Home Run King

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Home Run King Page 1

by Stella




  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Home Run King

  STELLA

  Edited by

  GFY Editing

  Cover Design

  Robin Harper at Wicked by Design

  Copyright © 2018 by Stella

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  So maybe you were right about Gage…Luckily, that’s our little secret.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Katie

  2. Gage

  3. Katie

  4. Gage

  5. Katie

  6. Katie

  7. Gage

  8. Gage

  9. Katie

  10. Gage

  11. Katie

  12. Katie

  13. Gage

  14. Katie

  15. Katie

  16. Gage

  17. Katie

  18. Katie

  19. Gage

  20. Gage

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  STELLA

  Meet the Authors

  Also by STELLA

  Prologue

  Gage

  I didn’t want to lift my face from the security of my folded arms—I never outgrew the whole “if I can’t see you, then you can’t see me” theory. Although, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep my best friend from finding me. The wooden kitchen table I had my body bent over wasn’t finished, meaning I’d have to pick splinters out of my forearms once I finally decided to come out of hiding. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I had my face buried so tightly in the crook of my elbow that the heat from my breaths was searing my cheeks because it had nowhere else to go. But Coby wasn’t here to chitchat over a few beers. He was here to lecture me like the father he was—first-degree burns were minor compared to the hell Coby was about to unleash.

  “If you think this is bothering me, you’re wrong, Gage. This actually works out better. Because now I can talk, and you can listen, and I don’t have to worry about you arguing or trying to change the subject by bringing up my wife’s tits.” Coby talked about a lot of things, most I didn’t care to listen to…but when he mentioned “tits”—more specifically, Ellie’s tits—now that got my attention.

  I lifted my head and took a moment to enjoy the cool air against my fiery face. Then, as if Coby held out a gold-wrapped gift box full of his wife’s panties, a grin slowly split my lips. Without a mirror, I knew precisely which kind of smile it was—lopsided, making only one cheek ache and one eye slightly more squinty. It was my “get out of jail free” smile. I had lots of “get out of jail free” expressions, but this was the only one that would work on Coby, even though he constantly told me it made me look goofy and somewhat constipated. No one could resist the Gage Nix charm.

  “Coby!” My voice rose with such realistic surprise I almost fooled myself. “When’d you get here? Man, I gotta tell ya, this is such a shocker. I wasn’t expecting you at all. I’m utterly flatulent at finding you here…in my house, seated directly in front of me…at my kitchen table.”

  “I know. That was exactly what you told me two minutes ago when I got here…right before you put your head down like a kid in timeout. And the word you’re looking for is flabbergasted. Not flatulent.” He sighed dramatically and then leaned forward with his elbows on the wood in a show of getting down to business. “You can’t hide from this, Gage.”

  “Watch out, you’ll get splinters.” I pointed to the grainy wood.

  “Do you take anything seriously?” And so, the lecture begins.

  “I take everything seriously. Do you even know me? My nickname in college was Sober Sam.”

  “Gage…” He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “You never went to college, and no one, ever, has called you that. Drunk Dan maybe. But come on, you can’t joke your way through this, man. You knocked up Missy’s cousin.”

  “I did not knock up Missy’s cousin,” I argued. Then thought about what I just said. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did. But what’s your point? Missy broke up with me six months ago. Does she seriously expect me to never sleep with anyone else ever again?”

  “No…but you could’ve at least not slept with anyone in her family. That’d be a good start.”

  I stared at Coby, someone who had truly become my best friend over the last five years—as in, the very best kind of friend anyone could ever ask for. He’d been there for me when I blew out my knee three years ago and couldn’t play ball for an entire season, when my grandmother passed away earlier this year, and again six months ago when the woman I thought I would marry and have a family with left me. There was no way I could’ve gotten through the last few years without the support of Coby and his wife, Ellie.

  However, there were things they didn’t know.

  “It wasn’t like I planned to sleep with her. You’re the only one I know who schedules wicky-wicky on your calendar. Which is totally fine—what you do is your business. But it’d be great if you didn’t use the calendar on your fridge to schedule it. I mean, anyone who eats at your house knows when your play time is.”

  At least a sliver of a grin shadowed the corners of his mouth. “How many times do I have to explain this to you? Those are my workout routines. Back, legs, arms, chest…how does that have anything to do with sex?”

  “From behind, legs around your neck, arms tied to the bed, and chest could be several things—good ol’ chest-to-chest lovemaking, maybe a little motorboating. And don’t tell me you aren’t familiar with the classic titty fu—”

  “I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”

  “Oh, so now that you actually have one, you’re too good to talk about it?”

