The Heat Is On

The Heat Is On
is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A Loveswept eBook Original

Copyright © 2016 by Colleen Bosler

Excerpt from
Hard to Hold
by Katie Rose copyright © 2016 by Colleen Bosler

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

L
OVESWEPT
is a registered trademark and the
L
OVESWEPT
colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book
Hard to Hold
by Katie Rose. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

eBook ISBN 9781101882603

Cover design: Georgia Morrissey

Cover photograph: FXQuadro/Shutterstock

readloveswept.com

v4.1_r1

ep

He was home.

Connor Jackson stepped off the charter plane at the Philadelphia airport. A tired looking man with a Phillies cap barely looked up from the information booth, and when Connor asked him where to pick up a rental car, he simply shrugged and pointed to a sign that said “Ground Transportation.”

The men's room was less than desirable, and although the airport had recently added quite a few shops and restaurants, they weren't the gleaming facilities that he'd seen in other states, like Minnesota, with iPads on every table and the retail help all bearing permanent smiles.

But Connor didn't care. Even when a woman dressed in head-to-toe spandex pushed him out of the way to get her bag, he had to smile. This was, after all, Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Shove.

And it was real.

Pausing at the newsstand for a local paper, he proffered his two dollars in exchange for a copy of the
Philadelphia Inquirer
. The cashier glanced up at him, did a double take, and then gave him a broad smile.

“Say, aren't you that new catcher coming to New Jersey?” When he nodded, she slapped her hand on the countertop with fingers lifted as if careful not to break her gel nails. “Damn. I knew it! Wait till my peeps hear this.” Immediately she got on her cell phone to tweet.

Grinning, Connor tucked the newspaper under his arm and he made his way to the shuttle waiting outside. The young guy standing beside the vehicle greeted him as if he'd known him forever.

“Hey, Con Man! I heard you were coming to the Sonics!” As he opened the door with a flourish, he continued his chatter. “Glad to have you here. That was rough, what happened to Jonesy.”

“Yeah.” He wasn't surprised that the man knew every detail of the trade. After all, Philadelphia was known for passionate sports fans. “No one ever likes to think of a player getting hurt. Especially someone as talented as Cody Jones.”

The driver refused to let Connor handle his own luggage but insisted on placing it carefully in the rear as if it were filled with precious cargo.

“That pitcher hit him on purpose,” his new friend expounded, his face getting red at the thought. “He knew his bat was hot. Probably thought if he could just get rid of him, and somehow deal with Gavin, he'd be a hero. Asshole.”

“Maybe.” He didn't tell him that it was very unlikely that the catcher was deliberately hurt; he wasn't up for the animated argument that would follow. Instead he slid into the passenger seat and the shuttle battled its way out of the airport.

“By the way, my name is Joey Angelino.” The man gave Connor a fist pump. “So I gotta know. Why'd you come here instead of New York?”

Connor grinned, hearing the pride in the man's voice and utter awe. Even though Philadelphia was recently rated by US News as one of the best places to visit, it still retained an inferiority complex due to its proximity to Gotham and the White House, both just a train ride away. And South Jersey was considered a bedroom community of Philly, while north of Trenton served the same purpose for New York.

“I'm originally from this area. I started with the Sonics. Thought it would be nice to finish here, in New Jersey.”

He didn't want to tell him that leaving Arizona wasn't entirely his choice. Management had approached him and told him the organization wanted to make a change. Connor had a lot of respect for the GM, and he could tell the man was genuinely upset having to convey this message. He said all the right things about him being an asset to the club and a good influence in the locker room. But they had a kid coming up from AAA who was not only a decent catcher, they could have him for peanuts.

Fortunately, Connor had full no-trade rights, giving him the ability to dictate if he was traded, and where.

“You are retiring, right?” The man swiveled his head, and a horn blared behind them. He ignored it.

“Yeah. This is my last year. Arizona has a great ball club, but they are probably not going to be in contention this season. When New Jersey showed interest, I thought it would be a great move to try and get into the playoffs.”

It was a well-practiced speech, and it seemed to do the trick. As they pulled into the rental lot, the driver thrust out his hand. “We are damned glad to have you here.”

Connor climbed into his car, and before he drove off, Joey shook his hand once more.

