Small-Town Sweetheart (The Spring Grove Series Book 2) Read online

I crave it.

  I want it.

  Reed McElroy could love me something dirty, but he’d leave me behind.

  Question is, is that a bad thing?

  “I don’t get it, Del. If you hate him so much, why are you always talking about him?”

  “Because he bugs me,” I grunt out, hitting the ball once more and watching it sail to the fence. “I don’t get why he doesn’t like me.”

  “Del, everyone loves you.”

  “He doesn’t,” I call back to her before reaching for my beer. I lean into my bat as I take a sip. “He’s weird around me. Like his eyes are all hot and demanding, but his words are like a zapper! Remember the zapper?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I remember the goddamn zapper. You’re a nut.”

  “I’m nice, and of course, I like to chitchat. But he wants nothing to do with that.”

  “Then stop talking to him.”

  But I don’t want to. I know that’s the logical thing to do, the smart and sane thing. But I want him to like me. “I just want him to be nice to me.”

  “Or you want to bang him, and you won’t admit it.”

  I toss my empty can at her, and she laughs. “Aw, Delly likes Reedy.”

  I glare over at her. “How old are you?”

  “He is handsome, though, and so tall.” She chuckles. “I could write a nasty romance about him.” She then smacks her hands together, rubbing them as a brow shoots up under her ball cap. With a devilish grin, she says, “Reed’s callused hands pulled Delaney’s hair back as he buried his thick cock deep inside of her. He felt right, perfect, but oh so wrong. He doesn’t like her, but maybe he does. A soft moan leaves her red-apple lips as his teeth rake along her shoulder. ‘Give me more, Reed. Give it to me hard—’”

  “Are you done?” I ask, and good Lord, I know I’d come reading that damn book. If it happened for real, though… A girl can dream. I shake my head to get the thought out, looking wide-eyed at my best friend. “Jesus Joseph, Zoe Jayne, there are young ears around.”

  Gen looks around, confused. “Where?”

  “Me!” I inform her, and she laughs some more.

  “You know you want that book.”

  “I know that book would cause nothing but trouble.”

  “Oh, it would. That guy has one foot out of this damn town, and I’m pretty sure you were grown from the soil here.”

  I throw a ball up, smacking a line drive to the fence. I was. It’s never pissed me off before, but right now, it does. I’ve always had a thing for Reed. He’s always been a dick to me, but I never truly believed it was who he was. Maybe I am just a sweetheart and see the good in people, but I can’t help but feel there is more to Reed than what he lets people believe. I’ve seen glimpses of it, and just the thought has me yearning for more.

  I throw another ball up just as my mawmaw’s voice fills the field. “Hey, you two, dinner is ready. Clean up your mess and come on now.”

  The ball sails through the air once more as I call back, “We’re coming.”

  I drop my bat before glancing over at Gen, and she isn’t moving. “You gonna help me?”

  She nods with her eyes closed and then reaches down to pick up the can I threw at her. “Done.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter as I run out, collecting all the balls I hit out of frustration. I really don’t know what to do about this. Do I ignore him like Gen says, or do I continue trying to get him to see that I could still be his friend…or more? Maybe I should just let it go. He didn’t want me then, and he probably doesn’t want me now. I really need to get laid, is what needs to happen. It’s been a couple weeks since I broke it off with John Aaron. I need to find someone else to fill my thoughts—and me—instead of Reed.

  ’Cause all he’s gonna do is drive me crazy.

  I head to the bucket, dropping the balls in it as Gen pushes her cap up. “When is the season starting?”

  “Tomorrow,” I say dryly. She should know this; she’s playing for the church too, along with Theo.

  “Oh. Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to play.”

  I roll my eyes. “We’ll make you the bat girl.”

  “God bless you,” she coos, standing up and gathering her things. “But hey, I have an idea.”

  “Which is?” I ask, tucking the six-pack of beer into my bucket.

  Her eyes dance with amusement as her grin grows. “Nothing says you and Reed can’t have some really hot sex. You’re both obviously frustrated, and everyone knows the best stress reliever is a lot of hot sex. So, why not? And just leave it at that?”

  Leave it at that.

  Hmm, that wouldn’t be so bad.

