The Quarterback's Love Child (A Secret Baby Sports Romance Book 1)

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The Quarterback's Love Child (A Secret Baby Sports Romance Book 1) Page 8

by Stephanie Brother


  I couldn’t.

  I just had to leave.

  I wound down the window and felt the heat rush through my hair and I didn’t care as I inhaled for the first thing in my life, freedom.

  Epilogue

  Michelle

  It was time for me to get my son back. I had lost him through my own selfish needs. I thought that by protecting him, he would never know the truth. The one player that he mentioned as his inspiration, the one that he had talked about, was really his dad.

  I hated him.

  I hated my parents.

  I hated men.

  They were my downfall and I promised never again would I let them take advantage of me. I would use them the same way that they had always used me. Carl had promised that as soon as he graduated, he would come back for me and we would be married. I had held onto that for so many years. When I lived in the shelter and got my first job, I was thinking that all of it was temporary. One day he would look for us and I would be rescued from this nightmare of a life.

  He never did.

  They were empty promises, the same ones that Isaac used to tell me until he got me pregnant. I had been a fool twice, once for being naive and the other in love. I vowed never to do that again. I had suffered a lot as a child.

  I kept tabs on my small town through the media, a thing that I was never allowed to do as a child. I saw that my mom died and the temptation to go to her funeral was never there. She had allowed my dad to torture me from an early age, just because he was a priest. Nothing more and nothing less. I disassociated myself from her. It was as if I was reading about someone else. Someone that I used to see every day, not my own flesh and blood.

  I’d never been so nervous before in my life. I sat and watched the morning commuters on their way to work, wondering why I had never had a simple life. They probably went to college like Noah had done, just like his father had done, and studied and worked. Some of them were couples who kissed as they walked in opposite directions, discussing meeting later on and their plans for the evening.

  No man had ever loved me.

  They had taken what they wanted from me and destroyed me.

  Noah, my second child wasn’t like that and my eyes flashed the painful memories of my childhood and my resurrection as I started my new life at the women’s shelter. I thought that he would understand why I was the way that I was and perhaps forgive me for trying to destroy his relationship with Ava.

  At least I could tell him something about his dad, which was more than I could offer Mia. That was an even more of a painful story.

  When I saw that Carl had achieved his dream and he had been selected by one of the top teams during Draft Day, I expected him to come looking for me, have a search party set-up in order to find his true love.

  It was the complete opposite. He was filmed at the stadium with his dad and a girl. They sat there and then I saw the title Carl Owen and his fiancée; he was selected to play pro for his team. The one that he had wanted to play for since he was a little boy. Everything that he had ever wanted had come true.

  I was brought out of my nightmare by a voice behind me, “Mom, you’re here.”

  I nodded, I had said on the phone that I was coming. He was as polite as he had been as a child. Nothing changed as he smiled, “You look well.”

  I didn’t. I was stressed, working in the shelter that he was brought up in, paying back to them the life that they had given both my children.

  “I don’t, I’m tired.”

  He sat down nervously as I promptly stood and said, “Do you want a coffee?”

  He nodded, “Black”

  And I said, “No sugar.”

  Even if I had tried to ruin his relationship with Ava. They were together and happily married with two children. A life that I had dreamed of, but sometimes, every so often I wondered if it was because my dad had never cleansed my sins. I pushed it to the side of my head and thought that no, what he did to me was wrong. I should never think otherwise, but at times I thought about what I did to Ava’s dad, the one man that may have truly loved me, and I regretted my actions in the past.

  But time can’t change. All I could do was tell Noah the truth and hope that he would forgive me. I opened my mouth to speak, wondering if this was a good idea.

  “So?”

  He rose an eyebrow as he burnt his tongue on the coffee and quickly put it down.

  “Are you going to tell me the truth?”

  I nodded, I was going to tell him the truth, the one about the mistakes that I had made and the reasons that I had made them. Then, after all that he could hate me even more then he did now, or he could love me as he had done once before.

  ***

  “Wow!”

  He said as he tried to digest everything in. At first we kept being interrupted by Ava, who had it in her head that I was meeting him as some kind of trap. Even if I did want to break them up, I couldn’t, not any more. Besides working in the shelter had taught me that letting history repeat itself was a bad way to live your life. Especially when it came to children.

  He was shaking when he said, “Now, I know why you kept it from me. Us. Mia? Her dad, Isaac, what happened to him?”

  “We’ll leave that for another time. When Mia’s ready to talk to me, then I’ll sit down with her as I did with you and we will talk.”

  He nodded, still trying to get it through his head. He brushed his hand through his hair as he laughed, “Carl Owen is my dad. Are you sure?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t even know that you exist.”

  “Wow!”

  He was speechless, as I would have been if someone had just sat down and told me my whole life history, one that had been hidden from me for so many years.

  “He’s not married. He doesn’t even have any kids. So, why did you never get in touch with him?”

  “I never followed him, but he must be retired now?”

