The Heat Is On (18 page)

The tickertape parade celebrating the Sonics' win took place in downtown Trenton, the first event of its kind ever. Police cars and fire trucks filled the streets as the men in blue tried to maintain order and utterly failed. The New Jersey fans mobbed the city, shutting down mass transit, climbing utility poles, and shouting from the top of their cars.

Their team had won!

Tracy stood on the curb with the kids, along with her parents, watching as the Sonics, crowded onto a parade float, waved to the enthusiastic crowd below. Confetti fell from every window, and Tracy's children scooped it up with glee, tossing it into the air for a new snowfall.

She thought her heart would burst. Glancing down at the elegant engagement ring that Connor had given her the night of the win, she felt like everything in her world was utterly perfect.

Once she had announced her engagement, Jeremy seemed to get the message. He returned to his second family, stopped the threats and calls, and paid his support on time.

Her parents were thrilled. Assured that Connor's intentions were serious, her mother admitted that they were thrilled to have him as a prospective son-in-law.

And she was totally surprised when Connor announced that he had extended his contract for one more year, explaining to her that now that he had a family to raise, he wanted to ensure their future, pay for college, and provide for a comfortable retirement. Apparently, he had been utterly serious about making these children his own.

As the float rolled by, she saw him waving to the kids, and Mason shoved Chloe, pointing to the floating stage.

“There he is! There's Connor!”

“I see him!” Chloe said, giving Connor her best smile. “He's climbing down!”

Tracy looked up with a gasp and saw that her daughter was correct. Connor Jackson was climbing over the float and coming toward them as Mason grinned in delight. The crowd seemed to part like the Red Sea as he made his way to Tracy and the children. Hefting Mason on his shoulder, he hugged Chloe and Ethan, and then turned to Tracy, acknowledging her parents with a nod of his head.

“Was thinking this little guy might like to join me on the float?”

Tracy's mouth fell open, but before she could respond, Chloe and Ethan were pleading, “Me, too!”

Connor grinned. “Looks like I'm bringing the whole gang. Okay with you?”

His eyes met hers, and Tracy melted.

“Okay with me.” When he turned to look back at her, she smiled. “Thank you.”

They were a family.

Sue Grimshaw, and Erin Bosler, my secret muse!

Bring on the Heat

Too Hot to Handle

The Heat of the Moment

Some Like It Hot

A Hint of Mischief

Courting Trouble

Mistletoe and Magic
(novella)

A Case for Romance

Runaway Hearts

PHOTO: © KOVATCH PHOTOGRAPHY

Award-winning historical author K
ATIE
R
OSE
makes her contemporary debut with the Bad Boys of Baseball novels,
Bring on the Heat
and
Too Hot to Handle,
which combine Katie's true loves: baseball and romance! When not watching baseball, Katie is at her lake house in New Jersey, hard at work on her next book.

Visit the author and subscribe to her newsletter at

katieroseauthor.com

Email the author at

katieroseauthor.com/​contact/

Facebook.com/​sportsromanceauthor

@KatieRoseAuthor

Bring in the New Year with a new romance from Loveswept—all are specially written with you in mind, so I know you'll find a story that's a perfect fit.

Elisabeth Barrett returns to Briarwood, an unforgettable place where legacy and longing make dreams come true, in
The Best of Me.
USA Today
bestselling author Jamie K. Schmidt follows with the first book in her new Hawaii Heat series,
Life's a Beach,
an irresistible tale of second chances. The bad boys of baseball only get better with Katie Rose's fourth book in the Boys of Summer series,
The Heat Is On,
where a homegrown baseball star returns to snag the one that got away.
USA Today
bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly finishes her Dare to Love series with
Now and Then,
a steamy short novel of lost love, second chances, and hidden dangers.

New York Times
bestselling author Kathy Clark releases
After Love,
book one in the suspenseful Austin Heroes series. Cecy Robson's
Of Flame and Promise
kicks off a sizzling new series in the Weird Girls saga as Celia's sister Taran fights to have it all. Jessica Lemmon introduces the ultimate bad boy in
Forgotten Promises,
and Gina Gordon starts her powerful, deeply sensual series Body & Soul, where one woman discovers the courage to face life's greatest challenges in
Naked
.

