Grand Slam: The Boys of Summer
by Heidi McLaughlin releases on
May 23rd!
Pre-order Available NOW!
Synopsis:
Coming... May, 2017
The third novel in New
York Times bestselling author Heidi McLaughlin's Boys of Summer baseball
series.
A beast at the plate, Travis Kidd is a superstar for
the Boston Renegades. But when baseball isn't occupying his time, Travis -
named Boston's Most Eligible Bachelor - is known as a ladies' man.
Saylor Blackwell knows sports. As a public relations
specialists, her focus is on the athletes. The hours are long, the job
stressful, and she's prohibited from dating any of the overly friendly
athletes, but the result is what matters - she's financially able to care for
her daughter.
When a drunken night spent with Travis threatens that,
Saylor knows she's made a mistake. Unfortunately, when he's accused of a
horrible crime, it causes a PR nightmare and forces Saylor to come to his
rescue. But when Saylor's ex comes back demanding custody, it might up to
Travis to save her right back...
***
GRAND SLAM
The Boys of Summer
© Heidi McLaughlin, 2016
Chapter 1 – Travis
The
one I’m eyeing for the night bends at her waist and lines her pool stick up
with the cue ball. She slowly pulls the wooden rod through her fingers, until
the felt top finally connects. The hard white plastic ball rolls toward her
target, hitting it perfectly and stalling as the blue-striped ball rolls into
the pocket. I let out a massive sigh and lean on my stick, waiting my turn. I
should’ve known better when she approached me, asking if I wanted to play a
game or two of billiards with her. I know better than to let a good-looking
woman hustle me out of money but I wasn’t thinking with my right head. I never
am, and once again I’m getting my balls get busted, no pun intended, by a pool
shark.
“Sweetheart,
are you going to let me play? My balls are getting lonely.” If she thinks I’m
crude, she doesn’t say anything. In fact, she looks at me from over her
shoulder and winks before shimmying her ass toward my crotch. My internal groan
is epic. I’ve been watching her bend, lick her lips, show me her ample cleavage,
and shake her ass for almost an hour. Not to mention, she brushes against me
each time she passes me. And the touching isn’t subtle. I can read her loud and
clear, all the way from her tight as-sin jeans to her plunging neckline.
“I can’t help it if you suck.”
“Do you?” I ask, stepping in behind
her. My crotch is lined up perfectly with her ass, earning me another
hair-tossing look over her shoulder.
She stands and turns to face me,
resting her ass on the edge of the table. “What do you have in mind?” Her
finger trails down the front of my shirt until she reaches the buckle of my
belt. The tug is slight, but definitely felt. Message received loud and clear.
“What’s your name?”
“Are names important?”
“Of course. When I demand that you
come for me, I need to know what to call you.”
“Demand?” she questions.
“I’m greedy like that,” I tell her,
placing my cue stick against the table as I step closer to her. I lean in and
try to get a whiff of her perfume, but a mix between the stale air from the bar
and the beer on her breath makes it hard to tell what she’s wearing. I do love
a woman who takes the time to dabble the perfect scent on her skin though.
“Blue.”
“My balls aren’t blue, darling, and
haven’t been in years.”
“No, my name is Blue.”
“That’s a very unique name,” I say
as my hand rests on her hip.
“What can I say? I’m a unique woman,
Travis.”
Ah, she knows my name. That’s
usually how things go for me. Rarely am I given the opportunity to introduce myself.
Everyone knows who I am, and while I enjoy the fruits of my labor, sometimes
anonymity would be nice. One day, I’d like to talk to a woman who doesn’t know
that I’m Travis Kidd, right fielder for the Boston Renegades and one of the
town’s most eligible bachelors. “You know who I am?”
“Doesn’t everyone? I’m a Boston
girl; I know my Renegades.”
I nod and reach for my beer. It’s
the off-season, and technically I shouldn’t be here. I usually head south for
the winter but opted to stay home this time. After a long season, one that saw
my former managers die and one of my closest friends on the team become a dad
to twins, I thought I’d stay around and see what the winter had to offer. Aside
from the cold, I haven’t found much, except Bruins hockey and Celtics
basketball. Those games have been the highlight of my time off.
