Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (102 page)

I
’m back
at the house I used to know, on the back porch overlooking the backyard about to have a real, straight out-of-a-Rockwell-painting Hammond family dinner.

And I couldn’t be more excited.

Irene’s cooking, Rowan’s making smart-ass comments about me and his sister, Stella’s playing big sister and telling me to make myself useful and shuck corn.

Ivy is sitting on my lap, her hand in mine.

And it’s all
exactly
how I remember it.

Well, the beer in my hand was
given
to me by Jacob instead of me stealing it out of his fridge when he wasn’t looking, but besides that?

Exactly the same.

“So now what?”

I grin at Ivy, pulling her against me as I sit back against the railing of the back porch.

“I’m open to ideas.”

“
Well
,” she says, matter-of-factly. “I’m being sued by my management company.”

“I have no job and live on a houseboat.”

She laughs, turning in my arms to kiss me.

Goddamn this is perfect.

“We’ve got each other.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to ignore how cringingly cliché that was.”

“Long as you keep kissing me, gorgeous,” I grin at her. “You ignore anything else you want.”

She smiles as she presses her lips to mine. And there’s
just
a hint of tongue before there’s a coughing sound from behind her. She breaks away sharply, both of us going red as we look up at Jacob Hammond.

He raises a single brow at me sternly.

“Silas.”

I clear my throat, trying to hide my grin. “Sir?”

“Special Agent Riley is here.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, looking at me with a stony gaze.

“He’d like a word.”

Ivy slips off my lap, and I’m standing from my seat when the screen door to the back porch swings open.

“Now, you’re
sure
you wouldn’t like to stay for a drink or something, Agent Riley?”

Yep, there’s Irene, offering the damn FBI agent some Hammond hospitality.

Agent Riley smiles at her, shaking his head. “No, ma’am, but thank you.”

He turns his eyes to me, and I can feel my heart draw up a little inside my chest.

“Mr. Hart.” He steeples his hands in front of his chest, raising a brow at me.

Fuck. This is it. This is where I get hauled in for
being
in that van, or for even being a fucking associate of my uncle.

“Look, I don’t want a scene, Agent,” I mutter as I draw my head up high and meet his look. “Not here, not in this hou-”

“You’re in the clear, Hart.”

I blink, the words tripping over themselves in my mouth before I frown at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I said you’re in the clear.”

“Sir, I-”

Ivy elbows me in the ribs and kicks my shin at the same time.

I clear my throat and shrug at Agent Riley. “I mean, yeah, of course I’m in the clear.” I smile broadly at him. “I mean it’s not like I did anything, right?”

He raises a single brow at me, clearly suppressing the grin.

“So you wouldn’t know anything about an attempted robbery at the North Shore Shipping office down in Lynn?”

My brows perk up.

Attempted
robbery?

Agent Riley smirks at me. “Relax, Silas, I told you you’re in the clear. Your uncle on the other hand,” he shrugs, another smirk coming to his face, “well, not so much.”

“And just what sort of trouble might my dear uncle have gotten himself into, Agent?”

Ivy elbows me again, and Agent Riley arches another brow.

“Don’t get cute, Hart. We got a tip-off call from your aunt right before Declan and his little pals tried to hit the offices.”

Whoa.

Agent Riley looks at me sharply. “I’d send that aunt some flowers, if I were you. When she called, she wanted us to be sure to know that
you,
” he jabs a finger at my chest, “that you were ‘one of the good ones’.”

I grin.

“I’m going to need you to come down at some point and answer some basic questions, but other than that, I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other much.”

I frown, that last lingering thought in my head scratching to get out.

“So, that’s it?”

He nods slowly. “Declan and this Jerry character had prints that checked out with an open case - this armored truck robbery down outside Boston about eight years ago.”

He grins thinly at me. “But of course, a good kid like you wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he.”

I swallow.

Agent Riley chuckles. “Relax. The prints match up, and I’m pretty a-okay closing an otherwise dead case. What do you think?”

I bring my hand up and run my fingers through my hair. “I’ve lately decided that cleaning up lingering messes is a good idea.”

