FOOTBALL ROMANCE: SECRET BABY ROMANCE: Going Pro (Bad Boy Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (Contemporary New Adult Sports Romance) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Going Pro Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Rekindled

  The Neighbors

  In Love With My Brother’s Best Friend

  Fun With My Dad’s 2 Best Friends

  Mob Baby

  ***WARNING: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language that may be considered offensive to some readers. This publication is intended for adults ONLY. Please ensure that this book will not be accessed by underage readers.

  By: Vanessa La Porte

  Copyright ©2016 by Vanessa La Porte

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without

  permission in writing from the author. Reviewers are permitted to

  quote brief passages in reviews.

  © Copyright 2016 by Vanessa La Porte. All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Going

  Pro

  Secret Baby NFL Romance

  By: Vanessa La Porte

  Going Pro

  Chapter 1

  His jacket caught attention for the fame of its label but Kristina noticed him for an entirely different reason. Walking along easily in the depths of the crowd, as much a part of it as a bird within a flock, moving with the faceless others like her all going to their own destinations, she turned her head to watch him stride by.

  She did know that brand of clothing, however. She didn’t particularly like the clunky meld of leather and wool, but a jacket like that fetched well over $500, and that was online where everything was cheaper –and people in her line of work stayed offline as much as possible. The diamond stud in his ear served to solidify her interest, but what really sold her on him was the way he attracted young women like a magnet. For good reason, of course. She recognized a star football player when she saw one. Living in Cincinnati would do that to a person even if they had no interest in sports, like her. But he wasn’t just a football player in Cincinnati. No, from the orange stripes on his jacket, he obviously belonged to the Bengals, working the NFL. This meant he would take no notice of her if she happened to join the crowd orbiting him.

  My next target, Kristina thought calmly, and began to carefully weave her way towards him through the ebb and flow of the weekend traffic. The streets and sidewalks were badly congested, everyone enjoying the good weather for as long as it would hold, but as far as she was concerned the conditions were perfect for an impulse hit. No doubt such a man was used to being accidentally bumped into, or even groped by the more adventurous of his adoring fans. Even if she slipped up and nudged him a little, he would never even notice.

  And she never slipped up. Others like her worked in teams of two or three but she never needed that handicap. Every bit she made from this, she came by through honest skill.

  The thought made her laugh a little, turning the sound into a cough under her breath. Her mark disappeared inside a coffee shop. She took up a perch a good hundred feet away from the storefront, sitting on the back of a bench and swinging her legs. A man ten years her senior wandered over after only a few minutes of waiting.

  “Hey, good-lookin’,” he drawled in a heavy Southern accent.

  Kristina turned her head a little to acknowledge him without ever looking away from where her mark would exit the store. “Hi, there,” she said softly, raising the tone of her voice. Face hidden beneath the coils of hair piled up high on top of her head and dangling down, he would never notice she wasn’t exactly looking at him. She was reasonably sure this man wasn’t looking at her face anyway. “Can I help you?”

  “You want a smoke?”

  The stranger offered her the pack. Grimacing inwardly, Kristina smiled brightly and accepted. He offered her a flame next, and she cupped her hand around the weak ember to protect it from the wind. Taking a long draught, filling her lungs with smoke, she blew out a smoke ring.

  Her admirer laughed huskily, then grunted as ash stung his eyes. In the split second it took for him to blink and start to comment, her hand slid out and into his pocket and away again. His wallet went into her purse, as easily as that.

  For the next five minutes, she tolerated him and smoked and laughed at his awful jokes, casting flirtation his way whenever the conversation dulled. As long as she kept him distracted, he would never know she stole from him until long after he was gone. This poor man out looking for a good time wasn’t what she had in mind, but at least if she failed with that football player she still might have a little something to play around with later.

  The front door of the coffee shop opened. A flash of orange in the midst of a mob of women caught her attention, and the football player stepped out with a frappé in one hand and an old maid with blue eyeshadow in the other. They were both laughing, and that poor old woman looked on the verge of fainting with sheer joy. Rolling her eyes, Kristina stubbed out her cigarette and bid farewell to her smoking friend.

  As soon as she was out of sight, she spit on the ground and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Smoking was a nasty habit, and floral print dresses like the one she wore were a scourge of the earth, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the good of the job. There were quite a lot of things she learned how to do in order to make her life just a little bit easier. In these situations, blending in was key.

  She resumed her steady pursuit, sliding effortlessly from one group to the next and ever so slowly gaining on the unsuspecting mark until she was only ten feet away and at the cusp of his little posse. Time to make my move, she thought, and tapped the nearest girl on her bare shoulder. The weather hardly called for a tank top and miniskirt, no matter how nice it might be to have a break from heavy rain, but this teenager didn’t seem like the sensible type anyway.

