Copyright © 2020 Kimberly Knight
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
Austin
The sun began to rise over the wall in center field as I stared absentmindedly from home plate. It wasn't the first time I'd been on the field, but it was the first time the Lone Star Heat—Austin's Triple-A baseball team—and the entire stadium was all mine.
"One day, kiddo, all of this will be yours," my grandfather had said to me twenty-three years prior when I was just ten-years-old.
"How?" I'd asked, tossing a baseball into my glove as we walked onto the field to play catch.
"Because when I'm gone, I want it to be in good hands."
"Mine?"
He'd smiled and caught the ball I'd thrown him. "As long as you still love the game, it will be yours."
I did still love the game even though a week prior, my grandfather had died of a heart attack.
"Ms. Daniels?"
I blinked out of my reverie and turned to see the head coach, Ron Roach, standing next to me. My parents named me Austin since my dad's name is Dallas, and my grandfather went by Tex. Needless to say, we were proud Texans. I plastered on a fake smile. "You can still call me Austin, Ron. What's up?"
"I didn't expect to see you here."
"I'm here most days." Not only was I now the owner of the team, but I was the executive director of marketing and promotions for over eight years, and just as invested in the team as my grandfather had been—another reason I inherited the team and not my father.
"Tex's funeral was yesterday."
I nodded, looking past him at the home team dugout, and sighed. "I know."
"Go home, Austin. Take some time—"
My gaze moved back to him. "This is home."
He smiled warmly. "I get it, but don't you want—"
"What I want is to keep his dream alive."
He nodded. "All right, I understand. Let me know if you need anything."
"Actually"—I smiled at him—"I need a seat on the bus."
His brow furrowed. "The bus?"
"I'm going with the team to Oklahoma City."
"Really?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Of course not, but you know we're there for five days and then head to Nashville for four, right?"
"I know." I started toward the dugout to walk down to where the locker rooms and the elevator to the main offices were located. "I can always fly home if I need to. Bus leaves at nine, right?"
I heard Ron's footsteps behind me. "On the dot."
My grandfather would always say, 'You wouldn't buy a yacht and not use it, would you?' He believed that the owner should see how his or her team performed on the road, but I believed he liked to travel with the team to see more games because he lived and breathed baseball.
Even though my grandfather was the owner, he didn't have any say in trades or the players in general. He followed Major League Baseball rules, regulations, and bylaws, and he was financially responsible for Lone Star Heat's obligations, and being able to travel with the team was a way to let loose and have fun during the season. Or he did all those things. Now it was up to me, and I wasn't going to let him down.
After giving my bag to the driver to stow, I boarded the chartered bus. I'd never traveled with the team before, and nobody was on it yet, so I took the seat behind the driver. The day after my grandfather died, a letter was sent to staff, coaches, and players to let them know I was now the owner. I wanted the coaches and players to be aware that I wasn't going to hide in the shadows, even if that meant being with them for nine days. I also wanted—and needed—a distraction from my grandfather’s passing.
Engrossed in checking my emails on my phone, I didn't hear the first person arrive until they were boarding the bus. "Is it okay if I sit here?" I asked Ron as he sat across from me.
"Of course. It's your team, Austin."
"I know. I just wanted to make sure."
"Tex always sat in that seat." He pointed. "It's yours now."
I grinned. "Perfect."
The players and other coaches started to board the bus. Most of them blinked in surprise at seeing me, but I knew they'd get used to seeing me just like they had my grandfather.
A minute before the bus was due to depart, I stood. "Listen up!" Ron shouted, and it was like a wave of silence washed over the bus.
I took a deep breath. "I'm sure all of you know who I am. First, I want to say thank you for attending my grandfather's funeral and celebrating his life. He was my best friend, and I'm not sure how life is going to be without him, but I will do everything in my power to keep up all he did for the team. If you ever need anything, my door is always open."
Chapter Two
Hayden
Holy fuck. Austin Daniels was fucking hot. I'd seen her at her grandfather's funeral the day before, but at the time she had on dark sunglasses, and I couldn't see her entire face. But holy hell, was she stunning or what?
Man!
"If you ever need anything, my door is always open."
"I need your mouth on my dick," Vargas said under his breath beside me.
I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. "That's the new owner, dude."
He shrugged. "So? She can't hear me."
My gaze moved back to the stunning dark blonde in her Lone Star Heat tee and jean shorts, which was completely different from the modest black, calf-length dress I'd seen her in before. I wouldn't mind more than her lips on me now that Vargas put that thought in my head. I wanted to have her legs around my waist as I fucked her. I wanted to have her bedroom eyes look up at me as she sucked me off. I wanted to see the tiny mole she had on her right cheek up close and personal.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and put my earbuds back into my ears. It had been a few weeks since I'd last gotten laid, and it was clear to me that I needed to because of the thoughts racing through my head for the fucking owner of my team.