Let's get sweet with
USA Today
bestselling author Laura Drewry and her latest,
Off the Hook,
part of her Fishing for Trouble series, and Zoe Dawson and her first Laurel Falls novel,
Leaving Yesterday,
for fans of small-town romance. Sidney Halston's fans will be happy to know another mixed-martial-arts story is en route with
Fighting Dirty,
and then Claire Kent has you
Taking It Off
with a male stripper—yum! Adding to this
USA Today
bestseller list is a fast MC story from Maisey Yates,
Strip You Bare.
And Sawyer Bennett is bundling her books from her
New York Times
bestselling Cold Fury Hockey series.

Looking for a few historical romances? Lavinia Kent releases a Regency favorite in
Ravishing Ruby,
Sharon Cullen brings you back to Culloden in
Sutherland's Secret,
and Pamela Labud's Hunt Club series begins with
To Catch a Lady—
all with heroes to die for.

That's it for this month—but February is bigger and better than ever before. Hope to see you soon.

~Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher

by Katie Rose

Available from Loveswept

“So how does it feel to be home?”

Logan Hart stretched out his legs in front of him and reached for his beer with one hand, using the other to smooth back a recalcitrant blond curl from his forehead. The noise level in PJ Whelihan's Pub seemed to have gone up a few decibels within the hour, but he still managed to understand his teammate's question.

“Home in the U.S.? New Jersey? Or Cherry Hill?” He gave Sergio Torres a laconic grin even as he gestured to the waitress for another round.

Logan got her attention immediately. At twenty-seven years old, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, it was impossible to miss his ripped body, megawatt smile, and bulging biceps. And as a Major League soccer player with the New Jersey Hurricanes, his chiseled features would have given David Beckham a run for his money, and his crystal blue eyes were the downfall of more than one female.

But even more appealing than that, Logan Hart naturally assumed an air of detachment as if observing the scene around him from a distance, but not being personally involved. It was a quality that served him well on the field, enabling him to keep a cool head regardless of what went on around him.

And in life.

“It was tough leaving Italy,” he continued. “Beautiful scenery, fantastic food, gorgeous women…Not that we don't have that here. The women, I mean.” He sent the waitress an appreciative glance as she put the drinks on the table, and she gave him a flirty smile in return.

“The girls in Milan are stunning,” Sergio agreed, his gaze following the waitress, and making no attempt to hide the fact that he was checking out her ass. “It's been a long time since I've been there, but I remember. You were gone what, two or three years?”

“This time.” Logan hid a shudder as his teammate shoved a mountain of chips into his mouth and washed them down with the beer. “The Hurricanes loaned me to Italy as part of my training last season. But when I was a kid and my dad realized I wanted to play professional soccer, he insisted I learn in Europe as well as here, since football is their obsession. So I also lived in Germany and England, and played there, too.”

“Did you get homesick?”

“Yeah,” Logan admitted. “It's funny the things you miss. TV. Nachos. The NFL. When it got bad, I would call my parents, or my kid sister, Jessica. That helped a lot. And I would come back in between, usually over break so it wasn't too disruptive. But I wound up missing everything here, and everybody. Except you.” He delivered a big grin.

“Pussy,” Sergio shot back, returning the smile. “Although our scoring average went way down while you were away. So I guess you are good for something.”

They continued to banter back and forth, trading insults and indulging in beer, nachos, and wings. Neither of them noticed a young woman pushing her way through the crowd, carrying an infant in a baby seat on her arm like an oversize purse. She seemed to hone in on the soccer players as if by radar, narrowly missing a waitress carting a tray full of platters.

When she reached the soccer players' table, she stopped as if having arrived at her destination, and her eyes fell on Logan.

“Logan Hart. It's been a long time.”

Logan glanced up at the female before him, his lazy glance taking in her too-tight jeans, halter top, and CFM heels, all of which were distinctly at odds with the baby chair. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a saucy ponytail, and big silver hoops danced from her ears. She wore entirely too much makeup, and there was a hardness about her that belied her youth.

“Yeah?” Logan sat up, his eyes narrowing. There was something vaguely familiar about this girl, a not so distant memory that niggled in his mind…Then it came to him.

Last spring. Winter break. Just before he went back to Europe.

