Wanna Be Your Man – Player Loves Curves Read online Hope Ford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Wanna Be Your Man - Player Loves Curves

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Hope Ford

Language:
English
Book Information:

He’s the wrong man at the right time
She was waiting on a blind date.
When he doesn’t show up, I take his place.
She doesn’t know I’m a famous baseball player, and I like it that way.
When she finds out the truth, is she going to let me prove to her that I was the right man this whole time?
Books by Author:

Hope Ford



1

Naomi

I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I agreed, against my better judgment, to go on a blind date set up by my mother. I should know better, but it was the only way to get her off my back. She’s determined and thinks that I need a man. Little does she know that she has ruined my opinion of men, marriage, and love, for that matter. She’s on her fourth husband and I’m pretty sure she’s about to move on from him, too. She thinks just because I’m twenty-four and have a full-time job – that I love – that I’m never going to have a man. She doesn’t realize that I don’t want one. I’m happy on my own. No one to argue with over dinner plans, or what to do on the weekends, or how I should be spending my time. No, I like answering to no one. I like doing what I want when I want. I’ve seen my mom lose herself over and over in the men she dates and eventually marries. I don’t want any part of it. So the fact that I agreed to a blind date is crazy. The fact that I agreed to a blind date with a man that she picked out is absurd and I’m already regretting it.

She didn’t tell me much about him, which is fine. My only plan is to go on this one date with him to get her off my back and then never see him again. I pull another dress from my closet and hold it up to me, looking in the mirror. My long red hair is in a top knot on my head. My curves are more than generous and holding the too-short dress up to me tells me that it’s not appropriate. Maybe if I knew the guy, or even liked him, but I don’t plan on doing anything to encourage him. Hanging the dress back up, I pull out my khaki shorts, black and white striped T-shirt, and my strappy sandals. I don’t know what we’re doing on this date except that we’re meeting on the dock at the marina. I decide to put on my black one-piece bathing suit underneath my clothes. That way if we’re going out on a boat I’ll be ready. I look at myself in the mirror. I dab a bit of color on my lips and brush the mascara on my lashes. I go in search of my keys and purse before I look at my watch.

Crap! I’m going to be late. That’s all I need, my blind date calling and complaining about my tardiness to my mom.

I grab my bag with the sunscreen and towel, my purse, and slam out the door, running to my car. It’s only ten minutes to the marina, so hopefully I won’t be too late.

Neil

It’s rare to have a few days off, and this is really not how I wanted to be spending it. I look at my watch and then at my boat. I’m around people all day, every day. I would love to just set sail on my boat without worrying about entertaining anyone or fighting off advances from the number of women that seem to think since I’m a ball player, I’m easy. Maybe in my younger days, but not anymore. Whatever happened to women of substance? They have to be around, but maybe I’m just not running in their circles.

I have an hour before my friends are supposed to show up. They’re old friends that I only get to see once in a while, but we’ve sort of grown apart. Instead of hanging out like we used to, now they’re more interested in what has become my life. A place where booze, parties and women are abundant. Looking down the dock, I can already see a line of women wanting to hang out with a real MLB player. I’m so sick of meeting people who are fake and only interested in me because of my career. I’ve been dreading this day and the few days I get off, I should be able to relax and do what I want to do. I pull my phone out of my pocket before I talk myself out of it. I shoot off a quick text. Sorry, I got to bail tonight. Next time I’m in town we’ll get together. I hit the silence button and pocket my phone. I should feel guilty, but I don’t. My so-called friends just want to hang out to get laid anyway.

I’m about to turn toward my boat and unhook it from the dock when I notice a full-figured woman approaching me in a rush.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she says as she runs to me. She’s beautiful and the closer she gets the more I feel how beautiful she is. It’s like a punch in the gut when I get a look at her up close. She’s pale with freckles scattered across her nose. Her eyes are bluer than any sky I’ve ever seen and her red hair, which is bound on the top of her head, makes me want to release it and see it fall around her shoulders. She sucks the breath right out of me.

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