Bonus Scenes for AFTER Reading Small Town Frenzy
PEACHTREE PASS SERIES
Griffin
Two months later after the epilogue in the book . . .
“You know who I am, Joe. I’m tired. I traveled all night and just want to see my wife and kid.”
“Sorry, you’re not on the list. So unless you prove—I’m just kidding, Griffin.” The gate lifts at the Dover estate, and he says, “Go on.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Hey, way to make us Hill Country folk proud. Two homers in one game. Big accomplishment. Bet those will help in negotiations for next season.”
“We’ll see.” I wave with two fingers, then drive onto the property to Cricket’s cottage. The house is almost done, but not quite. At least we have this place where we can stay until it is.
Contracts . . . Talks will be happening soon. Who knew the team would get footage of me playing in the fundraiser game? I owe my second chance at pro ball to Cricket for making it happen. If she hadn’t organized that game, the online footage wouldn’t have gone viral. I would never wish an injury on another player, but Pete Scholtz breaking his leg by motocrossing during preseason feels a lot like this was meant to be for me.
I’m playing the best of my career, but at thirty-five, my entire body hurts. Decisions will need to be made and pros and cons weighed. Do I keep playing for my pride, for the payday, and struggle walking when I hit my fifties like my dad? Or stop while I’m ahead, settle down in the Pass, and enjoy my family? Sucks it’s an either-or situation.
I sneak into the house just after two o’clock in the morning, lock the door, and get a glass of water before making my way down the hall. First, I peek into Jacob’s room because I miss him so much when I’m traveling. I kiss his head and touch his little chubby cheek, then kiss it, too.
I’m careful when closing the door, then I continue down the hall to the last door on the right. When I open it, it’s dark. Really fucking dark. The place is kept immaculate, so I don’t worry about tripping over anything while I make my way into the bathroom to shower before climbing into bed with my wife.
I close the bathroom door when I’m inside, then flip on the light.
“Looks like you hit another homer,” she says, propped on the counter with her legs crossed.
“Fuck me.” I grab at my heart, hoping I don’t end up in the hospital. “If I didn’t feel old already . . . fuck, babe.”
A strip of cotton clings to her tits. Not much else from what I can tell is below her waist. She knows how to welcome a guy home from a long month of travel. “What are you doing in the dark?”
“Stalking you.” I’d laugh, but the delivery was a little too deadpan for my liking. She then laughs, though, the sound airy and soothing to my heart. “That was an amazing homer.”
I move in to kiss her, knowing I might not be going to bed anytime soon if I do. “You like that? I did it just for you.” I’m willing to make the sacrifice.
She shifts, propping one leg up, and nope, there’s nothing down there. I was tired, ready for a shower and two days’ worth of sleep. I’m wide awake now and prepared to go to heaven with this beauty. “It wasn’t the homer in the game I was referring to.”
“No?”
“It was this one.” She reaches behind her and slides something on the counter next to her. My gaze shoots to hers and to the stick again. I close the gap and tap the small screen that reads “Pregnant.” I’m not sure what I can say. I’m not in shock and it’s not negative. It’s the opposite. She’s giving me another second chance to be there, to be a part of this huge event from the beginning. “Even birth control can’t stop you from scoring.”
I move my hand over to her thigh and run it up to slide around to her hip. “You’re pregnant?” The crack in my voice can’t be hidden, so I just own it. “You’re having a baby?”
“Your baby.” She grins. “Again.” When she covers my hand, she brings it up and rests it on her chest. “Feel that? Can you feel how my heart races for you?”
The strong and steady beat is showing off for me. “I can. I feel it, babe.”
A tear slips down her cheek, and she says, “I’ve never been happier in my entire life than when I met you and all the amazing things that have happened since. Thank you, Griffin, for coming back to my hotel room that night.” Laughter slips out. “I mean, imagine if you had been five minutes later or passed by ten minutes sooner.”
I grab her ass and slide her, legs spread, against me. “Let’s not imagine that.” Envisioning my wife meeting some other guy is the last thing I want to think about. “We could have blamed it on the moonlight, but let’s just call it what it is.”
With her gorgeous smile on full display, she strokes her hands down the sides of my neck, and asks, “What is it?”
“Meant to be.”
Ten months later . . .
The yellow house with white trim, blue shutters, and a matching door stands as a point of pride behind us as our backdrop. With my son seated on my shoulders, my wife at my side holding our new baby, River Greene, named after the water where we fell in love, we say, “Cheese.”
It’s not until we get the photo back, framed and ready to hang in our new home, that I see Cricket wasn’t smiling at the camera. She was smiling at me. Luckiest bastard in the world because she saw something in me when no one else did . . . My looks helped. The attraction between us was instant. The love will last a lifetime.
I hang the photo on the nail on the wall that leads up the stairs, then look at the others that help make this house a home. One of my parents, siblings, and me. Another of my dad chasing me at three when I escaped the bathtub and made a run for the pasture. Cricket says Jacob and I are twins at that age. I’d have to agree. Cute kid.
I reach up and touch the one of my mom holding me in my first photo. Dad took it of her in front of their home the day I came home to the ranch from the hospital. Whatever was broken inside me, Cricket healed, as if my mom had a hand in our reunion. I wouldn’t be surprised. She always did love a great love story, and my wife and I have one of the best. Breaking curses, we were generations in the making, in fact.
“Hey, Twenty-Two,” she calls from the living room. “Game is starting.”
“Coming.” I step back and take in the photos of her and her family, who have grown closer, and her mom has thawed in time. Her brother taking off to Paris might have helped that relationship along since they’re stuck with us now.
Eyeing the photos in the middle of the stairs where Jacob’s story begins, I move my attention to him holding his little brother for the first time. But the blank walls just beyond don’t bother me. We have years ahead to make more memories. Lucky bastard.
I walk into the living room, where my dad hands me a beer. “What did I miss?”
Delancy says, “The Cardinals are taking the field.” That there is a plate with two chicken wings next to her is huge progress. Baseball. Now wings. I can only imagine how things are going to change from here.
When I sit on the couch next to Cricket, she leans her head on my shoulder, and asks, “Do you miss it? Do you miss being a part of the game? Or playing for the Cardinals?”
“No.” God’s honest truth. “It was fun to live the dream again, but I missed being here with you more. My body isn’t destroyed—”
“It sure isn’t, sexy stuff.” If she keeps looking at me like that, we might be making another baby before the sixth inning. Vixen.
“I didn’t get to do this the first time. I want to be here for you and the kids. This is the dream I didn’t know I wanted until I met you.” I kiss the top of her forehead, then reach over to hold the baby.
She slides her glasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose, tucking her feet under her. Looking up at me with stars in her eyes, she whispers, “I love you, Greene.”
My wife doesn’t realize her stars are only a reflection of the ones I carry in my eyes for her. “I love you, too, Greene.”
The Peachtree Pass Series is now complete. Read Now: