The Perfect Pitch
Indianapolis Lightning Series Book 1
Samantha Lind
samanthalind.com
The Perfect Pitch
Indianapolis Lightning Series Book 1
Copyright Samantha Lind 2020
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.
Trademarked names appear throughout this novel. These names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intentional infringement of the trademark owner’s trademark(s).
The following story contains adult language and sexual situations and is intended for adult readers.
Cover Design by Jersey Girl Design
Cover image by FuriousFotog - Golden Czermak
Cover Model Chase Ketron
Editing by All About The Edits
Proofreading by Proof Before You Publish
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Derek
2. Jillian
3. Derek
4. Jillian
5. Derek
6. Jillian
7. Derek
8. Jillian
9. Derek
10. Jillian
11. Derek
12. Jillian
13. Derek
14. Jillian
15. Derek
16. Jillian
17. Derek
18. Jillian
19. Derek
20. Jillian
21. Derek
22. Jillian
23. Derek
24. Jillian
25. Derek
26. Jillian
27. Derek
28. Derek
Coming Soon
Also by Samantha Lind
Acknowledgments
About the Author
One
Derek
“Mr. Smyth,” the judge says, clearing her throat. “I’m going to be very candid with you for a moment. I understand your job puts you and your family in the public eye, and anything and everything you do is under their scrutiny. I also understand that you have control over your actions and how you handle yourself when in the public. Your children are of the age that they are impressionable. They worship you and want to be just like Dad. I urge you to take a good hard look at how things have spiraled out of control over the last few years and brought you to this point. I can tell that you still love your soon-to-be ex-wife and kids very much, and this might just be the wake-up call you need to realize what all you’ve lost.”
“Your Honor,” I state, clearing my own throat as the emotions of today hit me full force. The pain I’m feeling, sitting at this table across from a judge who is about to tell me how often I can see my two little girls. The two people in this world who mean the most to me. “I know I’ve fu- messed up,” I say, catching myself from dropping the f-bomb in court.
“I promise you”—I look her dead in the eyes, then turn to Jillian, who sits at the table next to mine with her lawyer by her side. I watch as she wipes tears from her cheeks and know I’ve royally fucked up— “and I promise you, Jillian, that I will do whatever it takes to win the three of you back. To prove that I can change. If that means retiring from the game, so be it. I don’t know how I let things spiral out of control to this point, but I will change. I will prove that I can once again be the man you met all those years ago and fell in love with.” I sit back and clear my throat. My attorney, James, pats my shoulder from the seat next to me as he gives me his support.
“Since all parties agreed beforehand on the custody arrangements, I don’t see any reason to change that. Child support and alimony will be granted to Mrs. Smyth and is to be paid monthly. If there are no objections from Mrs. Smyth or her attorneys, I’ll allow that to be handled directly between Mr. and Mrs. Smyth. If any objections, then we can have it paid through the courts.”
Jillian’s attorney bends her head toward my beautiful wife to talk with her, then says, “No objections, Your Honor.”
“Good, good.” She jots down some notes on her paperwork. “If no further matters need to be addressed, I’ll declare this case closed, and the divorce between Derek Smyth and Jillian Smyth finalized.”
“Nothing further, Your Honor,” both of our lawyers reply at the same time.
My head drops as the judge bangs her gavel. The finality of that sound and what it means for my future is deafening. How the hell did I allow my life to spiral to this? How did I let the best woman in the world slip through my fingers? How did I fail my girls so much?
“Are you all right?” James asks me a few minutes later. I look up at him as he stands and starts to collect the paperwork he had spread out in front of him during the hearing.
“No,” I tell him honestly.
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” I reply, knowing the only person who can fix this is me. I’m the only one who can prove to my now ex-wife that when I say something, I mean it and I’ll be there for all of them. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but dammit, I will. I can’t lose them for good. I already don’t get to see my girls very often with my busy travel schedule as it is. Living without them under the same roof will make it even worse. I look over at Jillian, and the sadness that fills her face tears at my heart. The one she still owns one hundred percent of. She discreetly wipes a tear away as she stands and slings the strap of her purse over her shoulder, then takes the few steps until she’s standing in the walkway between the two tables, stopping to look over at me.
“Goodbye, Derek,” she says, her voice cracking. We’ve spent the last ten years together, so I’m sure she’s not handling this well. “I’ll have the girls packed and ready to go for you to pick them up on Saturday morning. Just text me when you’re on your way.”
“Okay,” I tell her, knowing this is the first step I have to take to prove to her I’m going to change.
