The driver refused to let Connor handle his own luggage but insisted on placing it carefully in the trunk as if it was filled with precious cargo. Connor didn’t want to disillusion him that the bag contained his new uniform, tee-shirts, and underwear.
“That pitcher hit him on purpose,” his new friend expounded passionately, his face getting red at the thought. “He knew his bat was hot. Probably thought if he could just get rid of him, and somehow deal with Gavin, he’d be a hero. Asshole.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t tell him that it was very unlikely that the catcher was deliberately hurt; he wasn’t up for the animated argument that would follow. Instead he slid into the passenger seat as the car battled its way out of the airport.
“By the way, my name is Joey Angelino.” The man thrust out his hand and shook Connor’s before giving him a fist pump. “So I gotta know. Why’d you come here instead of New York?”
Connor grinned, hearing the pride in the man’s voice and utter awe. Even though Philadelphia was recently rated by U.S. News as one of the best places to visit, it still retained an inferiority complex due to its proximity to Gotham City and the White House, both just a train ride away.
“I’m originally from this area. I started with the Sonics. Thought it would be nice to finish here, in New Jersey.”
He didn’t want to tell him that leaving Arizona wasn’t entirely his choice. Management had approached him and told him the organization wanted to make a change. Connor had a lot of respect for Chip Hale, and he could tell the man was genuinely upset at having to convey this message. He said all the right things about him being an asset to the club and a good influence in the locker room. But they had a kid coming up from AAA who was not only a decent catcher, but they could have him for peanuts while Connor was still considered a desirable player to trade.
They’d offered him a couple of choices, but when he suggested the Sonics, they were able to negotiate something quickly and now he was on his way.
“But you are retiring, right?” The man swiveled his head, and a horn blared behind them. He ignored it.
“Yeah. This is my last year. The Diamondbacks are a great ball club, but they are probably not going to be in contention this season. They are rebuilding, so my agent advised me to try and get on a team that has a chance to get into the playoffs.”
It was a well–practiced speech, and it seemed to do the trick. As they pulled into the rental agency, the driver thrust out his hand. “We are damned glad to have you here.”
Connor climbed into the driver’s seat, and before he drove off, Joey shook his hand once more.
“Good luck, Cuz. I’ll be watching.”
As he drove off, he thought about what he had said to the driver. It was true he’d wanted to finish his career here, where he’d grown up. And he wanted his final season to be fun. If there’s one thing he knew about the New Jersey team, they were a bunch of pranksters who didn’t take the game too seriously. And although it hadn’t been announced yet, the team was about to acquire a new starting pitcher, a guy named Carlos Morales, who happened to be one of the first players he’d caught and subsequently one of his best friends. Carlos had messaged him on Twitter, and was looking forward to playing together again. He would have a blast, and hopefully end his career with a World Series ring.
But as he entered his rented townhouse, he knew he’d come back for more than just the game. While baseball had been his life, he had gotten to the point where he wanted more than that. He had the trophies, the news clippings, the accolades. Now he wanted more: A real home. A wife.
Tracy Coleman. Her married name was Carter, but she would always be Coleman to him.
Glancing at his phone, he saw her Facebook image, a bouquet of roses. That made him smile—she always was not only beautiful, but a romantic.
He thought back to their first date, when she was all long blond hair, a white Monroe dress, and heels. She was a girly-girl, and never left the dorm room without makeup and earrings, but he liked that about her, the glamour and femininity. She was his first true love, and he’d never forgotten her. She’d married, of course, and that, he thought, was that.
Until he saw online that her status was now single…
As he walked into the gleaming designer kitchen and tossed his keys on the quartz countertop, he made up his mind. Not only would he do everything he could to help the Sonics go all the way this year, but he was getting back his girl.
And when Connor Jackson set his mind to something, he succeeded.
Love stories you’ll never forget
By authors you’ll always remember
eOriginal Romance from Random House
www.readloveswept.com
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