Read Online Books/Novels:
Winning Streak (The Beasts of Baseball #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Fake Girlfriend… Fake Fiancée… Real Altar
But in four years, I’ll be forced to take over my family’s billion-dollar company, and they expect me to start acting like it. That means I’ll have to bring home a woman. Any woman.
What I didn’t count on was being blindsided by freckles, sunshine, and an ass so fine it makes me harder than my baseball bat.
Before I know it, Eliana Anderson goes from fake girlfriend, to fake fiancée, to an altar that’s all too real… I don’t even know how it happened. And all just to make my family happy!
She came into my world like a wrecking ball, but now I want to make her my home run.
I just never expected the virtual bomb that was about to go off and shatter our entire world.
*** This is a full-length STANDALONE fake marriage romance novel with an HEA and NO CLIFFHANGER, which is also book four in my bestselling series, The Beasts of Baseball. ALL THREE other standalone novels of the series are also included in this copy as BONUSES for a limited time, so you can read the WHOLE SERIES when you one-click this book TODAY! ***
|Books in Series:|
|Books by Author:|
“Hey, Kane, you made the front page… again.”
A magazine was slammed into my chest before I even registered the words, halting me from a semi-jog. I didn’t want to look because I didn’t want to know what lies the gossip mill would be spitting out about me today. I glanced over to Joey Something-or-other, the newspaper stand dude outside my building.
“Is it bad?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Joey just smirked.
Yeah, it’s bad.
Against my better judgment, I looked down at the vile rag. There was a full-color picture of me on the front, a gorgeous woman on my lap. “Beasts’ First Baseman Kane Steele Hits Homerun with Porn Star.”
What the hell?
Chelsie was — is? — in porn?
I was so screwed.
Not only by the New York Beasts owner and my boss, Rhett Hamilton, but by my…
My phone vibrated, and I looked at the screen.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Speak of the Chanel-wearing devil.
I stared at the name, debating on whether to answer or not. If I didn’t, she’d just call back… again and again… and again. Or jump on her personal jet…
Fuck me standing.
Well, that was what got me into this mess. I’d fucked the icy blonde with the full lips and huge rack while standing, sitting, practically upside down. Chelsie was a total Tasmanian devil in bed. Now I knew why.
Tossing the magazine in the trash, I tapped the damn green button, praying to whatever god whose job it was to look over drunks and idiots to intercede.
“Hi, Nana,” I said in my most cheerful voice, “how is the most gorgeous and remarkable grandmother who ever lived?”
“Kane Bartholomew Steele!”
I stifled a groan. This was going to be worse than I thought. When Nana brought out the “B” word, I was toast.
“A porn star? Of all the beautiful and sophisticated ladies in New York City, you have to go… lay with a woman who has relations for a living?”
A flood of love ran through me, even as I listened to her scathing tone. Lay? Relations? Those words perfectly reflected my grandmother. A rich California socialite dripping diamonds and Chanel No. 5. God, I missed her. Even now when she was about to verbally spank me.
“Don’t you Nana me, young man. Your grandfather is probably rolling over in his grave right now.”
Grandpa is probably dreaming of rolling around with a porn star in his grave right now is more like it.
“You are bound and determined to smear your family’s good name,” she continued without taking a breath. “First, you put aside your duties to play baseball.” She practically spat the last word out of her mouth as if it tasted dirty. “When your father dies, who will be at the helm of the company your grandfather and great-grandfather slaved over all these years?”
Oh, shit. Here comes the guilt.
“Nana, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was in the business. She’s a very nice—”
I nearly laughed out loud.
“Woman, Nana. She seemed like a very nice woman.”
That was Nana’s go-to sound of disgust. She didn’t use it often because it wasn’t very ladylike, but she was using it now with what sounded like a megaphone blaring through my phone’s speakers.
“Do you plan on seeing this nice woman again, Kane Bartholomew?”
I cringed. I was still in a deep well of trouble.
“No, Nana. It was one…” night of pure unadulterated gymnastic-style sex with an apparent pro, “…meeting.”
She hmphs again. “That is excellent news and somewhat puts my mind at ease, but let me explain one thing to you, young man. I will not condone you continuing to flit your life away like this. You are better than this. You deserve better than this. So do the people who love you. Please, Kane, come home and take your rightful place in the family.”
I rolled my eyes. You’d think I was ascending a throne or something.
“I will, Nana. I promised you, Mom, and Dad that I’d give the majors five years then come back to California and get to work. This is my first year, so cut me some slack.”
She sighed dramatically. “Well, if you hadn’t languished for so long in the minors, this would have been the third year, and we’d have you back soon.”
Now, I was getting pissed. I’d worked my ass off in the minors, trying to prove my worth. So, I hadn’t been one of the lucky shits to go straight to the bigs right out of college, but I’d fought my way up in the ranks and earned the contract I received. And I didn’t use my family money either. Even now, most of the guys had no idea that my family was worth billions.
If I can keep my damn name out of the damn tabloids, that would help keep my wealth on the down low.
“Nana, let’s not go over this again. This is my dream. I’m living it. Loving it. When I turn thirty, I’ll come home and live yours.”