Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances (54 page)

BOOK: Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances
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Jace

 

Taking a deep breath, I hit the green button on my phone and wait for the call to connect. I pace back and forth across the living room, coming to a stop when he answers.

“Hey, Mike, it’s Jace Richards.”

The line is silent and I look at my phone to see if the call got dropped. It didn’t and his laughter booms in my ear. “Jace Richards, how the hell are ‘ya, man? I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

I try to laugh along with him. “Nope, I’m still around.” I make small talk with the former athletic trainer for the New York Aces baseball team. Earl got nervous about having players throw games for him so he enlisted the help of Mike to play a different angle by working players during their injuries instead of giving them time off. Mike was just as twisted as Earl and there for a while so was I.

The conversation comes to a lull and I decide to dive into the real reason I called. “I found out that Earl has been blackmailing some other players and it wasn’t just me.”

There’s a long pause and then Mike says, “Yeah, I knew that.”

“I’ve been researching the names I have and trying to figure out a way to get them to come clean. I know it’s a long shot but if Earl is blackmailing enough of us, maybe the commissioner will hear me out and possibly let me back in the league.”

Mike chuckles on the other end and I hold the phone away from my ear it’s so loud. “It’s a good thought, Richards, but you really think any of them are going to come forward? They all saw what happened to you and don’t want any part of that shit.”

I sigh, dropping in the Lazy Boy recliner and pinching my nose. “You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“The only way to bring Earl Floyd down is to have him admit to it himself.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that, Mike?” The sliver of hope I was holding on to is slowly slipping further and further away.

“I don’t know, brother, I’m not the one trying to make my way back into the limelight, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Give me a call if you need anything.”

I end the call and lean back, closing my eyes. Do I even want to pitch again in the majors? Is it worth all this stress? What’s to say I won’t fall back into my old habits of being a cocky bastard? My phone jingles with a text message and when I look to see who it’s from, a smile crosses my face. Her, she’s the reason I won’t fall into my old ways.

Grey & Sam wanted to know if you were up for an extra practice.

I type back, letting her know I’ll be by in twenty minutes to pick them up. Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I grab my hat and look for my keys. It’s been a couple weeks since Laurel and I shared our dark moments with each other and neither of us have talked about it since. In fact, I haven’t even been alone with her and the boys having “extra practices” is the only way our paths cross outside of games and team practices. Of course, when I bring them home, we usually stand in the driveway chatting for at least an hour about anything and everything irrelevant. For instance, I’ve learned that Laurel despises hockey, she can quote almost every line from
The Sandlot
, and her fridge is always stocked with Angry Orchard Hard Cider. Simple, safe facts where neither of us divulge too much and risk putting ourselves out there only to get hurt.

My key ring shines in the sunlight on the front hall table. Sitting beside them is the envelope that Camila gave me from Bill Walker, president of Netsport. Deciding not to wait any longer, I tear it open and a check for a substantial amount stares back at me. The memo line simply says “thanks.” My first instinct is to tear it up because it’s dirty money but then a lightbulb goes off in my head. I walk to the SUV, pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing Camila on speakerphone. Adrenaline pumps quickly through my body as I wait for her to pick up and pull onto the main road.

“Camila Lemos.”

“Cam!” I almost yell into the phone.

“Jace? What’s wrong?” Her voice switches from business to panic mode.

“Fuck, nothing. Come on, give me the benefit of the doubt every now and then.”

“Fine, I’m sorry. What’s going on?”

“Just hear me out, okay? I should’ve told you all of this sooner but I didn’t see the point.” Quickly, I reiterate everything I’ve found out thus far and end with the connection I just made. “Ask Bill, he knows about this.”

“Jace, that story is pretty farfetched, especially that Bill knew about all of this. I mean, he could get in big trouble if he didn’t report this to the commissioner.”

“I’m not trying to bring Bill down, or any of these other players. Look, Cam, all I’m asking is for Bill to set up a meeting with Earl. I’ll surprise him and try to record him admitting to it. Then all I ask is that you get the commissioner to listen to it. That’s it, Cam, I promise.”

She scoffs on the other end. “That’s all, huh? Accuse my boss of illegal betting and ask the commissioner to reconsider reinstating you? That sounds like an easy day’s work.”

I sigh. “Camila, please.” My voice reeks of desperation.

“Fine, Jace, I’ll see what I can do but I’m not making any promises.”

I pull the SUV in Laurel’s driveway. The boys are playing catch in the front yard while she watches from the front steps. When she sees my car, her lips turn up into a grin and she waves. Excited to see all of them, I turn the car off.

“Thank you, Camila.”

I never thought I’d pitch in MLB again but there’s a chance, a very small one, but still, a chance that it might be a reality soon enough. The old me wanted it for selfish reasons but now I want it to show Laurel I’m not the person the media’s made me out to be.

 

Laurel

 

I can see his smile while he’s still in his car and my heart picks up the pace. The boys immediately drop what they’re doing, eagerly awaiting his attention. It’s nice having them around when the baseball god himself is in proximity because I know things will never go too far. Jace unfolds from the car and it’s hard not to laugh at the way he has to cram himself in the ancient, tiny vehicle.

He greets the boys, telling them to get buckled up and then he makes his way over to me. “Hey there, Hot Shot. You going to come today?”

My cheeks flush at his nickname from the day I hurled a ball at him. “Not today, I’ve got a project I’m working on that will be much easier to complete without the boys around.”

Jace cocks his eyebrow, showing interest in what I said. “Oh? What’s that?”

I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “I got some pallets from the hardware store and I’m going to attempt to make them into a table.”

His face falls and he frowns. “When’d you come by the store? I didn’t see you.”