I watch as she walks out of the courtroom. The door shuts behind her and I sink back into the chair. “Let’s get out of here,” James says. “The next hearing starts in ten minutes.”
I stand and follow him from the courtroom. Once I’m in the hall, I look around to see if Jillian is still here, but I don’t see her anywhere. I don’t know why she’d stick around; it isn’t like this is a place either of us want to be.
Two
Jillian
“Mommy, Mommy!” my four-year-old, Addison, calls from my bedroom door. I roll over and look at the clock to find it’s one-minute past six.
“What, Addy?” I ask, patting the empty space next to me on my giant king-size bed. She hops up on the bed and burrows under the covers.
“I couldn’t fall back to sleep,” she tells me once settled in next to me. “I wanted to snuggle with you, Mommy.”
“You can always snuggle with me, baby girl.” I pull her closer to me, burying my nose in her mop of curls, and breathe in her little girl smell.
“When will Daddy be here?” she asks quietly, a few moments later.
“After breakfast.”
The ink has only been dried on our divorce paperwork for thr
ee days, but it was a long time coming, if I’m really being honest with myself. Derek let the fame of being a starting pitcher in the MLB get to his head and in the way of what should have been his priorities—our two daughters and me. I’m not trying to be a bitch and say I’m more important than his career, but he was always out doing stupid shit and getting himself into trouble.
When I first met him, freshman year of college for both of us, he was this laid-back, easygoing guy. He flirted and charmed me for months before I gave in to him and finally agreed to our first date. That was all it took for me to hand over my heart.
“I miss Daddy,” she states, the longing for him evident in her voice, and I bite back tears. As much as it killed me to file for divorce, I did it for my girls. I needed them to see they should be first in their future husbands’ lives, not second, third, fourth behind his career, or booze, or the spotlight. As much as I didn’t want to take Derek away from them the little amount of time he was home, I knew it had to be done.
So, a year ago, I filed for divorce. We agreed he would stay in the house until closer to things being finalized, and yet things didn’t really change. He still partied and did the shit I told him needed to change if he had any desire for us to stay together. I was done being second to everything else in his life.
The look on his face this past week when we went to court killed me. The look he gave me when he addressed the judge and me, gave me a fleeting spark of hope this was the kick in the pants he needed to get his shit together and realize he’s got more important things at home rather than going out and partying it up with his teammates all the time. I love his best friend, JJ, but the man is a horrible influence on Derek. I’d never tell him he can’t spend time with him, but it would be nice for both of them to grow up and act their ages.
“I know you do, Addy. But you’ll get to see him later today and spend the night with him at his new house. That sounds exciting, doesn’t it!?” I ask her, trying to make her excited about our situation.
“I guess so,” she says on a sigh, as only a four-year-old can.
“Help!” I hear another soft voice fill my room as my other daughter, Penelope, tries to climb up onto my bed. “Mommy, I needs help!” she states matter-of-factly in all her three-year-old sass. I roll over and reach down, grabbing Penny by the armpits to haul her up onto the bed.
“Scooch over,” I tell Addy, so I can move closer to the center of the bed. With one of my girls on each side of me, their heads resting on my shoulders, we snuggle in under the covers. I reach over to the nightstand for the remote control. “How about some cartoons?”
“Yes!” They both cheer as we wait for the TV to turn on and the channel guide to pop up. I scroll through the options, deciding on Disney Jr. for them. We settle in for the rest of the current show and another episode before I start to hear their tummies growling.
“How about some chocolate chip pancakes before Daddy picks you up?” I ask the girls.
Penny’s eyes light up. “With bacon?” A girl after my own heart.
“Sure, why not?” I tell her, sitting up and blowing a raspberry on her exposed belly, and she giggles.
We all head out into the living room, and I flip the TV on for them before I head to the kitchen where I pull out all the ingredients to make their favorite pancakes and bacon. Having been a stay-at-home mom since Addison was born, I’ve gotten used to making as much for them as I can from scratch. Top that off with Penny’s allergies, and it just makes things easier for me, knowing exactly what is going into her food.
Breakfast passes us by in a whirl of flour, chocolate chips, sprinkles, and syrup. By the time they’re finished, my kitchen is a mess, but so worth the time it will take me to clean it all up. My girls will only be little for so long, and I’m determined not to let this time in their lives pass me by.
“Go get dressed, Daddy will be here shortly,” I tell the girls once I have them cleaned up from breakfast.
“I’ve got your bags all ready for him, so all you have to worry about is what you want to wear today.”
