“Or we could go out somewhere and then back to watch some movies while it storms,” I suggest. “No cooking or clean up required.”
“Now, that sounds like the perfect plan,” she says, then takes off to go check on Addison, who’s calling her over.
“Your niece is such a cutie,” Brooke says, pulling my attention back to her.
“Thanks, they’re both pretty great, if I do say so myself.”
“Kind of nice to have them so close by,” she comments.
“It is. Jillian stays home with them, and my brother's work schedule makes him gone a lot, so it works well for us to get together throughout the week. They love playing with Evie, almost like a warm-up for when their brother is born this fall.”
“How fun. I was going to ask when she was due but didn’t want to be rude,” she says, smiling at me.
“Yeah,” I say, laughing. “The first boy, so we’re all excited about that.”
“I bet. Do you have any other nieces?”
“Nope, just my brother and me.”
“Fun. I love being an aunt. Unfortunately, I don’t live near my siblings anymore, so I don’t get to see them and spoil them all that often. I moved out here with a previous nanny family.”
“That’s cool. I take it you like it here, then?”
“I do! I’ve been here now for about six years, and it really became home. You said you’d just moved here before starting to nanny, is that correct?”
“Yep, I finished my degree last year, but my first job was kind of a crash and burn. Nothing was really holding me to Ohio, so I asked my brother and sister-in-law if they’d be okay with me moving here to be close to them, and they loved the idea. So that weekend, I packed my things and drove down. A few weeks after that, the need for a last-minute nanny came up, and I hadn’t secured a job yet, so it worked perfectly.”
“Sounds like it was meant to be, then. Was her previous nanny just not a good fit?” she asks.
“Nope, just a last-minute need,” I tell her, being as vague as possible.
“Well, I’m glad it worked out, then.”
“Me too,” I tell her, smiling slightly at how well things have worked out.
Evie starts crying, I think she’s tired of swinging, for now. I pull her out of the swing, holding her up as if she’s an airplane, bringing her down so I can blow a raspberry on her chubby cheek, then back up again. We repeat this a few times until I’ve got her laughing hard.
“It was nice talking to you, Brooke; maybe we’ll see you and Benjamin down here again.”
“Nice to meet you, Riley! Would you like to exchange numbers? We could make a plan to meet up sometime?”
“Sure,” I tell her, grabbing my phone from my back pocket as I place Evie on my hip. I enter Brooke’s number then shoot her a text, so she has mine. “Evie and I look forward to it!” I tell her before I walk off to find Jillian and the girls. I take Evie down the slide a couple of times, then head for the stroller and pull out a blanket to spread out on the grass so we can sit down. I pull out a few of her toys, and she happily plays in the shade.
“Ugh. Don’t ever get pregnant at the beginning of the year,” Jillian says as she lowers herself to the ground. “Being as large as a house in the middle of summer is miserable.”
“No plans of getting pregnant anytime soon,” I tell her, holding back a laugh.
“I’m serious. When you are ready for a baby of your own, not that Evie isn’t basically yours already, try to plan to get pregnant during the summer. That way, you're big when it’s wintertime and not so godforsaken hot outside. The only nice thing about being pregnant during the summer is the baby will be born towards the end of the season, hopefully, so Derek will be home a lot while he’s little, and I’ll need the most help.”
“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” I tell her, just to appease her.
“You and JJ going to be okay?” she asks quietly.
“I think so. I promised him that I wouldn’t jump to conclusions if it happens again. It was just hard to see and read.”
“It is. Hopefully, they’ll get over making him into a headline. But from experience, it still hurts every time it happens. Even when you know that not one ounce of it is the truth. Derek has had his fair share of headlines, and so many of them were completely made up shit just to make him look bad and for them to get clicks to their website. The best advice that I can give you is to stop looking at them. Don’t go searching for what they’re posting. If it isn’t in the forefront of your mind, then it can’t put that little bit of doubt there, either. You either have to trust him one thousand percent, or not. There isn’t any place for doubt of that kind if you want things to work between the two of you.”
“I know. I like your advice to not go looking for articles. It's just hard sometimes, ya know,” I tell her as I hand a toy back to Evie.
“Oh, do I ever,” she says, laughing. “When Derek first started playing here, I had a Google alert set to send me anything his name was mentioned in. I had to turn it off within the first week. At that point, he wasn’t making the news for anything scandalous, but I realized even then that people would write whatever they wanted to, no matter how true it was or how far they were bending that truth.”
“That’s so shitty. Why is it that they can post complete crap and get away with it?”
“Free speech and all that jazz. Things like this morning's post, JJ’s PR company can get taken down and, in some instances, get them to issue an apology stating that it was incorrect information yada, yada, yada. While I appreciate those kinds of statements, it doesn’t change the fact that they released that out there, and people aren’t just going to forget about it. And nothing ever fully goes away once it’s on the internet. And these shitty tabloids know that and bank on that for future articles. They want people to believe that these guys are just out partying it up while they’re on the road, and it isn’t like that doesn’t happen. But they want to make it appear that everyone on the team is doing that, no matter if they have a wife and or kids back home. I won’t lie to you and say that there hasn’t been a married guy who has done just that, because they absolutely have, but it's not the everyday norm. Most of these guys are some of the sweetest, most down to earth, family men that you’ll meet. They just happen to hit a ball for a living and get paid damn well to do so.”