“Didn’t know I was supposed to ask for you.”

Jace closes the space between us and leans down, whispering in my ear, “You’re
always
supposed to ask for me.”

His warm breath is on my ear and he’s melting away yet another set of panties. His rough, calloused fingers squeeze my hips and his lips press against my cheek. “I’ll have them back in a couple hours.”

Without waiting for a response, he turns and I just nod, a lump in my throat forcing me to stay silent. Before he drives away, he winks in my direction and I about faint. What the hell is wrong with me? I can be around a good-looking man and not become a puddle of infatuation. As much as I can’t stand my ex-husband, he’s not lacking in the looks department and aside from a few times that we hooked up after the divorce the first couple years, I’m immune to his pretty boy looks.

So why can’t I be the same way with Jace Richards? He’s nice, my kid likes him, but I don’t know what his plan is, how long he’ll be in town, or hell, if he’s even a good guy, although everything he does proves him to be. I ponder these thoughts as I walk around back and about pee myself when I see Ashley standing in my backyard.

She laughs at her ability to sneak up on me and claps her hands. Once she gets ahold of herself, she looks at me with big eyes. “Damn, woman, you look like you might pass out. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing in my backyard?”

“Well, our backyards touch so when I saw you setting up your little project, I figured you might need some tools that you don’t have.” She clears her throat and fake coughs, muttering, “None.”

She’s right, I only own a hammer and one flathead screwdriver. I’m constantly raiding Kurtis’ toolbox when I know he’s not home. One mortifying incident long ago and now I forever avoid being alone with him. Snatching the toolbox out of her hand, I roll my eyes.

“You know, I bet Jace has his own tools. Maybe you could ask him to help you because let’s be honest, there’s no way in hell you’re going to finish this.” Ashley takes a seat and kicks her legs up on the chair across from her.

“Whatever, I will finish it and what’s Jace’s tools have to do with any of this?” I avoid her stare, knowing she can read right through me.

“Come on, Laur, you saw this on Pinterest and thought it looked easy. You’ll get to step four and say ‘fuck it’ and this project will join all the others in the DNF graveyard in your garage.”

I glance over at her and she’s smirking. I open my mouth to disagree then I look at the tutorial I printed out and drop the toolbox on the ground. I lift her feet out of the chair and sit down across from her, placing her legs in my lap.

“You’re probably right.” My fingers pull at the hem of my shirt. “And Jace? What’s he have to do with it?”

“He spends enough time in your driveway, you might as well put him to good use. Next time he drops the boys off after ‘extra practice,’ tell him to bring his tools and build this shit for you.”

My cheeks burn and I feel slightly guilty that I haven’t talked to her about Jace, but there’s really nothing to tell. Ashley nudges me with her foot so that I’ll look up at her.

“You like him, don’t you?”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Ash, we’re not in middle school.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Thank god because the things you want to do to him are not appropriate for a middle school student.”

I twist her pinkie toe and laugh. “Ashley! I can’t believe you said that!”

“Hey, that hurt!” She shrugs, acting nonchalant about the whole thing. “Don’t pretend that you don’t want to see him shirtless, sweat rolling down his back as he swings his hammer and you imagine—”

“Stop!” I giggle, my skin on fire from embarrassment. “Fine, yes, I like him, but that’s it. It’s just a crush that I’m not going to act on.”

Ashley’s bottom lip juts out. “Why not?”

“For starters, I barely know the guy.”

She rolls her eyes. “For Pete’s sake, Laurel, I’m not telling you to marry the man. I’m suggesting you go on a date, hang out
without
the kids around, maybe even get laid. We all know you could use that…” She mutters that last part under her breath. As much as I want to hate her for saying those things, I know she’s only doing it out of love, it’s the kind of twisted friendship that we have.

“I wouldn’t even know what to do on a date or without the boys around. Things are safe now, I don’t want to change anything.”

“Invite him to the Memorial Day party at our house. I’ll make sure you get some time alone with him and that way, I can admire the baseball god’s body in the pool, too.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Some days you are just too much. You know that, right?”

My best friend stands up, patting my shoulder. “That’s why you love me,” she says in a sing-song voice. And I do love her so I know she wouldn’t steer me in the wrong direction… would she?

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 13

Jace

 

“So, Richards, bang any locals yet?”

I glance up from where I’m kneeling to stock the bottom shelves with cans of paint. A permanent ache rests in my lower neck from doing this almost daily. Swirling my head in a circle to try to work out the kinks, I answer my boss, “That’s not really my thing.”

Buddy Dunn crosses his arms over his pregnant sized beer belly and leans against the shelf. I go back to my work so I don’t say something I’ll regret. I swear he makes me reorganize the shelves every day just because he can.

“Open your eyes, man! You think hot women usually hang out at a hardware store? I haven’t seen them in here since that shades of Grey movie came out. Business is booming and all because they have eye candy to stare at.” Buddy glances over his shoulder as a blonde walks by and waves her fingers. “Mmm…maybe we could work together. I’ll tell them I’m weeding out the bad ones so they have to get with me before you’ll even touch them.”

My head snaps up, utterly disgusted at his suggestion. “Aren’t you fuckin’ married, man?”

He shrugs and drops his arm, looking a bit sheepish. “It was just an idea…”

“Well, keep your fuckin’ ideas to yourself. I’m not here to screw the whole town, I’m just trying to get my life back in order.”

I walk around him and head down another aisle. As I move across the main part of the store, I notice at least five women meandering around the store, each of them ‘casually’ looking in my direction. Shaking my head, I pull boxes off the shelf and begin to stack them so as to hide their view of me.

BOOK: Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances
12.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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