Growing up, I'd always wanted to be a pro baseball player. I couldn't wait to have thousands of people watch me play each night and make millions of dollars. But no one had told me that life in the minor leagues wasn't glamorous, and we only got paid a few hundred dollars a month to live on during the season. Nor did I expect to rent a two-bedroom apartment with three other teammates, have an ironing board as a coffee table, and have to steal WI-FI from the neighbors. I also didn't know that when we traveled, it would be on a bus that broke down more times than it didn't, we would stay in cheap motels, and we’d be given pennies for our daily meal allowance. On top of that, we shared rooms—of course.
After I unpacked, I grabbed my cell and started for the motel room door.
"Where are you going?" Vargas asked.
"Out," I replied.
"Out where?" he questioned.
"Why do you care?"
"Just wondering." He shrugged.
"Going to call my mom." It was the truth. I called her at least every other night but had to wait until close to eleven because she didn't get home from work until after nine West Coast time where I was from.
"Get me a Dr. Pepper, would ya?" he asked.
I stuck out my hand. "Give me the money for two, and I'll see if I can find you one."
He handed me three bucks, and then I left, walking out into the humid Oklahoma air—a climate quite different from where I grew up in San Francisco, but after two seasons with the Lone Star Heat, I was used to it. I was drafted at twenty-one from Arizona State and hoped to be in the Majors before I turned twenty-five.
I headed toward the pool. Just before hitting the button to call my mom, my steps faltered. Sitting alone with her feet in the glowing water was Austin Daniels.
Chapter Three
Austin
It was getting late, but I couldn't sleep, so I took a plastic cup filled with Moscato to the pool once the last person left and sat on the edge, my feet in the lukewarm water. I leaned back, my hands bracing me as I stared up into the onyx sky and spoke to my grandfath
er.
"So far, so good. The guys don't hate me. Or at least everyone has been nice with the transition." I took a sip of the semi-sweet white wine, still leaning back with one arm. "I wish I could have taken over from you retiring and not—you know. I have so many questions." Another sip. "Well, I guess that's not true. Over the years, I watched you and learned from you and saw the light in your eyes whenever you talked about the team. I just don't know when that light will shine in my eyes again."
The gate for the pool opened, and I stopped talking, looking over to see Hayden Wheeler, shortstop for the Lone Star Heat, walk through it.
"Sorry to interrupt you."
My face turned hot. Of course, he'd heard me talking. "No worries."
He walked to the vending machine, bought two sodas, and then started to leave before stopping and turning back toward me. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." I smiled up at him as the lie rolled off my tongue.
"Are you sure?"
My brow furrowed, and I continued to lie. "Yes."
To my surprise, Hayden slipped out of his shoes and sat next to me, dipping his feet in the water. "My grandpa died when I was sixteen. I can tell you're not okay."
"Well, of course, I'm sad."
"Want to talk about it?"
I stared into his eyes. The only light was coming from the pool so I couldn't tell the color. "About my grandfather dying?"
He shrugged. "Or, tell me some stories about Mr. Daniels. I always liked him."
"Are you serious?"
He popped the top on one of the Dr. Peppers he had. "Heck, yeah. Tell me about some good times you shared."
I drank the last of my wine and started to tell him about the first thing that came to mind. "In the offseason, he liked to hunt."
"No shit?" He grinned. Even though I knew who Hayden Wheeler was, I never realized how amazing his smile was. I didn't know much about him except he was our starting shortstop. A young, easy on the eyes, shortstop.
I swirled my feet in the water. "Yeah. When I was a kid, I used to go with him to this camp he had and help feed the cats that lived there."
His dark brow furrowed. "He had a camp for cats?"
"No." I snorted. "He and his buddies hunted ducks. The cats were like house cats or something."
"I had no idea he hunted."
I lifted a shoulder. "He lived and breathed Lone Star Heat, but duck season was how he relaxed and had fun."
"But why cats? Wouldn't they scare off the ducks?"
"From what he told me, they just showed up, and then they had babies. The camp was far enough away from where they hunted that I don't think the cats saw the ducks or anything."
"How many were there?"
"Like ten or so."
"Ten?" He took a sip of his Dr. Pepper.
"I'm actually not sure." I swished the water with my feet. "There was a lot."
"Are they still there?"
"Doubt it. I haven't been to the camp in twenty or so years."
"Maybe they got new cats?"
"Maybe."
"Do you have any cats?" Hayden asked.
"No, you?"
He shook his head. "I live in a two-bedroom apartment with three other dudes. I can't imagine having a pet too."
"You have to share a room?"
"Yep. You should know we don't get paid big bucks."
"Ouch." I snorted.
He chuckled. "I know it's not your fault or your grandfather's. It's the standard, but growing up, you think you're going to be a star athlete rolling in the dough. You don't realize that it takes time to get there, and we just don't turn pro overnight once we're drafted."
"Yeah, but once you move up to the big leagues, it will all be worth it, right?"
