Dirty Saint: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (20 page)

Saint reaches out to touch me but he pulls away at the last second, likely remembering the Dean’s words. “You call me if they try to pull anything with you. Remember, you don’t have to take their calls.”

“I’m financially dependent on them. I kind of do,” I remind him. We stand in silence, neither one of us sure of what to say. “I better get back. It seems like I need to go apply to some schools in Minneapolis.”

Saint beams at me. “You sure you’re not going to mind the cold temperatures?”

I scoff. “I grew up in upstate New York. Minnesota has nothing on Buffalo.
You’re
the one who wanted sandy beaches. I’m just fine with snow.”

“And fireplaces?” he asks.

“I’m definitely going to need a fireplace,” I say to him.

“You can have whatever you want, Delilah.”

My need to touch him nearly topples me into his arms. But we’re connecting with words right now, and that’s going to have to be enough.

“Goodnight, Saint.”

“Night, Delilah.”

We go our separate ways, my stomach twisted with a combination of guilt and happiness. I need to face my parents sooner rather than later. I know that.

But right now, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

I’ve got colleges to apply to.

Right?

I run through the pouring rain and realized that I’ve made my mind up. I’m calling my parents tonight. It’s not that late already and besides that, I want to get this over with. Gone are the days where I would put off confrontation.

I want to rip the bandage off as quickly and painlessly as I can.

I step into the supply closet on the first floor of my dormitory. The smell of bleach now reminds me of Saint and sex and love. Maybe the strange perfume will help soften the blow with my parents.

I make the phone call, picking at my fingers as I do it.

My mother answers the phone. “Esther,” she whispers quietly. “Hi, sweetie.”

I burst into tears and sob for several minutes. I wasn’t expecting to have that reaction, but here it is. Front and center, laid bare in front of my mother. “Hi, Mom,” I finally whisper back. “Are you alone?”

“No, your father is sleeping upstairs,” she says. “How are you, hon-“

There’s a scream and a clatter. I hear the sound of a palm meeting a cheek with a harsh force. “Jed please!” my mom cries out, sobbing.

“Who the hell is this?” It’s my dad’s gruff voice.

I hear my heart pounding in my chest. I have to remind myself: he’s not here. He can’t hurt me. “It’s me, Dad,” I say. “It’s Esther.”

“You little slut,” he seethes into the phone. “I was prepared to just completely disown you. That’s why I haven’t called. I don’t want contact with a whore like you.”

His words hit me but they don’t penetrate. It’s like I have a veneer of steel covering my body now. But it’s not steel. It’s Saint’s love. I feel braver with him by my side, even if he’s not physically standing here with me. “Alright. That’s your right to feel that way.”

“You’re damn right it’s my right to feel that way. You can’t imagine what people at church are saying about you. You’ve really humiliated me. You’ve humiliated your mother. You’ve humiliated the family name, Esther. I can’t abide that.”

“Funny, I
can
imagine what people are saying about me, considering my own father just called me a slut and a whore.” I’m rallying back and forth with him like a tennis match. I’ve waited decades to say these things, to finally stand up to my father. “At least I don’t abuse my spouse.”

There’s dead silence on the other end of the line. I actually have to check my phone screen to make certain my dad didn’t actually hang up the phone, because it kind of sounds like it. “I knew you were screwing that football boy before Christmas. Why else would you be a water girl?”

“Maybe because I like football? But no. Girls aren’t allowed to like football, right? Totally inconceivable.” I’m now being sarcastic with my father. Another first. Another one for the record books.

“I didn’t know which boy it was, but I knew it. I
knew it
. And when I saw that press conference it was confirmed. That’s why. Oh, my plan worked all too well. The thing is, I thought for sure a slut like you would have gotten rid of the pregnancy when it finally took.”

Plan.
Plan. What plan?

My mind breaks into pieces as I realize. I can see the slightly moved birth control pills in my dresser drawer at home. “I didn’t put it back in the wrong place, did I, Dad? That was you.” My ears are ringing. I’m in shock. “You traded my birth control pills for sugar pills. You did that to me. Why? Why?”

