Baseball and Other Lessons (Devil's Ranch Book 2)

by Aubrey Gross

  No one has seen or heard from Roberts since that final hand wave as he was rolled off the field.

  Until this past weekend.

  Yesterday a video surfaced of Roberts dancing with a woman in a bar. A woman named Heather Smith claims the woman is her, but court records show Roberts has had a restraining order against Smith for nine years. So who is the mystery woman, and why is the Wranglers’ injured number one hurler dancing in a bar when he should be healing?

  “The video that went viral on Saturday is not a current video, but rather one taken several months ago prior to Matt’s injury,” said Darrin Mann, Roberts’ agent and business partner in a media statement. “Matt is currently focusing on healing his body so he can get back out on the mound and help lead the Wranglers to a World Series championship.”

  When asked for comment, Wranglers’ Manager Toby Prince said he’d been in touch with Roberts and he was “resting comfortably” at his Dallas condo. Wranglers’ General Manager Reed Thornhill could not be reached for comment at press time.

  Despite Mann and Prince’s comments, though, the mystery remains—where is Roberts and is he taking his injury seriously? An online search of the username associated with the YouTube video found that the owner of the account lives in Del Rio, TX, which is Roberts’ hometown.

  Many injured athletes—especially those on the DL for an undetermined amount of time—often return to their homes to recuperate and to enjoy a certain amount of privacy while doing so.

  This could be an old video, or it could be a new one and Roberts and the Wranglers are simply trying to spin this in order to keep fan confidence high. Whatever it may be, we here at ESPN hope one of baseball’s brightest stars is not jeopardizing his future and more importantly his health for the sake of a pretty woman.

  Well, that certainly didn’t sound too promising, but at least the ESPN writer had included part of Darrin’s statement in his article.

  With a sigh, Jenn clicked on the link in the Bleacher Report tweet and loaded what she was sure would be yet another scintillating article speculating on Matt’s whereabouts and post-injury behavior.

  The Texas Wranglers have a problem on their hands. No, not the fact that they’re in a very tough division in a tight pennant race but the fact that their ace Matt Roberts was recently videoed partying in his hometown of Del Rio, Texas rather than rehabbing in Dallas like the team claims.

  Roberts' agent and business partner, Darrin Mann, released a statement earlier today claiming the video is an old one, taken earlier this year rather than recently. We reached out to several sources who refuted Mann’s comments and have informed us that the video is in fact recent.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s in here all the time,” said one source who wished to remain anonymous. “I’ve seen him dancing with several women and have seen him leave with women, too. Sometimes more than one.”

  Jenn rolled her eyes. She would bet hard-earned money that this supposed anonymous source was either Heather or one of the numerous jersey chasers who’d unsuccessfully tried to pick him up over the past few weeks.

  While speculation about Roberts’ activities runs rampant, another source has identified the mystery woman in the video as seventh-grade teacher Jennifer McDonnell.

  “That’s my seventh grade English teacher, Ms. McDonnell,” said former student Lucas Oakenfeld. “She was really cool, for a teacher. I think she’s best friends with Matt’s brother or something.”

  McDonnell is indeed friends with the Wranglers’ ace’s brother, Chase Roberts. The younger Roberts was the closer for the Texas Longhorns during their decade-ago dominance of collegiate baseball that included two College World Series Championships and seven College World Series appearances in a ten-year span. Sources tell us that McDonnell is a long-time family friend.

  “Oh, she and those Roberts boys have been friends for ages,” said Betty Harris, a family friend. “They’ve known each other since they were children, which is probably why they were dancing together.”

  Jenn snorted. Family friend her ass. Betty Harris was a gossiping old biddy who probably had a pair of binoculars trained on the entire neighborhood at all times.

  As for what Roberts was doing in a bar just a month after a horrific injury is anyone’s guess. All that is known is that the Wranglers have a problem and need to get it fixed before the pennant race begins in earnest.

  Oh, for the love of all things chocolate, Matt was not a problem the Wranglers needed to worry about. It appeared, though, that she did have a problem on her hands—her name was now out there in the media, and it wouldn’t take long before other outlets picked it up and showed up at her doorstep.

  Fantastic.

  She picked up her phone—thankful she and Matt had actually exchanged phone numbers this morning—and texted a certain too-sexy pitcher.

  Jenn: Did you see the Bleacher Report article that just hit Twitter?

  Matt: No. I think I’m taking a Twitter break.

  Jenn: Bad timing for that.

  Matt: Why? What’s up?

  Jenn: Just go read it. Please?

  She waited a few minutes for Matt to respond.

  Matt: Fuck me. I am so sorry. I don’t know how they got your name.

  Jenn: It was bound to happen sooner or later.

  Matt: Calling you.

  Jenn’s phone rang seconds later, Matt’s name popping up on the screen. “Seriously, don’t stress yourself out about it. This was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  “It shouldn’t have happened, though.” She could almost feel Matt’s anger through her phone.

  “Matt, it’s okay. I’ve always known this was a possibility considering I’m so close to Chase. I’ve been through this media mess with him before, too. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

  Matt sighed. “I know it’s not. I just hate that you got dragged into this and now people are going to be hounding you and speculating.”

