Playing Hardball, Part 1 (A Baseball Romance Serial) (Playing Hardball (A Baseball Romance Serial)) Read online

  Playing Hardball, Part 1

  By Sharon Cummin

  Copyright © 2016 Sharon Cummin

  All Rights Reserved

  Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content that is not intended for those under the age of 18. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious and the age of 18 and older. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Prologue

  Lucy

  It was a gorgeous, warm day and we'd just come in from the pool. I was in the mood for Chinese and didn't feel like cooking. He gave me the same answer he always did when I requested take-out.

  “Anything for you, beautiful,” he said with a huge smile on his face.

  I was the luckiest girl in the world. He was amazing, and he was mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted the biggest kiss on his cheek.

  “I love you so much,” I said. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

  “I'm not sure,” he said with a laugh. “It must have been good.”

  We spent every waking moment together. He was the love of my life. Not one thing ever compared to him and the love he showed me. We'd been together since we were thirteen. We were the perfect example of high school sweethearts. I'd even gone to same college as him. We moved in together the beginning of our second year, and that was it. Not a night had gone by that I wasn't asleep in his arms. There was nowhere else I would rather have been. He was it for me, my everything. I thought about him as soon as my eyes opened each day and just as my eyes closed each night. We'd never once come close to being apart. The two of us were meant to be together forever. He owned my heart, and he always would. He was the only man I would ever love, and I would love him until I took my last breath.

  He changed out of his swimming trunks and into jeans and a t-shirt. His hair looked so damn sexy wet and hanging around his collar. I was still changing when he walked in and wrapped his arms around me.

  “When I get back, all of this is mine,” he said, as he kissed me.

  I grabbed the back of his head and smashed my lips to his.

  “Always is,” I said. “Hurry back.”

  He never had to ask what I wanted. We knew each other inside and out. He knew exactly what I was going to eat. There wasn't one thing we didn't know about each other.

  I pulled on some shorts and a tank top and went into the kitchen to grab what we'd need once he was home. Then I went to the living room and turned on the television to pass the time. It seemed like a long time had gone by when I checked my phone to see if he'd messaged me. There was nothing there. When another thirty minutes went by, I tried calling him. His phone went straight to voice mail, and I began to worry. It was the middle of the afternoon. The Chinese place couldn't have been that busy. Every ten minutes I'd message him like a stalker. Each time there was no reply. Too much time had gone by, I thought. If he'd seen someone he knew and stopped to talk, he would have at least let me know. That was how we were. It had been way too long for him just to get take-out. My entire body was beginning to shake, as I called his phone again.

  When the knock came, I jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. He was finally home. I was so damn happy. I reached out, turned the knob, and swung the door open with the biggest feeling of relief running through my body. Then I saw them, and my stomach dropped. Two uniformed police officers stood before me with worried looks on their faces. I looked up into the eyes of one of them and knew instantly why they were there. My knees went out beneath me, and I fell to the ground just as my world went black. That was the moment that changed the entire path of my life. Nothing would ever be the same again, and it was all my fault.

  Chapter 1

  Lucy

  I'd been at the company for two years before Carrie started. She was quiet at first, but there was something about her I really liked. Something told me we would be good friends.

  I could tell she had worries. I could see them written all over her face. That was a look I knew well. It was the same one I used to have.

  I'd decided to change my life just before getting my job at the company. Since then, I'd been great at covering up my feelings. They were still there, but nobody ever noticed them. For that I was grateful. I'd gone from the walking dead to loudest girl in the room in a matter of days.

  It was the second anniversary of Brad's death, and I was at my lowest. When he passed away, I moved back home with my parents. There was no way I was living in our home without him. I'd never been close to my mom and dad and was happy they didn't ask questions when I moved into their basement. That was where I'd spent the two years since he'd passed. I stopped working and never left that basement. My bed was my home. Not one person ever missed me. Their lives went on above my head, but they left me alone.

  On that second anniversary, I decided that I needed to visit him like I did most times there was an important date. Normally, I'd go see him for just a few minutes before going straight back to my bed. There was something different about that day. When I looked around at all of the graves, his was one of the least taken care of. Men, women, and families were working to keep them clean. I could hear laughing and talking close by and off in the distance. How could they be happy, I thought? How could they carry on without whoever it was buried below them?

  Just a few graves down, I saw a little girl playing in the grass as her mom sat down beside her talking to her about her daddy. The grave wasn't fresh and the little girl wasn't more than a few years old. Then I heard the mother talking about the little girl never meeting her daddy. She talked about how they needed to keep his memory alive.

