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

  I could see from the look on his face that this night wasn’t going as he’d planned. He’d tried to turn on the charm once we got out of the truck but his face fell now and he almost looked hurt. Maybe the truth hurt?

  I stalked into the restaurant, an obviously unhappy camper, and waited to be seated. Drake still hadn’t said anything and that was probably for the best. I was fuming. This was obviously some women’s fantasy and he’d done it before with great success but not on me. My logical brain wasn’t having any of it.

  We sat down and quietly looked at the menu as the waiter fetched our wine order. I needed at least a small drink to get through the rest of the evening. When the waiter came back we hadn’t even discussed what we were having.

  “Are you ready to order?” The man in the black suit coat and slacks asked in a tone that all but stated he didn’t care.

  My eyes tightened even more. Why did expensive restaurants employ such smarmy staff?

  “Yes, we’ll have two filet mignon with sautéed asparagus please.” Drake handed over the menus, picking mine up from in front of me to give back to the waiter.

  “Very good, sir.” The waiter moved to leave but I called him back.

  “Excuse me but no. I’ll have the braised lamb, please.”

  “Indeed madam. Thank you.” The waiter walked away and I glared at Drake.

  “I’m sorry, I’m used to women just telling me to order for them.” He held his hands out in a faultless gesture.

  “I’ve told you, I’m not one of your women. I can actually make a decision. Like the one where I said no but you insisted.” I spoke pointedly.

  “Ah, right.” He picked up his glass and sipped rather than say anything else.

  “How long are we going to be? I have a son to get home to.” I was being rude but I didn’t care, I didn’t ask for this.

  “You have a son? Amelia never said!” He looked surprised and looked me over again, obviously thinking I took care of myself, which irked me even more. I just had a good metabolism.

  “I do have a son. Like you, his father thought running off and leaving me after he got what he wanted was a good idea. Unfortunately, I was pregnant.” My anger was palpable.

  “Ah.” Drake didn’t say it but I could tell he was impressed, I’d persevered. “More wine?”

  “No thank you. That’s not going to work either.” It was then I realized I sounded like a very bitter woman, which I suppose I was. He’d hurt me, deeply, and pulled me into this. I resented that.

  “I wasn’t…” Drake began, but I interrupted.

  “I’ll spell it out again, Drake. I’m only here because you made sure I couldn’t say no. I’m going to eat my food, you’re going to take me home, and that’s it. The flowers, the wine, the food, is not going to make me change my mind. I don’t like you. You’ve used me and thrown me away already, why put us through this again?” That’s the one thing I couldn’t figure out. “Why me, anyway? I’m sure there’s a plethora of women in this town that can keep you company for the short time you’re going to be here.”

  “I guess I saw you and knew I’d made a mistake. I wanted to try to make amends.” His words came out without a moment’s thought so I knew they weren’t planned, but still, I couldn’t allow my heart to melt, not even a little bit.

  “Oh, that’s nice, a little late though.” I sneered the words but shut up as the waiter brought our food. We ate in silence and I refused dessert. I don’t even know what the food tasted like, by that point I had allowed my anger and rage from the last six years to build to a point where I felt my eyes must surely be glowing with it. Why didn’t he just take me home?

  Drake paid the rather overpriced bill and we went out to the truck. I didn’t even tell the waiter goodbye. I just picked my bag up off of the back of my chair and stalked out. I’m sure the town would soon be buzzing about the date I blew with Drake Saterlee. But first, they’d all have to believe I actually went out on a date, something unheard of in the place I’d lived in all of my life. I’d even heard whispers about Immaculate Conception where Peter was concerned.

  Drake pulled into my driveway and he’d apparently got the idea by now because he didn’t even put the truck into park.

  “Well, thanks, Bethany.” He looked depressed but I wasn’t being swayed.

  “Yeah, I needed that trip down memory lane, Drake. Bye.” I jumped out of the truck, slamming the heavy door shut as I walked away. That was a really nice truck but it was driven by an asshole. I unlocked the door and let myself into my house.