  “No. Because I know you, and if I give you the smallest detail, your imagination will completely take off with it until you have us in some crazy position doing things that would make porn stars blush. So no, I’m not going there with you. Although, I have to admit, I’m rather impressed with your ability to turn any word into something the Kama Sutra would be proud of.”

  “Why thank you, kind sir.” I bowed slightly from my chair, which only made him roll his eyes. Ungrateful nerd. “No need to be jealous. It’s not a skill that can be easily taught.”

  “Can we get back on track, please?”

  I knew what he was referring to, but I wasn’t in the mood to play along. So instead, I decided to steer us back to his past. “Sure, no problem. You having an issue getting past third base again? Can’t quite seem to make it to home plate with Ellie? If you think it’ll help, I’m more than willing to sit in and coach you through it.”

  He blinked at me. Not the fluttering of lashes I was used to from the ladies, but more like his vision was acting up again and he couldn’t see me very well. Then his brow creased. Not quite like a woman’s when she comes—yeah, I knew that sight like the back of my hand—but kind of like he was confused.

  “You’re
thinking about it, aren’t ya?” I wagged my eyebrows, and the ache in my left cheek from my grin grew worse.

  “No. I’m thinking about how in the hell you’re going to be a father.”

  “Quite simple really…when a man and a woman—”

  “Gage!” Coby slapped the table, and the sound echoed through the bare kitchen. “Not how it happened, but how you plan to actually be a parent. It’s bad enough I had to hear about it from Ellie, who found out from Missy—who, by the way, was not happy about the news.”

  “I don’t know why she cares. She already moved on.” That still stung.

  Less than three months after she dumped me, she was already out dating someone else. This was a woman I had been with for three and a half years. The only woman I had ever been in a long-term relationship with. Hell, we were living together when she woke up one morning and said she no longer wanted to be with me. “Last I heard, she was shacking up with the principal.”

  “He’s not the principal. He’s the substitute English teacher.” Coby should know. He was the boys’ PE teacher at St. Michael’s Catholic High School, where Missy was his counterpart coaching the girls.

  I waved him off. “Same thing.”

  “A principal of a school and a substitute teacher are not the same thing.” He sighed, and his shoulders slumped, which told me even he thought his argument was a waste of breath. “I take it you haven’t talked to Missy about it?”

  “About what? Her new boyfriend?”

  “No.” His patience was so thin I could practically see through it. “About the baby.”

  “And say what, Coby? ‘How’s the nutty professor in bed? Oh, and by the way, do you remember your cousin, Katie? Yeah, so I impregnated her. It was a good time.’ I’m going to go ahead and guess that won’t work out well.” I couldn’t handle the way he stared at me with disappointment in his eyes. “And you shouldn’t be surprised that I didn’t tell you. Missy is Ellie’s best friend, she works with you, and when we split up, you both told me you two were staying neutral.”

  “I get it.” He released a long exhale and scrubbed his hand over his face, as if this conversation somehow exhausted him. “I wasn’t even aware you and Katie still talked, let alone saw each other long enough to…you know.”

  “She was my Granny’s nurse for years. Hell, I knew her far longer than I knew Missy. And in case you don’t recall, I had been dating Missy for close to a year before either one of us realized the connection.” That might’ve been because it’d taken me that long to even introduce Missy to my Granny, and subsequently, Katie. “You’re making it sound like they were close or something. They barely spoke to one another. It’s not like I went after Katie on purpose to spite Missy. It just happened.” In a moment of utter grief—but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “Well, have you and Katie discussed it?” Coby was usually playful, so to see him so somber was odd and slightly uncomfortable. “I mean, have you two talked about your options or what you want to do? A baby is a big deal. It’s not something you can just put away when you have better things to do.”

  He didn’t need to tell me that. I knew it more than most. But I didn’t care to argue with him about it. In fact, I didn’t want to talk about it period. Over the last eight months, I’d felt like a pile of manure had been dumped on my head, and every day, it only got worse. I was convinced I’d die under a metric ton of shit. I was the only one who could climb out from underneath it, yet every time I thought I found my footing, I’d slip deeper into it.

  “Options?” I shoved down my real reaction and turned the charm back on, the one he and everyone else was used to getting from me. “You mean like adoption? Is this your way of telling me you want my baby, Coby?”

  “I already have three of my own.”

  “Yeah, but none of them have my DNA…that you know of.” I added a wink for good measure. “Admit it. You want the bragging rights of having Gage Nix’s baby. Every female in the country would kill to say that, so imagine how newsworthy it would be if ESPN announced that the Coby Kyler, retired MLB pitcher, was the father of my baby.”

  He tucked his chin and shook his head, more than likely to hide his smile. He should know by now that conversations of the serious manner never lasted for long in my presence. “This poor kid,” he whispered under his breath. Then he returned his attention to me. “So since you managed to get Katie to have sex with you, does this mean she doesn’t hate you anymore?”