“I’m so glad that I have you to help me navigate all of this.”
“And I’m here whenever you need me,” she assures me.
“Thanks,” I tell her, leaning over to give her a side hug.
“Ready to round up the kids and head out for some lunch? I’m starving.”
“Sure. What does little mister want today?” I ask, nodding toward her stomach.
She rubs her stomach and laughs. “Tacos sounds really good right now.”
“They do. Qdoba?” I suggest.
“That’ll do,” she agrees.
“Okay, you stay here with this little chunk, and I’ll go round up the girls,” I tell her as I pop up from the ground. It only takes me a minute or so to spot the girls and get them over to the blanket. “Did you guys walk here or drive?” I ask Jillian as I fold up the blanket and stuff it in the bottom basket of the stroller.
“We drove. I didn’t want to tire out with the heat.”
“Sounds good. Do you want to follow me home so I can grab the car seat and then we can head out?”
“We can do that,” Jillian agrees. “You can get a head start, and I’ll get the girls loaded up, and then we’ll be over in just a few.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you three in just a few, then,” I tell her as Evie and I head off toward home.
Seventeen
Justin
“Hell of a game,” Matt O’Riley, our first baseman, says, smacking my ass with his glove.
“Hell yes, it was,” I tell him, repeating the ass slap.
“You get everything straightened out from this morning?” he questions.
“Yep.
Carmen was on it, so was my PR rep. I got a text this afternoon that they got the website to take it down and issue an apology. Those fuckers know the damage is already done.”
“Do you know who posted it?” he asks.
“Yeah, that chick reporter from that sports blog. She was at the family day game, asking lots of questions, trying to weasel her way into the friends and family area, as well. She rubbed me wrong with some of the questions she was asking down on the field and then her little article the next morning.”
“Sounds like she’s got her sights locked on to you and just wants to bring you down. You didn’t fuck her in the past only to kick her out of your bed, did you? Maybe she’s out for personal revenge?” he suggests.
“Fuck, no.” I balk at that idea, but the truth is, that exact situation could have happened; although I usually remember the women I’ve fucked in the past. The number isn’t quite as high as some of my teammates assume it is.
“Maybe one of her friends?” he asks.
“Hell if I know. She might just be a crazy chick that has a vendetta, for whatever reason. Mad that she can’t bag a professional athlete.”
“Maybe. Well, hopefully, she backs off your ass.”
“Maybe someone else on the team could fuck up and give her a new focus,” I joke.
“Not it,” he says, touching the tip of his nose like kids do when they don’t want to be the one to have to do something sacrificial.
“Your time will come,” I tell him.
“Nope. I’m an altar boy,” he says, and I bust up laughing at his lie.
“I wouldn’t believe that for a minute,” I retort.
“Hey, we can’t all be reformed manwhores like you,” he tosses right back at me as we both start to strip out of our uniforms.
I quickly drop everything, wrapping a towel around my waist, then grab my shower kit from my locker before heading in to do my business. Visitor locker rooms are never all that fancy, just the basic necessities. Sometimes we’re lucky to have enough hot water and good water pressure for everyone to get through showers after the game.
Once I’m back at my locker, I quickly pull on a pair of boxer briefs before running my towel over my head to dry off my hair. I pull out my cell to see if I have any missed messages or calls and see a few notifications from Riley, so I unlock my phone, going directly to her messages.
First, I find a couple of pictures from Riley playing with Evie, Addison, and Penelope. Those are followed by one of my girls curled up together on the couch, bottle in Evie’s hands and mouth as Riley’s lips are pressed against the top of her head. She’s captioned the image with “Go, Daddy! Your girls are cheering you on!” I can’t help but smile at the image and message that came in around when the game would have started. Two more pictures follow that awhile later, one of Evie passed out in Riley's arms, with the caption “Someone couldn’t hack staying awake for the entire game.” The fact that she fell asleep doesn’t surprise me one bit, nor would Riley want her to. She’s worked hard on getting Evie into a good solid routine, and sleep is an essential part of that.
Her final picture causes my eyebrows to pop up. She sent it just a few minutes ago, probably while I was in the shower. It’s a good thing none of the other guys are close enough to see over my shoulder right about now. This picture is meant just for my eyes and has my dick stirring in my boxers. Not something that I really want popping up while in the locker room, but my girl is sexy as fuck. She’s standing in my bedroom in front of the full-length mirror I have on the closet door, my jersey on, only one button holding it together between her breasts, showing me slivers of the bra and panties she’s got on underneath. “I’ll be waiting for you…” she captioned it, capped off with a kissing emoji. My mouth waters at the fact that I know exactly what is waiting for me when we get home late tonight.
