Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) (24 page)

BOOK: Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2)
4.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

N
IKKI

 

6 MONTHS LATER

 

T
HE STADIUM ROARED
on all sides, creating a wall of sound to greet the Ravens as they took the field on Opening Day. I rose to my feet and screamed for Braden as he trotted from the dugout and gave me a wide smile.

“Is it always this hot?” My mother clicked open an ornate pink fan.

“It’s springtime. Perfect baseball weather.”

The Opening Day magic floated in the air, brightening the grass, giving the sky a little extra blue, and making a World Series season seem possible. The baseball gods smiled as the players got ready to begin the inning.

I brought my gaze back down to the player who stole my heart. Braden kicked up some dirt at home plate as the first batter for the Sentinels took some practice swings.

“Hey, catcher! Go easy on those knees.” Kasey cupped her hands around her mouth. “You’ll have to use them later when you take a big ol’ Easton-dog right in your kisser!”

I turned and gave her a pointed glare, then glanced to my family and back to her.

She shrugged. “What?”

Mom covered her face with her fan and shook her head.

“Oh, come on, Cat. It’s all in good fun.” Dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She peeked over her fan as Braden waved at me and then gave Kasey the finger.

I laughed, joy bubbling inside me at how natural he looked on the field. His rehab had gone well, and his MCL had healed without any lingering pain or problems. Today was the test, though—the first full game since he was pulled last season. I’d done some extra bedazzling on my tank top and shorty shorts with his number, and I’d forced Kyrie into wearing my bedazzled gifts, too. We were the team’s number one fans, and we bore bedazzled proof.

“Ball parks never change. It smells the same way it did when I was twelve years old.” Ben looped his arm across the back of Kasey’s chair. “What do you think, Kase? Are the Ravens going to bring this game home?”

“Not with shitnuts as catcher and cuntflaps as pitcher, no.” She grinned, tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, and caught it in her mouth.

“Come on. Why so little faith?” Ben had a crush on Kasey since they first met over Christmas break. He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t into men. It was kind of cute, if doomed.

“Have you ever heard of a little something called a jinx?” Kasey slapped him on the side of his head. “I’m not going to say what I really think lest the baseball gods come down on us. So just agree with me that we’re fucked.”

“Totally fucked.” He nodded.

The umpire yelled to get the game going, and the crowd roared with approval. My stomach twisted in a knot as Braden hunkered down behind the plate and Parham took the mound.

“How long do you think it will take for them to score a goal?” My mom stowed her fan and pulled out her phone.

“Mom, pay attention. This is important to me.” I took my seat next to her. “And to Braden.”

Braden had managed to smooth over the ruffled feathers from his first meeting with my parents. We’d spent the Christmas break in Florida at my parents’ house. He’d charmed them with his baseball tales to the point that even Mom warmed to him. It didn’t hurt that she’d discovered the number of zeroes attached to the end of his salary as starting catcher for the Ravens. I hadn’t heard so much as a peep from her about Carter since the incident outside the restaurant.

“And please don’t ever say ‘score a goal’ in the ballpark ever again.” My dad’s eyes were bright and focused on the game.

“Or whatever it is they do.” She waved her hand at the batter who swung and missed on his first pitch.

Braden threw the ball back to Parham and squatted back behind the plate. Two more strikes, and the hitter was out.

It was an almost even game for the first few innings. But in the sixth, when Braden knocked in two runs with a shot down the first base line, the Ravens went up by four. The stadium relaxed, though opening day excitement still maintained a hum of adrenaline.

“I’m going to get some more beer.” Kasey stood during the seventh inning stretch. “Anyone want?”

Ben scrambled to his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

Kasey put a hand to his chest. “No thanks. Your trouser snake will scare away all the pussy. I can’t have you cramping my game.”

Mom slapped Kasey’s leg. “Honestly. Do you
really
have to be so vulgar all the time?”

Kasey smirked. “Yeah, pretty much. So, you feeling a Bud, Mrs. Graves?”

Mom sighed. “I’ll have a Stella in a nice glass. If they don’t have a nice glass, make sure whatever they put it in is clean.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll spit shine it myself if I have to.” Kasey took the stadium steps two at a time, and Ben sank down next to me.

I patted his knee. “It’s never going to happen. You know this, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He trained his eyes on Parham, whose arm was starting to fade.

“Kasey is a poon-hound. Trust me. Remember when she groped my tits on national TV?”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “That was pretty funny.”

“That’s who she is. You aren’t going to change her. Trust me.”

“I guess you’re right. She’s just so …”

“Not for you.” I kept my tone emphatic.

“I got it loud and clear. I have plenty of other prospects.” He shrugged. “Kasey isn’t the only poon-hound around here.”

I pretended to vomit. “Yick.”

Kyrie jumped up and darted to the net. “Easton’s coming out!”

“I knew he liked the cock all along.” Kasey had returned and handed a beer to my mother.

She took a big swig of her own and smacked Kyrie on the ass as she walked past.

Kyrie shot her a glare. “You know what I mean.”

Braden stood and ran out to the mound to greet him. But halfway there, he took an odd step. My breath caught in my throat. I watched in horror as he collapsed, his knee giving way. Mom clutched my hand.

“Shit.” Kasey drew out the word as Easton ran to Braden.

Easton hit the turf and felt around on Braden’s knee as his teammates began to draw in closer. I couldn’t blink, my eyes riveted on Braden as he gripped his knee and rolled back and forth. The Coach came from the dugout and called time while he went to investigate.
Please no, please no, please God no.

