Blitzed by the Brit: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (27 page)

T
he journalist left
the interview disappointed. I took that as a positive sign. He’d been hoping to get some juicy gossip, but I’d just fed him a load of tame and boring answers. And a couple of lies.

He’d asked me how my day had been. I couldn’t exactly have said “Lovely, thank you. I just came on my advisor’s tits, so I’m a little tired. Can we make this quick?” I think Kristi would have approved.

The next morning, I’d been about to pay her a surprise visit, when I got a little surprise of my own.

“Hi, sis,” I said, as I opened the door to see May, Lance, and ‘The Kids.’ “And how are you two little scamps?” I squatted down and came face to face with the nightmare that was Tommy and Darren.

“Very well thank you, Uncle Barton,” they both replied in unison.

I looked up in shock at May.

“We’ve taught them some manners since you last saw them,” she explained. “Not many, mind you, but we’re getting there.”

“It would help if you didn’t swear in front of them all the time,” Lance added to his wife. “Hi, Barton. How are things?”

“Good. Well, come on in.”

“Actually, we’re not stopping,” May explained. “We’re just here to drop off the kids, while we go check into the hotel.”

“Drop off the kids?”

“Yeah. You said you’d look after them this afternoon so that Lance and I could have some alone time.”

“I did?”

“Yes. It was very kind of you.”

I really should start writing things down. May knew I was forgetful and she used that to her full advantage whenever she got the chance.

The kids ran in and headed straight to the PlayStation 4 where they probably loaded up a game that their parents banned them from playing at home. How old were they now? Ten and eight? Added together, there was eighteen years of maturity there. Ah, they’d be fine.

“I’m sure they’ll be no trouble,” I remarked. “You two go have fun.”

Lance and May couldn’t have gotten away faster if they’d been on rocket-powered Segways. That either meant they hadn’t had sex in ages, and wanted to let off some steam, or… or the kids had driven them mad on the way down. I quickly found out the answer to that question.

I turned back to look at the television and saw that the kids had managed to open an internet browser through the PlayStation. Worst of all, they’d gone straight to a website that I usually only visited when I was alone.

“How the hell did you get that up on the television?” I asked as I grabbed the controller off them and closed the screen as quickly as possible. Little shits. “Seriously, how did you do it? I’m… curious.”

Tommy rolled his eyes in the way he did whenever I showed him up in front of his friends. “Old people shouldn’t be allowed to use technology they don’t understand.”

“Old? I’m only twenty-two.”

“That’s ancient,” Darren responded. “Are you worried about dying?”

“I’m younger than your mom and dad. Are you worried about being orphans?”

That shut them up. I’d just won a battle of wits with two children. Highlight of my day so far. Now I just had to figure out what to do with them.

“Can we have your autograph?” Tommy asked.

The guilt hit me hard.
They were sweet kids after all.

“Sure,” I replied. “But why do you want my autograph?”

“You’re going to be really famous soon. Famous people are supposed to give autographs.”

“What about all those birthday cards I’ve sent you. Those have my signature on them.”

Tommy shrugged. “Just figured it would be cool.”

I smiled and rustled his hair with my fingers. “Alright, I’ll go get a pen.”

“We have one,” Tommy said quickly. “And some paper.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a thick wedge of low quality photographs of me. It was my team mugshot, but it had been printed on normal plain paper which the ink had made wrinkly.

“Here you go, uncle. Sign these please.”

“There must be…” I flicked through the pad of paper “...at least fifty copies here.”

“Fifty-four,” Tommy replied, looking at a piece of paper with lots of names written in his messy handwriting. “Make the first one out to Alex. Actually, the first two are both for an Alex.”

No, I was right the first time. Little shits.

“You wouldn’t be planning on giving these to your friends would you?” I asked.

“Hell no,” Tommy replied. Was ‘hell’ a curse word? I had a feeling May wouldn’t want them saying it, but I let it slide.

“Then why am I making them out to other people.”

“We’re going to sell them to our classmates,” Darren replied.

“It’s $5 for just the signature,” Tommy said, “and another $5 if they want it personalized.”

Seriously—little shits.

“No way,” I said, putting the pen down. “I’m not helping you with this little racket.”

“Oh come on, Uncle Barton,” Tommy pleaded. “We can cut you in on it. You get ten percent. That’s a $2 for every $10 autograph.”

May and Lance should have spent more time teaching them math, not manners. “Nope.”

“But you’re supposed to be the cool uncle.”

“You don’t have any other uncles, so I
am
the cool uncle.” I stuck my tongue out for added effect. Neither of them looked terribly impressed.

Now I had two sulking children to look after. This could be a long day. Unless… unless I had some adult company.

“We’re going to see a friend of mine,” I said. “She loves kids.” Maybe. Probably not these two though.

“Can’t we stay here and play on the PlayStation?” Darren asked.

“Yeah, mom always lets us stay at home by ourselves,” Tommy added.

