Whoa! I Married the Pitcher: a BBW romance & Passport 2 Love collaboration (Wedded Curves Book 3) Read online

  Whoa! I married the Pitcher!

  Wedded Curves, book 3

  Megan Wade

  Contents

  1. Skyla

  2. Bryce

  3. Skyla

  4. Bryce

  5. Skyla

  6. Bryce

  7. Skyla

  8. Bryce

  9. Skyla

  10. Bryce

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Up Next…

  Coming soon…

  Also by Megan Wade

  Skyla

  I think I was fifteen the first time I saw Bryce Cardiff step up to the mound. I was up in the owner’s box, annoyed because I wanted to go to the river and hang out with my friends, do things that normal teen girls do—not hang out with my mom and her new husband at a baseball game. She was giggling like a schoolgirl while he talked close to her ear. So I got up and moved as far away as I could, practically pressing myself against the glass so I could focus on the game starting below us. Despite being the daughter of the team’s owner, I didn’t much like baseball. But when Bryce took position to deliver the starting pitch, my opinion morphed into one of great interest. He was beautiful. Broad shouldered, muscular arms, golden-brown hair, and an intense look on his face that made my insides flutter. Then for some reason, he looked up, right to where I was sitting. We locked eyes, he tipped the brim of his hat, then he smiled and threw a fastball.

  Strike one.

  I was his.

  It seemed crazy that at fifteen I thought so completely sure about a man I saw from a substantial distance, but the way my heart beat, the way my body responded, told me that he and I belonged.

  “You doin’ OK, sugar?” Bryce glances at me as we barrel down a vacant highway in the darkness. My hands are wrapped around my swollen belly as I breathe through an uncomfortable bout of Braxton Hicks. I’m not due for two weeks.

  “Yeah, babe. I’m OK. I’ll just be glad to get where we’re going. These bumpy roads are killing me.”

  He reaches over and threads his fingers in mine, holding me tight. “Not much longer.”

  I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, letting my mind wander as I try to come to terms with the reality of my current situation. Bryce and I are on the run. Not from the law, but from my stepfather, Malcolm Campbell. Not long after that game when I first saw Bryce, my mother passed away, taken out by a carjacker the police never caught. Malcolm became my legal guardian as well as the trustee of my mother’s estate. That meant he controlled the team, the money, and me.

  You know that Prince guy in Frozen who is quick to take over running the kingdom while Anna goes off to find her sister and he turns out he’s a scheming weasel? Well, that’s my stepfather to a T. In public, he’s everyone’s friend. In private, he’s a manipulative bastard who has gone out of his way to control me and the fortune I’m legally entitled to.

  In my mother’s will, she stipulated that her entire estate would be left to me and held in trust until I turned twenty-five—unless, of course, I were to marry sooner. In that case, the entirety of her fortune and holdings would be released to me as a wedding gift.

  Cue the paranoid stepfather. Malcolm went into overprotective overdrive, keeping tabs on me at all times and forbidding me to talk to boys, let alone date them. I was pulled out of the coed school I attended and sent to an all-girls private school. On the weekends, I had to tag along with him to baseball games, meetings, and functions. I was never allowed to mingle with the players. I was never allowed to be alone with a single male, everything I did was monitored. It was an absolute nightmare.

  But, like any teen, I had my ways of breaking free. Like, when Malcolm was in a meeting, I’d have to sit in his office and wait for him. There was a security guard on the floor making sure I didn't leave, but what they didn’t know was that I put gum in the stairwell door to stop it from closing. I had a secret cellphone that a friend got me, and I’d break out of the stadium and run to freedom—even if it was only for one hour a week.

  This went on for years, and in all that time, I never once got the chance to be in a room alone with Bryce. Three years of exchanged glances and polite words in front of my stepdad. Three years where I longed to know if he felt any sort of quickening of his pulse in the way that I did. It seemed silly, I was probably just a kid to him—the owner’s daughter, someone he had to play nice with. But still, in my lonely heart, I pinned all my hopes and dreams on him. And those hopes didn’t become a reality until I snuck down that stairwell on the day of my eighteenth birthday and found him there waiting for me.

  “Skyla,” he said, casually leaning against the wall like meeting up in the stairwell was something we always did.

  “Bryce.” There were so many more things I wanted to say than just his name, but my nervous heartbeat was pounding in my ears, making it hard for me to hear. I stopped moving when I was a step away from him, my fingers itching to reach out and touch him, run my fingers down the hard planes of his chest, feeling the thick cotton of his team shirt. I gulped.

  “I see you,” he whispered, lifting a hand and gently touching the long strands of my brown hair.

  “You do?” I whispered back, and he nodded slowly.

  “Happy birthday.” He held up a small bag. Inside that bag was a box of chocolates.

  “Oh, thank you. But I can’t eat chocolate.” Controlling my diet was another thing Malcolm did.

