by Tara Sivec
TARA SIVEC
“Hawks fans still in shock after centerfielder, Shepherd Oliver, sustained season-ending injury last night in the 5th inning of the playoffs against Chicago.”
Two years ago, I was a pretty big deal. I thought I had it all, until a blast from my past popped up on my social media feed, keeping my ego in check and reminding me how basic I am. Except sassy Wren Bennett isn’t just a blast from my past. She’s the only woman I ever saw a future with.
Even though my soul leaves my body every time she says she hates baseball and has never watched me play, a year’s-worth of messages filled with laughter and sarcasm only remind me how amazing my “pen pal” is. Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter how fine I look in a pair of baseball pants; I’m still 3,000 miles away, and she’s taken… or so I thought. Maybe I should have thought a little harder before I dropped her like a seeing-eye single into the outfield.
When an injury has me questioning everything about my life, I can only think of one place I need to go and one person I need to see. Home, to Summersweet Island, to get back my “pen pal.”
Now I just need to make sure single mom Wren knows I didn’t come back for a change, and I didn’t come back for a job. I’m swinging for the fences, and I’m finally coming home to make her mine. If only she’d stop insulting me and stay in one place long enough for me to tell her. She wouldn’t try to drown me with a tub of ice cream, right?
I’m sure it’ll be fine.
Swing and a Mishap
Copyright © 2020 Tara Sivec
Kobo Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
License Notice
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you wish to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer
This is a work of adult fiction. The author does not endorse or condone any of the behavior enclosed within. The subject matter may not be appropriate for minors. All trademarks and copyrighted items mentioned are the property of their respective owners.
Edits by KD Robichaux
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Interior Design by Paul Salvette, BB eBooks
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Cover Design by Michelle Preast Illustration and Design
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For Drew.
My favorite baseball player in the whole world.
Never, ever read past this page.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About the Book
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
PROLOGUE
Two years ago…
Official Shepherd Oliver: Hey! Long time, no talk! I hope you don’t think it’s creepy I’m private messaging you after not talking since, oh, a few years after high school. I just get a little weird about having personal conversations out in the open on social media in front of the whole world to see, so I thought I’d move our discussion from the video you posted.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Okay, that makes me sound like a celebrity diva. I’m NOT a diva, I swear. I will lose my shit if there isn’t grape Bubblicious bubble gum in the locker room on game days, but that’s a superstition and for the well-being of my team and has absolutely nothing to do with me being a demanding princess. This privacy has less to do with me and my personal business and more to do with my friends and family and THEIR personal business. Our fans are awesome but rabid. Someone showed up at my cousin David’s house once with a present for me, because David commented on one of my pictures, and this fan went down the Google rabbit hole until she found his address.
Official Shepherd Oliver: This fan didn’t break into his house and boil a bunny or like, cut off one of her fingers and leave it on David’s front porch or anything. The present was actually a very lovely scrapbook she put together. So many cool freaking stickers. And only ten pages of Photoshopped pictures of the two of us in compromising positions accompanied by a poem about how true our love is. It’s fine. Nothing bad happened, and she’s safely behind bars now.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Wow, so I’m really making it sound like a super idea to continue talking to me. You can go ahead and block me now. I will completely understand. Tell everyone I’m sorry I couldn’t make it home for the high school reunion a few years ago.
Wren Bennett: LOL OMG!
Wren Bennett: Sorry! I hit Enter too soon. Probably because I was laughing so hard. Or crying? I don’t know. Your life is strange but much more exciting than mine. And it’s totally fine about moving our conversation private. I get it. You’re a big, famous professional baseball player now. Seriously, congratulations on all your success, Shepherd! It’s amazing. And thank you for the tip you gave me on the video I posted of my son’s first time at bat from his game last week. He stepped into the pitch instead of stepping out when he swung at his next game and got a triple. I screamed so loud I couldn’t talk for days LOL!
Official Shepherd Oliver: Holy shit, that’s amazing! Good for him. There is absolutely nothing better than learning a new skill and watching it work for you. It’s kind of crazy I just happened to get on social media for the first time in forever, and your video was the first thing to pop up. I haven’t logged in to any of my stuff in ages. My PR person handles all of that for me, but she’s on vacation, and my teenage nieces keep yelling at me for not being cool or knowing how to use the SnapGramInstaWeb whatever. Anyway, your son’s got a beautiful natural swing, and it caught my eye. I’m glad I could help. Seriously, any baseball questions you have EVER, don’t hesitate to ask.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Sorry, am I overstepping? I’m sure his dad can give him whatever help he needs.
Wren Bennett: You’re definitely not overstepping. And his dad… isn’t big into sports. Your expertise is definitely appreciated.