  “Oh, my god,” Kristina whispered conspiratorially, making a secretive motion with her hand as if that would keep anyone else from hearing. “Is that…?”

  The other girl drew slightly away from the crowd. Her eyes were as round and glassy as diamonds. “It totally is,” she whispered back, completely drawn in and susceptible. Before she said anything else, Kristina casually stretched out her arm, around to the girl’s back pocket, and used only her middle finger and the very tip of her index finger to tease a couple bills away from the loose bundle of change tucked in there. “It super is. Like, can you believe it? Simon. Fuh-reaking. Danforth. Oh, my god. He’s just like a celebrity!”

  Sounds vaguely familiar but whatever. Shrugging internally, the dollars safely tucked away in her purse for now, Kristina feigned a convincing gasp. “No way!”

  “Totally!” the girl shrilled. Kristina stepped past her, trying to look like she was in a hurry to confirm for herself that this man in his gross luxury jacket was the real Simon Danforth. A sea of hideous pastel and offensive seam-work parted around her as the other women automatically let her go by, obviously wanting to let another in their midst for some inexplicable reason. Why women went for shallow guys like th
is, she had no idea.

  Directly behind him now, almost breathing down the back of his neck, she looked down and saw his butt straining against a pair of dark jeans. The bulge of his wallet stood out over one cheek, no doubt filled to brimming with all manner of IDs and various credit cards, and, she hoped, a few large bills.

  With the moment upon her, she reached out and slid her middle finger just beneath the lip of his pocket. Hard, slick leather beneath her skin warmed her right down to her toes with excitement. Hell, maybe I can dump out his personal stuff on the sidewalk for the idiots to pick through, and I can pawn this wallet.

  In that instant, Simon the football player stiffened at her touch and turned around. Kristina snatched her hand away but it was too late. Simon held her wrist now and looked right into her eyes. With horror, she saw he wore a dopey smile that left dimples on perfect cheeks. His short hair was tousled and spiked with gel, a perfect wave.

  And he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the softness just above her knuckles, like a gentleman. “Hi,” he said, and his sickly-sweet grin widened.

  I may have made a mistake, Kristina thought grimly, and groaned.

  Chapter 2

  All through the next day, Simon thought of the mysterious woman who groped him in the middle of the street. Through breakfast, practice, and lunch break; he simply couldn’t help it, not when he’d seen the perfection looking back at him. Strangely, despite having dared to touch him where those other women treated him like an unbreakable idol, she hadn’t wanted to stick around any longer even though he practically begged her to. Her momentary show of bravery enticed him more than any amount of arrogance ever could.

  And now he would never see her again, but dammit, he had to. There was no reason not to try. Jerri had just dropped him like an anchor after only three months of being together and quite frankly, he was glad. He was free again, able to sail around wherever the current of his mind took him.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t have the resources to spare to find her. With no family, all his money was divided between a savings account and a smaller, primary account meant for spending. If he had to pay someone to track her down, he could absolutely afford it.

  Unfortunately, the rest of his time today and for the next several days were full of training and preparation, so he had to use his free time to relax and not get stressed over the mysterious ways of women.

  As luck would have it, he never even needed to pick up the phone.

  Heading downtown from the subway, Simon took the long way around to the restaurant where he was meant to meet up with a friend from a rival team. He strolled through what was affectionately called the Beauty District of Cincinnati, a street devoted entirely to the latest fashion trends. He didn’t really get most of it, since everything he saw was either too flashy or inconvenient to actually be worth the price, and the makeup was gaudy –the hair was even stupider- but it was nice to walk down this way because all these people ran a lifestyle completely opposite to his. No one recognized him, and that was perfectly okay for once.

  Quiet was nice sometimes, he decided, even if it meant he counted at least five different people sneering at his jacket. He didn’t like it either and just shrugged away their opinion, but it had been an expensive gift from a fan and he would be loath to just let it sit in his apartment without being used at least once.

  Just as he was about to turn the corner and make his way to the restaurant, a small storefront across the street caught his eye. He didn’t know why, but he stopped in his tracks and looked at it.

  Nothing in particular stood out about the little store, a timid thing of slick darkness with only the thinnest of scarlet accent around the window frame, but Simon stopped all the same and looked for the sign.

  Amenable Designs, the sign proclaimed in neat, understated lettering. Before he knew it, his feet were carrying him across the crosswalk without looking. His heart began to pound. His nostrils flared for some reason but all he smelled was bubblegum perfume drifting down from the scene accessory shop a little ways back up the street. About halfway there, he found he was able to read the rest.

