Jocked Up: Sports Romance (A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance) Page 3

  Drake thought she was beautiful with her eyes sparking a challenge and her eyebrow raised, then her words sank in. She was right but the words stung. His own eyes narrowed and he looked over at Peter. His knee was starting to throb from his stance but he wasn’t going to let her see his weakness.

  “Right, then I’ll see you there kiddo.” Drake stood, holding his hand out to Peter. Peter shook hands like a tiny gentleman and ran back to his mother, pushing her own cart up the aisle in the other direction.

  “See you, Drake.” Asshole, he could all but hear the word coming from her glaring eyes. Damnit, he was on her bad side again but he wasn’t sure why. Again.

  “See you, Bethany. Take care.” Drake pushed his own cart away and actually looked forward to starting the practice with the team of little ones wanting to learn to be football players. Maybe the summer wouldn’t be so bad if it meant getting under Bethany’s skin and watching that incredible chest of hers. Yeah, she’d matured, in all the right places. He was also determined he’d show her; he’d show her he could be relied on.

  Drake went back to his house and took a shower before he did anything else. He let the cold water flow over his body. His skin was tanned, his muscles toned to perfection and as he stepped out of the shower his body glistened. Shaking the water out of his eyes, he looked into the mirror. He was in great shape, even if his knee was fucked.

  Toweling off he imagined it was Bethany’s hands holding the towel and he felt a sudden surging ache in his groin. Looking down at himself, his hand clasping his own hot flesh, he knew he had to have her. Somehow he had to change her mind and make the beautiful woman his.

  Stroking himself gently, slowly at first, his hand moved quicker and he leaned back against the cold tiled wall of the bathroom. Bracing himself, Drake allowed himself to remember the past, the way Bethany had moved beneath him, the way it felt to have her legs wrapped around his waist and the sounds she’d made as he filled her.

  With a groan of pleasure, Drake remembered her tongue sliding up his neck as he drowned in her wet depths. His chin lifted as though she were there now, her hot tongue sliding slickly up his sweat dampened skin as he plunged into her over and over again.

  He leaned back, remembering filling his hands with her ripe breasts, breasts that now appeared larger than they had even been then. He remembered the way her dark brownish-red nipples had felt in his mouth, the way she’d ground harder into him as he’d sucked at her flesh, the way her center had rippled around him suddenly as she cried out.

  He hadn’t known what was happening then but he knew now that Bethany had been coming, her muscles fluttering around him as he plunged into her. He’d just known it felt good. He responded to the memory, his breath hitching as he felt his own orgasm starting, his flesh seeming to get harder before a pulsing release jetted from him, his hand working lightly as he remembered Bethany’s eyes most of all, and just how beautiful she was, spread beneath him.

  Drake stood for a long moment after he finished, leaning against the wall, still lost in his memories. He should have never let Bethany go, that was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. But young, dumb, and full of the proverbial come he’d let her fall by the wayside, blinded by the thoughts of fame and all the money being offered to him.

  Now he knew the late nights partying, the meaningless one-night stands, and the fame couldn’t compare to having someone looking at him like Bethany had looked at him when she’d exploded in his arms. Somehow he had to get that back in his life and only she would do. He’d made a mistake long ago, now he had to find a way to make it right.

  Chapter Four

  I drove home, my anger rising as the miles passed. Drake was going to be involved with my son and when his team called him back and he had to leave, my little boy would be hurt. The whole team would be hurt. I didn’t care if those jeans he was wearing were a sin, or that they made me think of other sins, I wasn’t having it.

  I set Peter up with the model car we’d gone to the store to get glue for and went to the other end of the dining room to call Amelia. We exchanged a few pleasantries before I finally dived into the reason for my call.

  “Drake can’t coach the team Peter’s on, Amelia, I’m not having it.” I paused, waiting for my friend’s response.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Bethany? I know Drake was a jerk when we were kids and you took his actions on your date as insulting but come on. Give the guy a break! He’s grown up now, so he has a different sense of what women expect than what we’re used to, that’s not enough reason to hate him like you do. It’s not like he’s going to hurt Peter!”