The pickings for women have been
slim. Without trying to bag on the female population, it’s evident that they’re
seasonal as well. Right now, the puck bunnies, gridiron groupies, and court
whores are in full effect, and the cleat chasers are resting like the rest of
the baseball world. Maybe I should’ve been a dual-sport athlete. This way I
would’ve had the best of both worlds.
“Travis?”
“What?” I ask, mentally shaking the
cobwebs out.
“Where’d you go? It’s your turn?”
Blue nods toward the table, and I look over her shoulder to see the cue ball
sitting there.
“Why don’t you help me?” I know how
to play the game of pool, but since she seems to be a pro, why shouldn’t she
show me? I would’ve happily slid up behind her and taught her how to handle her
stick but she took the fun out of it.
Instead, she’s off to my side and
leaning into me, giving me a perfect sideways glance down her shirt. I smirk,
ignoring everything she tells me, and watch as her mounds of flesh move each
time her hand does. They’re real, that’s for sure. None of that fake silicon
shit on this chick.
“And that’s how it’s done,” she
says, righting herself. She continues to slightly lean over the table though,
jutting her chest out for me to ogle. I cock my head to the side and wink
before taking aim at the cue on the table.
My first shot goes in, and the
second quickly follows. I line up the third, and that is when I see a
raven-haired beauty nursing a drink at the bar.
Saylor Blackwell is off limits to
anyone her agency represents. That includes me. Although I wish it didn’t.
Saylor is the one I would’ve switched agents for if she told me to, but I
fucked that up much I like I screw everything up. When she needed me, I wasn’t
there. And I haven’t spoken to her since.
It’s my dumb luck that she’s sitting
at the bar with her long, slender legs crossed, and she’s dressed like she
recently got off work. Her eyes are set on the television, ignoring the gaggle
of men staring at her. I remember that she was a hard nut to crack back when I
wanted to know her better. I can’t imagine what she’s like now that she’s more
successful.
My last shot is sunk into the corner
pocket. “Eight ball, right side,” I say, nodding in the same direction I plan
to send the black ball in order to finish this game. I’m in a rush now, eager
to speak with Saylor. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself.
“Where ya going?” Blue calls out.
“To the bar. Rack ‘em,” I tell her.
It’s not a lie. I am going to the bar but with the intention of speaking to
another woman. I’m smooth though, and I can easily play it off while I order
another round of drinks.
“Two please.” I put up two fingers
as I motion toward the bartender. Leaning in, I know I’m blocking Saylor’s view
of the television, which is all in my game plan.
“Hey Saylor.”
“Travis,” she says coldly. We have a
history. A small one, but it’s there. I often remember the night we spent
together and the regret that was on her face when we were done. I had never
been kicked out of an apartment before that night. Usually, once I’m satisfied,
I leave. With Saylor, everything was backwards. It’s like she used me to
scratch an itch, and once I took care of that, she didn’t need me anymore.
“What brings you in?”
She looks everywhere but at me. “I’m
meeting a client.”
“And nursing your what?” I take her
drink from her hand and sniff. “Scotch? When did you start drinking the hard
shit?”
That gets her to
look at me. Her glare is deadly as her
blue eyes penetrate into mine. “As if you know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“You don’t know shit, Travis Kidd.
Go back to your booty call. She’s looking at me like she’s ready for a cat
fight, and I assure you, you’re not worth fighting for.”
Saylor turns, giving me the cold
shoulder. If I weren’t so stunned by her outburst, which I did not deserve, I’d
tease her. But I have a feeling that there’s something bothering her, and I’m
the last person she needs making shit worse.
With the bottles of beer between my
fingers, I go back to the pool table where Blue is indeed throwing daggers at
Saylor’s back.
“Down, kitty. She works for my
agent.” I run my hand down her arm, trying to diffuse the situation. Jealous
women usually turn me off, and this should be my sign to hit the road except
I’m an idiot and want to stay mostly so I can watch Saylor.