“Because I wanted to be proven right. And I was.”

I hang the phone up before he can say anything else. Bile is rising in my mouth and I vomit into the trashcan in here. I wipe my mouth with a paper towel and dry my tears. I feel numb but I’m coming back to reality. I tie up the trash and double-bag it, tossing it into the larger, rolling bin.

I open the door and step out into the hallway.

That’s the last time I’m ever going to speak with my father. I know it. I just know it.

I worry about my mother but only a little bit. There’s a part of her that keeps her in that position. Her kids are all grown. She’s choosing to stay with him. I cannot help her if she won’t help herself.

I go upstairs, Romy dead asleep with the television on. I slip the remote out of her hand and shut it off.

I take the longest shower of my life. It’s like I’m trying to burn away all of the filth and muck and waste of the last few months. Some of this grime has been there an entire lifetime, thanks to my father.

I step out of the shower and twist my long hair carefully into a towel. I look at myself in the mirror. I look different.

I am reborn.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

SAINT

“And the most popular news network in the world has offered to throw you a wedding,” my agent says through the speaker phone.

Esther and I are sitting in the courting room with our chaperone, my cell phone on the table between us. It’s an unusual courting date, to be sure, but this is the only time we’re allowed to see each other.

I suggested fucking in the greenhouse, but Esther won’t have it. It’s killing me to not touch her, but she keeps reminding me the sex we will finally have this summer will be worth it.

Yeah. That promise does nothing to assuage my libido.

“Great. Only problem with that: we’re not engaged,” I remind him.

“Well,
get
engaged, then. You’ve gotta do something. Your image is important. People are going to call you a hypocrite if you get on that field in September with those Bible verses under your eyes, I promise you that.”

“Alright, Tony. Great talking with you.” I hang up the phone before he can respond. “So. A wedding.”

Esther raises her eyebrows. “A wedding. On television. I don’t know about that.”

“Would you consider it? I mean, it’d be all expenses paid, after all.”

Esther shrugs. “Like you said, you haven’t proposed yet.” She stands up and smooths out her long skirt. “Goodnight, Brother Williams.” She flashes me a playful smile and leaves the room.

Little does she know, I’ve got plans. Big plans.

***

That night, I change into a suit I bought in Chicago. It’s a little flashy, but I like it. It was my first purchase with my newly-padded bank account. My dorm room is dark, and Rick is sleeping like a fucking log as per usual.

I reach into my jacket pocket to make sure that the
second
purchase I made with my signing bonus is still tucked in there. It is. I smile to myself and grab my truck keys, picnic basket, and a tote bag filled with other provisions.

I slip out of the dorm building and fly across campus without making a single sound. I stop outside Esther’s window and chuck up a single rock.

It connects with the glass with a satisfying
pop
.

I knew she’d be up reading even at this late of an hour. It only takes a second for her to throw up the sash and lean out. “What are you doing?” she whispers.

“Get down here,” I whisper back. “And hurry.”

She doesn’t argue with me, probably figuring it’s less trouble to just do what I ask instead of risking waking up the rest of campus with our usual arguing.

Esther pops out of the side door wearing her bathrobe. “What are you doing here?”

I hold out my one free hand. “Come on. I’m taking you somewhere.”

“I’m only not arguing with you because I don’t want to wake up the entire campus,” she hisses at me. “But just know that when we get in your Jeep, I’m definitely yelling about how reckless and foolish this all is.”

“Duly noted,” I whisper back.

Sure enough, she lets loose when we’re trucking down the highway. “I can’t believe you would risk us being caught like that! What were you
thinking
?”

I laugh and pat her leg. “That’s the fiery temper I’ve been missing over the last few weeks.” I squeeze her thigh and she lets out a little moan. “I knew that you were missing me, too.”

“Why are you in a suit? You didn’t tell me to get dressed up,” she says.

I shrug. “You look beautiful. Besides, your last exam is tomorrow. I won’t keep you out late, I promise.”

She leans back, resigned to the fact that I’m in charge, this vehicle is moving, and there’s nothing she can do to stop me.

