Perfect Bastard (Mason Creek Book 16)

  PERFECT BASTARD

  TERRI E. LAINE

  First Edition

  Copyright 2022 Terri E. Laine

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The scanning, uploading and distribution of the book via the Internet or via any other means without permission is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchased only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support for the author’s rights is appreciated. For information address to SDTEL Books.

  Cover Designer: Sarah Paige-The Book Cover Boutique

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Terri E. Laine

  ONE

  Nate

  Coming back home to Mason Creek was temporary, or it was supposed to be. If I couldn’t change my image, my MLB contract worth over a hundred million would be canceled—just like me.

  “Nate! Are you listening to me?” my younger brother and agent, Mitch, practically yelled into the phone.

  “Yeah, Mitchell. I’m here.”

  “You only call me Mitchell when I’m right,” he said. “Who is she? Can we keep her quiet?”

  Last night, I’d done something I didn’t normally do. It had been open mic night at Pony Up, the bar in town that was owned by my best friend, Aiden’s wife, Emma.

  I’d gone up on stage and sang a song I’d dedicated to them when a stunning woman joined me on stage. A single song turned into a mini concert before the beauty disappeared as quickly as she’d appeared.

  I glanced heavenward, searching for patience. “You do remember you’re my brother and supposed to have my back?”

  “I remember. That’s why I’m trying to do damage control.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and glared at it before bringing it back. If I weren’t staying with my best friend, Aiden, I would have put him on speaker. “You should give me the benefit of the doubt. I thought you said you believed me about the others.”

  A few women that I’d slept had joined together and formed a I hate Nate Bowmen club to make a name for themselves. They sold their stories to tabloids about how I’d bagged them and made them leave in the morning. That bastard was a common phrase among them. What they didn’t say was they knew the score before they took their clothes off. The public was ready to believe the worst of me. Guilty until proven innocence was my fate.

  “It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. It’s about public opinion.”

  The political climate in the city I played in was focused on family values, which my critics said I didn’t embody.

  “You’ve become the poster boy for why paying millions to athletes is a bad idea,” he continued.

  “And the truth doesn’t matter?”

  “Bro, your dick pic is out there.” There was that.

  “I never consented to that.” I’d been asleep when the woman in question had taken the picture and tried to blackmail me. I’d refused to pay her, and she posted it. My brother wanted to sue her, but I didn’t want to do that either. It would have given her more of a platform.

  “And if you hadn’t brought some random chick to your place to fuck, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Like you don’t do that. Like millions of guys don’t do that.”

  “Me and those other guys aren’t paid a hundred million dollars to play baseball. Plus another hundred million-plus in endorsements.”

  “Yeah, whatever. The point is, I haven’t touched a woman in months. I’ve been squeaky clean and it’s still not enough.”

  “Then why do you sound guilty?” he asked.

  Probably because I couldn’t get a woman out of my head. The woman with golden strands like rays of sunlight streaked through her light brown hair.

  “I’m not guilty. I sang a song or two at the bar last night and this woman joined me for an impromptu jam session. It’s nothing.” Mitch was quiet. “Are you still there?”

  “That’s the thing. When have you ever willingly gone on stage and performed? You’ve never done that, like ever.”

  Our mother had had star power and had given up her career as a budding country singer when she’d found out she was pregnant with me. We’d sang at home, and she’d taught my brother and me how to play multiple instruments. The few who’d heard me claimed I had star power, too. But baseball had owned my heart since the very first day I’d caught a ball.

  “It was nothing. I sang a song for Aiden and Emma at Pony Up and it went from there. Trust me, I won’t be doing it again.” The gorgeous woman who had joined me had left without ever telling me her name.

  “Uh-huh,” he muttered. “That’s where it starts.”

  “She’s not interested, and neither am I.” That wasn’t completely true.

  “So you say.”

  “She left right after without a backward glance.”

  Mitch let out a boisterous laugh. “That’s new for you.”

  It was. From high school until now, I’d never been turned down by a woman. In fact, most of the time, the women hit on me. “Refreshing, actually.” Turning down women had become a necessary skill. I couldn’t piss anyone off unless I wanted more bad press, whether it was truth or lies.

  “I hope so. But if it becomes a problem, I need to know. The sooner the better. I’ve got a call. I’ll catch you later.”

  I put my phone down and stopped pacing the room. I couldn’t put off seeing my father any longer. Aiden had offered to go, but I had to do this alone. I hadn’t spoken to Dad in months because he refused to take my calls. Now I got in my car and made the trip to just outside Billings.

  The drive went better than I’d thought. The weather had remained dry. My Porsche navigated the roads as easy as a Ford F-250, which was my dad’s preferred vehicle. When I arrived at Mountain Lodge Senior Care and Retirement Facility, I was as impressed as I’d been when I toured the place before putting my father here.

  Dad had a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchenette, which I’d selected because of his diminishing mental state. A part of the package included a nurse who would check on him daily, and twenty-four-hour care was also available if needed.

  After being checked in, I was given the go-ahead to pass through the security doors to enter the senior living part of the compound. They had homes and apartments for all levels of need.

  I took an elevator up in Dad’s condo-style building and made my way to his door. After a knock, his grumbling voice could be heard muffled through the door, saying, “I’m coming.”

  The door opened, but I had to push it all the way open to step in. Dad was already retreating to the easy chair I’d brought from the ranch. I closed the door and walked down the short hallway that opened into the living room. He ignored me in favor of the TV.

  “Dad,” I said.

  He didn’t react, but he’d heard. The tightening of his jaw was sign enough.

  It was another minute before he spoke. “You can leave the same way you came.”

  Something broke in me when he didn’t even look my way. The twelve-year-old boy who’d looked up to his father like he was a superhero came out when I said, “Dad.” The word cracked as I spoke it. “I just want to know how you’re doing.”

  His head slowly swiveled my way. Eyes that used to be warm were empty. That I’m proud of you, son look he used to give me after each of my Little League baseball games was gone. “How do you think I’m doing, Nathaniel? I’m here against my will, put here by my very own son.”

  “Dad—”

  “Don’t bother to tell me all the reasons you put me here. I supposedly left the gate open on the pen and the horses got out. I fed the cattle lye, which is a lie. I didn’t pay the bills. And nothing I say will make you believe I didn’t do any of it.”

  There h
ad been witnesses to the first and the checks Dad said he’d mailed had never been cashed. The house had been in disrepair. With no livestock left and the business in ruins, I’d had no choice. He blamed me, but my brother had also agreed. He’d been the one to file for emergency guardianship over Dad. Only my brother had named me custodian. Thus, Dad blamed me for it all.

  “Your mother would be ashamed of you.” That jab hit where it was meant to. Mom had died a few years ago from what the local doc had called a widowmaker heart attack. “As far as I’m concerned, I only have one son now. Best you leave. And don’t come back unless you’re taking me home.”

  He shifted his gaze back to the TV. Everything else I tried to say fell on deaf ears. I hung my head and left, heavy with the burden that I’d broken my father more than Mom’s death had. But what choice did I have? The ranch house was uninhabitable until major repairs were done.

  I didn’t remember the drive back to Mason’s Creek or how I ended up at Pony Up. The pub was owned by Aiden’s wife, Emma. My best friend had won the lottery with her. He’d crushed on her for so long before he’d finally won her.

  Luckily, neither she nor Aiden were there. I filled the hole left by my parents with a couple of fingers of whiskey before I switched to beer. I was watching an NFL game playing on one of the many screens in the bar when Cinderella walked in.

  TWO

  Avery

  Waking up in my childhood bedroom felt like the failure it was. I had to remind myself that I was here because I wanted to be. After my parents’ divorce, my father had done little for himself besides get up and go to work. He didn’t know how to cook and wasn’t taking care of himself. Despite being a shit husband, he’d been a great dad. And living with him gave me an opportunity to pursue my dreams while saving money.

  My phone rang, and my best friend Haley’s picture popped up on the screen.

  “Hay-lee,” I sing-songed. “How are you doing this morning?”

  My bestie was a single mom and rarely got a night out, but her mom, out of nowhere, had offered to watch her daughter. “My head is killing me,” Haley said.

  After stupidly going on stage and singing duet after duet with the hottest guy I’d seen in quite some time, I’d spotted Haley giving some guy googly eyes. I’d made a beeline in her direction to put a stop to that before it was too late.

  “Tell me I didn’t do anything stupid,” she said.

  “Nope. I did have to stop you,” I admitted.

  She groaned. “I can’t find my wallet, though.”

  “Shit. Did you leave it at the bar?” I’d made sure I had her purse, but I hadn’t checked the contents.

  “Yeah. I called.”

  I checked the time. “They’re open.”

  “Yes. Could you do me a favor and get it? I don’t have my driver’s license and I have Zoe. I can’t risk getting caught driving without it.” Zoe was her six-year-old daughter.

  “Sure. I’ve got to check on Dad and then I’ll head over.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you in a bit.” I got up and after a spot check in the mirror, I went to the living room. “Dad?” I called after not seeing him. He was in his bedroom, passed out. I sighed and grabbed the empty bottles and took them to the kitchen.

  There I made toast, poured a glass of water, and got two aspirin. I went back to Dad’s room. “Dad,” I said, gently prodding him.

  He grumbled but opened his eyes. I held out the aspirin. “Take this and drink some water. I made toast.” Dad was good at taking direction and did as I asked. “I’m going out for a while. Are you going to be okay?” He nodded, and I left.

  I got in my Jeep and made the drive back over the mountain into Mason Creek territory. I didn’t make this drive often. There was a rivalry between Mountainside and Mason Creek that had started so many years ago. It was before my dad’s time. It was likely because Mason Creek was everything Mountainside wasn’t.

  There wasn’t the same sense of community here, likely because Mountainside, despite its name, was a poorer place with many failed and boarded-up businesses. Going to Mason Creek only reminded us of what we didn’t have.

  Last night, Haley hadn’t wanted to go to the Hooch, Mountainside’s watering hole, and be around the same assholes from high school who hadn’t amounted to much. Since her mom had only agreed to watch Zoe for a couple of hours, we couldn’t drive much further and have time for more than a few drinks.

  Things had changed in the Creek the last few years. A lot of those my age who had fled like I had were back, like I was. Though I didn’t live in the Creek, rumors made their way to our side of the mountain. It was part of the reason Haley wanted to go. Most of our high school class had never left town, with me being one of the few exceptions. Haley and I both had gotten college scholarships. She’d chosen to have her baby and give up that dream. I’d gone but had come back to take care of my father. It was different in the Creek. A lot more people left. Those coming back weren’t desperate. They had just come back, which only made us curious.

  The parking lot of Pony Up was mostly empty when I arrived, which I was grateful for. As I’d mentioned, gossip was rampant. Last thing I wanted was for someone to recognize me and start rumors. Likely that I was chasing the man I’d sung on stage with. Though he was hot, I was not interested.

  I pushed through the front door and walked straight ahead to the front counter. The attractive man behind it came over when he spotted me. “What can I get you?”

  “Actually, my friend Haley called about her missing wallet.”

  He asked me a few questions, like its color and what might be inside, along with her full name. After I answered them, he left to go to the office and get it.

  “So Cinderella returns,” a male voice to my left said. I turned and spotted him. He was still gorgeous with thick dark hair looking like he’d run his hand through it recently and stubble on his jawline. “Is he going to get your missing shoe?” The lopsided smirk and bloodshot eyes said a lot about his state of mind.

  “Little early, isn’t it?” I asked instead of answering, trying not to get caught up in his charm.

  He looked at his watch, which most men I knew didn’t wear these days. “It’s past noon,” he said and shrugged. “That’s about twelve hours from your little disappearing act.”

  “I didn’t disappear. The song was over, and I left.”

  “I bet you were hoping I’d chase you,” he said.

  “Guess again. Not everyone wants a piece of you.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t I wish,” he muttered, staring into his glass like it held the world’s answers.

  “Well, trust me when I say I’m not interested.” I smiled and thanked the gods the bartender came back and handed me Haley’s wallet.

  “Would it be reaching if I wanted to see you again?” the bartender asked.

  “Don’t bother. She’s one of those,” the damn sexy guy on my left said before I could tell the bartender no.

  Bastard. No, he hadn’t just said that. I glared at him. “One of those what?”

  The bartender stepped away, wanting no part of the firework display that was about to happen. The asshat just laughed and tipped his glass to his lips.

  “You know what? I don’t care.” I turned my attention to the bartender. “You.” I pointed at him. “Sure, I’d love to see you again.” I put emphasis on the word ‘love.’ The man’s eyes lit up, and he came over, looking more smug, not directed to me, but Mr. Sexy Pants to my left.

  We exchanged social media accounts, and he promised to slide into my DMs. And yes, he said ‘slide in,’ which had me blocking his handle as I left. This was why I hadn’t dated much since I left college.