  He smirked then took my chin between his fingers, turning my face from side to side and inspecting it. “You don’t look like you eat much of anything. The first time I saw you in that box, you looked like a curvy ray of sunshine. Over the years, I’ve stood by and watched you wither away to a sliver of the woman you should have become. But I won’t standby anymore, Skyla. You’re an adult now, capable of making your own choices. I’d like one of those choices to be me.”

  “I—” I started, but I didn’t get the chance to get my words out before his mouth covered mine and my entire world turned upside down. My first kiss…

  “Eat the chocolates, Skyla,” he whispered when we parted. Then he left me in the stairwell, red-cheeked and breathless. That was strike two—he owned me.

  My eyes pop open as I sigh from the memory, returning to the present as Bryce steers us off the highway.

  “You OK?” he asks, forever concerned about mine and our unborn child’s wellbeing.

  “I’m with you, aren’t I?” I say, smiling as he takes the exit toward a place called ‘Oakwood Falls.’ I’ve never heard of it, but Bryce says it’s where his brother Danny lives with his new wife. Bryce hasn’t spoken to his brother for years, but he has every confidence Danny will know how to help us stop my stepfather.

  Bryce lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “And being together is all that matters, right?”

  “It’s the only thing that matters,” I say, adjusting myself in my seat as the memory of Malcolm’s fury fills my mind. He did everything he could to keep Bryce and me apart. Now we’re doing everything we can to make sure we stay together. Including getting married. Strike three…we’re legally bound, together in the eyes of the Lord.

  As I twist my new ring from side to side on my wedding finger, nervous contentment flitters about in my chest. When Malcolm finds out about this, he’s going to lose his shit. Not only has he lost his star pitcher, but he’s about to lose the team and his fortune too. It’s for this reason I’m also very afraid.

  What does a man do when the
millions he controls and the status he enjoys is set to go away once his stepdaughter gets married? Everything he can to stop it.

  Bryce

  “This is it,” I say, turning into the long driveway leading to Danny’s farmhouse. It’s late, but the lights are still on in the house. I’ve gotta admit, I’m nervous as fuck coming here. The last time Danny and I were in the same room, it wasn’t pretty. But this is bigger than him and me, it’s about an innocent girl who’s been taken advantage of and controlled for the last four years.

  It killed me watching what he did to her. The first time I saw Skyla, I was the new starting pitcher for the Nationals. They’d poached me from the Rangers for a pretty penny, so I had a lot to prove that day. I stepped up, dug my feet in, and just as I pulled my arm back and prepared to pitch, a flash of something caught my eye. I looked up, and there she was, my little ray of sunshine. She was in the owner’s box, pressed up against the glass like all she really wanted to do was be on the field, standing right next to me. I pitched the best game of my career that day, and ever since, I’ve had a protective flare for the girl. She was my lucky charm.

  She was too young for me then, and in the beginning, wanting her wasn’t what my interest was about. It was more that I needed to know she was watching or I couldn’t perform on game day. It was weird, but it worked. Then she lost her mom and my interest morphed into concern, then caring as I saw her young curves melt away and suck against sallow skin. She stopped making eye contact. She stopped smiling. She seemed lost and miserable, and all I could think was that I needed to get her away from that man.

  Malcolm Campbell. He liked to call himself a self-made man when really, all he did was marry up and up until he hit the jackpot in Skyla’s mother, Joanna Fortsworth. Wealthy women had a habit of requiring a prenup before signing on the dotted line, so he came to her with barely a penny to his name. Joanna gave him the lavish lifestyle he’d grown accustomed to, and when she was suddenly killed, rumors were quick to circulate that Malcolm had something to do with it, but there was never any evidence. As Skyla’s guardian, he had complete control of everything, including that sweet girl.

  If I’d had any proof that he was mistreating her, I’d have done everything I could to get her away from him sooner. But the bastard covered his tracks good, put clauses in our contracts that fraternizing with her was a contract-ending offense, and since I needed that contract to keep watch over her, I kept on signing just to stay close.

  By the time she turned eighteen, I realized I’d fallen in love with her. I knew it was time to get her away from him. She was legally an adult, so he had no real right to keep her locked up in her ivory tower and away from the world like he had been. Still, it took eighteen months to finally break free, and now I’m honestly concerned for what he might do. Skyla is my world. I’ll give up my life to save hers, and now that she’s my wife and is carrying my child, that protectiveness has only trebled. I can’t let any harm come to her.

  “It’s a nice place,” Skyla says, leaning forward to look at the great big farmhouse as I pull up beside the other cars. “You think they have company or something? That’s a lot of cars for two people.”

  “Maybe,” I say. “But do you really want to get back on the road now?”

  “I’m just worried they’ll tell someone we’re here and then we’ll be on the road again anyway.”

  “If they’re friends of Danny’s, they’re good people. We need to trust him.”

  She nods, then I get out of the car and rush around to her side to help her out. “If Danny’s so great, how come you haven’t been talking to him all these years?”

  “Because I was a jealous and competitive asshole.” I slide my arm around her waist, and we walk toward the house, laughter and voices signaling they’re around back.

  “Really? I’d never have thought that about you?”

