Jocked Up: Sports Romance (A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance) Read online




  Jocked Up

  Sport Romance

  Summer Cooper

  Contents

  Jocked Up

  Bad Boy Romance

  Sports Fighter Romance

  Menage Romance

  Second Chance Romance

  Shifter Sports Romance

  About the Author

  Copyright © Lovy Books Ltd, 2016

  Summer Cooper has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Lovy Books Ltd

  20-22 Wenlock Road

  London N1 7GU

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  Jocked Up

  Chapter One

  “Seriously, Amelia, let it go. I’m not going to go in and talk to him. I don’t want to talk to him. I’m going to sneak in the back door, drop the dress off, and run out again. Stop badgering me about your brother. I don’t want to talk to him!” Blowing air between my lips to blow my hair from my eyes, I turn into Amelia’s driveway, listening to her through my car speakers.

  “But he’s changed, Bethany, I swear he has. And he needs a woman like you, honey. Come on, just say hi to him. I’m not even there to giggle or anything. Please?” Amelia’s honey-smooth voice pleaded with me but I wasn’t having any of it.

  “I haven’t spoken to him since your mom and my dad broke up, he obviously hasn’t had anything to say to me. I’m here now so call me later. After this dedication thing, when he’s gone again, preferably. I have a son to raise, I don’t need a man.”

  “Bethany that was in college! It’s been over five years now; you really can’t mean you’re done with men?” Amelia protested.

  “That affair in college was all I needed, thank you Amelia. A hotshot NFL quarterback is the last thing I need. I couldn’t handle the ego.” I groaned in disgust as I thought about it. “I’ll talk to you later.” I broke the connection and turned the car off. I was dreading this but Amelia insisted she needed me to drop off the dress that she was borrowing from me. I knew it was just a ploy to get me to talk to Drake but it wasn’t going to happen. I had nothing to say to him.

  I opened my car door, pulling the dress out from the backseat, and closed the door quietly. My car engine was quiet; I knew he hadn’t heard me coming into the driveway. Now I just had to get in and out without seeing the face of the man that still set my hackles on end. Drake, Amelia’s brother, and at one point almost my step-brother, was hotter than any man had a right to be, but his personality left a bit to be desired.

  Pushing memories away as I cursed myself for not wearing shoes with softer soles I stepped into the kitchen. As always, Amelia’s home was immaculate, so immaculate you’d almost think it was a showroom. I draped the dress over a counter where she could see it and turned to leave.

  “All you had to do was call, Bethany, you didn’t have to sneak into the house to see me.” The deep male voice, a smooth, sexy, singer’s voice, sent a shiver down my spine and made me pause. Shit, he’d caught me.

  Turning with a blank look on my face I faced Drake. God, he still had that same shitty grin that made me want to slap him from so long ago. That grin said he knew all women wanted him and that panties spontaneously combusted in his presence. This was the last person on earth I wanted to see and he was standing there, sexy as ever in a dark suit that fit him perfectly, doing little to hide the honed body beneath. This had once been the man of my dreams, the first man I ever gave myself to, and the first man to break my heart. But I’d known then that he was a heartbreaker, I’d just been too naïve to admit it to myself.

  We’d been teenagers when our parents moved us all in together, tentative wedding plans in place. Drake had been a sneering, surly football hero at our high school and I’d been the dork in combat boots and dark sweaters. I’d loved him from the first moment I saw him with his curly blonde hair that he kept short, clear grey eyes and a well-muscled body on a frame that was over six feet tall. It had been his eyes, the buried hurt expressed as anger or arrogance that had drawn me in. A hurt little boy missing his dead father who had to pretend to be a man.

  For a year I’d adored that face, making excuses for the insults he slung my way, telling myself he was a football player and I was the studious bookworm; he couldn’t let his friends know he loved me. In private moments, he could be tender, almost loving, but in public I knew we both had roles to play. And he was all but my step-brother; we had to keep it a secret.

  Alright, so I’d built up this entire scenario in my head from a moment when he brought me soup his mother made when I was sick. And from a moment of extreme awareness when I came out of the shower in only a towel and he was on the other side of the door when I opened it. He wasn’t supposed to be home but he’d come early from football practice and I’d been standing there, wrapped in only that towel.

  Even then I’d been well-developed with breasts that the other girls in school envied, even though I wasn’t eager to display my body. I looked like some of the women I’d seen in magazines, a slim waist with full hips and breasts, a pretty face but I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to read, to learn, to fill my brain with knowledge. And marry Drake.

  He’d stood there with his mouth hanging open, his eyes moving up from my feet, pausing at the hem of the towel that barely covered my girly bits before moving up to my cleavage still dotted with droplets of water. He’d said my name as his eyes darkened, his hand reaching out to me but I’d heard his mom calling my name.

