by Amy Field
Nate still had that effect on her.
It was late when Nate finally got up to leave. She accompanied him to the door, and he turned around to say goodbye.
“I hope I can see you again.”
Bonnie couldn’t stop herself. She leaned forward and kissed Nate on the mouth, lingering. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, and for the first time in months, Bonnie felt safe and secure.
“I missed you so much,” Nate whispered in her ear.
She leaned back and looked in his eyes. “I missed you too,” she whispered.
They stood in the doorway for more than a few minutes just savouring the moment.
When he finally walked away, he turned around once more and waved at her. At that moment, a thought flashed through Bonnie’s mind. She remembered Mr. Winston’s remark that Nate had been in the Secret Service. She also recalled Drake’s words that whoever had saved her and Dustin must’ve been a highly trained operative. He had told her that he hadn’t had a hand in saving them. Did that mean…?
“It was you,” she whispered as Nate’s car disappeared in the distance. “Thank you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nate called again the next day, and they agreed to meet for dinner.
Bonnie was nervous. She was going to play open cards, be honest and tell Nate she was pregnant. She didn’t know how he’d respond, especially when she told him she wasn’t sure who the father was.
When Nate turned up to fetch her, they kissed warmly. Bonnie was relieved that it felt exactly like the last time they’d met. Her emotions had been so up and down during the past few months, and she was still a little apprehensive. The venue was a quiet Italian restaurant with a romantic setting that was renowned for serving excellent gourmet dishes. The waiter led them to their table, and they sat down and caught up on each other’s lives for a while.
During a break in the conversation, Maria took a deep breath.
“I have to tell you something, Nate,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
Nate looked stunned, and Bonnie’s heart sank.
“Pregnant?” he echoed, and Bonnie could see his mind racing. He cocked his head to one side, half smiling. “Is it mine?”
Bonnie breathed out, now for the difficult part.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. It could be yours or it could be Dustin’s child. And in case you’re wondering, no, I’m not going to have a paternity test done. This is my child, and that is the only thing that matters. I don’t want to complicate things. Whoever becomes the man who brings up this child with me, he’ll be the best one for the job. I know that.”
She looked Nate in the eye, watching his reaction closely.
Nate mulled her words for a second or two. Then, much to her surprise, he fumbled in his pockets and brought out a small, black square box. He flipped it open, and inside was the most beautiful blue diamond ring, twinkling in the half-dark restaurant.
Bonnie looked at Nate, her eyes wide open.
“Is this a proposal, Nate?”
Nate looked serious, more serious than Bonnie had ever seen him.
“I bought this ring a while ago, for you, Bonnie. But as things developed, I realized the timing wasn’t right, so I put it away. But earlier I took it out again. Nothing that you’ve told me right now would make any difference. It makes no difference whether it’s my biological child or not. I want to raise this child with you, no matter what. It will be our child. So will you marry me?”
He’d hardly stopped talking when Bonnie answered, so loudly that some patrons stopped eating to look at the pair.
“Yes! I will!” she said, tears forming in her eyes.
They finished their meal and went home. Their new life together had started.
“I have to admit, it’s a nice ring,” Maria said begrudgingly.
Bonnie laughed, a lovely laugh that rang out throughout the busy café, and Maria had to smile. Bonnie had come to meet Maria for the first time after the wedding.
Maria had teared up when Bonnie told her the full story about how Nate proposed and how he had reacted to her telling him about the baby.
“I should write a book about my life,” Bonnie said. “Some sort of self-help book for people who are on the verge of losing faith. For people who think they can cover up their antics by lying.” She sighed deeply. “It was tough, but I made it.”
The pram shook as the baby inside began to cry.
“I never thought that you would end up married and with a baby, you career woman, you. Come on, show the baby to me,” Maria insisted. “Isn’t that why I came here?”
Bonnie laughed and raised little Justin from the crib, he was a beautiful child having Nate’s dark hair and sharp eyes. As she handed over her son to Maria, Maria gave her a look and Bonnie knew she had the best friend in the world.
Just then she felt a hand wrap around her shoulders.
“Hello, Maria,” Nate said smoothly.
“Mr. Woodrow,” Maria said. “I was just admiring your child.”
"Were you? He is beautiful, isn't he?" he said unabashedly.
Bonnie gave him a small slap, and Nate sat down, his hand in hers. Then he turned to Maria, pulling her into a conversation. Bonnie smiled again.
She could get used to this scene and then she threw herself with gusto in the conversation. She could move forward, Nate by her side.
The End
Book VI
The Basketball Baby
A Sports Secret Baby Romance
First Play
The enthusiastic cheers were deafening and reverberated in every corner of the brightly lit hall.