  I stop walking and move my hands to cup her face, looking deep into her pretty brown eyes. “That’s because I’m a better man when I’m with you,” I say, bringing my mouth to hers and kissing her deeply, showing her that she makes me gentle and caring. My life has never had purpose like it does now. Taking care of Skyla, keeping her safe, it’s the first unselfish thing I’ve ever done.

  “I love you, Bryce Cardiff,” she whispers as our lips part.

  I run my thumb along her jaw. “I love you too, Skyla Cardiff. More than words can say.”

  She grins, then giggles. “I’m your wife.”

  “And I plan to keep you.”

  Threading my fingers through hers, I guide her to where I can hear my brother’s voice. “I’ll grab some supplies and come up next weekend, we can get the nursery finished in no time.”

  “I won’t say no to that,” another voice says. It’s deeper and gruffer than Danny’s, so I’m guessing this is who the extra car belongs to.

  “And what about us?” a woman asks. “Maybe Jolene can come here for the day, and we can do a little retail therapy and some spa treatments.”

  “Oh yeah,” another woman says. “I would love a girly day. My feet have been aching up a storm lately, and I doubt we’ll get the chance to do these things once our bambinos get here.” Babies? I frown, inching around the deck as their voices lower, but I catch the gruff guy talking to who I figure is his wife about rubbing her feet as often as she needs. The exchange makes me smile, it’s the picture of domestic bliss, and for the first time in my life, I’m finding myself feeling happy for my brother. None of this is about me anymore.

  When Danny comes into view, he’s leaning close to a pretty redhead, his fingers moving in lazy circles against her arm. There’re them and another couple sitting around a firepit. It’s an intimate moment, one I feel a little guilty about intruding on as I step into the light.

  “I was just thinking about…” Danny stops speaking as soon as he sees me. “Bryce?”

  I offer a small smile, and a wave as all eyes turn my way.

  “What are you? How did you?” Danny starts, spluttering a little as he gets up from the outdoor couch he was sharing with his wife. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Who is Bryce?” The other lady—a blonde—asks.

  “Danny’s brother,” the gruff guy tells her.

  “His brother?” Danny’s wife stands quickly, following close behind him.

  “Marnie,” Danny says, reaching for her so she’s tucked close to his side. She’s obviously pregnant, her hand resting on the top of her belly in the same instinctual way Skyla does. “This is my brother. Bryce.”

  I nod, smiling as I reach back, urging Skyla to come forward. I take a second look at the blonde; seems all of our women are pregnant at the same time.

  “Who’s this?” Danny asks, looking around me to my timid girl.

  “Come on, sugar.” I slide my hand in hers and draw her forward before sliding a protective arm around her waist.

  “I’m Skyla,” she says, worrying her lips together. I remember a time when her smiles were easy. I remember when she was open and friendly. With me, she feels free, but in a group, she still struggles to relax, and I fucking hate Malcolm for taking her joy away from her.

  “What’s going on?” Danny clocks Skyla’s swollen belly and takes a step back.

  “We need somewhere to crash,” I explain. “Just for a few days until we figure out what to do.”

  “Sure.” Danny doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course, you can stay. But I’m gonna need a bit more information than that. You know the position I’m in.”

  “I do. Which is why we know Skyla’s stepdad won’t find her here.”

  “So, you’re on the run? What about your team? Your career. You up and left mid-season? Why? Who’s her stepdad?”

  “The team owner,” I reply, pressing my lips together.

  “And the baby?” Danny asks.

  I look around the group of expectant faces. “Is mine.”

  Danny nods slowly. “You got the big boss’s daughter pregnant, and now you’re in hidin
g because?”

  “Stepdaughter,” I correct. “And I married her too.”

  Skyla holds up her hand, flashing the ring. “We stopped by Vegas on the way.”

  “OK.” Danny frowns. “But why are we hiding?”

  “Why don’t you take a seat,” I say, gesturing to the couches around the firepit. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

  The big guy offers me a beer, introducing himself as Gavin and his wife as Jolene. I thank him as I sit next to Skyla and she snuggles into my side, an iced tea in hand before I launch into our story. They listen intently, making appropriate noises as I detail Skyla’s and my relationship—leaving out private moments, of course—her stepfather’s controlling nature, and the clause in Joanna Fortsworth’s will that leads us to believe that Malcolm is dangerous. “We think he’s trying to kill her. And it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried.”

  Skyla

  “Goodness me,” Marnie says, piling food on a plate while I sit at her kitchen bench with Jolene next to me. “You must be exhausted traveling all this way without stopping.”

  “The baby isn’t especially happy with me,” I say, adjusting on my seat as she kicks hard.

  “How much longer do you have?” Jolene asks.

  “Two weeks.”

  “You’re close. We’re five months in.” She points between Marnie and herself.

  “You got pregnant at the same time?” I ask, picking up my fork before thanking Marnie for the food she places in front of me. It looks delicious—BBQ ribs, coleslaw, some chicken, and a slice of berry pie.

  “We got married at the same time too,” Marnie says with a laugh as Jolene nods.