  Chapter Ten

  Reed

  I drove two and a half hours away to get a TV and a microwave. After a couple days in this empty, silent cabin, I need something to watch. Even if it’s just Netflix, I need it. I was so close to Lexington, I almost went to my apartment to get my TV and microwave, but I didn’t want to leave Wilbur any longer than I already had. He doesn’t do well by himself. He might be a tad bit high-maintenance—not that I’m labeling him or anything.

  I was supposed to work this afternoon, or better yet, Dr. Ross had already put me on the schedule to work. I got out of it, but I’m still really annoyed I’m even on the schedule. I thought I was just helping out. But apparently, that isn’t the case. If anyone would like to explain to me how the hell that happened, I’d be grateful. I want to call my mom and rip into her for bamboozling me into working at the clinic. But usually when I try that, she rips into me. She made me cry last time I called to bitch at her. I was twenty-five. You don’t mess with my mom.

  Instead, I’m working at the very place I never wanted to work since it’s in town. And my vet tech three days out of the week is the very girl I wanted to steer clear of.

  Thanks, Dad. Oh, and Mom.

  Fucking hell, Delaney is pretty. Really pretty, and it bothers me how much I think so. How much I want to take her in my arms, feel my fingertips dig into her skin, and take those plump lips with mine. I want to taste her. I want to know if she tastes as sweet as everyone says she is. She tried talking to me the whole afternoon. She never stopped, even when I made it known I was ignoring her. I’m doing it for both of us. We wouldn’t be good together. She’s all sugary-sweet and kind, and people think I’m a jackass.

  If people hated me because of my dad going with the wrong person, they’d despise any kid who came from… Holy fucking hell, what am I thinking?

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I snatch the TV cord from Wilbur and plug it into the outlet. Wilbur looks at me, displeased, but I shake my head at him. “You can’t chew on that. I just bought you a basket of toys. Go on.”

  His ears perk, and I point to the basket. “Go get ’em, boy.”

  He bounces off playfully, and I can’t help it, I’m grinning like a fool. I love that dog. He’s my baby, and that is enough. I don’t know where the hell that thought from before came from, but one thing is for sure, I can’t ever think it again.

  When a knock comes to my door, I glance around the TV as Wilbur loses his damn mind, howling and barking. Devin walks in and puts his hands to his hips. “What’s all the racket, boy?” Wilbur is jumping way higher than his back legs and hips would like, but my brother grabs him and Wilbur wiggles in his arms, kissing him over and over again. “This dog is gorgeous.”

  “I know,” I say, standing up after pushing the TV stand back. “He’s my baby.”

  “You got a TV?”

  “And a microwave, before I off myself from starvation and lack of Netflix.”

  Devin’s gruff laugh fills the room. As I walk toward the couch for the remote to make sure things are working, I notice my brother’s tight white pants and bright-yellow McElroy’s Distillery tee. “Where’s your bat and glove?”

  Devin sends me a grin. “In the car. With yours.”

  I perk my brow at him as I turn on the TV, excited with the beautiful re
d screen comes up and that amazing N. Thank you, God. “What are you talking about?”

  “Came to see if you wanted to come play for the team.” Devin puts Wilbur on his feet, and he comes running toward me, but I know it’s not for me. It’s because I’m standing in front of his basket. “I got you a shirt, your glove, and you can use my bat. I know you don’t have anything else going on.”

  Wilbur is bringing toy after toy to Devin as I fall back on the couch. “Actually, I have a date with my dog and two bowls of hearty chicken noodle soup.”

  He gives me a dry look. “I can promise you action, hot girls in tight shorts and/or pants, and a double bacon cheeseburger with extra crispy tots at the diner.”

  That all sounds great, but that means I have to go into town. “Eh, I don’t know…”

  “Come on, I need you, man,” he begs, and I laugh.

  “You don’t need me.”

  “I do. Bryce’s punk ass is playing for the church, leaving behind his family’s team for God—”

  “Which we all know he needs to do. That boy has a lot of good to do before the Lord lets him in.”

  Devin points to me, his eyes wide. “I think that’s his plan!”

  I laugh out loud, shaking my head. He’s insane.

