Axel's Therapist: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Blitz Book 2)

by S. J. Bishop

  At least I knew I'd never have to worry about Taylor and her fat man again. The courts didn't take kindly to the idea of selling your child for drug money and shooting a pregnant woman. Taylor would be lucky if she ever saw the light of day again.

  "Cooper," Coach said, coming up to me and clapping me on the back. "I knew something was going on with you and Kaitlyn even though I told you not to go there." His voice was gruff and hard, but he was grinning from ear to ear. He looked like a proud father. "I'm glad that in this one instance you didn't listen to me. But don't ever do that again."

  I grinned back at him, feeling like a nervous fool with the whole team staring and waiting for things to start.

  "Can't you hurry her up?" I asked Coach. He just laughed. "Oh son, you've got a lot to learn about women."

  If Kaitlyn didn't get down here soon, I thought the butterflies in my stomach might just fly out. All over the front row of chairs if I wasn't careful. Finally, I saw my parents emerge from the back of the stadium. My dad took a seat in the front row, and my mother hurried over to me, putting her arm around my shoulders.

  "Everything's fine. Just a little trouble getting into the dress," she said.

  "Oh no. Did she fit? She was so worried about that." I hated to think that Kaitlyn wasn't happy on her wedding day. She'd spent days with my mom going over dresses that wouldn't make her look fat. They'd ordered the dress when she was only two months along, and it was hard to predict how big she would be at six months. I didn't care how big her belly got, only that she had everything she wanted.

  "It's fine. Kaitlyn's a tough girl. She told that dress who was boss, and with some fast stitching on my part, no one has to be the wiser."

  "Thanks, Mom," I said, hugging her.

  She hugged me back, whispering, "Don't blow this. Your father and I actually like this one."

  I grinned at her. "Don't worry. If I screw things up with Kaitlyn, I think Riley might be first in line to tackle me." My mother went to join my father, and finally, the music started.

  Riley was the first to emerge. She wore a pink dress with little white flowers sewn onto it that she had picked out herself. Her face glowed as she marched down the white carpet, throwing petals to the ground. Groomsmen and bridesmaids followed. Some of Kaitlyn's friends had flown in from Appledale to be in the ceremony. I knew she was sad that her father hadn't lived to see the day, but I hoped my surprise for her would help just a little. I'd set up a giant picture of her father as a tribute. It stood near the altar so that her father could watch over us.

  When Kaitlyn made her entrance, the guests rose. Coach was at her side to walk her down the aisle. My jaw dropped. Any butterflies left in my stomach evaporated. My nerves were forgotten. I'd been forbidden from seeing the wedding dress. Kaitlyn was surprisingly superstitious and said that after all we'd been through, the last thing we needed was to test our luck.

  As she approached the altar, I took in the yards of white silk and satin that dazzled under the sun. Flecks of sequins and gems shined so brightly it was almost blinding, yet no one wanted to look away. Her hair was twisted up, exposing the silky smooth nape of her neck.

  "You're gorgeous," I said when she finally reached me. Her eyes landed on the memorial picture of her father, and she teared up.

  "Did you do that?" she asked. I nodded. Her face radiated warmth and love. She blushed and took my hand. That familiar surge of electricity shot between us. I barely heard the reverend as he took us through our vows. I was too entranced with her beauty to do more than repeat what he said. When he finally declared us man and wife, I snapped out of my trance, turning to the crowd of guests.

  "Don't just stand there; kiss her, you fool!" Coach shouted, and the team cheered.

  Riley beamed up at us from behind my legs. "Kiss her, Daddy," she giggled, making a face. I'd learned long ago that it was always best to please the crowd.

  "I love you," Kaitlyn said as I leaned in toward her.

  "Love you back," I replied. As my lips gently brushed over hers, the energy between us surged once more.

  "Ooh!" she giggled, pulling away. "The baby kicked."

  She took my hand, placing it on her stomach. I smiled as I felt our child move inside her and wrapped my arm around her waist. I put my other arm around Riley, and together, we turned to our guests.

  "I'd like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," the reverend said.

  "The Cooper family," I corrected, and Kaitlyn beamed at my side.

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  HARD MAN

  SNEAK PREVIEW

  Prologue

  Lars

  I squinted my eyes against the darkness, searching for Big Nose Vincent and his men. Where were they? They were supposed to meet us in this crummy old warehouse at nine. It was already twenty after, and Big Nose was never late. His massive frame suddenly moved into view, and the nose he was known for stuck out like a lightbulb, even in the darkness.

  "Lars," he said, smiling a bit too widely. He walked toward me, his arms extended in a friendly gesture that rang false on his face. He stopped halfway across the room. Something wasn't right.

  "Vincent," I said, nodding. Beside me, I felt Tony and Ash stiffen. Ash hadn't wanted to come tonight. I'd had to talk him into it. But the money was good, and once we got the briefcase and got back to Angelo's, all would be right in the world again. Besides, it was an easy exchange. We give them the briefcase stashed to the brim with heroin, and they give us a briefcase stashed to the brim with money. Nothing could be simpler.