A blonde, ponytailed girl wearing a stylish suede jacket stood out in the grey mass of male journalists inside the media area. Tammy Forrester could barely hear her own thoughts over the booming cries and cheers of the crowd. She wanted to join them but she had to keep up appearances. With her hands clenched on her lap, her eyes followed the players’ every move, watching in anticipation as the ball moved from player to player. For a few seconds, a wall of tall bodies blocked her view, and she was tempted to jump up and peek over their heads. The sound of the roaring crowd was deafening, but it didn’t hide the fact that the ball just slammed against the backboard before is shot into the air. She was about to leap to her feet when one by one the row of fans flopped down in their seats. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath.
But instead the red digits on the electronic clock flashed 00:00. It was the end of the game and the score was, needless to say, disappointing. She felt this way every time the game ended differently to what she had hoped. This time however, she couldn’t believe that the trump team lost by two points.
“You got everything right?” Tammy asked Robert, her cameraman.
He rolled his gum from one cheek to the next as he adjusted his camera. “I got the game but we need an interview.”
Tammy narrowed her gaze in on the group of players sauntering off towards the locker room and raised a brow. She was more than willing to bet her paycheck on getting this interview. Despite the outcome of the game, her spirit was somehow lifted, and she was ready for any challenge.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get that interview,” she said, determinedly.
Robert’s brows shot up and he looked at her with a deadpan expression of sheer disbelief and she knew exactly what he was thinking.
She had always thought him to be handsome, but his looks were marred because he hardly ever smiled. He always whore the same style clothes, faded t-shirts that he got in last year’s Christmas stockings and faded stone-washed jeans. She had asked him about it once, and all he had said was that it was her job to look pretty, not his. His face was on the rounder side with chubby cheeks and when he smiled, occasionally, he looked like a friendly garden gnome.
“So you’re just going to waltz in there and insist on an interview?” he asked.
“That’s the plan,” she smirked.
“You’re kidding right?”
Sh
e rolled her eyes, although they made a good team, he had always been on the irritable side with her. He had a habit of countering every time she suggested something or answers her questions with an air of indifference. Other times he managed a 360 and attempted to flirt with her. She had entertained the thought of him being chauvinistic. But after a while, she realized he had a cantankerous personality, but over and above he was lazy. To him it was about doing the shoot and getting paid more than anything.
It had become clear, after only four months at Channel 6 that he had bounced from anchor to anchor until he had ended up with her. He was the talk of the town. She didn’t exactly feel special after she read up on it all, but she will hold off judgement. Sometimes a person just needed the right break.
She geared up, smoothed out her suit and dragged her fingers through her long dark hair. And then she took out a compact mirror and powdered her nose in an attempt to look a bit more presentable than an exasperated fan girl. She was lucky though, she never had much need for makeup thanks to her flawless skin, but a little lip color hurt no one. Her cheekbones were set high, and gave her an aristocratic look with slanted almond-shaped eyes, the color of garnet. She pouted her lips and snapped the compact closed. This was as good as it would get, she thought to herself and shoved it back into her purse.
With no further delay, she hurried down the stairs next to the stands and headed for the locker room. For a brief moment, her brave heart from earlier, threatened to fail her as it frantically drummed against her ribcage. She hadn’t quite thought up an excuse of what she would say once she got into the locker room. Or how she would manage to get in there in the first place, but she had to think on her feet. How would she manage to get inside?
There was always a security guard there, what if she got him distracted? And a plan formed in her mind.
“Distract him,” she said, turning to Robert.
“I am sorry?” he said.
“Distract the guard so I can slip inside.”
“Are you out of your mind? We need the footage!”
“Give me the camera, I’ll go talk to him.”
“You are serious about this?” Robert shook his head in disbelief.
“Fine, don’t mess this up.”
Tammy grinned and took the video camera from him. It was heavy, but she was strong enough to handle. This was unprecedented but somehow doing it felt exhilarating. They were already in sight of the locker room and she could see the security guard in front. She moved out of the way and watched Robert make his way to the guard. She waited breathless for a few moments until she saw the guard leave with Robert.
Success!
The moment she snuck into the locker rooms, the salty putrid smell of sweat choked her and she clamped her hand over her nose and mouth. She didn’t think it would smell this bad, but she wasn’t here to judge them on their body odor. She glanced around at the condition of their locker rooms. It was a typical man cave, untidy, with used towels hanging all over the place and clothes scattered on the benches. But she wasn’t here to do a story on their locker rooms or what they got up to behind the scenes. She was just here to get a scoop on the game, and hopefully, a few personal comments about the game from some of the players.
She raised the handheld camera and scanned the room through the lens. Her first shot gave her a nice close-up of a few prominent stars, but thankfully they hardly paid her attention. They were obviously too tired and preoccupied to even notice her. She filmed them quietly for a few brief moments and then turned off the camera and hooked the strap over her shoulder. This would be enough for the show and she didn’t want to exploit them too much. Instead, she took out her recorder and geared herself up to interview a few players.