“What’s got you so engrossed in your phone?” Derek asks, smacking me on the shoulder. I quickly lock my phone, setting it down on the shelf in my locker.
“Just some pictures from Riley from their day,” I tell him, having to clear my throat thanks to that last one.
“Fuck, my sister better not be sending you nudes,” he grumbles.
“Fuck no. Some not suitable for your or anyone else’s eyes, maybe,” I tease him, and he just groans.
“Why do you have to say that shit to me? It’s bad enough that I know that you’re fucking her.”
“Then, don’t ask,” I reply, shooting him a shit-eating smirk. In all reality, Derek has taken the news of Riley and me pretty well. I was expecting him to kick my ass, but one conversation over beers, and he was willing to accept that we were serious about each other. I know that he wouldn’t hold back kicking my ass if I was to ever hurt her in any way.
“She over the drama from earlier? When I talked to Jillian, she said they’d had a good day together.”
“Yeah, I got her calmed down. I just hope it doesn’t happen again,” I tell him honestly as I pull my shirt on over my head.
“We all know that won’t happen anytime soon,” he tells me, flashing me a sorrowful look. “Hell, as much as I don’t want them posting anything about anyone on our team, I have to say, I’m thankful it isn’t another thing about me, for once. About damn time someone else takes the spotlight from me.”
“I’ll gladly give it back or pass it on to someone else.”
“I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” he quips.
I flip him the bird as I pack my things all away in my bag. I sling it over my shoulder and head out to the waiting bus that will take us to the airport. Once in my seat, I pull my phone back out and shoot off a text to Riley.
JJ: You still awake?
Riley: Yep
JJ: Thank you for all the pictures today… although, your brother almost caught me looking at that last one.
Riley: Oh god… maybe you should delete it.
JJ: Fuck, no. I’m keeping that one. That’s spank bank material.
Riley: :groan:
Riley: Can you put it somewhere safe, at least? Fingerprint protect it? I DO NOT need my brother to find that in your camera roll.
Riley: I’m serious. I should have never sent it. :smacking face:
JJ: Calm down, babe. It isn’t like you’re naked. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll figure out how to make sure it is locked down. I can research it on the flight home.
Riley: Thank you. I’ll see what I can find, myself, and send it to you.
JJ: I’m not worried about it, babe. It isn’t like the guys routinely flip through pictures on my phone.
Riley: Still.
JJ: Stop stressing. I want you nice and relaxed when I get home tonight. Can I wake you up when I get back?
Riley: That depends…….
JJ: On?
Riley: How do you plan on waking me up? :devilish grin emoji:
JJ: How does my mouth on your pussy sound?
Riley: Like the best way to be woken up.
JJ: Followed by you riding my cock. I want to see those tits bounce while you ride me.
Riley: Well, okay, then. (Also, I’m already wet thinking about it.)
JJ: Fuuuuuuck. You had to go there, didn’t you?
Riley: You painted such a vivid picture. Sorry that my body responded? :winky face – water droplets – winky face:
JJ: You’re making me hard. Thank god I’m on the bus and not still in the locker room. That was a little awkward earlier when I first looked at the picture. Standing only a few feet from your brother with my dick going hard while I looked at your sexiness was throwing my mind for a loop.
Riley: #sorrynotsorry :shrugging shoulders:
JJ: You’ll pay for that later. I can promise you that.
Riley: Promise?
JJ: Absolutely. :kissy-face emoji:
Riley: BRB… Evie is crying.
JJ: She okay? This is kind of a weird time of night for her to be waking up, isn’t it?
I flip out of my messages and start researchin
g how to secure the pictures, for her sanity. Before I know it, the bus is moving, and we’re off to the airport. The ballpark here in Cleveland isn’t super far from the airport, and the flight is a quick one, less than an hour from wheels up to wheels down, so I’ll be home and sliding into bed with Riley within two hours, max.
We arrive at the airport and I get settled. Most guys have a preferred seat or general area they like. Derek takes the seat across from me in our four-seat pod. Two of the seats face the back of the plane while the other two face forward like normal. There's a table in the center that we’ll often play cards on during long flights.
Once settled, our flight attendant, Julie, makes her rounds, bringing us all drinks and any snacks that we might want. The team doesn’t skimp when it comes to stocking the plane. I pull my phone out of my pocket, plugging it into the charger here at my seat—another perk of flying on a private jet. Riley still hasn’t replied to my text after she went to deal with Evie, and that’s starting to worry me.
“What’s that look for?” Derek asks.
“I was texting with Riley on the bus, and she had to go as Evie was crying. She hasn’t texted back, and I’m worried now that something is wrong.”
“I’m sure everything is fine. Maybe she fell asleep lying down with her? Or maybe she’s up with a new tooth pushing through?” he suggests.
The Curve Ball (Indianapolis Lightning Book 2) Page 16