one of us.”
When Michael walked away from us, I’d be left to pick up the pieces of my son’s broken heart. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it, but I had no choice. I needed to see him, too.
How could I ever imagine the man who rocked my world years ago would turn out to be a baseball player? All I remembered was sitting at a pool bar where he whispered naughty things in my ear and convinced me to go to his room with him.
Chapter 2
Michael
A fucking son. One that looked exactly like my dad, with those bright blue eyes that captured my attention. This was like a dream, or nightmare, that roared to life in my work hours.
I was absolutely sure and didn’t need to be told I had a son. That weekend in the Bahamas after my rookie year had been unforgettable because of Georgie.
Her kiss had left me reeling and no one else’s tasted right. And, from my quick view, Georgie’s body was almost the same, though her backside was rounder with sexier curves than I remembered.
Big Michael was already ready for her now that I’d found her again.
My mind spun. This wasn't fucking good.
I’d looked at her hands for a ring. I was clearly crazy, but my body was tense and hard when I’d made it back to the dugout, as I’d wanted to stake my claim.
And every lull in the game had had me glancing over to the brunette and her…our son in a fucking Pirates hat. I was sure of it.
A ball flew past me.
Damn, I needed to get my head straight. I missed a routine grounder.
As we left the first inning, the second baseman, Rogers, patted me on my back and asked, “So you have a family?”
I wasn’t the only one seeing my family’s face stamped on that boy.
I tugged at my jersey collar and said, “Apparently, her parents died, and that’s why she went AWOL on me seven years ago.”
Rogers knew I’d spent the second year on the road scanning the crowds for Georgie to show up. And the third year. And a bit of the fourth. He didn’t know how I rejected every other woman’s offer because no one else smelled or tasted right after being with Georgie.
She’d never showed, until now.
Rogers asked, “And she showed up at your game with your son?”
“Clearly.” I wrapped my hands for batting lineup.
Rogers did the same. “Girls like her will always exist. After the game, pay her off and be done with her. Right now, we need your head in the game.”
No. Even in the hotel, Georgie had been…sweet and memorable. I’d taken out her picture on my phone we’d taken together the day we met at the pool and wished I’d find her again before the start of every game, including now. Praying for her was part of my warm-up routine, but now that prayer was answered.
I squared my shoulders as my turn was coming up but only said, “I play to win.”
I grabbed
my bat and tested it as I made my way to the plate. I stepped on the white plate to signal I was ready. I refused to glance anywhere except into the pitcher’s brown eyes.
The catcher behind me smacked his gums and said, “So Michael, you were hiding that one away good.”
A ball flew past my head over a hundred miles per hour.
I spit and talked back in the same tone. “I wore your mother out last night.”
He laughed. “Yet, it’s your son wearing a Pirate’s jersey there, buddy.”
Fire burst through my veins.
At the crack of the bat, I said, “Take that, fuckers,” and ran.
I made it to third and stopped as I knew I couldn’t barrel my way into home on time.
Georgie and her boy were a direct sight in my line of vision now. The hot blazing sun made her seem heaven-sent to me, and my son was like an added bonus.
His existence meant she’d never forgotten me. And hopefully meant she’d be open to more, because I needed her body. Seven years of pent up energy with only her picture for inspiration had been excruciating.
Soon, Rogers hit the ball, and I made it home on his single.
The crowd jeered. Pirates’ fans were clearly passionate. I wished my own team had been that enthusiastic about my skills during the contract negotiations. As I made it back to my dugout, I saw some fans talking smack to Georgie in the field.
She held her son closer as Rodriguez asked me, “Is she why you’re ditching us at the end of the season?”
I ignored my friend and walked closer to see what was going on.
Fans were screaming at Georgie for bringing the Pirates bad luck as I said, “I’m following the Benjamins. It’s what brought me here and my agent is combing through all offers. It has nothing to do with her.”
If the Sooners had shown me loyalty with their offer, I’d have stayed. I liked my team.
However, I walked into the crowd again as he asked behind me, “You joining these fuck-heads because your girl is here?”
Rodriquez didn’t need an answer. I signaled Aaron, the water and errand boy of the team, to join me.
I jumped up to where she was, and she made sweaty stands somehow smell like summer. “Georgie?”
“Yeah?” She asked and clutched her son with her face white and tight, like she expected a bomb to go off.
I snapped at Aaron to help me out again and said, “Can you get to the family seating area already so you're both safe?”
Georgie looked around and then nodded. “On our way.”
I couldn’t walk with her. I rejoined my team, but I saw Aaron walking her to the family seats, where no one else would ever hit her off the back of the head or scream in her face.
Georgie had no idea, but she’d been the only girl I’d dreamed about and the last person in my pathetic bed for years now, and that was pretty telling as I traveled around the country for a living. Rodriguez had married, divorced, and married another while I’d been in fucking limbo waiting for Georgie.
The next inning went better.
I caught every ball and light had returned to my step.
This time, I followed all my usual routines and when I went up to plate, I didn’t hear a word of the pitcher's smack talk. I hit the ball like it was a softball, and it made it over the wall.
The crowd jeered as the announcer said, “Homerun.”
“That was awesome.” Rogers dug his cleats into the field as I neared the dugout.
I detoured to go to the family area as I said fast, “My lucky charm is here.”
I didn’t care that the cameras heard me or that my team saw.
I returned to where she was and smelled the dewy sweetness.