  “No, not physically, but when he goes back to his team, when he walks away and leaves again for six years, what then?” I demanded to know, trying to remember that Amelia didn’t know I’d slept with Drake a long time ago, didn’t know he’d just left my bed and never bothered to even send me an email or text message.

  I had a far deeper reason to dislike Drake but I wasn’t telling Amelia about that. I couldn’t take the humiliation. Back then it had been embarrassing, I’d had a crush on the boy that was all but my step-brother, and then I’d slept with him. And then he’d left me. He’d probably laughed with his friends about how desperate I’d been. Shaking my head, I finally listened to Amelia’s words.

  “He’s going to be here until at least the fall, and the boys will all be told he’s only there temporarily. This is an opportunity for them. You’re going to deny them that over a petty dislike?”

  “Petty?” I gasped, realizing finally how I must sound to my friend. Yeah, I guess I did sound pretty petty. She didn’t know the whole story, though. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I know I am. Grow up a little, Bethany, realize that Drake was a kid back then; all that teasing was just him being the typical teenage asshole. And now, he lives in a different world from us, or he has. Give him a break!” Amelia sounded really peeved and I had to admit what she said was right.

  Teenaged boys weren’t the most reliable people, were they? Of course, teenaged girls weren’t either, even if we told ourselves we were more mature, our hormones were raging too. He hadn’t seduced me that night, we’d agreed mutually to have sex, I’d just been the one with emotions tied to it, and he hadn’t been, at all. Yeah, maybe it was time to let some of it go.

  I got off the phone with Amelia and called my dad. He’d tell me straight, either way, about how to handle this. He’d always been there for me and he would be now. Packing up the car and my son, along with his model car, I drove us out to my dad’s house, an hour away in the western part of the state. Arriving there almost felt like coming home.

  Geremy Amberson’s house wasn’t really a house though, it was a houseboat, and looked like it sounded, a square house on pontoons. A Louisiana tradition, the houseboats were often used as camps for hunting and fishing. Dad lived in his, always able to fish or hunt from his back door. With a walkway on all four sides, the house had breathtaking views and I loved sitting out there and watching the water slowly flow through the bayou.

  Peter ran straight to the room Dad had prepared for him, determined to get his car together, even if it was starting to look more like a mess of 5-year-old exuberance than a car. I smiled and watched him go. Dad offered me a beer and we sat on chairs in the back section of the houseboat, watching the sunset.

  “Well baby girl, tell me what’s brought you out to your old dad then.” I laughed and smiled over at him. Now in his sixties, my father was the male version of me that Peter was going to be when he grew up. His hair had turned white and cut a path further up his forehead, his face was lined, and he couldn’t always hear very well but this was my father. It felt good to be near him.

  “Drake’s back in town again. He’s going to be coaching Peter’s team for a while. I think he’s wanting to mend some fences with me. I’m just not sure about that.” I took a deep breath, still skirting the truth, even with my dad.

  “Ah, Drake’s come back to town finall
y?” I looked over at Dad, surprised to see a pleased smile on his face. “That ought to be interesting then.”

  “I suppose.” I didn’t try to hide my doubt.

  “Oh, it will be. It’s brought you here already, hasn’t it?” Dad looked pleased with his little joke and laughed.

  “It has indeed.” I thought about a question that had plagued me but Dad would never really answer. “Why did you and his mom split up Dad? You both seemed so happy together.”

  Dad’s face changed, sadness taking the place of his laughter. He looked away, staring out at the reds, purples, and pinks of the setting sun.

  “Things were going on, bigger things happening than us and it was for the best. It’s done now, let’s go have a look at that car my grandson is building!” Dad got up suddenly, his normal reaction to that question. I’d stopped asking ages ago but hoped I’d get a better answer now.