He grins. “Let me know if you ever finish that tour guide for Dublin,” he half-turns to the backdoor.

“Smart-ass.”

He steps back into the kitchen, thanking Jacob and Irene and apologizing for interrupting dinner.

And then he’s gone.

And another chapter closes.

“You are
not
that lucky,” Ivy mutters into my ear.

I laugh as I turn and scoop her into my arms, pulling her against me.

“Oh yeah? Think I should go correct his mistake?”

“Don’t you even
think
about leaving me,” she murmurs, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me.

“Alright, alright,” Jacob growls behind us, breaking us apart again.

He wags a finger at me. “Watch those hands under my roof, son,” he says with an arched brow and a grin on his face.

Ivy goes bright red.

“Shall we eat?”

Irene steps onto the back porch with a tray of barbecue chicken.

We follow her and Jacob down the steps and through the yard to the big wooden table - Rowan, Stella and Carter, Sierra, and Ivy.

And me.

All together, sitting at one table, eating one family meal.

Exactly
how I remember.

And damn is it perfect.

I
wake
up in the morning to the smell of bacon.

Yep, I’m home.

I feel like I’ve been thinking about how much this feels like home ever since I got here, except it hasn’t quite been there. It hasn’t
quite
felt perfect until this very morning, because something was missing.

And no, it wasn’t bacon cooking.

It’s the man I know is sleeping on the couch down in the basement rec room.

Silas, of course.

Yes, I’m twenty-six years old. Yes, I’m a grown adult woman capable of having mature, adult relationships. Yes I’m
married
, for crying out loud. But my dad letting Silas Hart share a
bed
with me under his roof?

Not in a million years.

Some things never do change.

I swing my legs out of bed and stretch, glancing at the phone still lying on the pillow next to where I slept and feeling my face get red. He might have been on the couch downstairs, but that didn’t stop a
very
steamy string of texts followed by a hushed, gasping phone conversation to take place anyways.

I pull on my old softball t-shirt and a pair of loose pajama pants, ducking my face in front of a mirror and doing…
something
with my hair before I open my bedroom door and head downstairs. The smell of bacon, pancakes, and
sweet,
sweet coffee hits my nostrils, getting stronger with every step.

The hallway door to the basement cracks open as I get to the bottom of the stairs, and I stop and grin at the sleepy, bleary-eyed man still pulling a shirt on that steps out into the light.

“Hey sleeping beauty.”

He jumps at the sound of my voice before he turns and grins at me.

“Hey yourself, gorgeous.”

He glances behind him at the sound of voices down the hall in the kitchen before he pulls me against him, kissing my lips.

I wink at him. “You look tired. Did you sleep well?”

Silas’s eyes flash at mine as he pulls me against him again. “
Someone
kept me up, actually.”

“Oh?” I smile innocently.

“You know,” he murmurs. “This
someone
has developed quite a dirty little mouth since the last time I had phone calls like that with her.”

I blush scarlet at the memory of the night before.

“And I can’t
wait
to learn more about it,” he growls, his hand sliding up my side and brushing against my breast.

“Breakfast!”

The sound of my mother’s voice calling from the kitchen has us jumping apart. We both catch it and roll our eyes, realizing we’re still acting like this is some sort of illicit teen romance instead of the two married adults we actually are.

We turn towards the kitchen, but I stop short, frowning at what’s sitting in the foyer by the front door.

“Who’s are those?”

Two suitcases - one jet black and silver and very important looking and the other a
very
expensive Prada bag lie next to each other in the middle of the floor by the door.

I turn to see Silas looking as puzzled as I am.

“No idea?” He grins. “Maybe it’s for us? Think they’re trying to tell us something?”

I laugh. “Yeah
, right.
Irene would have us
live
here if we’d go for it.”

“Would that still entail me spending every fucking night on that shitty sofa downstairs?”

I nod. “Most certainly.”

Silas laughs before taking my hand. “C’mon, lets go get some coffee.”

The sound of laughter and boisterous conversation gets louder and louder until we step into the kitchen and-

And my jaw
drops
.

“
Kyle?!
” I scream as my youngest brother looks up from his pancakes and jumps up from his chair.