  Thank goodness it’s over! I’d made it through the night without humiliating myself. I’d been strong, stood up for myself, and told him off more than once. I walked into the bathroom, turning on the bathtub faucet. I needed a bath to wash away the hurt before Peter’s sitter brought him home.

  Drake drove into his sister’s driveway a few miles away and sat in the truck for a moment, shell-shocked from the evening. Used to adoring women willing to do anything for a moment of his time, he thought Bethany wouldn’t be any different. He’d seen her in the kitchen that afternoon and assumed she’d snuck in to see him. He knew she hadn’t when he saw the dress but thought maybe that it had been an excuse to see him.

  He’d seen her and some of those teenage hormonally charged memories had flooded through his mind. Thoughts of that one night they’d spent together had him ready for round two. They’d had a night that had lingered in his memory but his friends had called, life had called, and for a young man on his way to stardom that hometown girl couldn’t compare to the lure of parties and more women than he could handle.

  But seeing her again he’d wondered if he’d made a mistake. She seemed to have her life in order but she was so angry. He couldn’t remember Bethany being that angry before.

  “Wow.” He said out loud as he climbed out of the truck and went into the house. “I must have done a number on her.”

  He had been after just another roll in the hay when he asked for the date but as the day had progressed he’d changed his mind. He really wanted to know more about the woman with the beautiful pixie face and the air of ethereal mystery. Something about her drew him in and it was more than just how beautiful she was. Older and wiser, her body more mature, Bethany had been a monument of control.

  Drake was self-confident, years of women throwing themselves at him had taught him all he needed to know about how to get a woman. But Bethany had thrown all of that back at him, and told him to go suck it, to boot. Well, no, she hadn’t been so crude but she probably was thinking it in her head. She used to swear like a sailor, he remembered with a laugh, now she blushed when she said a swear word. He bet she still thought them, though. He gave a bark of laughter and went into his sister’s house.

  “Well?” He heard Amelia ask before he could even sit down. “How did it go?”

  Drake looked over at his dark-haired sister with the same grey eyes as his and gave a rueful smile.

  “She hates me.”

  “Surely not? But why?” Amelia asked in disbelief.

  Drake knew he couldn’t tell his sister he’d fucked her best friend a long time ago then shot out of town like a rocket. It was a secret first of all, and second, it didn’t paint him in the best light, did it?

  “Who knows, Bethany was always a strange one, wasn’t she?”

  “Hm. What did you do?” Amelia’s narrowed eyes, so similar to his, let him know she wasn’t buying it.

  “I brought her flowers, treated her kindly, took her to Ormand’s, and it didn’t matter what I did, I was doing something wrong.” He said, his confusion obvious. Why hadn’t it worked?

  “You can’t woo Bethany that way! Sheesh, Drake! You haven’t been home in six years, you obviously forgot about life with Bethany and this little town. You have to show her you’re serious if you are. Be the kind of man she wants; the kind I know you can be.” Amelia rolled her eyes at her brother’s stupidity. “No wonder. You just took the country hick out and showed her how
much money you have. You didn’t take a woman on a date; you showed her what you had!”

  “What? That’s not what I did at all!” Drake protested, getting a bit offended.

  “It is to Bethany. She’s fought for six years to finish school, to get a job, to provide for her son. She doesn’t have a lot; she doesn’t even have a father for Peter. And you came in with your flashy money and jewelry, those jeans that should be outlawed, by the way brother, they are not hiding any of your, ahem, assets, and your “I own it all” smile and chose a playmate for the night. No wonder she wasn’t happy.” Amelia glared at her brother. “Now I’m going to have to apologize to her. Thanks a lot Drake!”

  Drake stared at his sister, confused as to what had happened. He’d just taken the woman out; he hadn’t been trying to show off. Maybe they’d taken it that way but this is just how it was out in Los Angeles, where he lived. Sighing he kicked off the black motorcycle boots on his feet and carried them to his bedroom. Now his sister was mad at him too. Great!

