ABOUT THE BOOK
Title: HOME RUN
Author: Heidi McLaughlin
Series: The Boys of Summer
On Sale: June 6th, 2017
Publisher: Forever
Trade Paperback: $14.99
eBook: $4.99
LOVE ISN'T
A GAME . . .
I've given up everything for the chance to play major league baseball. Everything. Now I'm so close I can practically hear the crowd chanting my name. There's nothing that could take my dream away from me . . .
Unless I lose focus. And Ainsley Burke is the most beautiful, distracting woman I've ever met. When I'm with her, I can't think of anything else.
But no matter how much I want Ainsley, there's no room for love in my game plan. I can give her a quick tour of the bases, but that's it. Then I have to let her go. If she wants to think I'm a love 'em and leave 'em player, fine.
All dreams require sacrifice. I just wish this one didn't mean tearing out my own heart.
I've given up everything for the chance to play major league baseball. Everything. Now I'm so close I can practically hear the crowd chanting my name. There's nothing that could take my dream away from me . . .
Unless I lose focus. And Ainsley Burke is the most beautiful, distracting woman I've ever met. When I'm with her, I can't think of anything else.
But no matter how much I want Ainsley, there's no room for love in my game plan. I can give her a quick tour of the bases, but that's it. Then I have to let her go. If she wants to think I'm a love 'em and leave 'em player, fine.
All dreams require sacrifice. I just wish this one didn't mean tearing out my own heart.
BUY THE BOOK HERE
THE SERIES
Third Base, #1
Home Run, #2
Grand Slam, #3
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Heidi McLaughlin is a New York
Times and USA Today bestselling author. Originally from the
Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont with her husband and
two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper beagle/Jack
Russell, Buttercup, a Highland West/mini schnauzer, Jill, and her brother,
Racicot. When she's isn't writing stories, you'll find her sitting court-side
at her daughters' basketball games.
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RAFFLECOPTER
EXCERPT
“Where are we going?” I ask. I turn my ball
cap around to prevent it from flying away since her convertible top is down and
it looks like we’re heading toward the parkway.
“I thought we’d go to the beach.”
“Isn’t that like thirty minutes away?”
Ainsley glances at me quickly before turning
back and focusing on the road. “Do you have a curfew or something?”
I shake my head. “Nope, drive on.” I may not
have a curfew, but six a.m. comes very early, and it’s our last practice before
we start pre-season play. I suppose, since I went without much sleep in
college, one night now isn’t going to hurt me. Besides, it’s for a good cause.
I’m into Ainsley, and if she wants to take me to the beach, I’m going to let
her.
She turns up the radio and starts singing
along to the song. I know it as well so I join in, and before I know it, we’re
having our own karaoke party while we’re cruising down the road. When we hit a
stoplight, I expect her to stop singing, but she doesn’t, and the people pulled
up along the side of us start singing too.
Before I know it, we’re at the beach. The car
is shut off, the music has stopped, and the only thing you can hear are the
waves crashing onto the shore.
“Coming here at night affords me the ability to
sit and think without too many people around.”
“Is it safe?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I never thought about that. I
suppose in some aspects it’s not, but there are always a few other people
around so…” She gets out of her car before finishing her sentence. She
shouldn’t walk the beach alone at night, but who am I to tell her otherwise? I
quickly follow her, catching up with her in the sand.
We walk side by side until the dry sand turns
wet, and then we both sit down.
“When I was little, my mom used to bring me
here all the time. I’d swim and play while she read her book or she’d come in
the water with me. It’s funny, when you’re a kid, you have no worries in life,
but the minute you become an adult, everything changes.”
I wish I could relate. “My life was the
opposite. I’ve always had the pressure to succeed in baseball on my shoulders.
My dad, he was strict about everything. In fact, if he knew I was out here now
and not sleeping, he’d have something to say about that.”
“That’s sad.”
Shrugging, I slip off my socks and sneakers,
burying my toes into the cold sand. “It is, but I wouldn’t be where I am today
without that kind of structure.”
“Do you like playing baseball?” Ainsley slips
off her shoes and pulls her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them
tightly.
“I love it. I love everything about the
game.”
“Do you ever wish you had done something
else?”
I think about her question and wonder what
else I could’ve done. If my dad and I hadn’t turned to tossing the ball in the
backyard, where would we be? For us, it was therapeutic and a way for me to
express how angry and hurt I was that my mom had died. The harder I threw, the
better I felt. The more my dad cringed when he caught the ball, the more
satisfying it was that he was hurting as much as I was.
“I don’t know what else I would’ve done,
honestly. Baseball is what I know. My dad used it as a tool to help me cope
with my mom’s passing, and before I knew it, I was trying out for these elite
baseball clubs and making all-star teams. College and major league scouts would
come watch my games in high school, and I thought ‘Wow, this could be a career
for me.’ I was drafted out of high school but chose to go to college first. I
wanted something to fall back on in case baseball didn’t work out.”
“What’s your degree in?” She turns and looks
at me. The moon is casting enough of a glow that I can make out her facial
features. Now would be the perfect time to lean over and kiss her, but I have
to keep reminding myself that it’s not what she wants from me.
“Well, the only thing that made sense.”
Ainsley holds her hand up. “Don’t tell me,
it’s something to do with sports.”
I nod, holding back laughter. “Yeah,
broadcasting. I figure I can become a commentator or something when I retire.”
“Interesting,” she says, turning back toward
the ocean.
I lean into her, bumping her with my
shoulder. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I took the easy way out with my degree
or my career isn’t the same as a doctor or whatever.”
“Is it though?”
“Baseball is America’s game. It doesn’t know
social class, race, or any other classification. It’s a game every one can play
and afford to participate in. You don’t have to have straight A’s to go to
college to play ball. Hell, most players come to the majors right out of high
school. It’s a game for everyone.”
“A game that you make millions of dollars
at.”
“It’s no different than being an actor. We
bring entertainment to people.” I counter her claim.
“I
don’t like this argument,” she says.
“Me neither. I think we should talk about something
else.”
“Like what?” she asks.
Taking her hand in mind, I kiss the top of it
before meeting her gaze. “Like you going out with me.”
She shakes her head.
“I know, you don’t date athletes, so think of
me as a sports broadcaster.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she laughs.
“You’re hard to resist, Cooper Bailey.”
With those words, I pull her closer. “Then
stop resisting me, Ainsley.” This is my chance, and I take it. My lips brush
against hers lightly, testing her resolve. She’s either going to punch me, push
me away, or let me continue to kiss her.
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