ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: M.V.B. - Most Valuable Baby (Sports Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Interracial Pregnancy Romance) (23 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Khela Caldwell was proud of Stablesmith University’s baseball team. She would probably never admit that out loud, because it might make them complacent, but they were doing extraordinarily well. The improvement in the team’s playing was significant to say the least. She knew they were going to go far this season, and they had a much better short of bringing the university’s name to fame than any of the other teams in the school.

She’d kept a close eye on all teams, noting everything about them and the way they were structured, including who the natural leader was and who was most likely to crack under pressure. Her observations had been careful and shrewd, and Coach Dennison was thankfully a good-hearted man who seemed to want nothing but fair success for his team. Knowing her extensive background and experience in the field of athletics, he valued her opinions.

There was a knock on Khela’s office door. She glanced up and looked through the small glass pane in the door that she could see through. Standing outside was none other than Dean Williams.

Ah, Dean. Star athlete of the university, while also, last she checked doing extremely well intellectually, if his examination results were anything to go by. Smart, intelligent, poster boy Dean, who was, as far as she knew, the only boy on the entire team who wasn’t taking advantage of the numerous girls fawning over him. His head was in the game and his mind was on his team. She admired that.

Dean opened the door as soon as he saw that she’d seen him.

“Mr. Williams,” Khela said. “You know I don’t see players, you’ll have to talk to Coach Dennison.”

“Oh, it’s nothing game-related, Ms. Caldwell,” Dean assured her. His green eyes briefly swept over the office before coming to rest on her. “The team’s going out for a drink tonight with Coach and we wanted to invite you along.”

“That’s sweet, but I’ve got plans tonight,” Khela replied. It was a flat-out lie, but she wasn’t interested in a night out on the town with her baseball team. Well, to be fair, it did sound enticing, but business and pleasure wasn’t a mix she wanted happening. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” She returned her attention to her computer and proceeded to pretend Dean didn’t exist.

“Actually, Ms. Caldwell,” Dean said suddenly. “There’s something else I wanted to ask.”

Khela made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Maybe some other time.”

“It’ll be quick,” Dean promised.

Khela sighed and leaned back in her chair. If this were any other team member, she would have shooed him away fast, but Dean was special, and not just because of his value to the team. It was just hard to say no to Dean. There was something about his manner – assertive and confident without being arrogant, dominant while maintaining respect – that made Khela want to go easy on him. “Ten seconds,” she allowed.

“I was thinking, it’d be good for the team if you came to our practices more often,” Dean said.

Khela didn’t want to do that. “Dean, you must understand that I am a busy woman. This university has so many sports teams. I can’t spend all my time on you guys.”

“But Ms. Caldwell, I’ve asked the other teams,” Dean said. “You never show up at their practices except on the first and last days of training. You already show up to our days more often than theirs, why not make it more common? We won’t tell.”

Dean was a persistent, intelligent guy. He’d gotten Khela cornered. Khela had always enjoyed watching the baseball team practice, mostly because Dean was there – he was a true sportsman, extremely skilled, and humble despite knowing how good he was. It was like watching an artist at work. She couldn’t resist an occasional peek.

“Since you already know I spend more time watching your team practice, it’s unreasonable to ask for even more,” Khela replied shortly. “Out of my office, now.”

“But Ms. Caldwell, the team does so much better when you’re there,” Dean protested.

“Doing well at practice is nothing compared to the real game,” Khela replied simply. “If you need me to be there in order to perform well, then there’s something wrong with the team, not me.”

“Then maybe you could give the team more support during games?”

Khela narrowed her eyes at Dean. He looked like he was trying his hardest to look innocent, which was an odd sight on such a muscular guy. Her eyes trailed over his form for a moment before she shook herself. She was more than ten years his senior, she had no place being attracted to him. “That is your coach’s job, not mine,” she said coldly. Dean was standing directly in front of her desk now, looming over her as she sat in her chair. Everything about him exuded confidence and determination. Khela shook herself again. They were entering dangerous territory.

“But if we perform amazingly when you watch us practice, imagine how good we’d be if you were cheering us on during the actual games!” Dean pressed on. “Ms. Caldwell, the team would benefit so much from having your open support. Promise, the results will be obvious!”

Khela fought to keep from rolling her eyes as she fought to stop herself from being too nice to him. “Perhaps you should put more effort into your training, Mr. Williams, if you need someone to spew a bunch of words at you in order to perform well.”

Dean’s expression darkened immediately, but being smart, Khela knew he would understand that it was time to retreat. “As you wish, Ms. Caldwell,” he said brusquely. He turned and walked out of the office, closing the door politely behind him, but Khela could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves. He was fuming, and Khela understood. After all, he only wanted the best for his team.

Khela didn’t know what to make of Dean. A part of her enjoyed his attention, as he seemed very selective about whom he paid extra attention to, and she was flattered by that. The other part of her recognized that her undeniable favor of him was something she should be concerned about. She couldn’t deny that there was something about him that was interesting, and he was mature in ways that even men her age weren’t. And he had the added benefit of youth and being good-looking. Khela knew liking him was perilous, so she had to be careful – even if it meant being a little cruel.

She shook off thoughts of Dean and turned back to work.

It wasn’t long before she looked up again and noticed the clock marked 8pm. She knew it was unhealthy to work unpaid overtime just because she wanted to, but she had so much work to do. Admittedly, she was a bit of a workaholic and would often stay late to fill her otherwise empty evenings. She could do other things if she wanted to, but this kept her quite happy until she could go home, have dinner and a glass of wine, and read a good book. Or maybe spend a night out with her friends.