  “Frankly, I’m more ticked about the fact that people are even considering your loyalty to the Wranglers and your dedication to rehab.”

  “I haven’t even gotten to start rehabbing yet.”

  She waved a hand in the air, despite the fact that he couldn’t see it. “Whatever. You know what I meant. You’re taking this injury seriously, and for anyone to doubt that pisses me off. It’s killing you to not be playing, and you certainly haven’t been out partying or ‘living it up’.”

  He chuckled. “I kind of love the fact that you’re defending me now.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Well, that’s what friends do.”

  “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I think so.”

  “What if I told you I think we should be more than friends?” Jenn was glad she was sitting down considering how weak his low, husky voice made her knees.

  “I’d say you were crazy.”

  “That’s not what your body said this morning.”

  “Yeah, well, my body’s a whore.”

  Matt laughed. “You did not just call your body a whore.”

  “Sure I did. I mean, come on, it has a mind of its own. I sure as hell didn’t give it permission to do what it did this morning.”

  “Now I know you’re lying. You enjoyed every minute of what happened this morning.”

  She resisted the urge to bang her head against the desk.

  “I’m pushing too hard, aren’t I?” The quiet concern in his voice nearly made her melt.

  Nearly.

  She stared at her computer screen, not really seeing it, and slowly said, “Yes and no. I can’t lie to you and say I’m not attracted to you, but us being more than friends? That’s just crazy talk, Matt.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “No, I really don’t. Spell it out for me.”

  She sighed. “You’re you and I’m me, for one. For another, it would just be a really bad idea.”

  Epically bad, even.

  “What d
oes that even mean? I’m Matt and you’re Jenn. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We slept together ten years ago, I reacted badly and hurt you. Now we’re actually somewhat friends. I like you. You like me. End of story.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “God, you’re stubborn.”

  “I prefer determined.”

  “Semantics.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll stop pushing. For now.”

  A part of her was relieved. The other part kind of wanted him to keep pushing her. How messed up was that?

  “Anyway, back to the original subject. I’ll call Darrin and let him know about the Bleacher Report article. If anyone shows up at your house let me know, please?”

  “Okay.”

  “And Jenn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I still think we should be more than friends.”

  #

  Matt ended the call before Jenn could respond, his grin quickly dying. He was telling the truth—he really did think they should be more than friends—but more than that he was worried about Jenn.

  He knew better than anyone how the media beast could chew you up and spit you out without so much as a “thank you.” The media was ruthless, especially in today’s social media-driven twenty-four hour news cycle. Now that one major sporting news outlet had gotten a hold of Jenn’s name it was only a matter of time before they all did and reporters started camping out in her front yard.

  He texted Darrin, knowing it was late and not wanting to disturb him with a phone call.

  Matt: We have a problem.

  Darrin: The Bleacher Report article?

  Matt: Yes. How’d you know?

  Darrin: As soon as I saw Jenn’s name I knew we were in trouble. I’m guessing Jenn and San Antonio girl are one and the same?

  Matt: Yes.

  Darrin: She’s your brother’s best friend.

  Matt: How the hell do you even know that?

  Darrin: It’s called putting two and two together.

  Matt: You’ve never even met her.

  Darrin: Nope. But I know you and Chase, and Chase has mentioned Jenn several times. Not too difficult.

  Matt: Anyway. I don’t want this causing problems for her.

  Darrin: Should have thought about that before dancing with her in a bar.

  Matt: Fuck off.

  Darrin: Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m on it.

  Matt: Good. I don’t want people hounding her or this affecting her job.

  Darrin: What about your job?

  Matt: I’ll get that worked out. Right now I’m worried about Jenn.

  Darrin: You’ve got it bad. Okay. Like I said, I’m on it.

  Matt: Thanks, D. And I don’t have it bad.

  Darrin: Yes, you do.

  Matt tried to figure out a response and couldn’t because, dammit, he did have it bad. He sighed as he noted the time. Eleven thirteen. Tired and weary he set his phone on the nightstand before walking into the adjoining bathroom and taking a long, cold shower.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Mom, you cannot be serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  Jenn groaned. And here she’d been having a pretty good Friday. “You’re really going to be on that Doomsday Preppers show?”

  “Yes! Isn’t it exciting?”

  About as exciting as a pap smear. “Not really. But to each their own.”

  “You’re such a buzzkill. This will be great. I can’t wait to find out what our score is.”

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus, save me now. “I have no idea what that means, Mom. But I’m happy you’re happy. Anyway, I need to get back to work on these lesson plans. In-service starts soon.”

  “Have fun, dear. I’ll let you know when they’re going to be out taping in case you want to be here, too.”

  Not a snowball’s chance in hell. “Sounds great, Mom. Love you. Bye.”

  Jenn ended the call and collapsed onto her couch. Her parents were going to drive her crazy.

  Going to? They already had.

  This was ridiculous. She didn’t get the whole serious prepper thing. Sure, there was nothing wrong with having some extra food and water on-hand, or having a first-aid kit and knowing how to use it, or even thinking about what you would do in the event of a wildfire or tornado or something. Her parents, however, were taking it way beyond the extreme. If Pluto was extreme, her parents were like fifty galaxies away from that, in places scientists hadn’t even discovered yet.