  “So your advice is to go with it, basically?” I prompted.

  “Sure, honey, you have to do what you think is best. That’s all I can tell you. If you want to talk to him go for it, if not, take Peter off of the team and avoid the man. It’s that simple.” I looked at my dad, a bit annoyed. That wasn’t very good advice.

  “Let’s go look at Peter’s car then.” Unsatisfied, I drank my beer and went in to find Peter happily gluing toothpicks and dried beans he’d found in a jar to his car. Oh yeah, my baby was creative.

  I drove back the next morning wondering if I was the one in the wrong here. Everybody was basically telling me to give Drake a chance. Dad was keeping Peter for a couple of weeks, wanting to teach the boy to fish and how to live off of the land. I was grateful for the break; it gave me time to work all of this out, somehow.

  Out of pure idle curiosity, I drove out of my way to ride by Drake’s house. I wanted to see how it looked now with someone living in it. Alright, it was a combination of that and I was curious about Drake, what would he do with the house? How would he renovate it? If I had to start giving him a chance, like my father was implying, then I wanted to see what I was getting myself into. Would he bring in ostentatious decorations, something that might look good in LA but would look garish here?

  I tried not to look as though I was looking at the house as I drove up to that part of the street. It sat at the end of a lane, the house stood alone, with a lot of land between it and the next house. The paint needed doing and I could see that men were already setting up to get that done. The old white paint on the structure was starting to peel off in strips and the grain of the wood was showing through in quite a few places.

  It was my dream home and he’d bought it. Sighing, I went to turn around at the end of the lane and gasped when Drake walked out of the house and waved. I knew I must have looked horrified but I smiled a fake smile and waved back. Then he motioned for me to pull into the driveway. Shit!

  I knew I was caught and this was the first step to a new Bethany. The one that gave Drake a chance. Bracing myself, I pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car. Dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white blouse with tan sandals on my feet I knew I didn’t look bad. I was grateful for that much, at least. I hadn’t put on any makeup at all, though, and wondered if he thought I looked like a ghost.

  I gave a tentative smile as he walked up to me, his own khaki shorts and grey tank top making my pulse race. The man certainly had a beautiful body. His grey eyes were smiling as he walked over and looked back at the house.

  “Not much yet, is it?” He asked, bending down to adjust a strap on his brace. “I had to hire someone to come do the painting outside; I just won’t be able to climb up and down a ladder to do it.”

  “The house is beautiful and always has been. Unless you’re going to do something crazy like paint it purple and red, there’s little you can do that would take away from the beauty of it.” I stared up at the house wistfully, wishing it was mine once more.

  “No, I think a nice new coat of white, maybe some darker shades for the trim, but a nice normal color will work just fine.” He said with a laugh. Then he turned serious for a moment. “Bethany?”

  Turning to him I felt a flutter in my stomach as he looked at me, all serious and indecisive. Then he made up his mind.

  “Won’t you give me another chance? I know I came off like a jerk the last time but if you give me a chance I swear I’ll make it up to you. Let me take you and Peter out to dinner tonight. To somewhere normal.” He ended with a laugh that made me smile in return.

  “Peter’s with his grandfather this evening, but you can take me out if you’d like?” The words were out before I could stop them and he must have guessed that because he looked shocked for a moment. He’d been expecting rejection. Oh my!

  “Great!” He said when he recovered. “Is six alright? Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

  “Yeah, I know a place. It’s mainly for grownups but some families come in. Just your average Louisiana restaurant but they make the best crawfish etouffee. You might want to wear some stretch pants.” I laughed as I started to back away, wanting to get home now. I didn’t know where this night was going to lead but I needed to be prepared for anything.

  I’d made up my mind, I was going to give him a chance. That decision seemed to have driven my hormones nuts because I was about to go home and prepare for any eventuality. Any.

  “I’ll see you then. You want me to come pick you up or do you want to meet me here?” Oh, his whole tune had changed now, I liked this Drake.