“Good luck, Cuz. I'll be watching.”

As he drove off, he thought about what he had said to the driver. It was true he'd wanted to finish his career here, where he'd grown up, so when they traded him, he didn't object. He was tired, getting burned-out, and it was time to get out before he got hurt. And even though his parents had retired to Florida, this felt like home to him.

And he wanted his final season to be fun. If there's one thing he knew about the New Jersey team, they were a bunch of pranksters who didn't take the game too seriously. Although it hadn't been announced yet, the Sonics was about to acquire a new starting pitcher, Carlos Morales, who happened to be one of the first players he'd caught and had subsequently become one of his best friends. Carlos had messaged him on Twitter and was looking forward to playing with him again. He would have a blast, and hopefully end his career with a World Series ring.

But as he entered his elegant condominium, he knew he'd come back for more than just the game. While baseball had been his life, he had gotten to the point where it wasn't enough. He had the trophies, the news clippings, the accolades.

Now he wanted more: A real home. A wife.

Tracy Coleman.

Her married name was Carter, but she would always be Coleman to him.

Glancing at his phone, he saw her Facebook image, a bouquet of roses. That made him smile—she always was not only beautiful but a romantic. While it was obvious that she didn't have much of a social media presence—her Facebook page had no pictures, no posts, no bragging about her beautiful home or wonderful life—he couldn't help but check it on a regular basis. It made him feel closer to her.

He thought back to their first date, when she was all long blond hair, white Monroe dress, and heels. She was a girly girl and never left the dorm room without makeup and earrings, but he liked that about her, the glamour and femininity. She was his first true love, and he'd never forgotten her. She'd married, of course, and he thought someone told him that she had a kid. In any case, he figured it was too late, she was committed.

Until he saw online that her status was now single…and his parents confirmed that she was recently divorced.

As he walked into the gleaming designer kitchen and tossed his keys on the quartz countertop, he made up his mind. Not only would he do everything he could to help the Sonics go all the way this year, but he was getting back his girl.

And when Connor Jackson set his mind to something, he succeeded.

“Mason, please put that down. You know the rules; you can choose one thing in the store. If you want the cookies, you have to put the chocolate bar back. Chloe, don't push your brother. Ethan, please stop kicking!”

Tracy deftly steered one shopping cart ahead of her with her left hand, while pulling a second one behind her filled with three little towheads like baby chicks in a bath. At six, Mason was the oldest, and he clung to the back of the cart, where he was able to reach the candy. Chloe, dressed in her ragged
Frozen
princess costume, struggled to climb out. Ethan stopped kicking for a moment to smile at a woman entering the store, and the baby watched her siblings in amused satisfaction.

Pausing the carts safely out of reach of the candy display, she tried once more to settle her brood. At thirty-five, Tracy felt ancient. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day, and the ones she had were filled with:

Diapers.

And bottles.

And baths.

Meals, laundry, grocery shopping, and cleaning.

Scraped knees, boo-boos, and Band-Aids.

Bedtime stories. Games.

Hugs and tears.

Then there was homework for Mason, preschool for Chloe and Ethan, massage classes with the baby, and the regular doctor, dentist, and haircut visits. In the summer months she juggled camps, trips to the shore, visits every day to the park, and play dates with other children.

Back to school was an event with new shoes, clothes, pencils, and notebooks. And with that came the inevitable colds, flu, sore throats, and pinkeye. By Thanksgiving everyone was sick, and she went through tissues and Tylenol, cough syrup, and vaporizers like an efficient ER nurse.

But then came Christmas, filled with trees and toys and magic, and November was forgotten. That was followed by the cold dark days of January, and sledding and snowsuits, red faces, and hot chocolate.

Thankfully, March brought the promise of a long-awaited spring, and then they were back to summer.

And as wearying as it was to think of it all, she wouldn't change her life for all the jewels in Tiffany's.

Weaving determinedly away from the candy aisle, she headed toward the produce section of the supermarket. Dressed in sweats and sneakers, her dirty-blond hair tucked under a baseball cap, she looked like exactly what she was: a single mom with four children. Grabbing Mason's hand as he reached for another candy bar, she lowered Chloe out and determinedly curled her fingers around the cart.