She'd been a brunette then; the hair had momentarily thrown him. They'd met at a bar after practice, when the other guys had gone home. And although casual sex wasn't his thing, he'd been lonely and had wanted that connection, that comfort that only the feel of a woman could bring. And he knew he was going away again, to a foreign country where he always felt out of place…

“Dez?” His brows lifted as the fluid memory solidified. Backseat of his Chevy. Hot, wet, satisfying sex. Desiree's shirt rolled up to her neck, her skirt to her waist in the dashboard light as he pounded her…

“Glad to see you remember me. That makes things easier.” There was an edge to her voice, as if he'd done something wrong. Sergio shot him a look and he shrugged, as if to say,
What the fuck?

As if in response, she plopped the plastic baby seat on the center of the table between the wings and the nachos. Inside he caught a glimpse of a slumbering infant clad in a pink romper with little hearts on it. Rust-colored curls sprung out of her head, and a rosebud mouth pursed as she dreamed.

“Her name is Cinnamon. You know, like the song?”

“Cinnamon Girl.” He heard the tune in his head as he peered curiously at the baby. He was still puzzled, though a buzzing was beginning to start deep inside his brain. This baby looked to be about three months old, and there was something around the eyes…

“And?” Logan looked directly at the woman facing him, her hands on her hips.

“I thought soccer guys weren't stupid like most athletes,” she sneered. “I guess I have to spell it out for you. She's yours.”

A pregnant pause followed her words. Anger rushed through Logan, but he didn't betray his emotions with even a tic of his jaw. Instead, he took a long pull of his beer, set it down away from the baby, and returned her stare.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Now her smile was triumphant as she pulled a thick envelope out of her purse and tossed it in his direction. “See for yourself. I figured you'd try this shit, so I came prepared. It's a paternity suit.”

Logan shoved the envelope away from him unopened, took another sip of beer, and then glanced once more at the baby. “There's no way in hell she's mine,” he continued grimly. “First of all, I use protection. Always.”

“Think again.” Her dark eyes flashed. “My doctor told me that condoms are only eighty-five percent effective. I guess you can say we're the lucky fifteen.”

“This means nothing,” he said, indicating the envelope before him. “There's been no DNA test. You could point to any guy and say that.”

“The judge will order one if you contest this,” she snapped.

She had an answer for everything.

He contemplated the baby even as Sergio got up, mumbling something about getting the pitcher refilled. Damned if she wasn't cute, with a thatch of red hair springing from her head as she yawned, oblivious to the drama.

A redhead. Just like his sister, Jessica.

And although he didn't believe a word of this, he sort of felt sorry for the child, with a mother like Desiree.

“So what is it you want?” He waited for the demands for support, having no doubt that this woman Googled him when she found herself pregnant. She probably assumed he was pulling down millions and could easily afford to throw a few bucks her way.

But her next words actually stunned him.

“I'm leaving her with you. I've taken care of her up until now, but it's not working out. I have a job, I can't afford a sitter, and a guy like you has a lot more resources to handle shit like this. She's all yours.”

Sergio returned just in time to hear the last part. The glass pitcher of beer went crashing to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.

Logan shot him a glance. So his normally glib buddy was dumbstruck? Imagine how he was fucking feeling. This woman he barely remembered was talking about dumping a baby on him!

His gaze returned to Desiree. “If this is some kind of joke, I'm not laughing.”

“It's not. I can't take care of her, and you can. It's that simple.”

He was beginning to realize she meant it. Was she crazy? What kind of woman did something like this? Panic was beginning to replace incredulity. How the hell could he take care of a baby? He didn't know the first thing about caring for kids, especially the pint-sized package stirring on the table.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to try logic.

“In case you haven't heard, I have a full-time occupation. I travel all over the country, sometimes the world. Even if she was mine, I'm in no position to take her on. So you've had your good time at my expense. I suggest you leave before I get pissed.”

But Desiree seemed prepared for this also, and unloaded a quilted bag slung over her shoulder. “I've written down all of the instructions. How often she eats, her doctor's phone number, everything you need. There's some bottles of formula inside, along with some diapers and clothes. The hospital gave me a number for a visiting nurse if you need help, or have questions. Good-bye, Logan.”

There was something inscrutable in her eyes as she glanced one last time at her daughter. Regret? But to his astonished disbelief, she turned on her heels and started for the door.