Taking Blue by her hand, I lead us
over to the stools, and I sit down, pulling her between my legs. My hand is
planted firmly on her leg right under her butt check. It’s a risky move,
especially with all the cameras around, but I don’t care right now. It’s the
off-season. I’m allowed to have a little bit of fun.
“You have nothing to be jealous
over,” I tell her. If anything, I’m trying to appease her.
“Okay.”
“We good? Wanna go back to kicking
my ass at pool?”
She looks over at the table and nods.
“You rack, and I’ll break.” Blue saunters away, giving me space to watch
Saylor, who turns and makes eye contact with me. I wish I could tell what she’s
thinking. Is she second-guessing her harsh words? I am. I want to go back over
and offer to pick her tab. Or ask how she’s getting home. It’s late, and the
roads are shit. If she’s driving, she shouldn’t be drinking. She has a kid that
depends on her.
“I’m ready,” Blue says, thrusting
the stick in my face. Her words catch me off-guard. Is she ready to play
another game or two of pool? I hope so because I have no intention of leaving
as long as Saylor is at the bar. Or is she ready for me to fuck her and never
ask for her number? Because that is bound to happen as well.
I break, sending the balls off in
every direction. Four drop. Two of each giving me the choice of what I want to
be. Blue is yammering in my ear about the set-up and which would be the best.
Her angles only work for her though, and I see that I can run the table on her
if I line up correctly.
“We should’ve bet,” I tell her as I
walk around the table.
“I’d hate to hustle you out of your
money, Travis.”
I laugh off her comment and proceed
to clear the table. She huffs when the eight ball falls into the designated
pocket.
“Well would you look at that,” I
say, taking a bow. Blue pushes me lightly and falls into my arms. Her lips are
on mine before I can push her away, and doing so now would be embarrassing for
her so I kiss her back and find myself opening my eyes to watch Saylor watch
me.
As soon as I pull away, Saylor is
sliding off the bar stool and heading toward the door.
“Be right back. I need some fresh
air.” A true gentleman would’ve invited his lady friend outside, but that is
not who I am.
“Do you need a ride home?” I ask, as
soon as I see Saylor standing near the curb. “And what happened to your
client?”
“He canceled.”
It didn’t strike me as odd earlier
when she said she was meeting a client, but it does now. I’ve never met anyone
from the agency at a bar, let alone this late at night.
“How about that ride home?”
“Travis,” she draws out my name and
then drops her head into her hands. Without thinking, I pull her into my side.
“Come on, Saylor. It’s a ride. Nothing else.”
“What the hell is going on? I
thought you were taking me home?” Blue speaks loud enough for everyone on the
block to hear.
My arm drops, and Saylor steps away
from me. I turn at the sound of Blue’s voice behind me.
“I’ll be in. Give me a minute.” I
smile, hoping to placate Blue but it doesn’t work.
“I see some things never change,”
Saylor says as she steps off the curb and waves at a cab only to be passed by.
Shaking my head, I push my hands
into my pockets for a bit of warmth. If I knew Saylor would be out here when I
returned, I’d run in and grab my jacket. “It’s not like that.”
“What, do you like her or
something?” The sound of Blue’s voice grates on my nerves. Saylor looks over my
shoulder and rolls her eyes.
“Or something,” I say, without
taking my eyes off Saylor.
As soon as a taxi pulls up to the
curb, Saylor is sliding in.
I make a split second decision to
get in with her, but not before Blue yells at me. “Where the fuck are you
going?”
I answer her by slamming the door
shut. I have Blue on the outside screaming and Saylor looking at me like she’s
going to kill me. She opens the door, and I hear, “Fuck you, Travis Kidd.
You’ll pay for this.” And before I realize what’s happening, Saylor is out of
the car and the cab is speeding down the road.
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About the Author
Heidi McLaughlin
Originally from
the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband
and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper
Beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup and a Highland West/Mini Schnauzer, JiLL and her
brother, Racicot.
When she isn't
writing one of the many stories planned for release, you'll find her sitting
court-side during either daughter's basketball games
Heidi's first
novel, Forever My Girl, is currently in production to be a major motion
picture.
NYT & USA
Today Bestselling Author
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