  Except that now that Vincent was here, something in the back of my head was screaming at me to get out, and I never doubted my senses when they screamed. You couldn't when you worked with the mob, but I also didn't want to make any mistakes. If I drew my gun too soon, all shit would break loose, and it would be my fault. So I waited.

  "Lars, let's get out of here, man," Ash whispered. "This is all wrong. Where are the rest of them?" Ash was right. All I could see were Big Nose and two of his men. Big Nose never traveled anywhere with less than a dozen hired guns. He was way too paranoid about taking a hit.

  "It's fine," I whispered back. "We can't just leave. Angelo would kill us."

  I could see Ash's dark brown eyes glint back at me with fear. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end.

  "Don't worry, I got this," I told Ash. I signaled to Tony who lifted the briefcase off the ground, tightening his hand around its handle until his knuckles turned white.

  "Maybe Ash is right," Tony said. "This job stinks." His eyes darted over my shoulder at Big Nose. I knew he wasn't talking about the musty, stale smell that permeated this decrepit warehouse we were standing in. I smelled it too. Lies. Trickery. These things all came with the job. Part of our job was knowing when to heed the internal warnings buzzing in our heads and when to let them go and get the job done anyway.

  Whatever the situation was, you had to ask yourself what was worse. You had to wei
gh the odds of getting hurt against the consequences of not finishing the job you were sent to do. It was a shit choice, and it was mine to make.

  "Give me the briefcase," I said. Tony handed it over, his large hands letting go reluctantly.

  "Make it quick."

  I nodded once and shot a glance to Ash. Dark circles seemed to be forming under his eyes as I watched him. His skin was too pale for a man in his twenties. I felt like a shithead for bringing him along. He'd been talking for weeks about wanting to get out of this life, away from the mob and from Angelo. But Ash was like a brother to me, and I was reluctant to let him go. He gave me a quick nod to let me know he was okay, even though I knew better.

  Just get going and get out.

  I took a breath and met Big Nose at the center of the room. He was seven years older than me, and his skin was already wrinkled. I don't know what the man had done to himself, but no thirty-year-old should have a face like this. It looked like maggots were crawling under his skin, and his famous nose was so long it could have had its own zip code.

  "Lars, good to see you," Big Nose said.

  "I'm not here for pleasantries," I said, handing him the briefcase.

  "Of course not. Here you are." He gave me back a black briefcase that should've been filled with hundred dollar bills. I was no genius, but I was smart enough to know the case he gave me was too small to hold twenty million dollars.

  "This is it?" I asked, that alarm bell ringing inside me again.

  "That's everything you need," Big Nose replied, smiling at me with his crooked teeth.

  I made the decision in a second. I set the briefcase on a tired-looking ledge crumbling against the wall of the warehouse and opened it. Big Nose never tried to stop me. My eyes bulged when I saw the newspapers piled inside it.

  "You fucker!" I shouted, turning back to him. "Where's the money?" I drew my gun, but Big Nose was only laughing.

  "Lars!" Ash screamed. I looked up to see Big Nose's missing men appear out of the darkness, guns drawn. I didn't know what they'd been waiting for. They could have killed us anytime they wanted. Big Nose just likes to draw things out. Stupid asshole. Suddenly, shots rang across the air. I threw my briefcase at Big Nose and heard a loud crack.

  "Goddammit! You broke my nose!"

  I didn't stop to look back. I could see Tony and Ash dodging their way through the bullets, almost to the door we'd come in through. We were parked right outside of it.

  I caught up to them and was slightly ahead of Ash when a shot rang out. At almost the same time, I felt Ash's hands push me to the ground. "Look out!" he screamed. When I looked up, Ash was lying still. Blood was pouring out of him.

  "Tony! Ash got hit!" Tony stopped at the exit and, without pausing to think, ran back into the hailstorm of bullets. Together, we dragged Ash to the car.

  "You drive," I told him, climbing into the back seat with Ash. It slowly sunk in that Ash had just saved my life. He'd pushed me out of the way and taken the bullet himself.

  "Ash, buddy? You okay? Can you hear me?"

  But Ash's eyes were wide. His already pale skin was like a ghost now. I saw the life leaving him. "Goddammit, Ash! Don't you fucking die on me!"

  Ash looked up at me, his eyes tearing with blood. "Don't let it be for nothing," he croaked, barely audible. "Get out before it gets you, too." It was the last thing that Ash ever said to me.

  1

  Clarissa

  "There!" I shouted, slamming my shot glass onto the bar.

  Madeline rolled her eyes. "Yes, fine, alright. You win. You could drink me under the table any day of the week. Are you happy now?"

  I smiled and laughed, but inside, I still felt crushed. I knew Madeline was seeing right through me and was grateful she'd come out with me tonight. My audition today had been a joke. No one in New York was ever going to hire a size sixteen, even if my body was the hottest thing this side of Manhattan. I just didn't understand it.