  “And so that leaves only me and Holden who can actually play well. Ambrosia is our bat girl, but all she does is read. Fuck, I need you, man. I have to play Delaney tonight, and she’s a force to be—”

  “Del, you say?” My attention spikes at the thought of seeing her in a tight pair of shorts again. “Del’s not on your team?”

  “No, she’s playing for the church too, and we all know she doesn’t need to.”

  Nope, the good Lord above has a throne just for Delaney Kate Abbot. “Is she still good?”

  He rolls his eyes. “So fucking good, it’s annoying. I hate her a bit, but then she makes me cookies, and I forget about it.”

  I smile as Wilbur lays his muzzle on my knee. I scratch his ears before looking back to Devin. “Can I bring Wilbur?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  I guess I’m gonna go play ball.

  With Delaney.

  Much to my dismay, Ms. Abbot is not wearing a pair of shorts.

  Instead, she’s wearing a tight, formfitting pair of baseball pants that hug that sweet ass of hers. Good Lord, I remember when she used to wear clothes to hide her body, but now, she wears them to flaunt it. I don’t mind one bit. I just wish I didn’t find her so damn hot.

  “Reed McElroy, you come here right now and give me some sugar!”

  I glance over to where Mawmaw Pearl is coming toward me. She has a beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other. I shake my head. “Mawmaw, you still drinking?”

  She looks at her beer and shrugs. “I gotta get through life somehow.”

  I snort with laughter as I bend down, hugging her tightly. When I pull back, she kisses me on the side of my mouth. I smell the beer on her, and I wish I could say it disgusts me, but it doesn’t. It’s just how I remember her. “You look like a spring chicken, I must say.”

  She flutters her lashes at me, her bright-red lipstick all over the can of her beer. “You’re too sweet. Look at you. I can’t believe how tall and handsome you’ve gotten.”

  I feign hurt. “Was I ugly back then?”

  “Well, you sure weren’t handsome.”

  I laugh as she gazes up at me with those knowing brown eyes. “You need some dinner.”

  It’s not a question, so I just shrug. “I’m just fine.”

  She shakes her head. “Come on over after church Sunday. I’ll make your favorite.”

  Oh. Oh God, yes. “Chicken and okra gumbo?”

  “Just for you.”

  “And you won’t tell Theo or Holden?”

  “Nope, all yours.”

  I want to kiss her. A dreamy look comes over my face as I say, “I think I might love you, Mawmaw.”

  “You sure do. All the boys do.” She flashes me a wink and then saunters away.

  For a seventy-something-year-old woman, she still knows how to make a man blush.

  Turning on my heel, I run right into Maren Mills. My old high school girlfriend. We ended on good terms. She was in it for the sex, and I was too. No hard feelings, but her eyes widen. When I look down at where she is holding a large and growing belly, my eyes mirror hers. “Holy shit.”

  She scoffs. “Well, hello to you too, Reed.”

  “Maren, wow, it’s good to see you,” I say, leaning over and kissing her cheek. She hasn’t changed at all. She’s still beautiful, with a round face and bright-blue eyes, and even pregnant, she is slim and toned. Her golden-blond hair is up in a high ponytail, and her makeup looks like it was professionally done. She is hot, but she was hotter in the back of my truck.

  “You too, Reed. I didn’t know you had come back. Everyone was saying you wouldn’t.”

  I shrug, hating like hell that no one can keep their mouths shut around this damn town. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to. But you know my mom… She’s hard to say no to.”

  “I hear ya on that.” She moves her hands along her belly, and I grimace. “I’m pregnant.”

  “No, really? I thought maybe you ate a whole bunch of tacos.” Her grin falls, and I realize I shouldn’t have said that. “I’m joking. I know. You look amazing.”

  Her smile reappears, and she waves me off. “Thanks! I’m married too. You remember Ronnie, don’t you?”

  “Ronnie Crow?”

  She nods happily and then points to the field. I look to where she is pointing, and beside Delaney is Ronnie. My gaze lingers on Delaney for a moment more than I should, and then Delaney’s eyes meet mine. They burn with fire as she glares. I don’t know what that look is for, but I look away quickly.

  “Oh, there he is.”

  “We’ve been married ten years now. We have six kids, and this is number seven.”

