I regard the shot one more time. The three of us, living life. Loving hard. “It absolutely does.”
Later, he’ll post it, let the world see what we have.
What we have is beautiful and fierce. There is nothing one-time-only about our family.
This is us, for all time.
For always.
THE END
Author’s Note: This book was written in 2020, and the country of Colombia is among those that currently allow same-sex couples to adopt internationally. That’s why I chose that country for Jackson and Stone.
Want to know Declan’s story? He has a sexy, passionate romance coming soon in Scoring With Him and you can preorder it everywhere! Read on for a snippet below…and sign up for my MM newsletter to be notified of new books with LGBTQ heroes!
Have you read A GUY WALKS INTO MY BAR? That’s my sexy American hockey player meets a charming British bartender romance and I think you’ll love it! It’s my first MM romance! Grab it everywhere! And read on for a preview of SCORING WITH HIM below!
Declan…
A good thing about being a major league baseball player is that dates aren’t hard to come by.
The pickings are plentiful, and I definitely enjoy the offerings that come my way.
I’ve wined and dined TV stars, entertainment executives, a footballer from the Renegades, a rich-as-sin internet executive, a blues singer.
Maybe that sounds like I’m bragging.
Maybe I am, but reality is what it is.
I’m picky, and I get to choose. The whole situation works out well for me. I date here and there, on my own time and dime. I keep most of it off social media and that works out just fine.
I might like dudes, but I don’t post about it, or trot around San Francisco showing off my preference for dick.
I’m not in the closet, but I am a private guy. This approach has served me well for the last three years in the major leagues.
Especially since I follow one ironclad rule.
Don’t date a baseball player.
The corollary to that is don’t hook up with a baseball player.
And the footnote is definitely don’t ever ogle one either.
Which means it should go without saying—don’t date one on your own team.
In fact, that goes without saying so much that I don’t even have to say it to myself.
Because I’d never do it. That’s the height of foolishness.
It’s been an easy enough guideline to follow. Like I said, there aren’t that many options on pro sports rosters, and there are tons of options outside of the ballpark.
That’s where I like to play.
But then one February, as spring training begins, a certain hotshot rookie walks into my locker room.
Grant Fordham.
The rising star.
The guy you want behind the plate.
The guy who’s everything I need to resist.
Looks like my resolve is about to be put to the test.
Grant…
Not gonna lie.
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for since I was four years old.
Since I first picked up the well-worn baseball glove my father gave me. Since I threw a ball to him in the backyard. Since he tossed it back to me and I caught it on the first try and he said, “You’re going to be an all-star catcher someday.”
He was right. That’s what I became. And I’ve worked my ass off ever since then to get the call to The Show.
Years of practice.
Early mornings.
Late nights.
Long games.
Sore muscles, broken bones, heartbreaking losses.
But victories too.
High school state championships, college World Series, the Major League Baseball Draft. Then I spent one glorious year in the minors, and the call came.
Here I am.
It’s my chance to show my team that I have what it takes to be their starting catcher for the next decade. That’s how big my goals are, how bright my dreams are, how far I can see into my future.
I’ve always been a hopeful guy. I’ve always looked on the bright side. Believed in the positive.
Now it’s fucking happening and I couldn’t be more stoked.
As I head into the team’s spring training facility for the first time ever, a sense of awe spreads through my body. Wonder fills my veins.
Holy shit.
I look around. Stare at the plaques, the trophies, the photographs.
I’m in the presence of greatness, staring at the pics of all these guys who’ve come before me, won rings, snagged batting titles, earned Cy Youngs.
They played here first, took batting practice out on the diamond, and fielded ground balls and fly balls and bunted balls.
I get to do that. I can show my team, my manager, the whole damn world what I’m made of.
Nothing will distract me. Nothing will throw me off.
I make my way down the corridor, my shoes echoing against the concrete, as I say hello to everyone I pass. I greet the groundskeepers, the janitors, the staffers, asking how they’re doing, because that’s who I am.
I like to be one of the guys. I like to be the one people can turn to if they need a friendly face, an encouraging word. That’s how I fit into the team and the organization.
I turn the corner towards the locker room, excitement tripping through my veins since I’m about to walk into it as a member of the twenty-five-man roster.
But I nearly run smack-bang into a wall of man. A two-hundred pound, six-foot three, mass of muscle and cut abs and carved jaw.
A man sporting a grin that makes my skin tingle.
“Hey there.”
That’s it. Two words. They’re all Declan says.
But already I know this is going to be a big fucking problem. The major league baseball player I’ve crushed on from afar for the last three years is my new teammate.
And I’m going to have to pretend like I haven’t thought of scoring with him so many damn times.
Scoring With Him is coming soon and you can preorder it everywhere!
If you’re interested in Nadia’s story, you can find it in THE VIRGIN RULE BOOK!