  “You can pick me up. I’ll see you at 6.” I gave a little wave, then got back into the car, smiling happily. Time for battle.

  By the time I’d created a presentable image my nerves were shot. I was starving, tired, and ready to cry into my pillow. But that would mess up the eye makeup it had taken me an hour to perfect on both eyes. Staring into the mirror, my brown eyes rimmed with black eyeliner and shimmery shadows I thought I might draw a few heads tonight. I didn’t look quite like the clown I thought I did, and the figure hugging dark brown dress that billowed out at my knees was perfect.

  The dress had been hanging in my closet for years now, bought at a clearance sale and often taken out but always put back without being worn. The deep V in the front was too revealing, I was too fluffy to wear it in public; I always had an excuse to put it back. But now was the right time, that perfect moment. I strapped a pair of brown sandals to my feet and went to sit in the living room.

  My nerves started to tense again as I waited, wondering how I’d goof up the night. I’d never actually been on a date, not like this anyway. Out for a pizza in college or to the movies with friends, but never really a date. Not even with Peter’s father. I reminded myself I taught French Immersion at school, a difficult class that required discipline and strength. I had lovely manners, everyone said so, and I knew how to hold a conversation. Drake is the one that should be panicking here, not me!

  I told myself that until I caught a glimpse of my hair in the mirror. It wasn’t that lovely warm golden honey blonde men seem to go for now, it was so pale it was almost white with a few darker shades blended into the mix naturally. Maybe I should have it colored, warmed the toned up? Then I’d look more like those Hollywood women that Drake likely dates.

  That wasn’t going to work though and just about the time I’d decided to call the whole thing off because I was making myself crazy, Drake showed up. I was almost grateful to hear the sound of his truck pulling up to the house. I escaped the quiet but familiar environment and went outside to climb into the truck. He’d been getting out to help me in but I didn’t wait, I needed out of the place.

  “Hi. Ready to go?” I looked over at the man now blinking in his seat again, a smile stretching across my face at his confusion.

  “Yeah, let’s go.” I gave directions and Drake eased out of the driveway, one of my favorite country songs easing the tension as he drove.

  I’d left my hair down so I was grateful he had the air conditioning on but the radio left little room fo
r talking. That was fine with me, music always calmed me anyway.

  I snuck little glances at him as he drove, the way his jeans hugged his thighs was inviting, making me want to run my hand along that seam. He had a very muscular body, I could tell that through his clothes. I wasn’t the most in-shape person but I kept fit enough, even if I did sometimes get on the fluffy side around my middle. My pulse started beating in my veins when a rather sultry number came on, the deep male voice singing about how he wanted to treat his woman to a night of passion one more time, giving me even more ideas. I stole a glance at the bulge nestled at the top of his thighs and instantly felt him between my legs, sliding into me.

  I’ve never been able to shake loose that memory and now an ache had started deep inside of me. I pushed it away as he pulled into the parking lot and we walked into the place. The waitress took us to a dark corner, her eyes lighting up when she saw Drake. Eat your heart out girl! This one is mine.

  Over dinner, we discussed what the future might hold for us and as one pitcher of beer turned into two our conversation became more light-hearted. Drake only had two glasses so I was well on my way to giggle-town as we discussed our memories from the past. It was when he brought up my graduation night, how proud Dad had been and how he’d told the principal to shove it when the man told him to quiet down his clapping and cheering that things turned.

  What had been happy and light-hearted, a moment of laughter, turned serious as my mind went back to the feel of Drake’s lips on mine that night. I remembered how we’d been drawn to each other, unable to move away, to fight the fire burning between us. I looked into his eyes and knew he remembered, I saw it in the way his lips parted, the way he sighed out an “oh”. I remembered the way he’d groaned when he felt my body pressing into his and my hand slid across the table as awareness snapped like static electricity. I looked into his eyes and there was only one thing I could say.