  That was when it hit me. We didn't have kids, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Would I have rather been in the position that woman was? Would I have wanted a little one to remind me of him every day? Could I raise that baby alone? All I knew was she was one strong woman to be able to hold it together for that little girl, and I hadn't even been able to hold it together for myself.

  My life ended that day with his. I thought that was how it should have been. It was my fault he'd died. If I hadn't asked him to go out, he wouldn't have been in that car, and that drunk asshole wouldn't have hit him. It was the middle of the day. How could that have happened? It was something I thought about every waking moment and even in my sleep. I knew I'd never get close to anyone again. Not a single person. I would never be the reason anyone ever died again. I should've been the one in the car that day, not him.

  I looked down at the messy grave below me and back to that woman with her child. Then I looked back down again. He didn't do anything to deserve a grave that wasn't kept up. It was like he was forgotten. That wasn't the case at all. I could never forget him. His family didn't live close, so I was the only one. I was the one that was s
upposed to keep everything going, and I'd failed. I thought about him every single day, but it sure didn't look like it. The one place he was still at was a mess. How could I let that happen?

  I bent down and began pulling the weeds around the stone as tears slid down my face. What if it was me, I thought? Would he have left my resting place a mess like that? He wouldn't have. I knew deep down he would have had flowers and balloons there for me all the time. Anyone that walked by would have known that I was loved. I hadn't done that for him. I'd been selfish. If I were gone, I'd have wanted him to live his life to the fullest. I wouldn't have wanted him sulking in a bed in a dark basement.

  My fingers continued moving as I cleaned up his grave. It had been two very long years of me closing myself off from the world, and it was time to stop. I had some money in the bank from the insurance we had, and I hadn't spent a dime. There had never been a reason to. My parents fed me while I lived there, they just never bothered to talk to me.

  I jumped up from where I was sitting, went to the store, stopped for flowers, and found myself back at the cemetery. That was where I stayed until it was time for them to close the gates. When I stood up, I had dirt all over my clothes. I knew he would have been laughing if he'd seen the mess I was. My hair had come out of the bun I had on top of my head. There was dirt up and down my arms. I was definitely a sight.

  I looked down at his grave and smiled. It looked perfect. I'd clipped the chunks of grass that were longer, and I'd pulled out every weed. There were three bunches of fresh flowers with a card tucked into one of them. I'd gotten some balloons, and they were blowing in the wind. It looked like the person resting below was loved. He truly was. I looked down and read the words Bradley Joseph Stone. Loving husband, brother, and son. Tears were streaming down my face as I carried everything to my car before going back to say goodbye.

  “I'm going to live. I promise,” I said. “I know you would want that for me. I'll be back soon to tell you all about it. I love you and miss you so much.”

  Then I walked back to the car and drove away knowing my life was going to change. I knew I'd never love again, I didn't want to. He was the only man I'd ever love. I had no intention of ever getting close to anyone. I'd never be the cause of someone hurting again. I didn't deserve love, and I never wanted to risk feeling a loss like that again. I was going to live my life to the fullest. I wanted to live with no regrets. No more wasting time.

  Shortly after that day, I got a job. One year later, I got an apartment close to work and moved out of that basement I'd learned to hate so much. I still had nightmares about awful that day, and I still blamed myself. That would probably never change. During the day I was outgoing and had become the life of the party. Some nights, I tried my best not to close my eyes. I didn't want to live heartbreaking that day over and over, but it happened anyway. It didn't matter how hard I tried, it was all still there.

  The only people still in my life that knew what happened were my parents, and they didn't give a shit. The times I talked to them, I played it off like my life was perfect. They seemed fine with that, and so was I.

  Two years at my job had gone by fast. I spent my days at the office. They knew nothing about my personal life, and they didn't care. I'd always been a numbers girl. I seriously loved working with numbers and money. I'd been out of practice but jumped in with both feet and it all came right back to me. There were days I'd bury myself so deep in the numbers, I'd forget what time it was. I worked late and came in on weekends when they needed me.

  After work, I'd stop for a drink or two at a bar close to home. I walked a lot of the time. My job was within walking distance to my apartment. One thing I never did was drive drunk. A drunk driver had taken the only important person in my life away. I would never want to do that to someone else. It was something I was completely against. I'd call a cab or walk anywhere I needed to go. Some days I'd sit at the bar just so I wouldn't go home and close my eyes. I quickly became a regular at a couple of the local places. Then I became the life of the party. I didn't need to sit around sad. I was done with that. Nobody asked questions about the loud ones. If I was quiet, the questions came. I'd learned to use humor and sarcasm in everything I did. There was no reason to be serious. I'd done that long enough. No matter how rough things were or how people felt, they needed to realize it could always be worse. I embraced every day with a smile on my face and a cocky attitude ready to take on the world.