Her attention zeroed in on Pat Johnson, the NBA heartbreaker and playboy. She fumbled with the recorder and raised it up. Standing this close to a basketball player she was nothing, but a glorified dwarf, but she held her own.
“Mr Johnson, how do you feel after such a close win?”
Pat Johnson glanced down at her with confusion etched on his face. He knew for a fact that reporters never got into the locker rooms,
“I have special permission to be here,” she reassured him. “So can you give us any comment on the close win?”
He raised a brow and flicked the towel over his shoulder, “I guess it’s a disappointment, but it’s just a speed hump. We’ll recover.”
“So you don’t think the addition of Marcus Delacroy as part of the Chicago Wings, have anything to do with them winning this game?”
He half-chuckled. “It’s not one man who wins a game, it’s a team. We played to the best of our abilities, but they were stronger.”
She tried to get another question in, but he turned around and walked to the showers.
An odd few of the players answered some of the questions but most of them didn’t even give her a second glance. And she was desperate for more substantial comments for the 10 ‘o'clock news. But all she was left with were the stragglers who didn’t want to give her the time of the day.
She refused to give up. This was her first real shot at becoming an accomplished journalist and if she would impress her bosses, she could not fail to deliver. Channel Six may be nothing but a stepping stone in her rise to fame, but it was the most important one. She spun around, determined to stalk into the showers when she collided with a solid wall of flesh, followed by a loud OOMPH!
Stumbling she tried to regain her balance when two strong hands gripped her upper arms and steadied her. She slowly raised her head and from the water clad chest with droplets that caressed her savior’s skin she sucked in a breath. This was all brawny male and dripping testosterone standing in front of her.
She dug deep for composure, stepped back and looked up at him, only to stare right up at Wade Conley. He was definitely the last person she expected to run into and the amused look in his eyes, and sideways smirk, spoke volumes. Everything about him was tainted. His bad boy reputation exceeded him. Every tabloid drank up his antics about his bad drinking habits and his unsated desire for supermodels. He was the favorite for gossipmongers.
She was momentarily speechless. Now she could see why so many women fanned over him. Being this up close and personal, he was flawless. She didn’t want to admit it to herself but his good looks had a hand in it. He easily towered over her 5 foot 4 frame and his broad shoulders weren’t helping in easing her tension. His eyes were an intense green with flecks of nutmeg and his face was handsome in a rough sort of way. It was as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. His out-of-bed hair was blonde with lighter streaks. It was hard describing his raw appeal but she could feel it radiating off of him. If she didn’t know better, he could quite easily charm her socks off.
Her common sense kicked her brain into gear and she cleared her throat nervously.
His lips flat lined the moment he looked down at her hand and she clutched the recorder in her fist.
“How did you get into the locker rooms?” he muttered with furrowed eyebrows.
She cursed inwardly. “Your team manager gave me a pass,” she lied and raised the recorder. “Given the close win today, how do you feel about the loss with only two points?”
He scratched his cheek and then dragged his fingers through his hair.
“We’ll make a comeback, we had a bad second half with a few handling mistakes, but nothing that will keep us from winning the championship.”
Tammy worried her bottom lip, these were all lame questions. Everyone had seen the outcome of the game why bother harping on that.
“On a personal note, I heard through the grapevine you were offered a spot at Chicago Eagles. Is this just gossip, or are you considering a real offer?”
Wade cocked a brow and rolled his shoulders. “Whatever you heard sweetheart, is news to me.”
“That isn’t the answer I am looking for,” Tammy said wittily.
“That’s the answer you will get from me so take it or leave it.”
“Rude? Well Darling, that’s how I roll, so unless you are interested in something else...”
At that, he stepped forward, pushing her back up against one of the lockers. She glances around for any sign of life, but they were alone and that unnerved her. When he reached to pull his shirt off over his head, she felt a twitch of something in her stomach.
“We could always take this interview to private quarters,” he said.
Tammy was shocked to see how much that appealed to her but she had her pride and she kept on glaring at him. The little flutter in her stomach were no butterflies, oh hell no, this was her jerk alarm vibrating at 6.9 on her inner Richter scale. With her defences back in place, she planted her hand against his bare chest and casually pushed him away from her. He had some nerve to think he could play the prince charming card on her.
“You aren’t the first guy to come onto me in a locker room,” she said icily. “And you sure will not be the last, so I suggest you let me do my job.”
“I am the best looking one,” he said cockily.
She was tempted to smile, but her irritation with herself rather than him prevented her. She would not stand there and let him make a fool of her.
“You could be Harrison Ford for all care. What I want is an interview, here and now.”
He huffed and looked at her, “I don’t do interviews, but entertaining women on the other hand…”
She snapped and glared at him. “Do you do this to every reporter who asks for an interview? Corner her in the locker room?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugged.
“You should change that attitude or it will earn you a painful kick in your nether region.”