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Swing For The Fences (Bad Boys Redemption Book 2)

Page 21

by Kimberly Readnour


  Marissa’s face turns cold as she eyes me. “I see you’re still his little play toy.”

  “Now, see, you do remember me.” With that, I wheel Mel away and settle on a park bench twenty feet away. The tree provides enough shade, so we’ll be okay sitting here. Leesa comes bustling over.

  “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want to invite her, but her daughter is Luna’s best friend. She’s sort of bitchy.”

  “Marissa was that way back at Penn State. She doesn’t bother me.”

  “Believe me, none of the other mothers like her. They…tolerate her.”

  “It’s fine really. I’m going to play with Melanie on the swings.”

  “Okay. Please help yourself to anything off the snack table.”

  After I play with Melanie for a while, the party finally winds down. I’m feeding Mel a snack at the bench when a collective gasp cuts through the air. The clucking from the hens increases. They’re looking down at someone’s phone and then glancing over at me. I’m not sure I even want to know what that’s about. Marissa looks directly at me and smirks. Something is definitely wrong.

  Leesa grabs the cell phone and walks over to me with a pained expression. One that mimics a person who’s about to say they ran over my puppy.

  “You may want to see this.”

  When she hands me the phone, I glance at the screen and want to vomit. Taken as a selfie, the picture shows a naked woman leaning over a rock-hard torso. The curtain of blonde curls hides half his face, but there’s no denying it’s Jax. That angled jaw covered with dark stubble and toned muscle defining every ridge of his abs are features I’ve been ogling for the past few months. They’re not easily forgotten. The title on Diva’s Disses blog reads “Player Jax Carrigan, Secret Daddy?”

  “This can’t be right. These have to be old pictures.” I read the beginning of the article. The woman claims to have had wild sex with the famous shortstop, and she’s supposedly six weeks pregnant. Which, surprise, surprise, coincides with spring training. A few more scrolls down the article and another picture appears. One where he’s sound asleep, and she’s snuggled beside him. That isn’t the part that gets to me. In the right lower corner, just beyond her big platinum curls, is a drawing taped to the wall. My heart stops. Okay, not literally, but I swear I can hardly breathe. As I enlarge the screen, my entire world crashes around me. Because there on the web for everyone to see are two adult figures standing next to three smaller ones. The smaller ones are wearing Mouseketeer hats.

  Chapter Thirty

  JOCELYN

  Current Day

  There comes a point in time. A crack in the universe where nothing seems real, including my own actions. Numbness seizes my body to the point where I just exist. I go through the motions as if on autopilot. As I make the right turn onto my street, I have no recollection how I ended up in my car, driving with the kids. And my precious babies haven’t made a peep. It’s like they know or sense something is wrong. I stay in this haze until the black Mercedes parked in my driveway comes into view. The last person I want to talk to is Carl.

  “Are you happy now?” He doesn’t even let me get out of the car before assaulting me with his accusatory tone. “You are now the laughingstock of the internet.”

  Way to show your support, asshole.

  “The article doesn’t mention the kids or me.”

  “It may as well have because everyone knows you’re dating him. People at work. People at school. Everyone.”

  The car door closes, and the twins exchange a look. Christ, they’re too small to be worried like this.

  “Keep your voice down and watch what you say.” I turn to get Melanie out, and as soon as she’s in my arms, I walk toward the house. “Come on, kids. Let’s go inside. You can grab a snack and drink and play out back if you want.”

  Carl follows behind us. His permanent scowl must be the reason why the twins ignore him. Even Trenna hasn’t said a word. And of course, he hasn’t either. I have no idea why he’s so worried about what people are saying about my sex life. He should be worried about people calling him a shitty father.

  Once the kids go out to play and Melanie works on her building blocks, Carl finally speaks. “I think you had your fun, but you need to end the charade. Our kids don’t need to be exposed to this type of publicity.”

  “This just leaked today. I found out about it forty-five minutes ago. Think you can give me time to process it?” I hate, hate, to jump to conclusions which seems to be a recurring theme between Jax and me. “I don’t even know if it’s true.”

  His eyebrows shoot to the roof of his hairline. “You’d seriously believe him if he said it never happened?”

  “I don’t know, Carl, but I need to hear him out. If all you’re here for is to tell me how to live my life, then leave.” My hands shake as I walk into the kitchen. I grab a glass and stand in front of the sink. As I wait for the water to fill my cup, he steps behind me and places both hands upon my shoulders. My body tenses from his touch which causes him to exhale.

  “I’m sorry if I come across as trying to dictate your life. That was never my intention. We were happy once.” His dejected tone plays into my weakness, and the temptation to surrender any happiness for the sake of being a family again rides strong. I miss the family dynamic, the normalcy it brings. Although Carl isn’t the lead character in the scene. No, a rather complicated, hot mess of a man takes the realm, starring in my mind’s picture.

  “‘Happily ever afters’ are for fairy tales,” I finally say. “You were hardly Prince Charming.”

  “What do I have to do to win you back?” His hands clamp down, fingers squeezing into my flesh.