  I’d felt my heart pounding, my feet frozen in place as he stared at my pale skin, and I’d been about to step into that hand, about to fill his palm with my breast when his mom called out. Her voice broke the spell and we both blinked, stepping away from each other hurriedly, going our separate ways. We had avoided each other until Amelia and I graduated. He’d come home from his freshman year of college to see his sister and me, the same age, graduate.

  I’d seen him as I walked off of the stage, his eyes wide as he looked at me. I’d made an effort to look like a girl, my hair done and makeup on. He’d found me later at the party our parents threw, and we’d been unable to control what had been building through glances and unspoken words over the last year.

  He was gone the next morning and I’d gone off to college, heartbroken but wiser. A night of passion, the night I’d dreamed of spending in his arms, had been all that I’d hoped it would be. I suppose he’d had a lot of practice with college girls because he’d loved me like he was worshipping me, with a skill I’d never expected. My knees were still shaking the next morning when I’d fumbled my way out of the bed we’d made in my old treehouse to find he’d already gone off camping with his buddies.

  I’d waited, certain he’d come back, but our parents had split up not long after that and I’d not seen him again. He’d been drafted into the NFL and his life was something I couldn�
�t even dream of. Amelia and I had remained friends. But now he was in front of me and a million memories, a thousand questions, plagued me.

  All I could do was stand quietly, my heart pounding as I forgot to breathe. But this time, it was with the knowledge of how he felt between my thighs and how easily he’d broken my heart. A wiser woman stood before him now, I wasn’t that silly teenaged girl anymore.

  “Hardly, tell Amelia I brought her dress. Bye Drake.” I spoke simply, without inflection. I wasn’t going to fall all over myself to gush over him. He wasn’t worth it.

  “I see you’ve barely changed, Bethany. Still beautiful. Still cold.” His full pink lips were smiling at me, as though he knew he was making my pulse race, waiting for the adoration just beneath the surface. He could wait for the mountains to crumble before I would do that again though.

  “It’s been six years, Drake, not twenty. I’m a little older, a little wiser, but it’s not been long enough for me. See you around.”

  “Bethany, wait!” He called out to me as I reached for the door knob.

  Something in his honey-smooth voice made me pause. I hated myself for it but I couldn’t make my feet move.

  “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. I’d like to catch up with you.” I turned back, that suit drawing my eyes to all the right places and I wanted to say yes in that moment but squashed it.

  Looking at him I put my own sneer on my face and looked at him dismissively.

  “I think we burned that bridge long ago, don’t you?” My words were cold and should have shut him down instantly.

  “Oh come off it, Bethany. We’ve always wanted each other. We’re adults now. I’m alone; we can go upstairs for a quick trip down memory lane. You know you want to.” His tone was teasing, tempting, and I smiled at him, moving closer to his chest.

  Placing a finger on a button of his shirt I toyed with the plastic, giving him a smoldering look and a sexy grin.

  “Drake?” I breathed his name, drawing his eyes to my lips as I spoke.

  “Bethany?” He grinned a grin of conquest, certain of himself now. Sure he’d bagged me.

  “If there were two men left on earth and the choice was between you and a man that lived in a barn full of cow shit and he took a bath in said shit daily, I’d still pick him over you.” With a flick of the button, I turned to leave once more, triumphant as his face fell and his mask of certainty slipped.

  “Wait!” He called out again.

  “What Drake? Was that not plain enough for you?” I said, turning back again.

  “I want to see you. No games, seriously, just to catch up. Agree or I’ll tell Amelia what happened between us when we were kids.” He at least had the good grace to look a tad ashamed of himself.

  “Oh, you are childish Drake! Seriously?” I looked at him, stunned. An angry little boy not getting his way and now he was resorting to blackmail to get what he wanted. “Your toy tried to escape so now you’re going to kick it?”

  “If that’s what it takes, then yes. Just one date, Bethany, please.” He looked away from me.

  “Fine.” A split second decision. Amelia didn’t know what had happened between us. I’d prefer to keep it that way and he seemed to know that.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up after the dedication.” His grin was back and I wanted to punch his perfect white teeth in.

  “Fine.” He really wasn’t getting the idea that the word “fine” often meant quite the opposite of what he thought it did.

  “I’ll get your address from Amelia.”

  “Fine. Bye.” Rolling my eyes, I finally walked out of the house.

  Dammit! I did not want to go out on a date with this man. He really was the last man on earth I’d ever want to spend time with. But I didn’t want that secret getting out. I drove home, arranging a sitter once I got there, and had a shower.

  Looking in the mirror after I dressed I knew I’d accomplished the look I was going for, schoolmarm chic at its best. A flower print dress that came to the middle of my calves, baggy and shapeless, my hair pinned up behind my ears, minimal makeup, and practical shoes. Oh my, hot I was not!

  My naturally platinum blonde hair was in its normal flat-ironed state, straight and long down my back. I looked like a nice girl, which is what I am now. I attend church regularly, volunteer at school and church, have a good reputation in town, and am often complimented on my kind brown eyes. I don’t raise women’s hackles or men’s blood pressure. I’m a nice hometown kind of girl and that’s all I ever want to be. In my youth, I wanted to be the angst-ridden writer making millions with dark novels of love and passion but now I just wanted to be able to afford to buy my son a video game and maintain our upkeep.