  “Yes, he got engaged or something a couple of times, but it never worked out. I remember that there was a rumor that he could have been gay. But, now I think I know why he never married.”

  I didn’t see what that had to do with anything. I’d just come to tell him my story, but as he stared out of the window, I could tell that there was something else on his mind.

  “That doesn’t excuse what you did.”

  I nodded, “I know.”

  “Ava could have had an abortion or something, because of your behavior. You’re my mom and I love you.”

  He whispered as he came so close to me, “But being tortured, why weren't you the opposite? More accepting and vulnerable to the situation? Instead you were more like your dad. Mean. Selfish. Closed-minded.”

  I rested back on my chair, I wanted to kiss him and tell him that no matter what I loved him and the sacrifices that I made were all done in the name of love. But the more I tried to think of the words to say, the more I reached the realization that Noah was right. There were no excuses. No reasons for my behavior and I could apologize a thousand times; at the time it had felt like the right thing to do. Looking back, everything about it was wrong.

  “Sorry.”

  I cried, but not to get sympathy, but because I had made so many mistakes and voicing them, hearing them out loud made me realize that.

  He stood up, “Let’s go.”

  I sat and grabbed my purse thinking that I needed to head back to the shelter. There was a woman that was coming in today, her husband was abusing her and she was a complicated case. One that I had said I would personally deal with.

  “Because you need to come home with me. I’ll talk to Ava later. You’ll meet my kids and then I’ll talk to Carl. I should be able to reach him one way or another.”

  I started to panic. The idea of coming face-to-face with Carl was a completely different matter. “Mom?”

  I nodded, because I could see fire in Noah’s eyes. I knew that if I didn’t, he would be out of my life again for good and I couldn’t do that to him. I had to call the shelter
and get someone else to take my case. I would deal with it tomorrow.

  “I can’t.”

  He held me up and commanded, “Mom, you need to stop running away and face everything. Today was just the beginning.”

  I shouted back, “And the end!”

  He shook his head. “Not while I’m still breathing. I won’t let it be the end. This is the beginning and I’m going to talk to Carl and you’re coming with me. Then, we’ll sit down with Mia, because I want to hear that story too. Then, after all is said and done, we’ll go back to Stowe Peak.”

  I hated where this conversation was going, but I found myself with two options. Losing my son and daughter forever, or going back to the shelter and living a fake life, one that would involve not knowing the rest of my living family. I wanted to do that. I should have done that, but I found myself in this position.

  The one that Noah was putting me in. I sighed, “Okay.”

  He nodded and said, “Good. Tell whoever you need to, that you won’t be coming back for a while.”

  I was going to say something in protest, but he repeated it, “For a while.”

  Noah, as much as I hated to admit it, the way he spoke and acted was just like my dad. He had a way of saying things that no one could disagree with and I wondered if I saw this in him now because I hated my dad so much and wanted a way out.

  I got on the phone to the shelter and said that I wouldn’t be coming back. It was strange that Tiffany said that she thought that was the case and had already started to sort out my cases. I wondered how she knew, when I didn’t have a clue. It didn’t matter, because as soon as I got off the phone, Noah held my hand and led me out of the coffee shop, the one that I had been sitting in for the last few hours. He smiled at me and said, “Mom, everything’s going to be alright.”

  I nodded and said, “I hope so.”

  He laughed and said, “I know for sure.”

  ###The End###

  Disclaimer

  The school, location and team in this book are figments of my imagination and are not meant to resemble any existing team or school. This book takes place somewhere in Montana.

  The religious elements of the book are again, part of my imagination. They do not have any relation to any aspect of the Christian practices or beliefs.

  To be released in November…

  Carl’s story: The Quarterback’s Secret

  Noah said that he had something to say.

  I was impressed that someone as young as him would get in touch with me.

  There was something familiar about him and if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that we were twins.

  He had the same sparkling blue eyes.

  And dirty blond hair.

  I thought that he wanted a heads-up about game plans; from time to time the new quarterbacks got in touch with the old ones.

  They wanted tips on how to improve their game.

  How to score more touchdowns.

  But as he stood at my front door and I ushered him in, I knew straight away when I saw her standing behind him.

  Michelle.

  The one that left me.

  The one that I couldn’t find.

  Had come back.

  I looked at Noah again and knew.

  That not only was he a fan, but he had to have been my love child, too.

  ***Bonus Stepbrother Sports Romance Secret Baby Novella***

  The Midfielder’s Baby

  Giles loves to tease me, play with me and haunt me. Any other girl would just keep out of his way, and avoid the arrogant captain of the lacrosse team. I can’t, because he just happens to be my stepbrother.

  I wish he wasn’t, because I can’t get him of my mind.

  I want him in every single way.

  I have to tell him tonight, before he leaves for college, exactly how I feel. There’s just one problem: I’m not sure if he feels the same.

  But I’m about to find out, and it scares the living daylight out of me.

  Chapter 1

  “What the hell?!” I shouted as Giles whipped the beach towel away from my body. Since that towel was the only thing between me and public indecency, I made a lunge for it, but he was too quick.

