Page 34 of The Bad Boy’s Homecoming (The Southern Hart Brothers #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Levi

All Messed Up

A week after leaving Sandy Point, Levi was still in Florida.

He’d not only signed with Tampa, but they also wanted him at spring training right away.

He couldn’t exactly tell them no, after he’d already missed weeks of training.

He needed to bond with his new team and learn the team dynamics.

The season opened in two weeks, and he was way behind.

As a shortstop he was expected to lead the team, establish cohesion.

And he was also the new guy. The second-string shortstop had thought he was going to have his first season and now there were hard feelings.

Even after making amends with Maddox, Levi’s reputation preceded him. Everyone thought he was a backstabbing dirtbag, decimating the team dynamics. And every story about him still included the Bad Boy nickname.

The hot Florida sun was beating down, even in the shade of the dugout where he sat between innings in a practice game they were playing. First string against second string. His phone rang.

“You need to create a new narrative,” G said in his ear.

“You say that like I know what you’re talking about.”

“You basically let Sara off the hook with that baby daddy story. And even though you got her to admit the baby isn’t yours, the curse of a negative public opinion is still hanging over you.

So we need to write a new storyline, and until you do, everyone will think you’re that same guy who sleeps with his teammates’ wives and gets them pregnant. ”

“Damn G, they weren’t married and the baby isn’t mine.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s the perception that you’re a homewrecker.”

“I’m listening. What do you want me to do?”

“You need to change the subject now, talk about your family, your childhood, why you love the game. I’ve crafted some social media for you to post and you’ll do more interviews with diverse media outlets where sports aren’t the focus.”

“Obviously you already have several in mind.”

“Correct, you have an interview scheduled tonight, with a national network. You’ll announce your excitement about playing in Tampa, admiration for your new team, and continue with your regret over what happened with Sara. And try to be seen with Maddox out.”

“The teams don’t really hang out. It’s spring training. Not a frat party.”

“Figure it out.”

Levi let out a deep breath. He knew she was right. His new teammates didn’t trust him or like him. No one was going to believe he wasn’t the bad boy until he showed them.

“Alright, what else?”

“You need to be in the press consistently, boring stories, house hunting, maybe doing some charity work, golfing, working out, no partying.”

“I’m too tired to party.”

“No women.”

“No problem.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I told you. That wasn’t me—it never was.”

“Alright, I’m sending you the interview information now.”

“There’s one more thing.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Can you check on someone for me?”

“I’m your publicist, image consultant, not your assistant.”

“But she would be someone who could impact my image, in a good way.”

“I’m listening.”

“Her name is Missy Shaw. She’s an artist, she’s…”

“The latest artist to use social media to launch her career, started out with landscapes but has moved into decidedly sexy impressionist work. Yes, I’m familiar.”

“You’re scary.”

“Thank you. She’s all over my feed. Has an exhibit in town this month.”

“When? Where?”

“You know her?”

“Yes.”

“Attending her show would be a good way to show up in Atlanta again, especially with former teammates.”

“I don’t want any of my drama to mess with her big night.”

“Fine, just make sure you don’t cause any at the event, I’ll handle the rest.”

“Thanks. Gotta go.” Levi hung up and grabbed his glove.

Missy had an exhibit, her dreams were coming true, and he wanted to be a part of them.

He wondered if she was thinking about him, or if she’d written him off.

He didn’t even have her number. He’d messaged her on her social media, told Gran to tell her to call him.

He’d even asked his brothers to give him her number.

But they said she’d call him if she wanted to.

*

This was either going to be the smartest thing he did, or be his ruin, Levi thought as he pulled into the crunchy shell driveway of his childhood home.

Missy’s beat-up car was parked outside the garage and everything looked the same.

But this time coming home had a completely different feeling.

Walking up to the kitchen door, he felt like he should knock, which was bizarre considering this was the house he grew up in.

One more step and he was inside but decided he should call out to make his presence known.

“Hello?”

“Well hello to you too,” Gran said as she stepped into view in the hall just beyond the kitchen.

She was wearing a dress, with her short ankle cowgirl boots, and put her hands on her hips.

“My favorite grandson returns, again,” she said. “With flowers?”

He held out a bouquet of tulips for his grandmother but held the second bouquet back. She eyed those like a spy puzzling out his motives.

“I see. She’s in the art studio. Will you be staying for dinner?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well I’ll be out, but maybe you can cook for Missy. She hardly takes a break to eat—she’s so focused on her art these days.”

He’d made his way across the kitchen like a thirsty man in search of water, with the promise of what he needed close by. He leaned down and kissed his grandmother’s cheek.

“Don’t you go starting something you don’t plan to finish,” Gran said, poking his chest. But a smile pulled at her lips.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good boy.” She patted his cheek.

There was a knock at the door. “That’ll be my date. Don’t wait up.”

“Date?”

But then she was off toward the front door and calling out to Missy.

“Missy honey, I’m leaving on my date. Levi is here and he’s going to make you dinner. So you’ll have to at least speak to him long enough to eat,” Gran called over her shoulder. Then she opened the front door and was gone.

Levi spun toward the studio to find Missy standing in a rumpled white men’s business shirt, with paint stains. Baggy jeans with rips in them, paint on her cheek, the afternoon sunlight pouring in, and looking like an ethereal modern goddess.