  I want to say so many things. It’s hard being a smartass, but I hold back. “Congratulations. Really, that’s wonderful.”

  “It is,” she agrees. “How about you? Wife, kids?”

  Before I can answer, though, Devin is calling my name. At that moment, I decide I’m buying his dinner tonight. He just saved me from telling the whole town my business. You tell one Spring Grove resident…don’t worry, everyone will know by the end of the day.

  “Sorry, I gotta run.”

  “Sure, good luck!”

  I run to where Devin is waiting for me, Holden beside him. “You still hit well?”

  “Well enough,” I say with a shrug. “I haven’t placed a ball in forever though.”

  “Okay, well, their center right is weak, and I hate to be an ass, but I need you to hit it there.”

  I look out to center where a feeble old man stands. “Is that our mailman?”

  Devin nods, not the least bit ashamed of what he is asking. “Yeah, and he can’t catch for shit. Hit it to him and get on base.”

  I sort of feel bad. Moe has been our mailman for as long as I can remember. He’s always been nice to me. “Isn’t that mean?”

  “No, we’re trying to win. The pot is over eight grand this year.”

  “Really?” I ask, my mouth dropping open. “Damn.”

  “Yeah, dude, this town has been making some money on softball since you left,” Holden adds, and I nod slowly.

  “Wow. Cool.”

  “All right! Let’s play ball!” Delaney’s voice carries over to us, but when I look at her, she glares right back at me.

  “What the hell is wrong with her?”

  Holden shrugs. “I don’t know. You two are always hate-eye-fucking each other.”

  “Hate-eye-fucking?”

  “Yeah, acting like y’all hate each other, but really, you two want to fuck.”

  I’m flabbergasted. Sister Engelmann is on third with a Snickers in her mouth. I guess she’s still battling diabetes, but she hasn’t changed a bit. She still scary, still old, and when she glares back at us, I want to hide.
“Language, Holden Abbot. Don’t make me come over there.”

  Holden cowers away. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ha-ha,” I tease, and he flips me off as the game starts. His words from before mean nothing, though. We don’t hate-eye-fuck each other. We don’t even look at each other like that. Well, I look at her like that now, but that doesn’t mean she’s looking at me.

  Holden is an idiot.

  We’re batting first, and as Devin starts for the bag, he pins Delaney with a look and then points his bat at her. “You’re pitching left, right?”

  She rolls her eyes, moving the big yellow ball in her palm. “Yes, crybaby Devin.”

  “It isn’t fair, and you know it!”

  “Ain’t my fault you can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

  Man, I like her spunk. I smile as Devin flips her off. Of course, Sister Engelmann gets on to him, but everyone laughs it off.

  “She’s pitching left? Isn’t she a righty?”

  Holden nods. “Yup, but no one can hit off her if she’s pitching right.”

  Oh, that makes sense, I guess. When Delaney pitches, the ball has a bit of a spin on it, but Devin hits it. Not far, only to the shortstop, and immediately gets out.

  As he walks back to the dugout, I give him a look. “You suck.”

  “You watch. She pitches funky, and you think you can hit it, but you can’t.”

  I look back to Delaney as she twirls the ball in her hand. “I can hit off her.”

  “Which is why I wanted you on my team,” Devin calls to me as our next batter gets out. “Now, please, go get on base.”

  I don’t move. I’m studying Delaney as she moves the ball from her palm to her glove, a satisfied little grin on her face. She loves this. This is her evil side that no one really knows about. This side of Del loves winning, and it doesn’t matter who she hurts in the process. She’s always been damn good. She should have gone to college or done something big, but we grew up without social media. Scouts didn’t see people the way they do now. Since Delaney was never leaving Spring Grove, her talent was never going to be seen.

  Pity.

  I take the bat from the bat holder and head for home plate, swinging the bat as I walk. I can feel Delaney’s gaze on me. Unlike everyone else, I’m playing in a pair of basketball shorts and my brand-new number twenty-nine McElroy’s Distillery shirt. I wear my ball cap low but high enough that I can see Delaney perfectly as I warm up. I haven’t swung a bat in years, but this feels right. I was here many times growing up. On this field, with Delaney on the mound. She was the reason I could hit anything and how I got a scholarship for the last three years of school after trying out for the team.