Official Shepherd Oliver: I wasn’t sure if he was in your lives or not and didn’t want to be a jerk and come right out and ask. There aren’t any pictures of him on your account or anything. Not that I was a creeper and looked (I was totally a creeper and looked). And also, like ZERO pictures of your son (Insert sarcasm here). Wow, it’s like you don’t even care that you’re his mom.
Wren Bennett: Ha ha, very funny. I realize there are an alarming number of pictures and videos of Owen on my social media. Whatever, don’t judge me. I’ll slow my roll when he’s a teenager in a year, complains that I’m being annoying, and wants nothing to do with me. *crying emoji*
Official Shepherd Oliver: I am definitely not judging you. I th
ink it’s awesome you’re so proud of him. Also, have you seen my mother’s social media lately? Why in the hell did I ever buy her a smartphone and teach her how to use it? She posted a throwback picture of me in little league, the first time I ever played center field. I’m on my back making grass angels in the outfield while picking my nose.
Wren Bennett: I know. My sister printed it and hung it up in her office at the golf course.
Official Shepherd Oliver: By “my sister,” you mean you, right?
Wren Bennett: Gotta go, late for work!
Official Shepherd Oliver: I feel so betrayed! Make it up to me by watching me play tonight. Home game against the Longhorns, prime time on channel 3.
Wren Bennett: Maybe. We’ll see how early I get home from work. Don’t think I’ve ever seen one of your games. Sorry!
Official Shepherd Oliver: GASP! I feel more betrayed right now than when April Miller dumped me two days before senior prom.
Wren Bennett: OMG I forgot about that! It was the first time in Summersweet High School history the prom king didn’t have a date. If it makes you feel any better, April Miller is kind of a ho now. Gina at Starboard Sweets told me April went to a bachelorette party in Vegas last month and came home with herpes from a bartender she hooked up with at the Chippendales show, and now she can’t get a date to save her life.
Official Shepherd Oliver: So the rumors are true—Herpes really IS the gift that keeps on giving. This news pleases me. Your betrayal has been forgiven.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Nice comeback for a win against the Rangers last night! Tell Owen to turn his hips more when he’s swinging. His hips need to get in front of his shoulders before he plants his back foot. He’s a little guy like I was at that age. Getting his hips going will help him drive that ball just as far as guys bigger and stronger than him.
Wren Bennett: You know I didn’t start talking to you again just to use you for your baseball knowledge. But thank you!
Official Shepherd Oliver: Oh, I know. It’s definitely because of my sparkling personality and how great I look in a pair of baseball pants. Also, I told you two weeks ago what you could do for me as payback for my brilliance. Would you look at that? My inbox is still void of the video I requested.
Wren Bennett: You know what you asked for is weird, right? And if you came home to visit Summersweet Island every once in a while, you wouldn’t need a video, and you could experience what you desire live and in person.
Official Shepherd Oliver: I still can’t believe I haven’t made it back to the island since I left. What’s it been, like thirteen years? It’s just hard with my schedule and now that my parents live over on the mainland closer to my sisters and their families. And since my parents are retired and have become travelholics, they always want to fly out to wherever I am to visit. I know. I suck.
Wren Bennett: You DO suck. You’re such an awful human being for buying your parents a gorgeous new home in Norfolk so they can use their cottage here on the island as a vacation home and making it so they never have to work again, as well as setting up the Little Cleats Foundation, a charity that donates over 5,000 little league uniforms to teams that can’t afford them every year. I’m kind of disgusted I’m even talking to you right now. *puking emoji*
Official Shepherd Oliver: I don’t remember you being such a shit-talker in high school.
Wren Bennett: I’ve seen some shit, so I talk some shit.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Keep it up. It looks good on you, Bennett. Also, send me the video I requested and know you recorded. SEND IT!
Wren Bennett: OMG…
Wren Bennett: *video attachment* And no, I did NOT set it to porn music, you weird perv.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Seriously? You couldn’t even record this in slow motion for me? You, dipping your hand into a container of salt water taffy from Chew on This while letting the delicious wax-paper-wrapped nuggets of heaven drop from your palm at normal speed is just pointless and awful cinematography.
Wren Bennett: Were you hit in the head by a pitch recently?
Official Shepherd Oliver: Shhh… I’m on the 13th viewing of this video. I can aaalmost taste them. I fucking miss that salt water taffy, man. Send me another video next time you’re there. And for the love of the salt water taffy gods, RECORD IT IN SLOW MOTION. Do a closeup of you unwrapping a piece too. Slooowly.
Wren Bennett: I’m blocking you.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Hey, you still up? I have a really important question.
Wren Bennett: Who is this?
Official Shepherd Oliver: Seriously? I’m messaging you from my official Instagram account like always. My name and picture are literally right there in front of you.