The cameras were all on me, and adrenaline from the homerun was still in my veins, as I grabbed her soft sides like no time had passed.
Georgie softened and her eyelids lowered.
She still felt good in my arms as she said, “Michael!”
Her fingers twirled in my hair and I pressed against her and said, “We’ll talk after.”
Without thinking, I pressed my lips to hers and fireworks exploded in my veins. My memories had all been right. She was fucking perfect.
She kissed me back, her hands in my thick hair and her soft lips that set me off made me forget where I was. I’d shaved part of my skull and she massaged it in a way only Georgie had ever done.
For one second, I was transported back in time to when I’d met her in the pool. She’d not asked for my rookie autograph. She’d just been pretty in her yellow bikini that I’d found a way to get off her that very night.
As the kiss ended, the world returned to color. I remembered where I was and saw the open mouth of my father in her young son’s face.
The announcer overhead said, “Michael Irons caught on the kiss cam.”
I glanced at the Jumbotron. Everyone in the stadium must have seen it. My agent would call this reckless unless I claimed her as mine fast.
I winked at her and as I made it back to my dugout, I heard the announcer ask, “Will Michael be joining the Pirates next season? His son is wearing a Pirates shirt.”
That would be corrected. I went where the money was. The Sooners hadn’t shown up with the right dollar sign to show their desire to keep me, and I wasn’t fucking waiting for them. Team loyalty was for players who wanted to stay poor and this was quite possibly my last million-dollar contract before I retired.
I guess it shouldn’t matter. I had enough money to not care, except I did. I needed the money as evidence I was the best. It validated my years of hard work to perfect my game.
I refused to ever be a poor kid from the cornfields who didn’t know any better than how to lose a dime of my money.
In college, I'd studied finance. That time, combined with my skill of the game, had secured my future, for when this ended.
Truthfully, I’d never pictured my life after leaving the field forever, except having more in the bank was better as life threw curveballs, like having a son with Georgie.
Now, I had a son to ensure his financial well-being and I didn’t know his name. I would remedy that. Fast.
The last batter was up, and I watched with my team. Unless the Pirates pulled off a miracle, the game was ours.
But I still held my breath as I always did when the relief pitcher tossed the potential final ball.
The batter swung but missed.
We won. I high fived my team and then took the field to shake hands with the other team. Who honestly knew. Maybe the Pirates did have the best offer for me next year. Anything was possible, my son and my woman lived here, and I told my agent we’d look over the numbers in the range I wanted when I got back to Tulsa.
Free agenting was a blur, but for now, it didn’t matter. The Sooners needed to pony up if they wanted me. I left my team, who were heading into the locker room, and motioned for the water boy to join me.
As I neared Georgie again, the air smelled like her floral scent. I’d forgotten her smell until today.
I placed my hand on her back and she jumped. “Look, the game is over. I need you both to follow Aaron. I’ll meet you as soon as I’m free.”
Her big brown eyes captured my attention as she asked, “Aaron?”
Part of me wanted to grab her, rip her clothes off and make her mine right here on the field. But her son was beside her, and I wanted to meet him, too.
So I nodded and patted the water boy’s back as I said, “He’ll get you to the family waiting area so we can leave.”
I took a step back, but she craned her neck as she glanced toward me and asked, “Where are you going?”
I winked. My veins still had energy that I needed to get under control. “Shower, change, and give some interviews. Give me ten minutes.”
I turned, but she asked, “Michael?”
I smiled at her and glanced at the boy whose pinched face was exactly like my father’s when I screwed up and didn’t catch the ball. “We’ll talk, Beautiful. It seems we have
a lot of catching up to do.”
A fast shower helped clear my head. The boy was mine. I’d still want a test to confirm for the lawyers and the estate, but I wasn’t blind. As I left the shower, Paulie Rodriguez called from the ice machine for me to come over.
I threw some jeans on and he asked, “Who was the woman you were kissing?”
“An old friend,” I said, though I fully remembered how Georgie’s arms around me as I took her in every direction felt like. It was like sex with her branded me because no other woman’s lips or body captured my attention.
The few second chance smoke kisses planted on me left me reeling, like I'd betrayed Georgie, so I never pursued women. Finally, I knew Georgie’s address and phone number. She was back in my life and I wasn’t giving her up.
I had a shot at reclaiming those moments.
Paulie gave me a wolfish smile. “You called her your lucky charm. How have we never seen her before when you’ve had a stellar career?”
“And no signs of stopping,” I answered fast.
I’d not be swayed with team friendships for going after the big money contract when the Sooners hadn’t shown that to me. This was my time.
His gaze narrowed as he asked, “Right, so who is she?”
I took out my phone and showed him my sacred picture of us at the moment we'd met at the pool. “For the past seven years, I’ve been carrying her picture with me on my phone. When I look at her face, I win. If I miss this routine, I lose. So, I’ve been seeing this picture of us for years.”
The yellow bikini had caught my eye that day and when I'd succeeded in my mission of removing it, she’d branded me forever.
I grabbed one of the team hats and tucked it in my back pocket as Paulie asked, “And the boy?”
Mine, but who knows what would happen next right now.
I put my phone back and waved to him. “Stay tuned. Look, I got to go.”
Reporters caught me. I talked about having a good game and how I was open to all offers with the right amount of perks.
One reporter asked about Georgie and the boy in the Pirates shirt.
Rocking Player: Single Mom Second Chance Romance (Steel Series Book 2) Page 2