Bad Boy of Baseball (Player Loves Curves 6)

I do my best not to cry, but emotion rolls through me and I tell him huskily, “I couldn’t let you leave baseball and then hate me for the rest of our lives. I did what I thought was best. I made it all up. I wasn’t seeing someone else. I wasn’t seeing Jared Taggert. I just didn’t want you to throw away your future for me.”

He sits back and I can tell I’ve stunned him, but there’s more, and I have to get it out. I’ve lived with the guilt and I can’t do it a second longer. He gets up and starts pacing the room, looking everywhere but at me.

“There’s more,” I tell him.

His head whips around. “More?”

I nod my head and start to say it, but my voice shakes. I clear it and try again. “Yes. We have a daughter. She’s fifteen months old.”

He falls into the chair across the room and stares at me, speechless. “A daughter?”

I get up and walk across the room and grab a picture frame before bringing it to him. I hand it to him, and he takes it from me, staring at the little girl. There’s no denying she’s his. She has his dark hair and dark eyes. She has his lips and his smile.

He stares at it for the longest time, and I let him. I move back over to the couch and watch him, waiting for the wrath because I know it’s coming, and I know I deserve it.

When he finally raises his head to look at me, I can see the hurt in his face. His eyes are red rimmed, his nostrils flared. I hurt him once and it seems I’ve hurt him again. “I’m so sorry, Carter.”

He shakes his head and I can tell he doesn’t want to hear my apologies. “Why didn’t you tell me? You had no right to keep her from me.”

“I found out I was pregnant after you had already left. But when I found out, I tried to get a hold of you. Over and over. I called you until you blocked me. Your family blocked me, your agent blocked me. I couldn’t get a hold of you to tell you.”

He gets up and starts pacing the room again. “You could have told me, you could have come to a game and told me. You could have if you really wanted to.”

I take a ragged breath because I know that what I’m about to say is only going to make it worse. But I have to tell him. “I did. I came to your first game. And when I saw how happy you were, that all your dreams were coming true, I knew I couldn’t tell you, and I left.”

He takes a deep breath. “You lied to me. You’ve kept my daughter from me.” And I can’t even deny it. I can’t even put a spin on it to make it sound better. “Yes, I did.”

He shakes his head. “Is that the reason your parents disowned you? Because you were pregnant?”

I shrug my shoulders and name off all the reasons my parents were upset with me. “Pregnant. Not married. Had to quit school.” I have no emotion in my voice because I’ve had to completely forget about my family. Otherwise it’s too depressing.

He shakes his head, like he still can’t believe it. “I want to see… Fuck. I don’t even know my daughter’s name.”

He’s stopped his pacing and stops in front of me, his accusing eyes burning a hole in me. I reach for a binder on the coffee table and hand it to him. “Her name is Maggie. Maggie Lynn Arnold.”

He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that I named her after his mother. Instead, he takes the binder from me, opening it. He flips through the pages, slowly, taking it all in. There are pictures in there from the sonogram all the way to her first birthday. When he gets to the end, he slams it shut and sets it on the coffee table. “I want to see her.”

“I know. And I’m not keeping her from you. But when you meet her, I need you calm. And we need to talk about when you’re around her.”

He arrogantly crosses his arms on his chest. “What does that mean?”

“That means no drinking, no cussing, I don’t want any of your flavor of the months around her. I mean, if you ever get serious that’s one thing, but she gets attached easily…”

“What about you?” he asks me.

“I don’t drink or cuss.”

“Men.” He grits out the word like he’s chewing nails. “Do you have men around her?”

I could tell him it’s none of his business, but I answer honestly. “No. Never.”

He looks at me like he’s weighing my words. “And the strip club? What do you think she’s going to learn by you working there?”