  He wanted to show them both they were wrong but already he could feel the lure of the familiar. He’d been looking forward to coming back to his hometown but now, it was just too weird. Drake looked around and felt guilty about the thoughts running through his mind but he knew that this place was too country for him now. It wasn’t his version of normal and he almost couldn’t wait to get back to LA. He’d figure out if he even wanted to get back in Bethany’s good graces later. Right now he needed a party and a woman that could make him forget the pain and accusation in Bethany’s eyes.

  Chapter Three

  A few months later, as summer approached and practice session began, Drake drove his truck into the stadium parking lot, blaring his favorite country songs from his sound system. He’d gone back to LA and the life of parties, the easy women, back to his normal life. He’d wanted to go back to Bethany, he’d wanted to show her he wasn’t just the asshole she thought he was but life had got in the way, again.

  He knew he’d have to be in LA for practice soon enough and it seemed silly to go back to Louisiana for a few months to try to convince a woman who hated him to give him a chance. Drake had talked himself out of going back to Louisiana before he’d even stepped out of his first class plane seat. Now it was time for some serious football, no more parties, no more women, just training, and practice.

  Drake slapped the hands of his teammates, did some shoulder bumps with others, and generally did a lot of greeting as he walked out on the field after a trip to the locker room. He followed his trainer as he went through his warm-ups and when it came time for a little practice game he knew he was going to eat his teammates for dinner. He was in perfect shape, he knew the game from over a decade of living and breathing it, and he was ready for the fun to begin.

  Drake was in the back of the field, easily avoiding his opponents with twists and turns when he spotted the man he was looking for at the other end of the field, in the perfect position. Leaping into the air as though he didn’t weigh close to 200 pounds of muscle, more like a ballerina with a tiny frame, Drake threw the ball, knowing it was going to reach his target without having to even look. What he didn’t see was a line-backer heading straight for his knees.

  Drake and his opponent collided, and as Drake fell he twisted, trying to break away. His foot caught in something on the other man’s gear and Drake fell, his knee twisting with a loud pop that he felt go all the way through his body. A shout of anger and agony carried across the field and medics came running. Drake knew, he knew in that instant that his life had changed and he was fucked. His career was over.

  I prepared for my afternoon tutoring class, a program I volunteered for at the school during the summer. School had been out for two weeks for all but those in need of some extra attention. I spent a few weeks of my summer vacation making sure they got it. I loved helping my students and when a concept finally made sense to them, the light of knowledge shining in their eyes, it was all the reward I needed.

  Amelia sent a text just as I was pulling into the parking lot and I pulled out my phone, wondering what had prompted the text. She knew I was busy in the afternoons. She had my son if she needed any more proof. Amelia’s husband was an investment banker; she didn’t need to work but she watched Peter during the summer for me. As my BFF she looked at Peter as her nephew and they referred to each other in that manner. Peter loved his Aunt Amelia and the way she’d fill his afternoons with museums or other educational but fun outings. She even managed to turn a trip to a water park educational, teaching Peter about science through excursions.

  Amelia could be an airhead sometimes but she wasn’t the idiot people often took her for. She was quite brilliant if people only gave her a chance. I checked the phone with a smile on my face but the smile quickly disappeared. Drake had been hurt at practice and was going into surgery. I felt a sudden pang of guilt for my treatment of him and called Amelia immediately.

  “What’s going on?” I might have detested the man but he was my best friend’s brother, I had to be there for her.

  “He’s torn some ligaments in his knee, they don’t know how bad it is yet but they think it’s dislocated. If it is, his career is done.” Amelia sounded stressed but not overwhelmed.

  “I hope he saved some of his earnings then.” I couldn’t stop the stinging words from escaping.

  “I know. But he was at practice so the team will have to cover it and his insurance will pay. I’ll call you back later honey, I’ve got a call coming in from my mom.” Amelia quickly switched over and I hung up the phone. I felt sorry for the man if his career was over but he’d already made it so far in life. I couldn’t feel too sorry for him.

