Pitch Please (There's No Crying in Baseball 1) - Page 24

Out of all the people he could’ve called back for, he’d asked for me.

That was saying something.

Maybe he wasn’t just playing around.

Maybe—just maybe—he really was serious about me. Maybe he really did want me.

The real question was if I could let my walls down long enough to let him in.

And looking at his face, the gratitude in his eyes, I realized that I could.

I could do anything for him.Chapter 10The problem with reaching for the stars is that it leaves your balls unprotected and vulnerable. Trust me, I know. FYI – my brothers are douches.

-Hancock’s secret thoughts

Hancock

I was sitting comfortably in my La-Z-Boy recliner, my eyes closed, and Sway humming along in my kitchen when I heard it.

It was a distinct sound.

Really distinct.

The sound of keys in my door.

My eyes snapped open and I glared at the doorknob, hoping beyond hope it wasn’t who I thought it was.

But, like always, I wasn’t given the reprieve I needed.

My brothers, three out of the four of them, walked in the next moment, followed shortly by my parents.

“Oh, baby,” my momma cried as she rushed to me. “Your throat looks horrible!”

I barely resisted the urge to sigh.

She would catch it, and then she would get all hurt that I wasn’t letting her mother me like I ‘should’ be letting her. It was her God-given right, after all.

Something she told me all the time when I refused her attentions.

“I have strep throat,” I told my brothers. “I hope you all get it.”

Harrison, Holden and Hunter all stared at me.

“Where do you think you got it from, dumbass?” Harrison asked.

I gritted my teeth.

“Y’all know damn well y’all are supposed to stay the fuck away from me when you’re sick,” I growled. “This could’ve been detrimental.”

“You look like you’re running a fever right now,” my mom, Sally, frowned. “I’m going to go make you some chicken noodle soup.”

She froze when I said what I said next.

“My woman’s in there making me soup.”

She turned only her head and stared at me with frightening eyes.

“Woman?” she asked carefully.

I nodded my head, wincing when the movement caused my head to hurt even more than it was already hurting.

“When did you get a woman?” Holden asked skeptically.

“Oh,” Sway gasped in surprise. “Hello!”

I turned to find her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her eyes taking in my brothers and my parents in one long sweep.

Then without pausing, she walked into the room and over to me, setting a steaming bowl of French onion soup—her specialty, she’d assured me—on the coffee table in front of me.

“My name’s Sway,” she held her hand out to the closest brother, which happened to be Hunter.

My mom had five boys, Harrison, Holden, Hunter, Hannibal and then me. She had us all one right after the other, starting with Harrison and ending with Hannibal and I, who were identical twins.

Hannibal and I were the only ones left who weren’t married with kids. I was the only one who hadn’t experienced psycho mom when it came to my serious girlfriends because I never had serious girlfriends before.

Never wanted them.

Until Sway.

Now I wanted a lot of things, most of those things being Sway in my bed, naked underneath me.

Forever, if possible.

But I hadn’t told her that yet. I wouldn’t be. Not until she was well and truly trapped.

If it wasn’t immoral and a tad bit archaic, I’d just get her pregnant and play on her conscience to stay with me for the rest of her life.

I knew I could make her happy.

Hell, I knew she made me happy.

“Well, hello!” Hunter drawled, taking her hand in his and caressing the outside of it while he stared into her eyes. “Aren’t you pretty?”

She blushed and pulled on her hand, and my brother had no other option but to let it go or look like a creepy motherfucker.

So, he chose to let it go.

That didn’t stop him from moving closer to her.

“Hunter,” I growled. “I’ll tell Stella that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself,” I warned when Sway moved to my father.

Hunter shot me a grin, but he backed up until he hit my chair, and then slammed his hip into it.

I grunted as pain burst through my body.

“Fucker,” I grumbled, my hand going to my neck in reaction.

My mother’s eyes were glaring daggers at Sway as she moved from person to person, introducing herself.

“Isn’t it kind of rude that you’re not introducing us?” Harrison drawled from where he was standing next to my mom.

I sighed, long and loud, and turned to Sway.

“That’s my mom, Sally. My brothers, Harrison, Holden, and Hunter. And that man you’re standing next to is my pop, Drake.”

Sway’s smile was brilliant.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said genuinely. Then ruined it with a lie. “Hancock’s told me so much about you.”

I barely contained the urge to snort.

Tags: Lani Lynn Vale There's No Crying in Baseball Romance
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