Actually, a night out didn’t sound too bad. Khela began to pack up as she thought about it. She could do with a good drink and some company. She hadn’t gotten laid in a while either, which was mostly her fault as she’d been too wrapped up in the upcoming sports seasons to go out and take someone home. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to try and change that.

CHAPTER THREE

Dean was still mildly annoyed at Ms. Caldwell’s unreasonable behavior as he and his team hit up a local campus bar for the night. He refused to show it, as he wouldn’t want to put his team out of their high spirits, but he was frustrated by her continued refusal to act like an Athletic Director should.

Perhaps asking her to come to a night outing with them was a bit of a stretch. After all, she almost never came to practices, maintained her distance during games, and never spoke to the players unless she was unable to ignore or avoid them. For her to agree to go to a bar with them would have taken a miracle.

What was her problem? Dean would question whether she was any good at her job, but she clearly was. The sports teams had shaped up after her discussions with the numerous coaches on campus, and Dean definitely knew she was intelligent and sharp. But why was she refusing to connect with any of the teams she was managing? It didn’t make any sense. Knowing the teams better would help her make better judgements and decisions, right?

Dean was jogged out of his thoughts by one of his teammates slapping him on the back.

“Come on, Dean, we want a toast,” he grinned.

The other team members perked up at that, laughing and adding, “Speech!”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, man, this here’s about all of us, not just me.”

But the Scorpions weren’t having it.

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” The whole team began chanting, attracting the attention of the other people in the bar, who began to look over curiously.

Dean laughed and gave in, standing up. The rest of the team cheered, which only gained them more attention. Dean knew this could go one of two ways – either they’d simply watch in mixed feelings of interest, annoyance at the noise, and indulgence, or they’d recognize him or the team and come up to ask for autographs. He didn’t mind either, and he’d gotten quite used to being mildly famous over the past year.

“Alright team!” he said, his voice loud enough to be heard by his whole team, and consequently the rest of the bar. He picked up his mug of beer and his teammates quieted down to listen to him. “As you all know, the season begins next week, and our first game is against the Carrowhead Eagles. The Eagles did pretty well last season. Formidable foes. I’ve heard a few of you talking, and I know we’ve all got those first game nerves.” Dean paused to look around at his team, and saw their eyes staring at him, riveted. He glanced over at Coach, who nodded as their gazes met.

Dean started up again. “But I know within us all is a desire. A burning passion to win this game, and to win this whole fucking season. And I believe that we can do that. And I know you’re thinking, of course you gotta say that, Dean. But I’m not saying this out of obligation. I am saying this because I am looking at the finest fucking baseball team Stablesmith has seen in years. We learn from the mistakes of our predecessors, we work harder to do better, work smarter and tougher, and we make those before us proud.” Dean paused once more to smile before continuing.

“I know you’re expecting some sort of ‘give 110%’ type speech from me, but I think I’ll leave that to Coach for the pre-game pep talk.” A few laughs greeted his words. “Instead, I urge you to make good memories. What kind of memory do we want in the future?” He raised his voice, hyping the team up. “Do we want a memory of us practicing so hard that the sport stopped being fun? Do we want memories of overtraining and hating practice sessions?” The team shook their heads. “That’s right, no! Do we want memories of crumbling under the pressure, of considering one defeat to be our downfall? No!” More shakings of heads, this time some ‘no’s from the others.

“What we want is memories of working together as a team. Memories of celebrating each win because we fucking deserve it, and doing our best in each loss because we’re fucking awesome like that. Because someday, we’re gonna be out in the world, working desk jobs, getting married and having families, maybe playing in the big leagues, and the details of this season are gonna fade to gray. What we’re gonna remember are the memories we made, and it’s what we’re gonna talk about when we bump into each other when we’re old as Coach.” Some laughs, Coach rolling his eyes and shaking his head in mock-anger.

Dean made himself louder so his voice was a shout. “So let’s do our best fucking practices, hit the best fucking home runs, make the best fucking catches, and own this fucking season!”

The whole team cheered and clapped, laughing and chanting Dean’s name.

“To the motherfuckin’ Stablesmith Scorpions!” Dean shouted, raising his glass.

His cries were echoed, and everyone clinked their glasses together and drank deeply. Dean took a giant swig from his glass.

“Quite a speech,” someone said.

Dean jumped and spun around, and the whole team fell completely silent. Standing right in front of their tables, in the flesh, was Ms. Khela Caldwell.

CHAPTER FOUR

When Khela left her office at 8pm, she’d decided to go for a drink at a bar and attempt to take someone home with her. It was a good idea, really, it was. Unfortunately she’d gone to the nearest bar, and it happened to inhabited by the Stablesmith Scorpions.

In hindsight, she could have walked out the moment she saw them and gone to another place or just called it a night. But Dean was standing up, and he was addressing the whole team in a commanding, almost awe-inspiring voice, and it had been impossible for her not to stop and be entranced. Dean spoke with such exhilarating confidence, with just the right amount of humor and cheesy pre-game clichés mixed in with his uniquely powerful ideas. It almost excited her.

She should have walked away after the speech was over, but there Dean was, downing his beer like a champ, and the rest of the team was following him with something akin to respect. There was something magnetic about him and she felt the need to approach him and acknowledge him.