The Coach bent over and had a word before backing away and talking to the ump. Easton got to his feet, then helped Braden onto his good leg. He hobbled a few steps, until Easton scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder.

Instead of walking to the dugout, Easton carried him to the wall at the edge of the net. I dashed over and pushed through the fans with Kyrie right behind me. My eyes watered as Easton set Braden down on his good leg.

Leaning over the brick wall, I saw the tears in his eyes. Then he fell, dropping to his knee. Easton followed him down, both of them sobbing, their faces turned toward the grass.

“Oh my God, is it that bad?” I put a hand to my mouth.

“It’s really bad, Nik.” Braden’s voice shook.

I clenched my eyes shut as dread washed through me. Had the MCL finally pulled all the way free?

“A game changer.” Easton slapped Braden on the back.

“A show stopper. All over, man. For the both of us.”

They reached into their pockets.

My brain couldn’t process it. Why were they on their knees and holding velvet ring boxes? The crowd around me began to titter and yell, and then the entire stadium started cheering as my shocked face was broadcast on the giant monitors. Kyrie gripped my elbow as we both stared down at the tricksters in the grass holding diamond rings.

“Fuckbags been running a game on us.” Kasey leaned on the brick wall to get a better view of Braden and Easton and the rings they offered. “Nice hardware, though. Someone with
excellent
taste must have helped pick them out.” She gave a self-satisfied smirk.

I swallowed hard, and Kyrie began to tremble at my side.

Easton grinned. “Kyrie—”

Braden grinned even bigger. “Nikki—”

In unison they asked, “Will you marry me?”

Sign up for our newsletters to be the first to know about new releases and giveaways (no spam, just goodies).

Celia Aaron’s Newsletter

Sloane Howell’s Newsletter

 

Dark Romance by Celia Aaron

 

S
INCLAIR

The Acquisition Series, Prologue

Sinclair Vinemont, an impeccable parish prosecutor, conducts his duties the same way he conducts his life--every move calculated, every outcome assured. When he sees something he wants, he takes it. When he finds a hint of weakness, he capitalizes. But what happens when he sees Stella Rousseau for the very first time?

 

C
OUNSELLOR

The Acquisition Series, Book 1

In the heart of Louisiana, the most powerful people in the South live behind elegant gates, mossy trees, and pleasant masks. Once every ten years, the pretense falls away and a tournament is held to determine who will rule them. The Acquisition is a crucible for the Southern nobility, a love letter written to a time when barbarism was enshrined as law.

Now, Sinclair Vinemont is in the running to claim the prize. There is only one way to win, and he has the key to do it—Stella Rousseau, his Acquisition. To save her father, Stella has agreed to become Sinclair’s slave for one year. Though she is at the mercy of the cold, treacherous Vinemont, Stella will not go willingly into darkness.

As Sinclair and Stella battle against each other and the clock, only one thing is certain: The Acquisition always ends in blood.

 

M
AGNATE

The Acquisition Series, Book 2

Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition. 

 

S
OVEREIGN

The Acquisition Series, Book 3

The Acquisition has ruled my life, ruled my every waking moment since Sinclair Vinemont first showed up at my house offering an infernal bargain to save my father’s life. Now I know the stakes. The charade is at an end, and Sinclair has far more to lose than I ever did. But this knowledge hasn’t strengthened me. Instead, each revelation breaks me down until nothing is left but my fight and my rage. As I struggle to survive, only one question remains. How far will I go to save those I love and burn the Acquisition to the ground?

 

Sports Romance by Celia Aaron

 

Kicked

 

Trent Carrington.

Trent Mr. Perfect-Has-Everyone-Fooled Carrington.

He

s the star quarterback, university scholar, and happens to be the sexiest man I

ve ever seen. He shines at any angle, and especially under the Saturday night stadium lights where I watch him from the sidelines. But I know the real him, the one who broke my heart and pretended I didn

t exist for the past two years.

I

m the third-string kicker, the only woman on the team and nothing better than a mascot. Until I

m not. Until I get my chance to earn a full scholarship and join the team as first-string. The only way I’ll make the cut is to accept help from the one man I swore to never trust again. The problem is, with each stolen glance and lingering touch, I begin to realizing that trusting Trent isn

t the problem. It

s that I can

t trust myself when I

m around him.

 

 

Short Sexy Reads by Celia Aaron

 

A Stepbrother for Christmas

The Hard and Dirty Holidays

 

Annalise dreads seeing her stepbrother at her family’s Christmas get-together. Niles had always been so nasty, tormenting her in high school after their parents had gotten married. British and snobby, Niles did everything he could to hurt Annalise when they were younger. Now, Annalise hasn’t seen Niles in three years; he’s been away at school in England and Annalise has started her pre-med program in Dallas. When they reconnect, dark memories threaten, sparks fly, and they give true meaning to the “hard and dirty holidays.”

 

Bad Boy Valentine

The Hard and Dirty Holidays

 

Jess has always been shy. Keeping her head down and staying out of sight have served her well, especially when a sexy photographer moves in across the hall from her. Michael has a budding career, a dark past, and enough ink and piercings to make Jess’ mouth water. She is well equipped to watched him through her peephole and stalk him on social media. But what happens when the bad boy next door comes knocking?

Other books

Astray by Emma Donoghue
Never Kiss the Clients by Peters, Norah C.
Mayan Blood by Theresa Dalayne
A Texas Hill Country Christmas by William W. Johnstone
Say Yes to the Duke by Kieran Kramer