  “She never hated me.”

  “She certainly wasn’t your biggest fan.”

  “Eh…” I lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, playing it off like it didn’t bother me. When in all honesty, Katie’s obvious displeasure of my existence irked me to no end. Really…the only women who had any right to dislike me were the ones I’d dated before Missy—back when I had my self-imposed no-second-date rule. Yet Katie had an aversion to me prior to our night together. It still boggled my mind. “You don’t have to like someone to have sex with them.”

  “Agreed, but how exactly do you guys plan to co-parent?”

  “Not a clue. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how it all works out.”

  Chapter One

  Katie

  I’d never get used to the sounds of the house without Granny in it. She’d been gone for months, but I could still hear her cane on the hardwood floors and her calling my name when she needed something. “Kathryn, sweetheart. Can you help me?” Her voice was strong until the day she passed away. She was the only family I had, and I missed her terribly.

  Making my way down the stairs, I noticed the pictures had been taken off the walls, and the smell of mint started to fade without her burning candles every day. I had yet to figure out what Gage’s game plan was with this place. Initially, it seemed he planned to update it and put it on the market. Mostly what he’d done was put away anything personal, gotten rid of old furniture that should have been tossed a decade ago, and made a mess in the name of renovations. I tried not to say much. He hadn’t realized that I should have moved out after his grandmother passed away, and as it stood, I didn’t have a plan—much less anywhere else to go.

  I padded down the hall and into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It was one of those moments I knew something was off, but I couldn’t tell just what it was. Without caffeine to start the day, my mind remained a tad foggy. I dismissed the thought and set about making the morning brew. I kept the coffee in the freezer now that Granny wasn’t here to help consume it, and the creamer in the fridge. There were six flavors of creamer on the top shelf and a jar of pickles with three swimming in green juice. The bare shelves didn’t bother me, it was the waning peppermint mocha creamer that had me making a mental note to stop by the store today.

  The scent of fresh coffee percolating was a painfully happy memory. That smell was as nostalgic as pictures for other people. Thankfully, the pregnancy hadn’t thrown that out of whack yet. It wasn’t just the aroma—the mug, the creamer, the sugar, the pot—it all reminded me of Granny. A smile took hold of my lips as a tear slipped down my cheek. It hadn’t gotten any easier, and I wondered if it ever would.

  Warmth spread through my fingers and into my palm through the ceramic cup as I inhaled deeply and took a sip. I made my way to the same spot I’d sat in every morning for years to conduct the same routine, minus Granny, of course. And that’s when it hit me—what was missing. The kitchen table and chairs that were here last night were now nowhere to be found.

  Dumbfounded, shocked, irritated—I stood there staring at the empty space expecting something to materialize…a chair, barstool, bench, anything. This was my spot. I couldn’t start my day any other way, and he’d taken it…likely out of spite. Jackass.

  The front door opened without so much as a knock or ring of the bell, stealing me from my stupor. Quickly turning toward the sound, I found the perpetrator in my midst.

  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’? Other than my bun in your oven.”

  Ignoring G
age’s asinine greeting, I crossed my arm over my stomach and held my coffee out in front of me. “Sure would be nice to have a place to drink this.”

  “Oh, you mean the table?” Gage closed the door and crossed the living room, admiring his handiwork in the now vacant breakfast nook.

  My chest rose and fell as I took several deep breaths before responding. “Where am I supposed to drink my coffee, Gage?”

  He peered over the edge of my cup. Then, without a word, he took the mug from my hand and strolled over to the sink. Before I could comment or ask what he was doing, he turned it upside down and flipped on the faucet to wash it away. “This crap is horrible for the baby. You shouldn’t be drinking it anyway.” And then he set the cup on the counter.

  My mouth hung open and my brow furrowed in confusion, anger, dismay. Gage Nix drove me insane, and I was convinced he did it purposefully. No one human could be this clueless unless it was intentional. “That was my coffee, Gage.”

  He turned his back to me and reached for the handle on the refrigerator. I didn’t have a clue what he could possibly have stared at for as long as he held the door open.

  “There’s nothing in there. What are you looking for?” My patience was wearing thin.

  He held up the jar of pickles. “Is this what you’re living on? Pickles and coffee? I didn’t think that weird pregnancy stuff started this early.”

  Truthfully, I hadn’t been living on much of anything since Granny passed away. Without a paycheck coming in, there weren’t really any funds to visit the store on a regular basis. I made do and bought the essentials. There was ice cream in the freezer, too. He just hadn’t bothered to look there. I ignored his question and tried to bring him back to the issue at hand.

 

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