“You have to stay with me. Okay?”

Her daughter nodded but was already eyeing the beautiful fruit displays. The natives were getting restless, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. Reaching into the large tote bag hanging over her shoulder, she deftly pulled out three separate plastic bags filled with Cheerios and distributed them quickly to the older children. Unfortunately, Lily, the baby, took that moment to inhale a bucket of air, and then released it with a loud bawl.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath, fishing inside the bag for a pacifier while Mason's and Ethan's heads swiveled around and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Mommy said a bad word,” Ethan stated seriously, while Chloe escaped, distracted by a pyramid of oranges neatly stacked on a countertop.

“You're right.” Tracy sighed as she plopped the binkie in the baby's mouth, which resulted in blessed, blessed silence. “That is a bad word, and I'm sorry. I just…Chloe!”

In slow motion, she saw her four-year-old daughter's hand grab the closest piece of fruit, which of course was at the bottom of the pyramid. The display dissolved right in front of her like a set of dominos. Oranges tumbled to the floor and rolled wildly everywhere, under the counters, in the aisle, beneath a woman's skirt.

“Chloe!” Mason climbed down from the back of the cart and admonished her with a stern tone. Ethan, who was three years old and the sensitive one, sucked his thumb and studied the scene intently as several shoppers nearby stopped to assist.

Chloe's lip quivered as she started to cry, staring at the amber globe in her hands as if she'd done something very wrong. That prompted Lily to spit out the pacifier and begin wailing once more even as Tracy and Mason frantically scooped up the oranges.

“It's okay, ma'am.” One of the employees with a bright green apron appeared and waved his arm. “I'll take care of this.”

“I'm so sorry,” Tracy said, replacing six of the oranges. In the process, she popped the binkie back into Lily's mouth, and then stroked Chloe's hair.

“Don't cry. I know you didn't mean it. They just fell. Thank you,” she said in embarrassment to an older woman and a couple of teenagers who gave her sympathetic looks and began replacing the fruit.

“Really, we've got this. Thank you,” the employee said as Mason earnestly handed him two of the renegade oranges. Deftly he peeled one of the citrus fruits, and gave Chloe and Mason each a slice. Seeing his brother and sister rewarded, Ethan got in on the action, took out his thumb, and extended his hand.

“Here you go.” The young man grinned and handed over another orange slice. He picked up the rest of the fruit and gave Tracy an understanding smile. “Seems like you've got your hands full.”

“More than,” she agreed, and managed a smile. Before anything else could happen, she engaged the troops.

“Okay, I need some help here. Chloe, can you go pick out the best bunch of bananas? Mason, here is the bag for the apples. And Ethan, can you play with Lily?”

Peace was restored as the kids marched off on their missions, and she lifted Ethan from the seat and put him in the cart with his sister. Immediately, he began making faces, which made the baby laugh.

This was a sanity tactic she'd mastered early on. Once she realized the children enjoyed helping and viewed her requests as a scavenger hunt, things got much easier. When Mason and Chloe returned with their finds, she put the children's produce inside, and then allowed Mason to push the grocery cart.

Of course he veered into the next aisle with Chloe right behind him, giggling hysterically.

“They are adorable,” a woman retrieving a box of oatmeal said as Chloe and Mason examined the cereal choices. “And so blond! Are they all yours?”

Tracy nodded, used to the question since four was a lot these days. “Lily was a surprise. But yes, we always wanted a big family.” She couldn't help the affectionate glance she gave Ethan as he fed Lily a couple of Cheerios.

“I remember those days,” the woman said, smiling. “It was a lot easier to shop when my husband was with me, but I couldn't always wait to pick up groceries.”

Tracy fought the tightening in her throat.
That would work if I still had a husband.
But she managed a smile. “We figured out a system. As long as I get them to participate in the shopping, we do okay.”

“Have a good day,” the woman said, waving to Chloe, who stared at her with big blue eyes. Her gaze returned to Tracy. “You know, these are the best years of your life.”

Just then Ethan spilled his bag of cereal all over the floor, watching in fascination as Mason ran over the puffed kernels with the shopping cart.

Tracy smiled wanly. “Yes, they are.”