"For sure." We were silent for a few moments. "I'm Hayden, by the way."
I snickered. "I know."
He grinned. "Just making sure."
"I know everyone on the team."
"Really?"
"I've been working for my grandfather since I was sixteen and I know almost everything."
"But don’t you also do the marketing or something?" He took a sip of his soda.
I wasn't surprised that he knew that. My marketing team and I worked with the players for promotional items before the season started, and we were in contact with some of the coaches and players. Somehow I'd never met Hayden until now. "Still do."
"You're going to do that and be the owner?"
"For now."
"Seems like a lot on your plate."
I lifted a shoulder and swirled my legs in the water. "It's what I have to do."
"You're the owner. Hire someone to take your place."
"I probably will eventually, but I love my job. It's what I went to college for."
He nodded and took a sip of his soda and then handed me the other can. "I can't help with the job situation, but want this Dr. Pepper?"
I took it. "I'd rather have more wine."
"I can take an Uber and go buy you some."
"Thank you, but that's okay." I smiled and popped the top of the soda. "And thank you for listening."
"You've only told me one thing about your grandpa. Want to tell me more?"
I took a sip of the soda. "I would, but it's getting late, and you have a game tomorrow."
"Right." He grinned. "Can't let the new owner see me tired on the field." He stood and held out his hand to help me up. I took it and stood, the water from our legs, creating a puddle on the cement.
"It's the coaches you need to worry about."
"True, but I want to impress the owner too."
I blinked, a slow grin spreading on my face. "Are you flirting with me?"
He feigned innocence. "Who, me?"
We started for the gate, and I took another sip of the soda. "You know I'm like ten years older than you, right?"
"Does that matter?" He opened the gate, and we headed in the direction of my room.
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it doesn't matter that you're the owner of the team now, and I don't care about your age."
"It doesn't matter technically, but what would people think?"
"Do people need to know?"
I started to open my mouth to argue but stopped. Just because Hayden played for my team, didn't mean anything because he was paid by and played under the auspices of the Major League Baseball Players Association. We stopped at my room. "I just don't think it would be a good idea."
"Okay." He smiled. "But, know that if you need to talk some more, I can lend an ear again."
I smiled back. "Thank you."
He leaned in, and I balked slightly, thinking he was going to kiss me on the lips. Instead, he kissed my cheek. "Have a good night, Miss Daniels."
"You too, Hayden."
He left, and I went into my room. After locking the door, I leaned against it, thinking about Hayden Wheeler's smile and his warm lips that I could still feel pressed against my cheek.
Chapter Four
Hayden
"Where's my Dr. Pepper?" Vargas questioned as soon as I walked through the door of our room. I was thinking about Austin on the way back and how I wished I could have kissed her on the lips and not her cheek. I didn't care that she was older than me or that she was the owner of Lone Star Heat. She was smokin', and I enjoyed talking to her. I loved being the one to make her smile again too.
"I forgot," I lied.
"Well, go back."
The problem was that I didn't have small bills to use in the vending machine. I had used the money he'd given me for the two sodas, so I only had twenties on me. I reached in the pockets of my shorts, pulling out my phone and nothing else. "I don't have the three bucks. I think I dropped them."
"Are you serious?"
"Sorry, dude. Do you have change for a twenty?"
"Yeah, whatever." He opened his wallet and counted out the money, and I handed him a twenty. "Go there and straight back."
I
rolled my hazel eyes. "You could always go yourself."
"I would have, but you were going out to call your mommy."
Shit, I'd forgotten to call her. I left the room again, this time calling my mother on the way back to the pool.
I woke the next morning hard as a fucking rock. I jumped into the shower and took care of business while I thought about the blonde bombshell that was Austin Daniels. While the team and I ate the continental breakfast the motel offered, I kept looking for Austin to walk in.
She never did.
After we ate, we grabbed our gear and headed for the bus to go to the field. Once again, I was looking at every person who entered to see if it was her. Finally, with a Starbucks coffee in hand, she got on the bus.
"What are you smiling about?" Vargas asked.
I stopped staring at the back of Austin's head and looked at Vargas next to me. "What? Nothing."
"You're grinning like you got laid or something."
"Can't a man just be happy?"
He shrugged. "I suppose."
I felt as though I needed to give him more, or he would continue to question me. "I'm just thinking about us winning tonight’s game and how many homers I'm going to hit, is all."
"We win most of them."
"I know." That was true. We had a pretty sick team. "Want to bet who can hit more over the fence?"
"Fuck, yeah."
"Twenty for whoever hits more?"
"Deal." We shook.
"Listen up!" Coach Roach stood and faced us. "I just got an alert. The area is under a tornado watch. For those of you who are new this season or have never been around for tornado watches or warnings, it just means that storms are brewing, and we might have to take cover at any time."
LOVE IN LOCKDOWN: A Charity Anthology Page 25