They both are independent and have a mind of their own when it comes to getting dressed, so I just let them be. It isn’t worth the fight with two headstrong little girls. I learned early to pick my battles, and clothes is not one I choose to fight over yet. Now, when they’re older and I’m not the one picking out everything they wear, that might be a different story.
While the girls are in their rooms getting dressed, I get started on cleaning the kitchen. I hear my phone buzz against the counter. Picking it up, I see a text from Derek.
Derek: On my way, I’ll be there in ten minutes or so. Need a coffee or anything?
Jillian: See you then, girls are just getting dressed. They’ve had breakfast, so they should be ready to go until lunchtime. And thanks, but I’m good.
I set my phone down and go to double-check that their bags are by the front door. Having never done this whole “hand off my kids to my ex-husband” thing, I don’t know what to expect.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Addy and Penny come running and screaming through the halls when they hear the doorbell chime nearly ten minutes later, on the dot. It’s weird to know Derek is on the other side of the door, and I’m sure it’s weird for him to be standing out there, waiting for me to open the door for him. We bought this house shortly after he was acquired by the Lightning. We knew we wanted to have a family one day and as soon as I saw this house, I knew it was the one. When I asked for the divorce, it was one of the few things I requested to keep. I wanted to keep the girls in the only home they’ve ever known, and near their friends and preschool.
“Hello,” I greet Derek as I open the door, and he hands over a Starbucks cup before he drops down to the girls’ level and opens his arms up wide as they both jump onto him at the same time. He stands, holding them both up as he hugs them tight. It’s this man I miss the most. The family-oriented man who I fell in love with. The one I wish was still here on a daily basis.
“Hi,” he says finally, looking at me once he’s given each girl a kiss, then sets them down between the two of us.
“Are you all set up for them?” We haven’t talked much since he moved out last weekend. “And thank you for this,” I tell him, holding up the coffee he brought me.
“Mostly. I was going to take them to Target and let them pick out their own bed sets today, as well as some toys to keep at my place.” He lifts his baseball cap off his head and runs his fingers through his hair. Unlike a lot of professional pitchers who grow their hair out long, Derek has always kept his on the shorter side. “And you’re welcome. I hope it’s still your favorite,” he says sheepishly.
“I’m sure they’ll love that.” I look down at our daughters. “I picked up an extra set of EpiPens for Penny, for you to keep at your place. I figured that would be easier than making sure we transfer them back and forth. I also included a list of all her safe brands and brands to avoid for you. Don’t hesitate to call me if you aren’t sure.”
“Jill, I’ve got it. I know what our daughter can and can’t have,” he says sharply.
I smack my forehead. “Sorry, of course you do. I just worry about her,” I tell him honestly.
While I know Derek would never do anything purposely to put Penny in harm’s way, I just worry sometimes he isn’t as vigilant as I am with her. It only takes one slip-up and the next thing you know, she’s unable to breathe and requiring an ambulance and trip to the emergency room.
“What time do you think you’ll bring them home tomorrow night?” I see the girls are starting to get antsy standing between us, so I grab shoes for both of them and drop down to my knees to help them both get them on.
“I hadn’t really decided on a specific time. Would after dinner work? I can bring them back in jammies and ready for bed. Maybe stick around and help with bedtime. Or bring them back after dinner and do bath and jammies here, then help get them into bed?” he asks, and I can see the hope in his eyes.
“I’m sur
e they would love that. Either way is fine with me. Just give me a heads-up so I’m home when you’re ready to come over.”
“Got a hot date?” he asks, a smirk on his lips.
“Nope,” I tell him, popping the P. “Unless you consider my Netflix account and bottle of wine a hot date. But, I figured with the girls out of the house and with you, I should get as many of my errands out of the way as I can, and get grocery shopping for the week done. Normal weekend things that take twice as long when I have these two with me.”
I pulled both girls into a hug. “Be good for Daddy,” I tell them both, kissing them on the cheek before I let them go. “Here are their bags. Call me if you need anything.”
“We’ll be fine,” he says, giving me a pointed look, then turns to the girls. “Won’t we, girls?”
He bends down and sweeps both of them up into his arms. With both of their backpacks hanging off his forearms and a child in each arm, I watch from the doorway as my heart walks out of my house. I watch as he loads the girls into his truck, making sure to buckle each one in their seats, and I bite my lower lip to hold back the sob that threatens to escape my lips as he backs out of the driveway.
Once his truck is gone, I head back inside and close the door behind me. I slide down the door until my ass hits the ground and sob into my t-shirt until my tears run dry.
The Perfect Pitch (Indianapolis Lightning Book 1) Page 1