  “Carl, you’re hurting me.” I shimmy out of his touch and back away from him, but he stalks toward me. I keep stepping backward until my back hits the refrigerator. His hands reach above me and box me in. I wish I never sent the kids outside.

  “What do I have to do to convince you he’s not good for you?”

  I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s never been good for you. I’m the better choice. I’m the father of your children.”

  “Who cheated on me.”

  “One mistake.”

  “That you made over and over.”

  “Yet this guy makes the same mistakes, and you forgive him.”

  “Allegedly, Carl. I haven’t talked to him yet.”

  His face grows sinister, and he digs his finger into my chest. “If you don’t end things with him, I will take you back to court for custody.”

  He turns to leave. I rub my chest where the pain lingers. The tears—the ones that have threatened to spill over since the words Diva’s Disses came to sight—finally release. I slide against the stainless panels and sink to the ground. My kids are my life, and I can’t help but feel I failed them. I should have never gotten involved with Jax. Custody threats and scandals. Yeah, Mother-of-the-Year material right here.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  JAX

  Current Day

  I flip my gloves into the locker. It’s not like I had a terrible game. I did manage to get a single, but I didn’t drive in any runs. I don’t want to blame it on the episode from last night, but it certainly broke my concentration.

  I’m shrugging out of my shirt when a reporter comes to me.

  “Congratulations. When were you going to make the official announcement?”

  I rear back and glance at the reporter. “What are you talking about?”

  “The announcement about being a dad.” The reporter leans closer with hunger in her eyes. The kind they get when the gossip is juicy, and they have first dibs. “Were you wanting to keep it a secret?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “A Miss Katrina Cattrell came forward today in Diva’s Disses stating you are the father of her baby.”

  What the fuck is Diva’s Disses? “I can assure you if that woman is pregnant, I am not the father.”

  �
��Do you deny that you’re the person in this picture.”

  Ah, fuck. I maintain a straight face as I look straight into the reporter’s eyes. “I have nothing to say other than the fact I’m not the father of this woman’s baby.”

  The reporter turns back to the camera. “In an interesting twist, Jax Carrigan, shortstop for the Philadelphia Phillies, has denied paternity.”

  I turn to grab my phone and catch Zach lowering his. He looks at me, and his face tells me I’m too late. She already knows. Every single eye, including the camera’s, is watching me. I have to pretend none of this bothers me, but I want to kick the shit out of something, anything. I grab my phone and walk out until I find an empty room. Son of a bitch, our relationship can never go smoothly. I can’t believe this shit is happening to me.

  I chew my bottom lip while I wait for her to answer. Pick up. Of course, it goes straight to voicemail. Why am I not surprised? “Hey, it’s me. I wanted to reassure you it’s not what it looks…like. Please call me back. I’ll be back in my apartment in about an hour. I’ll call then. Please don’t read into this. I’d rather explain in person.” Shit. I don’t know how many times I’ve said that phrase to her. It’s not what it looks like. The one phrase she never wants to hear. I bang my hand against the wall before heading back to the locker room. A quick shower, and then I’m getting the fuck out of here.

  “What the hell were you thinking, sleeping with that woman?” The hushed tone of Zach’s voice pisses me off. As if he’d believe some crazy ass story.

  “I didn’t sleep with her, asshole. And thanks for the vote of confidence.” I check the parking lot for any signs of reporters or, God forbid, the paparazzi. The last thing I need making the papers is an argument with my best friend over this ordeal. I breathe out a sigh at the only person in sight—AJ jogging to catch up. I’m his ride home. The sooner he’s inside my truck, the sooner I can get the fuck home.

  “You didn’t.”

  “Hell, no. The bitch came home with AJ and sneaked into my room.”

  Zach runs a hand through his hair and stares at me. “Sorry. I should’ve known. But regardless of what happened, or what I think, Lacey told me Jocelyn’s really upset. Then something to do with Carl.”

  “That bitch posted pictures?”

  “And claims she’s pregnant.” They both stare at me, and I hold my hands up defensively. “She’s not. Or at least not by me.”

  “I knew we should’ve called the cops on her last night.” AJ punches the air as he rounds the truck.

  I pile into the driver’s seat, but Zach catches the door before I close it.

  “I don’t know what you plan on saying, but she knows it’s a current picture because you can see Trenna’s drawing.”

  “I plan on telling her the truth. Which I was going to do after the game anyway.”

  “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

  “Thanks.” My dry tone makes him wince, but he backs away. Go figure, Carl got to her first. What does he have, some notification alert on his phone? A post about Jax Carrigan…ping.

  The only thing that keeps me from breaking the sound barrier is the fact that AJ is in the cab with me. Although, if he apologizes one more time, I may put caution aside and not worry what happens to him.

  “You don’t have to keep apologizing. You had no idea that woman was bat-shit crazy.”

  “Yeah, but I fucked it up for you. I can talk to her if you need me to.”

  We finally park, and I pull out my phone as we make our way to the apartment. “It’ll be fine. She’ll listen to reason.” I hope. I’d drop him off and head straight to Brooklyn if it wasn’t for the fact we have a day game tomorrow.

  “I’ll grab a shower to give you privacy,” AJ says once we arrive at the apartment.