  In Colorado, I'd gotten offer after offer to be in college plays and student films. I'd even sung in a nightclub part-time to pay the bills. New York was just different. I couldn't even afford to share a room with someone here. Not even two or three someones. I knew a lot of twenty-one-year-olds still lived with their parents and were fine with it, but I sure as shit wasn't. Moving back in with my dad after living on campus the last four years in Colorado was like stepping into a time warp. Nothing had changed. He still thought my career choice was a waste of time and money, and I still thought the only thing he cared about was football. Of course, he was the coach of the New York Bobcats, as he liked to point out. Thinking about football was his job.

  "Come on, let's do karaoke. Singing always cheers you up," Madeline said, grabbing my hand and trying to pull me through the crowds. Saturday nights at Lola's were always busy. It was supposed to be the hippest, trendiest nightspot in the city right now, though I thought it felt a little flat. The bars in Colorado were all a little nicer, a little friendlier. Here, everyone always seemed like they were in a bad mood. Madeline was the only friend I'd made since arriving in the city, and I was lucky to have her.

  "Not right now," I said. "I need another drink."

  Madeline rolled her eyes. "A Bride for My Father probably won't even stay open for a week. Besides, it's not your fault they didn't pick you. Your body's to die for, and no one sings as good as you, you know that. Not even me."

  "Yeah, but you're the one they're giving the part to."

  Madeline blushed. "We don't know that yet."

  "Oh, come on. That one director was practically drooling over you. You killed it in there today. You deserve it." It was hard for me to say that when I didn't really feel that way. Madeline was awesome, sure, but I was better. That wasn't ego talking; it was fact. My voice was just stronger. My curves were curvier. My breasts were fuller. Everything about me screamed woman, whereas Madeline's size zero body made her look like a little girl, or even a little boy.

  I guess I was a little bitter. So what? I'd been here a month already and hadn't landed one job. My mother never returned my phone calls; she was too busy getting it on with her boy toy in California and trying to be a movie star. Maybe if my father hadn't been such a grouch when they were married, she wouldn't have deserted us when I was six. I knew how shallow his support was when it came to the arts. What was it he'd said to me today when I'd gotten home and told him I'd bombed the audition? Oh yeah, "I told you so."

  "Well, I'm going to the bathroom. Why don't you get another drink and get your head together?" I watched her wobble away, her long, dark hair swinging loose behind her head. She really was pretty—for a skinny girl. She tripped over her own feet and fell against a tall guy with blonde hair who looked like he'd just won the lottery when he looked at her. Crap. No way could she drive like this.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started searching for the number of a cab company, then remembered this was New York City. One thing we had here were cabs. I was about to put my phone away when a picture of me and Treena at the Denver Zoo sprung up. I paused on it and smiled at the memory, then started scrolling through my pictures. I paused on each one, suddenly missing my older sister fiercely. I still couldn't believe she'd stayed in Colorado to be a cop. I would never have pictured that for her when we were little. I was glad I'd stayed with her through New Year’s. At least it gave me some happy memories to look back on. So far, my new year in New York had been dismal.

  Madeline sauntered back over to me. "I just realized it's after midnight," she said. "I've gotta go. I've got an audition in the morning."

  I made a face. I didn't want to be alone right now. "Skip it. You know you got that part today."

  "This one's for a movie," she said, her eyes lighting up.

  "Oh. Awesome." I smiled but turned my head before she could see it didn't reach my eyes. "Give me your keys," I said when I finally got my jealousy under control.

  "I need them to get into my apartment."

  "Fine. But I'm watching you get
into a cab."

  Madeline nodded, and I followed her outside, where the chilled January air whipped my blonde hair around my head in a halo. When Madeline was safely in her cab, I went back into the bar.

  "Come on, come on, come on, let's get this karaoke party started," the DJ was saying from his booth.

  Suddenly, I wanted to sing. I ran up on the stage and grabbed the microphone before anyone else had a chance to. I shouted the name of an old standby that always made me feel good, and when the DJ brought up Peggy Lee's "Fever," I closed my eyes and let the song take over. The world around me stopped. I didn't hear the people in the bar anymore—all I heard was the music. The beat of the drum, the rhythm of the song... they moved through my body like they were a part of me.

  When I opened my eyes again, the bar erupted into applause. I felt myself blushing and stared in wonder at all the people who could applaud me now but wouldn't give me the time of day most days of the week. Through the crowd, one face stared back at me, hitting me like a truck. He had dark hair that was almost black and equally dark eyes that screamed of danger. It felt like they were seeing right through me.

  I took a breath, and when I stepped off the stage, he was there, waiting for me.

  2

  Lars

  "Fuck me. I hate karaoke. What do you say we get out of here?"

  The two girls I was talking to looked at me with their fake blue contacts and dyed hair, and I could see they were ready to run out the door with me.

  "Sounds good to us," they said, each one running a delicate hand up and down my arm, stroking my tattoos. I was just swinging my jacket over my arms when the woman on stage started to sing. I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. My shoulders stiffened, and I dropped my jacket back onto the chair.