  “Goddammit!” I screeched, as brakes squealed and horns blasted. Some guy yelled something disgusting out of his truck window as he whizzed by. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

  Thanks to Giles and his latest prank, my curvaceous, naked ass was, at that moment, mooning the Pacific Coast highway.

  “You’re a dead man!” I promised him.

  Giles laughed hysterically, and pointed at me as he remained out of my reach. I wanted to chase him down and beat the crap out of him, but I resisted the temptation. I needed to focus on covering myself up somehow. I need to stop giving all those honk-happy asshole commuters a free peep show of my plus-sized bottom.

  Giles’s vintage Woody station wagon was parked at least ten feet away, so at first I tried to just pull my wetsuit back up. But that didn’t go so well, and I had to stay butt-up and bent over to even attempt it. So, I did the only thing any girl would do in my situation would do, under the circumstances. I covered my tuft with one hand, and my rear end with the other, then bunny hopped all the way to the car.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Giles doubling over as he continued to roar with laughter. Man, was I going to get him for this!

  Flinging open the passenger door, I collapsed butt-first onto the seat, leaving my legs outside the door. Now that my round white buttocks were no longer a point of interest, all the honking stopped and the cars picked up speed. I bent down and finished the job of removing the full-body wetsuit from my legs and feet. Once I got it off, I tried to fish out my bikini bottoms. I’d put those on, then I wouldn’t be exposed anymore. But, somehow, my bikini bottoms managed to get hopelessly tangled up inside the neoprene and I couldn’t get them free.

  “Fuck!” I yelled in frustration. I couldn’t take it anymore. I hurled the whole mess onto sand-covered asphalt, and burst into tears.

  Leaning forward, I wrapped my arms around my knees and let all the anguish I’d been feeling for weeks, wash over me. My whole body shook. I couldn’t stop crying.

  Why did he hate me?

  Suddenly, Giles was there. Standing in front of the open door. He was no longer laughing. I covered myself with my hands.

  “Here,” he said, placing the towel over my nakedness.

  I was getting emotional for a different reason, but I couldn’t admit it.

  “I’m sorry, sis,” he said.

  My body convulsed. Sure, he was my stepbrother, but calling me sis made my feelings towards him seem bad. Almost like incest.

  “Here, put these on,” he said. He’d pulled something out of the back seat, and now he was holding out my dry sweatpants. I didn’t reach for them, so he pressed them into my hand.

  I couldn’t get dressed, I was frozen; moving seemed too difficult for me. I started to cry and shake again. He had no idea what I was going through. In just a few hours Giles would be leaving me, off to start his life in college. He’d be far away, too far. I felt as if he’d be gone forever. Meet new people. Forget about it. It would be as if I didn’t matter to him, because he wouldn’t miss me. He didn’t care.

  “I’m sorry, Cherise, I didn’t mean anything,” Giles continued. I could tell he was trying hard to convince me. But I knew he meant to be mean; he wasn't sorry. He just hadn't expected me to react the way I had. I’d always been able to take his practical jokes like a trooper because I knew it was only a matter of time before I got him back and took my revenge. We'd been playing this game for as long as we’d known each other, ever since he came into my life during my freshman year in high school. But he'd never been able to get to me before. Not like this. Not until today.

  He’d never seen me cry like this.

  “Please stop crying Cherise,” Giles pleaded. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you, honest, sis, I was just ha
ving a laugh.”

  The worst of my sadness faded as I started to believe him. Maybe he did feel bad about how much he'd upset me. If he only knew the real reasons I was sad. If he only knew how much I longed for him.

  "Please forgive me," he went on. "Please don't tell on me."

  So, that was his game. Sure, he might feel slightly bad about getting me so upset, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that that wasn't his primary concern.

  His real concern was whether or not I'd rat him out.

  His real concern was that he'd taken his little practical joking too far and might have to deal with some unpleasant consequences. He was only being nice to me because, if I stayed upset, I might violate the unspoken terms of our ongoing competition. I might tell our parents about his latest prank, and he’d end up getting grounded. He was only making an effort because he didn't want to get in trouble.

  I stared at him. An Adonis at the beach, with his broad muscular shoulders and his amazing abs, built up from being a midfielder on the lacrosse team. He’d nestled down in front of my open door and was trying to get me dressed. He was trying to pull my sweats up over my damp and sandy feet. I didn't help him, my body and soul still too upset to cooperate. He straightened my foot and stuck it through the hole in the scrunched up pant leg, and I shivered involuntarily as his fingers touched my skin.

  His head flew up and our eyes locked. Something passed between us at that moment, but I couldn't tell you what it was. Then he blinked and it was gone.

  I’d been imagining it.

  “I’ve got this,” I said suddenly, kicking his hand away. I bent forward to put on my sweatpants without his help, but made sure that the towel still covered my lap in the process. I was painfully aware of my naked sex, so close to my stepbrother; he’d need only pull the towel aside and ….

 

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