She stood holding her paint palette with her injured hand and a brush in the other.

“Hi,” he said, unable to think of anything more creative.

“Your grandmother didn’t mention you were going to return today,” she said.

“I asked her not to, because I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

She just nodded.

“Did you see my interviews?”

“No, I’ve been busy,” she said.

But her lips twitched and if he had to guess, he’d say she was lying.

“The baby wasn’t mine. I apologized to Maddox. I signed with Tampa.”

She just nodded and fiddled with the paint drying on her palette.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back. We still have that conversation to finish.”

Missy shook her head. “I don’t have any time for conversations.”

He took a step closer, now standing in the threshold of the art studio, still holding the fluffy bouquet of pink and white hydrangeas.

“I heard you have an exhibit in a few weeks.”

He could see the piece she was working on was moody, with pinks and tan, and a small section of burnt orange.

Like a fire was starting where two bodies melded together.

Looking at the gallery wall, he wasn’t surprised to find a dozen more paintings since he’d left.

Each one more interesting than the last.

“These are stunning,” he said.

“Thank you, I’m not sure any of them will work but we’ll see. The gallery curator will be the judge.”

“Work in what way?”

“The gallery needs at least twenty pieces for the exhibit, ideally more. And they all have to flow in some way.”

“I’m sure all of these will work fine.” He turned back toward her. “I missed you.” He held out the flowers and took two more steps toward her.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she said, setting down her brush and paints.

“I told you I would. I called to speak with you.”

“I didn’t want to hear your excuses.”

“When I signed with Tampa, they wanted me to start spring training right away. I needed to clean up my mess before I came back.”

“And now?”

“I’m back for the night, and have to leave again tomorrow. But I had to see you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Levi. We both knew you weren’t going to stay in Sandy Point.”

“I need to tell you, I can’t stop thinking about you and I still want to find out why.”

Then he took the final step to close the space between them and reached out to slide his hand behind her neck. She leaned into him and looked up with expectation and something else.

But he couldn’t wait a second longer. He touched her lips with his thumb before crushing his mouth over hers.

He wanted to brand her as his, remind her of how much he desired her.

She met him there, her mouth opening on a sigh as their kiss deepened.

Her hands were on his chest, moving up to circle his neck and pull him closer.

He dropped the flowers to the floor to put his other hand on her waist but then sank lower to grip her full bottom.

They were consumed with the need to be closer.

Before he knew it he was unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it over her shoulders to reveal her golden-brown skin.

He trailed more kisses down her neck, over her shoulder, and pushed the thin material of her bra down.

Licking and tasting the skin along her collarbone, his mouth sank lower to envelop the already pebbled rose-colored bud of her nipple into his mouth.

He bit and sucked until she moaned and then he gripped her thighs and picked her up.

Her legs straddled his waist as he carried her to the chair where she sat sometimes to study her work.

“You’re everything I want,” he said.

“Show me,” she prompted.

And that was all the encouragement he needed. Her blouse fell to the floor, then her bra. She sat straddling him and he watched as her chest rose and fell in hitching breaths. He cupped her breasts.

“You’re so beautiful. I wish I could paint you.”

She smiled, then handed him the paintbrush after dipping it in the red on her palette.

He used the brush to paint down the middle of her chest, then over her abs.

But his mouth was greedy to taste her and found her nipple again.

He bit down just enough to hear her gasp.

Before he could complain she stood and unbuttoned her jeans.

“I’ve been painting our bodies molded together from my imagination. I want to see how it will really make me feel,” she said, her voice deep with emotion.

She slid her jeans down her legs, standing in front of him in only small white panties that he wanted to rip away. Next she reached up to release her hair from the wrap she had it tied back in, letting it fall around her shoulders. Then she took the brush from him.

“My turn,” she said, pointing to him.

He removed his shirt in one fast movement and then stood to remove his jeans too.

She dipped her brush in the red again and painted an M over his chest where there was no tattoo.

Next she ran the cold brush down his chin and over his shoulder.

But she stopped at his wrist and set the brush down.

She pushed him to sit back down and gripped his throbbing length.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, and I’m on the pill.”

“I mean you’re sure about me, because I’m not here to just sleep with you and never hear from you again. I want all of you, a relationship.”

She stood over his lap on the chair, resting her hands on his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes.

“I. Am. Sure,” she said as desire coursed between them, and she slowly sank down on his aching cock, rocking back and forth to fully seat herself. He wrapped his arms around her to cradle her back as she arched into him.

Her breath was on his neck. “More,” she breathed. “I want more of you.”

She rocked again and the hum of pleasure that rolled out of her was like an aphrodisiac.

Using the rungs of the chair to balance she moved up and down, finding a pace she liked.

He was at her mercy and could only grip her body closer as she took control.

Then his mouth found hers and she let herself go, so fast and so hard, her body tightening trying to squeeze every drop of her bliss from him, then collapsing onto his chest.

And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this woman was his new home.

He belonged to her, and he was going to do everything it took until she agreed to be his.

Starting with giving her as much pleasure as possible until he filled her head with more ideas for her art.

He wanted to possess her mind and body. He wanted to love her and it didn’t scare him anymore.