Her cell was ringing when she got home. Tracy reached quickly to shut it off as Mason and Chloe marched into the kitchen, each carrying a miniature shopping bag. Ethan had fallen asleep in the car and woke up cranky, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. Thankfully, Lily still slept and Tracy was able to get her into her crib before descending back to the kitchen.

Glancing at her cell, she saw it was her mother calling. She settled the kids in the playroom, each with a box of raisins, and then returned the call as she put away the groceries.

“Hey, sorry. I was just getting in the door when you called. I had to go food shopping.”

“You really need to get some help,” her mother said for the millionth time. “You can't do this all on your own.”

“Yes, well, help costs money. I never know from week to week if I'm going to get my support check. Jeremy's been better about it lately, but I can't count on it.”

Her mother didn't say “I told you so,” but she didn't have to. It was implied. Her family had not been supportive of her marrying Jeremy Carter. They didn't like his family and felt they were from the wrong side of the tracks. Her parents were well off, her father a surgeon at Robert Wood Johnson, and her mother a full-time homemaker. She knew they wanted the best for her, but worrying about money and deadbeat husbands was outside their territory.

“I don't understand why the courts can't garnish his wages or something…”

Tracy did an eye roll as she put the Lucky Charms in the cabinet. “Lawyers cost a fortune. If it gets really bad, I'll have no choice, but for right now I'm just trying to keep things with him on an even keel.”

“You know your father and I are happy to help…”

“No. It's not your responsibility,” she said quickly. “It's Jeremy's.”

“I still can't believe he was cheating on you with that woman, even knowing that you were pregnant with Lily.”

Her hand froze on the jar of spaghetti sauce, and she felt her stomach tighten. Her husband had enlisted in the navy as an officer and wound up traveling all over the world. He was home just enough to start a family and gone just enough to meet someone else and lead a double life. It wasn't until she got pregnant with Lily that he admitted the truth, and that he wanted out of the marriage.

Thankfully, he had agreed to a quick divorce so they could both get on with their lives. It wasn't easy, living alone with the children, but it was better than living a lie.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Mom, I know you mean well, but it's not helpful to talk about that. Things were rocky between us before Lily, and an unexpected pregnancy didn't help. Anyway, I've got to go get dinner started, and then I have some work to do tonight for the doctor. Say hi to dad. I'll give you a call later, when I get some of the medical billing done.”

“Sure. Oh, by the way, did you see the news about the New Jersey Sonics?”

Tracy laughed. “No, I'm reading more Dr. Seuss these days than the sports page. Why, what's going on?”

“They just signed Connor Jackson. Apparently the catcher got hurt, and they got Connor in a trade. Your dad saw it this morning on the news.”

Her hand clutched the cell, and she found herself unexpectedly breathless as her heart stopped.

Connor.

It seemed like ten lifetimes ago, and also like yesterday. Idly she wondered if he was still so damn good looking, with those penetrating gray-green eyes, dark brows, and oh so sexy mouth.

But she knew he was. It was hard to avoid knowing what was going on with an ex-boyfriend when he was frequently in the news or plastered on the sports page.

Ethan began screaming from the playroom, and she realized her mother was saying something once more.

“So we were thinking about going to the game on Sunday, and maybe taking you and the kids?”

They would go to the game, watch Connor play, maybe even see him, talk to him…her heart pounded as if trying to escape her body.

“Let me think about it. Listen, I've got to go,” she said as the screaming intensified. “I love you.”

She hung up the phone and went to break up the latest fight, yet she couldn't get him out of her mind.

Connor.

Separating the boys, she shook her head, reminding herself that that was a lifetime ago.

Connor Jackson was now a major league star. They had dated in college, fallen in love, but baseball inevitably took him away. They had tried to maintain a long-distance relationship, but it didn't last. Even though their breakup had been amicable, she'd never gotten over him, not even when she'd moved on, married Jeremy, raised their kids.

And he was coming home
.

She refused to allow herself to fantasize. Connor was now rolling in money, women loved him, and he had an enviable lifestyle. He had traveled all over the country and was used to someone handling his luggage, handling his life. There was no way in hell he'd be interested in a divorcée with four little kids.

And when Chloe began to cry, she was certain of it.