  Men began approaching me. At first, I wasn't into them. I fought it completely. One day, a guy came up to buy me a drink. When he touched my arm and leaned in close, I instantly remembered what I was missing. The chill that ran through me when he whispered in my ear sent a feeling straight down between my legs. I took that drink and a couple more after that. Then I found myself wanting to feel closeness, even for only a couple of hours.

  I was going back and forth in my mind. The guilt was fighting with the need to be touched. It had been over two years since I'd had any touch at all. He wouldn't want me to be alone, I thought. There was no way. He'd want me to move on and have a life. Then I thought about what I would want for him if it was me that day. I'd want him to have a life. I'd want him to feel again. I'd want him to be with someone else.

  I made a promise to myself and to him at that moment, I would let myself be with men, and I wouldn't make myself go without. In that way, I would move on. However, I would not get close. I would never let there be feelings. He owned my heart, and I would never love again. As long as what I was doing was just fun, it would be okay. Nothing serious though, not ever.

  I went home with that guy, in a cab of course. He wanted to drive, but I wasn't having it. It was a cab or nothing. That was the first time I'd ever been with another man. I mean ever. He had been the only one before that night. I felt guilty for doing it the first few times it happened. Before I knew it, I found myself enjoying the attention. There was never anything to it besides sex. I never felt a single thing for any of them. It was about having a good time for a few hours before going back to real life. It was a quick escape, and it was one that I welcomed.

  When Carrie started, we instantly hit it off. She'd moved there from two states away. Her son was one and was such a cutie. I knew the feeling of being alone. It wasn't something I wanted for anyone else. She didn't talk much about why she moved. I knew there was more to her story, but I didn't push her. Believe me, I knew what it was like to hide. I was the last person that would push her to talk. If she wanted to, she would. I liked my job, loved it really, but there is no way I'd move two states away with a child for it. Unless I was running, I mean.

  We went to lunch together. I'd gone to hang out with her and her son James many times. They'd even come over to my place. We went to the park and to the zoo. It was nice hanging out with them. Those were the only times I genuinely laughed and smiled. That little boy was so precious. She never left him with anyone, except for while she worked. I thought that was awesome. There were so many times I wanted to ask about his dad, but I never did. Who could let that cutie go, I wondered? I kind of assumed he was the one she was running from.

  Seeing her and her boy made me think about my life. I thought I was going to have kids. I'd always wanted them, until that day that is. Would I want them down the road, I wondered? The answer was no. I wasn't going to have kids. It was a sad thought. I loved being around them, and I knew I could be a great mom. It all went back to him. He was the man I was going to have a family with, and he was taken away. How could I ever do that with another man? It would be wrong, I told myself often. The other thing was that I never wanted to get that close to anyone again. I knew in my heart, that if I had a child, I would be closer to them than I ever was to him. Everyone said that their kids were their heart. I couldn't imagine feeling more love than I did for him. If that were true, I couldn't do it. I didn't deserve it. He died because of me. It was my fault. Everything in my life always went back to that day.

  Chapter 2

  Lucy


  Carrie had been there almost a year when they announced the sale of the company. She was my best friend, and I felt bad for her when she took the news hard. Of course I wasn't happy, but I knew life could be so much worse. It was a job. We could find another one if we had to. She had her son to worry about, so I knew that was different. She also had no family close by. If worse came to worse, I knew I could live in that shitty, dark basement at my parents' house again. If it got that bad, Carrie and James could live with me. I wouldn't have minded being around my little buddy every day. We could share a place, and I could avoid the basement. Everything would work out. We were alive, that was all that mattered. She didn't see things the same way I did, and my girl was freaking out.

  I waited until I knew James would be asleep and showed up at her house with drinks. She said it had been three years since she'd drank. I guess that made sense. She'd been a mom since the day she got pregnant. She needed to kick back and throw back a few drinks. The poor woman was about to burst from the damn pressure she was feeling. She argued for a minute before taking the drink from me. Once she did, it was like the shit was water. We watched television while we talked. Before either of us realized it, she'd had more than she probably should have. I caught a cab home not feeling the least bit bad about getting her drunk. She needed to unwind for a couple of hours.

  When she showed up for work the next day, I thought she was going to kill me. Maybe I should have stopped her, I thought. It wasn't my fault she wasn't turning them down. The real killer came when they announced another meeting. She was in the bathroom trying to put herself together and cursing my name. It didn't work. She looked like total shit. I was able to pull myself together and put on my happy face in seconds. She wasn't so lucky. Even her clothes looked like she'd just crawled out of bed.