The Last Strike by A.R. Henry

Chapter 1

This was not what I dreamed for myself at twenty-four. I thought I’d be happily married, living in a two-story brick house with a Golden doodle named Bruno, but no. Life had other plans for me. Well, life had other plans for my boyfriend. Make that ex-boyfriend. Those plans being a twenty-year-old college student named Brandy that my professor ex-boyfriend said was “gifted”. Yeah, that’s how the asshole told me he was taking on extra hours at the college; that the department needed him to work with the more “gifted” students. “Gifted” in sucking his—

“Court! Where do you want this box? It’s labeled ‘kitten stuff’ but last I checked you don’t have a cat!” Shit. The last thing I need is my best friend opening that box and giving me more shit.

“Just leave it in the hall!” I yell back at her.

Ashley Jennings, my best friend whom I’ve known since diapers, is helping me move into a new townhome in Knoxville, Tennessee. I decided to move here from West Virginia after the breakup. Josh, my ex, and I met at college there while we were both studying to get our teaching degrees. One phone call to my long-time best friend had me deciding to move back to our hometown. She promised me I would get three things out of living here: hospitality, home cooking, and hot men. Not that I needed the last one. I was definitely done with men for a while.

“Wanna go grab a beer and some food?” I ask her. “I think we got everything in from the truck. I’ll worry about unpacking tomorrow.”

“Yes! I have the best place to show you! I’m so excited my bestie is finally living in the same town, and I have someone to drag to all my favorite spots.” Ash tucks her blonde hair into a top knot as I follow her out to the moving van.

My best friend is what you would see if you googled “man’s dream woman”. She’s got long blonde hair, long tan legs, and a booty that I know for a fact is the product of her favorite late-night snack, Oreo’s. We’ve been moving my stuff in since 7 am, and somehow, she still looks like she just walked off a runway in Paris. I look like I just crawled out of the sewer. My long, chestnut brown hair is a ratty mess thrown up in a bun on top of my head, and I’m wearing a t-shirt that I’m pretty sure has holes in the armpits. Such a lucky bitch, but I still love her.

After returning the rental truck I get in her car, and we make a quick stop at her place to change before she drives us to a bar across town called The Stadium. It’s a rooftop bar aptly named because you can see over into the University of Tennessee’s baseball stadium. Not that I care for the sport, but it’s a nice atmosphere. We make our way to a table at the edge of the rooftop, and I let Ash know I’ll go get us drinks from the bar.

The place is crowded because it’s a Saturday night, but I manage to squeeze in and give my card to the bartender with our order. It only takes a few minutes for him to make our drinks and just as I turn to leave someone knocks into my arm and I feel the cool liquid as it spills down the front of my tank top. My white tank top. Which means that everyone at this bar can now see right through my shirt to my lacy, red bralette.

“Hey! Watch it.”

Oh no. Oh hell no. This asshat did not just say that to me.

“Excuse me,” I shriek looking up. That was a mistake.

My breath catches as I stare up at the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My god. Just the sight of him has struck me absolutely dumb. He’s tan from the summer sun, which has lightened his brown hair that has a few grey streaks coming through. He has a small beard that also has some greying, but other than that he has no signs of aging except for a few crow’s feet around his stoic, brown eyes. Eyes that are currently looking down fiercely at me.

My brain somehow is flashing through my future with him showing me our wedding and having babies.

I need to find out if he’s too old to have my babies.

Did he just check me out?

Ohmygod he totally checked me out, but he’s still frowning down at me. When my wandering eyes make their way back up to his I finally remember how to talk and say, “You bumped into me, wise guy. You owe me a new drink,” but it comes out all wrong and more flirty than I intended.

He rakes his gaze up and down my body once more, and I feel his eyes like a caress on my skin, lighting a fire inside me I didn’t even know burned. Then he makes a “Hmph” sound before turning around resuming his conversation with his friends. The fire turns to ice in seconds before turning back into a blazing inferno of anger.

The absolute nerve of this asshole. I’m sure my face is bright red with a combination of anger and embarrassment.

Don’t do it Court, I tell myself. No matter how much this jerk resembles a Hemsworth brother, I still have the urge to punch him right in that pretty face.

I cannot get arrested.

I’m an elementary school teacher for goodness sake.

I put my big girl panties on, take a deep breath, then turn and go back to the table where Ash is. When I get close enough, I see her looking at me with big eyes and a grin. I plop down and try to use the napkins on the table to clean up my tank top.

“Court.”

I don’t look back up. I just keep scrubbing at my shirt.

“Court.”

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.

This is pointless. This shit is not coming out.

“Court.”

“What!” I finally snap.

“Do you know who that is?”

“Umm yeah some asshole that spilled my drink all over me and didn’t have the decency to say sorry or buy me another one.”

“That’s Weston Bell. He’s the head baseball coach for UTK.” She’s still looking back at him with her mouth open like a damn fish.

“Flies are getting in Ash.” I roll my eyes. “The man is a complete dick. I’ll be lucky if I never see him again.”

“You might be the only woman in the entire city to have ever said that about him. I think every single woman in this state has tried getting in his pants. People are starting to say he swings the other way because he’s been the head coach for four years now and hasn’t had so much as a date to any game or function. Although, I say they’re full of trash because he’s super private. I don’t think he’s ever been photographed outside of the baseball stadium. Seeing him here is like seeing an extinct animal. It just doesn’t happen. You should go get his number!”

“Hell no! I can see why no one wants to be with him. Once they get close enough, they realize they should run in the opposite direction. I don’t want to talk about him anymore anyways. Let’s change the subject.” The server luckily comes with our food Ash ordered while I was at the bar, and she takes the opportunity to ask about my new job.

This is something I can talk about. My new job is at West End Elementary School as a third-grade teacher. I start in two weeks at the beginning of the school year, and I couldn’t be more excited. Teaching has been my dream since I was little, and nothing could ruin that for me.