Logan leaped out of his seat and went after her, weaving his way through the dozens of families who came in for the drinks and the kid-friendly food.

But when he charged outside and looked frantically around the parking lot, he didn't see Desiree anywhere. A few seconds later, he heard the screech of a car backing out of the lot, and a red Cruise whipped past him to the highway.

Fuck! Logan saw her at the last possible moment. At least he had the presence of mind to pull out his phone and click a picture of the license plate.

She was driving a Chevy, of course.

His first impulse had been to call the police. Logan had picked up his cell and actually started to punch in the number when he froze. Inexplicably, he felt a cold sweat break out and a vague sense of nausea burn in his gut.

If he involved the authorities, what would happen? He wasn't sure, but he guessed that they would take the baby away, put her into foster care until they got this mess straightened out.

And for some reason, that bothered the shit out of him. He felt fiercely protective of this little being, even in the short time he'd known her. So in spite of Sergio's surprise and amusement, he picked up the baby, paid the check, and brought her home to his elegant condominium.

But as he headed up the elevator, the enormity of it all was beginning to dawn on him. How was he going to manage until he found Desiree?

The little girl yawned in her sleep, blissfully unaware that her fate was in the hands of a guy who ordered takeout five days a week, had a housekeeper who did his laundry and cleaned his place, and a personal assistant who kept his calendar and reminded him of his dentist appointment.

When he entered the condo, Logan put the baby on the brown leather sofa, and then dropped the quilted bag on the floor beside her. In the middle of the massive couch, she looked so little, so feminine in her pink romper, and so utterly out of place in the masculine surroundings that he almost smiled.

Except that there was nothing funny about this situation.

Now what? He remembered Desiree saying something about instructions, and he fished them out of the bag she'd given him. Feedings every four hours? Burping and diaper changes, vitamins, a pediatrician's card, a sleep schedule, and records of shots? Rummaging inside the sack again, he saw a couple of changes of clothing, some diapers, wipes, and a few more bottles of premixed formula.

Logan sank down on the sofa beside the baby, completely overwhelmed.

He needed help. Much as he hated the idea of asking, and letting anyone in on the details of his personal life, he knew he had no choice. It wasn't like he had just inherited a kitten. This was a human being who required care, food, and God knows what else.

Logan toyed with the idea of calling his mother, but winced as he envisioned her reaction, especially if she thought this was her first granddaughter. She would be all over the baby, and all over him to keep her.

Relief washed through him as he had a better idea, and he pulled out his cell and punched a number.

“Hey, Logan.” Jessica, his sister, answered after a couple of rings.

“Baby girl.” He used her nickname, one guaranteed to annoy her, but as he looked at the infant slumbering beside him, he knew there was now a new baby girl.

Cinnamon.

“I am not—”

“I know.” Logan cut her off. “Listen, I need your help.”

Something in his tone caught her attention and she lost the 'tude. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” he said flatly. “A girl I had a one-night stand with last year just dumped a baby on me. Says she's mine.”

He wasn't sure what he thought his sister would say; maybe she would offer suggestions or sympathy? What he didn't expect was a sound he heard a moment later that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“Did you just say—”

“Yeah.” His voice was sharper than he intended. “What part of ‘a girl dumped a baby on me' didn't you understand?”

“I'm sorry, Logan. It's just…”

Laughter. Jessica was rolling, giggling so hard she couldn't talk.

He almost hung up on her, but she, with considerable effort, calmed herself enough to continue the conversation.

“I'm sorry. It's just…you and a baby. So what are you going to do?”

“Track her down,” he said flatly. “I don't know why she pulled this stunt. I plan to get to the bottom of this, find out who the real father is. But until then, I've got a baby.” He couldn't help glance into the seat on the couch.

“Have you considered…you know, calling the authorities?”

That sickness in his gut returned. “I don't want her in a foster home,” he said determinedly. “Even though I don't believe for a second she is mine, I'd rather straighten things out first, make sure she is in good hands.”

“Okay.” Jessica exhaled. “Then you know you're going to need diapers, wipes, formula, filtered water, and a place for the baby to sleep. I'm coming over, and I'll stop by the store on the way. And there's one more thing you're going to need to do ASAP.”