Wren Bennett: You could be a troll impersonating the famous pro baseball player, Shepherd Oliver, who I went to high school with. So many crazies in the world these days. Elvis followed me on Twitter yesterday. Apparently, he’s alive and well in Tucson and has 136 followers. You’re going to need to do something to prove to me you’re really who you say you are before I can continue this conversation. Tell me something only the real Shepherd Oliver would know.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Or you could just scroll up and look at the ten thousand messages you’ve sent me over the last few months since we started talking again. You’re very needy.
Wren Bennett: Who messaged me two nights ago from the grocery store because he couldn’t decide between mint chocolate chip or cookie dough ice cream? Oh, that’s right. NOT you, because you’re a troll pretending to be Shepherd Oliver. BYE.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Your family owns one of the best ice cream stands in the entire world. When I am having an ice cream crisis, of COURSE I’m going to message the ice cream queen. And might I remind you that your lack of an immediate response during my crisis caused me to get recognized by a fan? I had to put up with seven selfies all with different filters in the goddamn freezer section and was so annoyed by that point I ended up putting sherbet in my cart. Sherbet is where ice cream goes to die, Wren.
Wren Bennett: A troll could easily google that information about me. Not good enough, TROLL.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Fine. Something only the real Shepherd Oliver would know? Okay then, after exactly 3.5 vodka slushes, you think you can sing and like to send videos of yourself doing so at two in the morning. #itsoundslikeaherdofcatsdying #dontquityourdayjob
Wren Bennett: It was ONE video two nights ago, and you know I didn’t mean to send it to you. It was supposed to go to my sister to cheer her up. You are the worst. I swear to God you better have deleted that video.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Of course I deleted it! Speaking of your sister, I see Birdie is still rage posting on social media about people showing their true colors. Her best friend still hasn’t spoken to her?
Wren Bennett: Nope. Not a word in months. I feel so bad for her, but I don’t know what else to do.
Official Shepherd Oliver: I remember meeting Palmer Campbell with you guys a few times back in high school. He seemed like a cool guy, and he’s definitely a badass on the golf course. You’re a good sister. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m sure they’ll work it out.
Wren Bennett: Yeah, you’re probably right. They’ll work things out eventually. Anyway, what was the important question you had for me?
Official Shepherd Oliver: *video attachment*
Official Shepherd Oliver: My question is, when you play this video, do the island dogs start howling and do the windows in your cottage start breaking?
Wren Bennett: I hate you so much right now. You said you deleted it!
Official Shepherd Oliver: My fingers were crossed when I typed that.
Wren Bennett: If you had to pick between the Devils or the Warhawks for a baseball travel team to play on, which would you choose?
Official Shepherd Oliver: I played for the Warhawks. It’s pricier but in my opinion worth the extra money. Your son will get a lot more one-on-one training during practice with
them than he will with the Devils. And the Warhawks offset the costs of the tournaments you’ll play with a lot of fundraising, so in the end, you most likely won’t even pay tournament fees. When you take Owen to tryouts, ask for Brian Riggle and tell him I sent you. He’s in charge of Owen’s age group.
Wren Bennett: THANK YOU!
Official Shepherd Oliver: I’m at the airport now getting ready to board a plane to Houston for a game, but as soon as I get to the hotel, I’ll send you a few YouTube videos of some training drills he can do to get ready for tryouts.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Help me. I’m dying.
Wren Bennett: Are you being overdramatic, or do I actually need to call 911?
Official Shepherd Oliver: When am I ever overdramatic?
Wren Bennett: You sent me an audio clip of nothing but you screaming the other day when I told you no.
Official Shepherd Oliver: I asked you if you’ve watched me play on TV yet. What response was expected after an answer so flippant and appalling?
Wren Bennett: I’m a little busy at work right now. You want to get to the point of this message anytime soon?
Official Shepherd Oliver: Hey, I didn’t tell you to slack off and check social media during work hours. Anyway, no big deal, just hiding out in the men’s room at a club in L.A., and I’m pretty sure someone is receiving oral pleasures a few stalls down, and now I can’t leave or they’ll know I’m in here and it will be really awkward.
Wren Bennett: Are you… going to the bathroom right now??????
Official Shepherd Oliver: No!
Official Shepherd Oliver: Also, possibly yes.
Official Shepherd Oliver: Look, this isn’t about me right now. Let’s focus on what’s important. I’m at a stupid club opening for a friend of a friend, and I only showed up, because David Beckham said he’d never speak to me again if I didn’t, and then my dad would never speak to me again if he stopped getting free soccer tickets. Now that the photo ops are over and there’s no more free food being passed around (best goddamn crab cakes I’ve had in my LIFE, and the waiter told me it was because they use fresh dill), I’m bored as hell, so I’ve been hiding out in the bathroom playing Solitaire on my phone and was just about to beat my top score when two people came in here thinking the bathroom was empty. I can’t concentrate on my card game with all this moaning and slurping.