  “Thanks, I’m going to call her now.” I waste no time dialing her number. She answers on the first ring.

  “Hey.”

  “I did not sleep with that woman.”

  She releases a long breath of air. If any emotions could speak, sadness wins this battle. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Just hear me out. I’ll start at the beginning.”

  I tell Jocelyn how I’m more convinced the woman spiked my drink back in Florida. It makes sense now that the photos came to light. Then I tell her about AJ bringing her back to the apartment. By the time the story’s told, I’m so sure she’ll understand I’m not prepared for her next words.

  “I don’t want you to think I don’t believe you. But realize how crazy this woman is and the length she’s willing to go. She approached me in Florida, Jax. She actually got on a plane and flew down to Florida to be near you.”

  “I wish you had told me at the time. I would’ve confronted her at the restaurant.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish for a lot of things. Look, the first thing I need to do is think about my kids.”

  “What are you saying?” There’s a pause, and it nearly kills me. “Jocelyn. You’re not breaking up with me over a phone call. I’ll be there Thursday.”

  “I wasn’t going to break up with you, but I need time to sort things out. There’s more than me to think about.”

  “I understand that but don’t exclude me from your decision. Let’s discuss this. I’ll be there Thursday.”

  “Fine. I’ll take the day off.”

  We exchange goodbyes, and although she isn’t ending things totally, her words are less than encouraging.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  JOCELYN

  Current Day

  Organizational skills, a positive attitude, and a strong work ethic—attributes I excel in, yet they make no difference in holding down a job.

  Fired.

  From a bakery.

  And the culprit behind said firing? That’s simple. Having a scandalous relationship with a teammate from a division rivalry. At least, this is what I tell Lacey during our phone conversation, while I wait for Jax.

  “They fired you for that?” Lacey asked.

  “Yep.” Once the news broke, Jax’s personal life become the national spotlight, being broadcast on all sports channels. Not only his life but mine too. In less than twenty-four hours, I became the scorned lover, tossed aside like some abandoned dog. Shouldn’t they be reporting, say…sports scores and stats? Then, to make matters worse, a few paparazzi show up at poor Mama Kessler’s and overwhelm my boss to the point where he lets me go.

  “I can’t believe it. What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve been catering a few birthday parties, so maybe word will spread, but it’s okay. With school ending, I’d be paying more in sitter fees anyway. I’ll figure something out. I’m just pissed that Carl ended up being right.”

  “What do you mean? Jax didn’t actually cheat on you.”

  “No, but the scandal is still there. Tristan came home from school complaining about a girl telling him I was dumb and my boyfriend was a cheater. Showed him the picture and everything. So that was fun explaining why a half-dressed woman was in bed with Jax.” I draw my legs up on the couch and squeeze the throw pillow. I hate how this affects the kids.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Right! I did some fancy footwork to tap dance around the topic, let me tell ya. Carl’s biggest worry was people talking crap about us, and I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right.”

  “I’m sorry. That has to be rough. How’re the kids doing?”

  “They’re confused but good otherwise. I have my suspicions who the girl’s mother is, but it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t care less what she thinks.” It makes things embarrassing for me and a bit violent. I keep picturing me walking over to the birthday party tent and smacking that smug little smirk off Marissa’s silicone-enhanced face. “I can handle nosy mothers. It’s Carl’s threats that are harder to stomach.”

  “I don’t know why he has to be such an ass. You should have demanded higher alimony.”

  “Yeah, but I was so angry at the time I just w
anted to be divorced. I get a feeling him threatening custody is a ploy to get back together.”

  “You wouldn’t take him back, would you?” As her question hangs in the air, I contemplate what to say. When too much time elapses, she snaps, “Jocelyn!”

  “No, of course not. I’m just worried and need to look at things from all angles. I have to do what’s best for my kids.”

  “Where does that leave Jax?”

  I rub my palms on my knees and swallow the truth I don’t want to face. “I don’t know.”

  “This really sucks. He makes you happy.”

  “Yeah, I’m just soooo happy right now.” My sarcasm causes her to groan.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, but I think the universe is against me being happy.” The doorbell rings, awakening every nervous butterfly. “He’s here already.”

  “You’ve got this.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you later.” I get ready to disconnect but stop when my name falls from her lips.

  “Jocelyn, think of yourself and what you want for once.”

  “I’ll try.”

  I abandon the phone and run my fingers through my straight hair, smoothing any flyaways. I convince myself I’m ready and know what needs to be done. But when I open the door to a six-foot-two Herculean body dripping with yummy goodness, all that gets tossed to the wayside. Why does his cotton tee stretching across those broad shoulders and showcasing his trimmed waist have to be so delicious looking? He’s absolutely edible.

  “You’re earlier than expected.” I step aside and swing the door wider to allow him to pass.

  “I drove over last night.” He crosses the threshold but doesn’t go any farther than where I stand, and his scent—a mixture of sandalwood and cedar—consumes me. I can’t look anywhere but into those deep rich eyes. He places his hand on top of mine and gives the door a shove. So many questions swirl through my mind, but I don’t ask them, the pain and concern masking his face leaves me speechless.

 

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