  They were that extreme.

  A headache began pulsing behind her eyes. She’d been on pins and needles since her name had been linked to Matt’s Sunday night. Having him come over all week hadn’t helped matters. Sure, he was nice to look at and she could no longer lie to herself about enjoying his company. Hell, she’d been enjoying his company since he’d come back to town last month.

  Being around him so much, though, was wreaking havoc on her system. As soon as she caught a whiff of him it was like her body went on high alert and her ovaries started partying hard. Just his voice made her wet, and his casual touches literally made her weak in the knees.

  And okay, so his touches seemed casual but she knew what he was doing. He was seducing her one touch, one look, one baseball game at a time. Watching Wranglers games with him was both heaven and hell; on one hand she loved being able to pick his brain and get insights into the game she’d never had, on the other, the intensity with which he gave those insights seriously turned her on.

  Then there was his intelligence. Sure, she’d always known Matt was no dummy, and that night ten years ago had proven that even further. Since that night, though, he’d matured, become more comfortable in his own skin and more comfortable letting his intellect shine through. Yes, they talked a lot of baseball, but he’d surprised her by initiating conversations about books he’d recently read, current events and even one time engaging her in a heated debate on the best modern-retelling of one of Shakespeare’s plays (she’d said Romeo + Juliet, he’d said Sons of Anarchy).

  He hadn’t kissed her again, though. The not kissing was driving her nuts, but in all fairness she was the one who’d insisted on being “just friends.”

  She was beginning to think being “just friends” was for the birds.

  Her phone dinged, drawing her out of her own head.

  Jo: Apparently Chase and Owen are going up to the ranch for a couple of days. Girls’ night?

  Jenn: Sure. Miguel’s then drinks somewhere not public?

  She really didn’t want to court temptation by being out in public too much. So far she’d been lucky, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her privacy was further invaded.

  Jo: No problem. You wanna come over to Gran’s? We can figure out something from there.

  Jenn: Or we could just party with Gran. ;-) Be there in a few.

  Jenn got up from the couch and went into the bedroom to change out of her battered pair of denim shorts and tank top into a maxi dress and cute pair of sandals. She checked her hair in the bathroom mirror and deemed it presentable before heading into the living room where she grabbed her phone, purse and keys and left to go meet Jo.

  About an hour later, they found themselves seated at a corner table at Miguel’s.

  “Alright, so why don’t you want to have drinks somewhere public?” Jo asked without preamble. Leave it to Jo to just cut right to the chase.

  Jenn sighed and blew a curl out of her eyes, reluctant to tell Jo the real reason why. As far as she knew the article with her name in it hadn’t spread like wildfire, and if someone in her inner circle had read it they would have said something by now. “Because people are driving me freaking crazy.”

  “Like who?”

  Jenn dropped her head into her hands briefly before looking back up. “Everybody.”

  Jo lifted an eyebrow. “Everybody?”

  Jenn groaned. That, at least, was completely honest. “Okay, not everybody. Mostly my pa
rents and Matt.”

  That, however, was only partially honest.

  “What’s up with your parents?”

  Before Jenn could respond, their waiter arrived to take their drink order. They both asked for sweet tea. Jenn waited for the teenager to leave.

  “I think I taught him a few years ago. That makes me feel old.”

  Jo laughed. “Nuh uh. You’re not getting away with changing the subject.”

  Jenn rolled her eyes. “Fine. My parents are just…” Jenn’s hands fluttered in the air. “They’re crazy. Mom called me this morning to tell me they’d been contacted by that Doomsday Preppers show and they’re thinking about filming an episode. What would my principal think if he found out my family’s a bunch of nut job preppers?”

  “Wait.” Jo held up a hand. “They’re that far into it?”

  Jenn nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s gotten steadily worse over the past year. They’re at the point where they have weekly drills and play renegade soldier.”

  Their waiter returned, set their teas down and took their order. Neither of them bothered to look at the menu—Jenn wanted enchiladas, and she was pretty sure Jo would order the same thing. As soon as the teenager was gone, Jo asked, “Weekly drills?”

  Jenn groaned. “Yes. They get out their guns, dress up in desert camo and act as if their compound is under siege.”

  “Compound as in Branch Dividian or compound as in Kennedy?”

  “Compound as in off the grid shipping container fortress. They have a landline and satellite cable and internet. That’s it.”

  “Wow. I didn’t realize they’d gone that far off the deep end.”

  “Yeah. It’s ridiculous. Mom keeps ordering emergency food kits and other survival stuff and sending them to my house. I’ve just been stashing it all in the spare bedroom, figuring I’ll ship them to Mom and Dad eventually, or use them as a science experiment or something. Matt happened to be there one day for the latest shipment, and it was embarrassing to say the least.”

  “Wait. Matt knows your family’s a bunch of preppers? What was Matt doing at your place? I thought you guys hated each other.”

  Before Jenn could concoct an answer, their waiter returned with their food. Instead of answering Jo’s question once he left, Jenn dove into her enchiladas.