  I was happy with my life in our hometown; I loved life here and couldn’t ask for more. Maybe a slightly bigger house, but I was content. This place had built me, made me who I was. I liked who I was, even if I swore a lot in my head. And around Drake.

  Putting him and my phone away I went into the school, not overly concerned with Drake’s future. He’d get by. I wasn’t a part of his life and couldn’t worry about that.

  A month later, Drake was sitting in his living room in his new home in Louisiana. The house was old, had been empty for a long time and needed some work but he only needed it for a short time. He’d be back on the field soon enough; he just knew it. The team of doctors assigned to him had decided he didn’t need surgery, just some special treatment and physical therapy, when they figured out he hadn’t dislocated his knee. They’d benched him for the summer and the beginning of the season so he’d come home to heal.

  Looking around the empty house, some old furniture still collecting dust, he decided he’d start by painting the rooms. Grabbing his keys, he went out to the garage. His boat, a motorcycle, his truck, and a sports car sat in the garage. It was going to have to be enlarged to house them all comfortably but for now, it would work. He climbed into the truck, his left knee making it difficult with the brace, but he managed it.

  He pulled out a cart at the local home improvement store and went in search of buckets of primer, paint, and accessories. Drake knew he probably should have just hired someone to do the job but he needed to keep busy. He’d just turned down an aisle searching for plastic sheets to cover the furniture and floors when he saw Bethany.

  Drake felt an ache deep in his chest as he spotted the woman, dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a camisole top of bright pink. With matching flip flops on her feet, the woman was the perfect picture of what his buddies called a MILF. He’d never admit it to her but yeah, Bethany was a total MILF, even with her hair in a messy bun. That ache moved lower, much lower.

  Her skin was tanned, her legs long and smooth, and the rest of her, wow! Drake tried to pull his eyes away from her chest but couldn’t, not until he heard a little boy giggling.

  “Mom, that’s Drake Saterlee! He’s staring at your boobies!” The little boy’s high-pitched squeal of laughter made it impossible to turn and run.

  Drake felt his
cheeks flame and he tried to walk by with a nod but the little boy ran up to him, wanting to shake his hand.

  “Hi, I’m Peter, that’s my mommy, Bethany. Her daddy dated your mommy a long time ago. You know my mommy?” Peter was a little blonde fellow with his mother’s warm brown eyes and a little bow mouth that looked just like hers. He even had her turned up nose.

  “Hiya Peter, I’m Drake. Yes, I do know your mommy. She’s a nice lady, you know.” Drake said as he crouched down to Peter’s level. The boy was a tiny male version of Bethany, that was for sure.

  “Do you have a girlfriend? My mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend.” Peter said the words without any qualms, not understanding why his mommy was making that choking noise or why she pulled him away from Drake. “But Mommy, you don’t!” he said.

  Bethany finally had to face Drake but didn’t exactly look him in the eye.

  “Um, hi again, Drake. How’s the knee?” She asked with no real concern, just cheeks as red as his.

  “It’s getting better. Thought I’d come here to recuperate. Bought that old house out on Phillips Street.”

  “What?” Bethany’s eyes had gone wide and something told him he’d just stepped in poo again.

  “Um, that old house, the two story one. Huge old monster, was probably around when this place was still a swamp and belonged to France.” He wasn’t sure why she was getting upset. “I’ve had my eye on that.” She didn’t tell him she’d been secretly saving up to put a down payment on it for two years. She knew it could happen, that someone could come along and snap it up before her but for that person to be Drake! Ugh!

  “Oh, sorry. Um, hey, Pete, are you into football? I’m going to spend some time volunteering with the tiny tot’s football team this summer. You going to be there?” Drake looked back down at Peter quickly, trying to appease his mother.

  “Peter has already signed up for his sessions with the team. He’ll be there in the evenings. I believe your sister will be taking him.” Bethany hated people calling Peter Pete. That wasn’t his name. “Are you sure that’s wise, Drake? You do have a habit of running away just when people need you the most, you know?”