  Complete alterations! The tiny shop promised. His walk staggered drunkenly. Simon pulled himself closer still, intrigued now through the fog of temptation which pulled him onward. Tailoring and design in the same building? That seemed odd. Normally these kinds of stores narrowed in on one focus and ran with it, but perhaps…

  Through the window, he saw her.

  She wore a dashing, feminine tuxedo with a blood red tie slashing down over the prim hillocks of her cleavage, and her hair was perfectly tamed into timeless, classy curls. The enchanting creature standing in the darkened interior of Amenable Designs was a far cry from the wild-haired beauty which accosted him on the street yesterday but there was no mistaking the piercing focus in those eyes, or the pert curve of her mouth.

  Just the sight of her was intoxicating. All at once, he knew he had to have her. Whoever she was, she was about to be his.

  Mine, he thought, and strolled around to the front door and opened it.

  The woman from yesterday looked up, but she showed no sign of recognizing him. And now that he was actually inside, he realized the store was also not what it had seemed from the outside. From the beautiful, slick marble service counter to the displays of unique fabric and custom dresses, everything here spoke of dramatic beauty. And the room was larger than he initially thought, leading far into a back area which was marked only with a sign stating “Alterations” and nothing else.

  Two other people stood in the store, a middle-aged man with a dainty face and a woman who he could instantly tell was louder than she looked, but they only spared him a casual greeting and twin stereotypical smiles. Somehow, they could tell he was only here for her.

  “Can I help you with something?” she said, and her flat voice hit him in the stomach like an iceberg. He felt his ship start to sink a little.

  “I was just wondering if we’d met before,” he said, and offered his hand. “I’m Simon.”

  The woman stared blankly. “Nice to meet you, I suppose. I don’t recognize you, Simon. And if you’re just going to waste my time, I’d rather you left. I’m busy here.”

  Whoa. Doubt struck him. Maybe this wasn’t the same woman? Except, he would recognize her voice anywhere.

  “Look,” he lowered his voice, desperately trying to play whatever game she was starting with him, “I get if you want to be discreet but there’s seriously no one in here. Why can’t we just talk for a second?”

  A split second of emotion flashed in her eyes, completely unexpected. He thought he glimpsed a little fear, and it confused him deep inside. Quickly, the woman took his hand. “We’ll talk back here,” she whispered low and urgent, and pulled him into the back room.

  There was a rolling table of tools and measuring tapes in the back, along with a slightly raised stage. Simon stepped up onto it as the woman urged him up, then watched with bemusement as she picked up a length of tape and knelt to hold it up to his leg. From this angle, he could see so far down past her neckline he almost caught a glimpse of her nipples.

  Oh, oh. Careful, he thought, and struggled to get ahold of himself. Why is she scared?

  “What are you doing?” Simon asked curiously.

  She replied shortly, “Looking busy. Measuring you. What did you want? Talk quickly.”

  “I just…I saw you yesterday, you know?”

  “Are you going to tell the police?” She looked up. Her cold irises flashed like bitter crystals, defiant and edgy.

  “What?” He had no idea what she was talking about. “No! What are you talking about? I thought you were interested me and well, I’m interested in you, and I thought maybe I could ask you out for a coffee or something.”

  This woman whose name he still did not know immediately started to rewind herself like an old VCR tape, mentally backing up. “Oh,” she said, carefully. She stood. The measuring tape went back onto the table with all
the rest. “Oh. Well, Simon, I’m sorry, but I really don’t care for football idiots like you. And I have a business to run with no time for distractions. Thanks for your time but I’m really going to have to ask you to leave now.”

  No! I found you again by some miracle, I’m not letting you go again until I at least know your name!

  Chapter 3

  Having Simon show up on her doorstep was the last thing she expected to come of today. In light of her poor performance regarding him, she had elected to take the day off from her first love of pickpocketing and focus on her second. Amenable Designs allowed her to lift just a little bit more than she might have otherwise, rifling through the pockets of the garments brought into her, and it also gave her a way to study the upcoming trends. Knowledge was power. Knowing how and where people were expected to keep their personal items when they dressed gave her an advantage over others with her set of particular skills.

  Harry and Veronica were innocent, her designer and tailor, respectively. They knew nothing of her acts of ill repute, only that she occasionally gifted them with unexpected bonuses whenever a haul turned out particularly well. As the boss, she came and went from her own store throughout the day as she pleased and no one was the wiser as long as she occasionally returned to give a recommendation or answer questions.

  Up until now, everything had gone so smoothly she could hardly believe her luck. No one caught her and somehow no one recognized her. Yet, this bumbling football player managed to track her down without even knowing what was going on.

  Well, he might be bumbling, but he is attractive.

  Kristina felt her resolve die a little as she accidentally met his pleading gaze. It seemed like there might be only one way out of this situation but at least she could enjoy it.