Passion dominates the diamond in the second novel in this fun and flirty baseball romance series by the author of High Heat. (That’s me!)
Paul Dudley, president of the Plainview Thrashers, is spinning out of control. Preserving his family’s baseball legacy in these tough times takes everything he’s got, and constant clashes with his father have left him struggling for authority over the team and even his own future. So when sports reporter Willow Bourne, a one-night-stand from a year ago, walks back into his life, he knows he can’t give into his feelings for her—no matter how strong they are.
Willow never expected to see Paul again, and she’s got her reasons for keeping her distance. Except the more time she spends around Paul, the harder it is to hide her secrets—or stop herself from falling head over heels.
As the sparks between them fly, Paul discovers what Willow has been concealing from him, leaving him with a difficult choice—keep the team his top priority or make his own legacy by following his heart…
Single mother Willow Bourne has a mountain of debt, a newborn, and a brand-new job as a sports blogger. When her new boss sends her to Plainview, Indiana to profile Paul Dudley, president of the minor-league Thrashers team, she desperately needs for things to go right for once:
She swallowed to calm the fluttering rising in her stomach and tried not to think about how much was riding on this. Tracy, the Thrashers PR rep, had warned her that neither Paul Dudley nor his father, Walter, was completely on board with the idea of a long-term profile. She had to persuade them of the wisdom of the idea. Nate was counting on it, and counting on her.
Tracy led her down the hall and rapped on a half-open door. “Paul, Willow Bourne from Screwball is here.”
“Come in,” a masculine voice said from within.
Tracy pushed the door wide and stood back to let Willow pass. She entered and had a quick impression of a modest office decorated with photos and memorabilia before her eyes found the man behind the desk.
Her legs stopped working and her heart went cold.
She stopped dead, a jerky movement with no grace. His eyes were focused on his laptop screen. She remembered those blue eyes well. She saw them staring back at her from her son’s face every day.
His eyes flickered up to hers, froze and then looked back. “Willow?” The same shock and disbelief that had to be on her face was stark on his.
She had to make a split-second decision, and she did it from instinct. Keep cool and admit nothing. Yet.
Aware of Tracy watching them, she forced her legs to move her forward, extending her hand. “I’m Willow Bourne, from Screwball.”
Paul rose and took her hand, his own warm and strong, like she remembered from the night on the beach.
“I know. We’ve met. I mean, how have you been?”
She pulled her hand free and sat in one of the empty chairs in front of his desk, before realizing he hadn’t actually asked her to take a seat.
“Do you two know each other?” Tracy asked, her eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them.
“Yes,” Paul said, as Willow said, “Not really.”
Other than biblically, of course.
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