“Slimy! You’re up!”

I shriek as I jump into his arms before looking over his shoulder and noticing a gorgeous, elegantly dressed girl who I’ve definitely seen in tabloid magazines.

“Oh!”

I pull away from Kyle and cringe at the goofy pajama outfit I’m wearing while I meet my brother’s girlfriend Vivian Ames - an actual socialite - for the first time.

“Uh,
hi,
I-”

“Dude, relax,” Kyle throws an arm over my shoulder as he grins at his girlfriend. “She’s a
huge
fan. She buys like every skin cream you market.”

Vivian’s faces goes red and she rolls her eyes at my brother before giving me a sheepish look.

“It’s true, I sort of stalk you on Instagram. And oh my God, I
love
your new yoga line!”

I turn to my brother. “Oh, I like her-”

I stop suddenly as I realize Kyle is ignoring me, staring and grinning at the kitchen doorway instead.

“Well
hell
,” he says evenly. “Silas freaking Hart, back for breakfast at the Hammond house.”

There’s only a second of hesitation before he suddenly grins and grabs Silas into a big bear hug.

“Guess I should say welcome to the family, huh brother?”

Apparently, Kyle’s been filled in.

Silas steps away, a huge grin on his face as he stares at Kyle in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here?”

My dad coughs.

“Heck, sorry,” Silas nods at my dad.

Kyle shrugs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Look I’m sorry man, I got Rowan’s call like two weeks ago man. I’ve just been so busy. Work’s been taking
all
my time.”

“
Tell me
about it.” Vivian sighs dramatically, bringing a laugh to the whole kitchen.

“Hey, some of us have to work,” Kyle frowns.

Rowan snorts. “Kyle, you’re
literally
a millionaire. Cry me a damn river, buddy.”

Kyle grins sheepishly, but Silas looks at him curiously.

“Phone call?”

“About the company?
Your
company idea?”

Huh?

Kyle nods eagerly. “Dude, I’m in.”

Silas’s jaw drops. “You’re
in?
Just like that? I haven’t even had a chance to tell you anything about it.”

Kyle shrugs. “Eh, Rowan filled me in on the basics. I mean, I want to hash out some details with you, but I think we could
kill it
with this thing. Besides, I’m
done
grinding it with the Bureau, man. Apparently I’m not cut out for a regular desk job.”

Silas is still shaking his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “Tell me you’re not messing with me, Kyle.”

Our younger brother laughs. “I’m
completely
serious, man. I’m in for the whole thing. Let’s do it!”

I shake my head as I step forward. “Hang on, hang on. You’re in for
what
exactly?” I raise a brow at Silas. “What company?”

Kyle snorts. “She doesn’t know?”

“No, I don’t.”

He grins back at my husband. “Always with the secrets, this one.” He turns back to me. “A securities firm - private, corporate, the works.”

I turn back to stare at Silas. “Are you serious?”

He grins as he shrugs. “I didn’t want to tell you until it was more than just an idea.” He glances at Kyle. “It’s, uh, it’s gonna take some serious startup cash. You know that, right?”

Rowan groans over the rim of his coffee. “Dude, he’s a
millionaire
. Why does everyone keep forgetting that?” he says with a wink.

“A securities firm.” I cock my head, grinning as Silas moves towards me and puts an arm around my waist.

“A thief and a hacker, what could possibly go wrong,” Sierra says with a laugh from the breakfast table.

“Well these
pancakes
could get even colder, for one thing, and I am
not
cooking more.” Mom arches a stern brow as she comes up behind Silas and I, ushering us towards the table.

My siblings scoot over as Silas and my dad pull two more chairs in from the dining room. Mom brings over another stack of pancakes and a pot of coffee as we all sit and start to dig in.

It’s crowded, and loud, and everyone’s talking over each other, and by the end of it, someone’s spilled coffee in their own lap, and there’s sticky syrup all over the place.

But everyone’s smiling.

Silas says something that gets the whole table cracking up before he slides an arm over my shoulders, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

We’re all together, sitting here sharing a moment and a meal.

One big happy family.

And it’s perfect.