  Drake was a reminder of the things I’d wanted to forget, my hopes and dreams, my goals that I’d let fall by the wayside. I’d gone off to college with a crushed heart, and when I came home pregnant my world had changed again. I now had someone counting on me, I couldn’t take risks, I had to settle down and make sure I was going to be able to feed my son.

  Now Drake was back and as much as I told myself I hated the man, my body remembered how he’d touched me with wonder, how he’d explored every inch of my skin with a fascination and gentleness I’d never imagined he could display. I remembered how he felt inside of me and how my heart had cried with joy that night.

  I wondered how I could get out of the date? I knew I couldn’t but I wanted to desperately.

  Going to sit in the living room I lost myself in my memories once more, going back to the beginning of the whole mess. My mother had passed away the year before, cervical cancer that had spread to her brain and other organs, stealing her life away. Drake’s father had disappeared while on a mission in the Army and had later been reported as ‘killed in action’.

  Five years after his father’s death had been reported, Drake’s mother moved him and his sister in with my father and I. Our parents had no idea of how they were about to wreak havoc on our young lives. Already depressed, hiding in black clothes and the obligatory dark room, with the even more obligatory dyed black hair, I’d looked coldly at the two All-American children brought into my home and yet I’d fallen in love with them.

  Amelia, my best friend, was a light that drug me out of my darkness but Drake almost drove me back into it. My son, Peter, was my ultimate savior, and the reason I breathed. I wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt him and Drake was already on the boy’s lips. All the kids at his pre-school knew about Drake being an NFL star, and he’d been fascinated that I used to know him. Peter couldn’t know about this date because his “hero” was a giant flaming jerk. I’d let the man raise my hopes once, I wasn’t going to let him do that with my son too.

  I’d go on this date, come home, and that would be it. Never again. He’d be out of my life for good. Taking a deep breath, I shivered as I heard a deep vibrating noise come from my driveway. Oh man, he even had an awesome truck to go with those good looks. Feeling my knees want to give way I walked to the door with dread and told myself to buck up. It was one date. That was it.

  Chapter Two

  “You look, uh, nice.” Drake sounded doubtful of his own words as I climbed into the jacked up black truck. Why did it need such huge tires?

  “What? I’m not dressed in a tiny black dress that barely covers my boobs and heels that I need a cane to actually stand up in so I just look “uh, nice?” That’s nice, thanks Drake.” I sat back in the seat, buckling myself in as he raised a blonde eyebrow and held out a box of deep red roses to me. I put them down without opening them. Flowers! I didn’t want his flowers!

  He took a deep breath, let it out, then slowly backed out of the driveway of my light blue one story house on a street lined with similar shotgun houses. Living in a small southern Louisiana town I had three choices, a trailer, a shotgun house, or a mansion on stilts. As a teacher, I could afford the shotgun house with a small backyard. I was happy with my life here but I had my eye on another house not far away. For now, having nei
ghbors that invited my son and me to crawfish boils and birthday parties was enough.

  My house probably didn’t compare with what Drake lived in but I didn’t care. I looked back at the house in the side mirror and smiled. It was my home and I liked it. Drake didn’t say much as he drove and I moved to turn the radio up. At least he had country music playing. I realized it was one of my favorite singers and cranked it just a little higher. He’d been polite enough to keep it down low so we could talk but I didn’t want to talk. I hoped turning it up would give him a hint to keep quiet.

  Drake gave a nod of his head when he saw what I was doing and just started to sing along. Honestly, I was floored by the performance. I loved the singer, he had a deep grainy voice that often gave me chills but there was a note in Drake’s voice as he sang that song, a longing that the artist had strived for but somehow failed to deliver. When I heard Drake singing it I finally felt the full impact. This was a man that wanted something and knew exactly what it was.

  I looked out of the window as the day turned to black and lights came on, the sound of Drake’s singing filling me with a longing I wasn’t happy about. I couldn’t feel this way about him. I couldn’t help the way my eyebrow rose as he sang along with the next song. God, he could sing!

  When we arrived at the restaurant my thoughts about Drake’s singing and how I wish he’d have been willing to be my moon so long ago, blew away. He’d brought me to the most expensive restaurant in town! Great! And here I was dressed like a grandmother on her way to a church fair. Giving a sigh of frustration I climbed back out of the truck, grateful I’d at least put on some sensible shoes for climbing out of the monster Dodge truck.

  We walked in and Drake tried to take my elbow but I pulled away.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, I’m here because you blackmailed me. That’s pretty desperate for an NFL star. But yeah, don’t bother with the romance and holding my elbow crap, I don’t know what you’re after, I’m guessing it’s another jump in the sack so you can leave me again, but I’m not one of your little airheaded groupies. I have some respect for myself buddy so just leave off with the romance, alright?”