When we get close, I hand her a blindfold. “Put this on,” I instruct.

She does, shockingly without argument. “This better be good.”

I pull the Jeep off the road twenty minutes later. “Stay in here, and don’t peek.”

I reach into the back of the Jeep for my bags. I spend ten minutes getting set up. I’m so glad it’s not rainy or windy tonight. This is perfect.

I open the passenger-side door and help Esther out of the Jeep. “Alright,” I say. “You can open.”

“I’ve never been this patient for anyone, and I want you to make a note of that,” she replies saucily.

“I will. Now take the mask off.”

She does and gasps.

Before us lays the entire Shenandoah Valley, town lights twinkling like small candles in the far off distance. In front of her is the same lookout where we had our first date. I’ve lit a hundred tea light candles and spread them across the gravel. In the center is a picnic blanket and a basket filled with cocoa, cookies, and cake.

“Is that a sex blanket?” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth.

I grab her and hold her close to me. “I’ve missed this,” I exhale into her hair.

“Me too.”

We kiss and make our way over to the blanket. “Esther,” I say when we’re settled on the thick flannel. “I love you. I want-“

“Just fuck me already. And of course I’ll marry you.”

I stare at her in awe, but I don’t have long to react. She proceeds to practically tear my clothes off my body.

I’m not the type of guy to argue with a woman when she’s so single-minded in her purpose.

It also turns out that Esther was right. The sex was definitely worth waiting for.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

ESTHER

I take a deep breath. This place looks like a lace factory exploded. It’s so girly and over-the-top I can hardly stand it.

“So what we have here is our Fantasy Dreams collection,” the wedding planner says to me in her valley-girl voice. “The difference is that you get wall draping with this plan.”

“Fantasy wasn’t enough? You had to have dreams?” I say to her sharply.

She looks offended. “The name isn’t the point, it’s the fabrics and the details.” She points a French-manicured nail at a glossy page in the book. “See? It’s the draping.”

I can’t adequately describe how little I care about draping. “I’m sorry,” I reply, rubbing my ever-growing stomach. “I’m just really overwhelmed. Maybe we can take a break?”

“Certainly, Miss Avonlea,” she says in a clipped tone. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water is just fine,” I say to her.

I heave myself out of the chair and walk out of the bridal boutique onto the back balcony of the shop. This place overlooks the Pacific Ocean. It’s a gloriously sunny Santa Barbara day. I reach into the pocket of my long dress for my phone. I see I have five missed texts from Saint.

Missing you.

Love you.

Thinking about you.

Please don’t kill the wedding planner.

I checked the news to see if you’d set the place on fire. Call me back when you have a second.

I laugh and call his cell number. “No, I didn’t kill anyone.”

Saint chuckles. “That’s a relief. How is it going?”

“Oh, you know. I thought the point of the network hooking us up with a wedding planner was to make it so I didn’t actually have to, you know.
Wedding plan
. They’re forcing me to make a bunch of decisions and all I can think about is starting school next week.”

“Baby, you’ll be fine. Just shut your eyes and pick any random thing. They’ll make it look good.”

I sigh. “I miss you.”

“You’ll see me at the hotel tonight. And I bought you some new lingerie. You better be wearing it when I get there or there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“A woman
is
supposed to defer to the man of the house,” I say half-jokingly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Now go finish up. I’m done with the warmup and if you hurry back here, I can fuck you senseless before the game.”

I hang up and walk back inside the bridal boutique, the area between my legs hot and prepped for Saint to do his magic. I wave the wedding planner over. “Can I ask you something?”

“Certainly,” she says. I can tell she’s still upset with the way I treated her earlier. I don’t blame her. I would be too.

“What would it take for me to sign this entire wedding and literally every single decision over to you?”

The wedding planner blinks at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

I reach down for my purse and sling it over my shoulder. “I want to sign some sort of contract that lets you make literally every single decision for this wedding without needing my approval. Dress, caterers, the works. Every color. Every ribbon tied around the wedding favors. The DJ. The venue.
Everything
.”