“No she doesn’t,” I replied. “I’m not
that
stupid. You’re coming with me, and I need you to be on your best behavior.”

“We’ll try,” Tommy said in a long-drawn out way, that made it sound like he would do anything but try.

“Don’t try, do. Your mother said she taught you some manners.”

“She did, but we still forget sometimes. Dad tends to reward us for being well-behaved.”

“Your dad’s a giant softie.”

“He’s not,” Darren insisted. “Daddy was really hard on Mommy last week. I overheard them talking in the bedroom. Mommy had been naughty and she asked Daddy to punish her. I don’t know why she asked to be punished. When I’m naughty, I ask not to be punished. Mommy’s silly.”

“Yes,” I muttered. “Silly Mommy.”

“You should reward us for good behavior,” Tommy said. “That way we learn positive enforcement.” He trailed off as he spoke the last two words, but in the end he sounded confident enough that he’d got them right.

“Fine, I’ll sign a couple of those autographs,” I suggested.

“All of them,” Tommy countered.

“Five.”

“Twenty.”

“Ten. Final offer.”

Tommy paused as he did the mental arithmetic in his head. “Okay, fine. Ten it is.”

I took Tommy’s tiny hand in mine and shook on the deal, and then did the same with a confused looking Darren.

Kristi probably thought she’d had her work cut out looking after me. She had no idea.

W
ould
it be funny to pretend they were my kids?
Yes, probably, but the kids wouldn’t go along with it. Not without a substantial bribe anyway.

Me turning up announced with a couple of kids in tow might not be the best idea all around, come to think of it. We had ended things a little abruptly after that amazing blow job. I had no idea where we stood now, but I knew I wasn’t giving up on her. Not yet. Her mouth had been a great appetizer, but at some point I had to have the main course.

“What are you doing here?” Kristi asked when she saw me at the door.

“I’ve come bearing gifts.”

Kristi looked down at the two perfectly innocent looking children next to me.

“And what are the names of these gifts?”

“I’m Tommy.”

“And my name is Darren.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy and Darren. My name’s Kristi. Come in.”

“Are you Uncle Barton’s girlfriend?” Darren asked.

I heard Tasha’s laugh from the living room. “No,” I replied. “Kristi is a friend who helps me with work things.”

The kids ran into the lounge and grabbed the remote from Tasha, quickly changing the channel to one of their favorites.

“I hope you haven’t been teaching them any of your bad habits,” Kristi remarked.

“They have enough of their own. Is it okay me bringing them here? I can’t handle them by myself and I wanted to see you.”

Tasha snuck up on us and wolf-whistled when she heard me. “I would take the kids out and give you two some privacy, but Clyde and I are spending the day together.”

“We don’t need privacy,” I said. “I just came over to do some work on, uh—”

“It’s okay,” Kristi said. “She knows.”

“Yep, I know,” Tasha said proudly. “I’m so happy my sister is having some fun. Speaking of fun….” she added after the doorbell rang. I heard Clyde come in and go over all the plans they had for the day. Picnic in the park, walks by the sea, dinner at a nice restaurant. He’d really gone all out.

“I’m surprised you told her about us,” I said to Kristi.

“That’s not exactly how it went down. Let’s just say that my sister can be a perceptive bit—” Kristi stopped herself short when she saw Darren standing next to her. That kid always overheard things he shouldn’t. I swear half the time he did it on purpose just so that adults would pay him for his silence.

“Would you like a drink, Darren?” Kristi asked.

“Yes please. Do you have orange juice?”

“I’m sure I can find some.”

Kristi poured Darren a drink and he went running off back to the living room to watch television.

“They’re cute,” she remarked.

“They’re terrors.”

For the first time since Kristi and I had met, an awkward silence fell between us. The last time we’d been together, she’d had my dick in her mouth, and I’d exploded all over her chest. That wasn’t how she usually spent her evenings. Even for me it was… different than normal. Special.

I wanted more.

“Come on, hotshot. Let’s go watch crappy kids television shows.”

“Can’t wait,” I replied. I wasn’t being sarcastic.

“
U
ncle Barton loves Kristi
, Uncle Barton loves Kristi.”
Darren sang the entire way home.

“No he doesn’t,” I replied, in my tone deaf attempt at matching his tune.

“I can’t wait to tell Mom about this,” Tommy said.

“No,” I snapped. “Don’t go mentioning Kristi to your parents. Your mom is already getting ideas.”

“I don’t know. This sounds like a juicy secret. And I don’t like lying to my parents.”

“Since when?”

“Since I had something worth telling them. Something you’ll pay me to keep secret.”

“How much is this going to cost me?”

“Nothing. Just a few autographs….”

B
arton
and I spent four hours together the day before without him hitting on me. That was… different. Good different, but also frustrating. Like, let’s put headphones on the kids and go fuck in my bedroom kind of frustrating.

Of all the ways I’d expected my next meeting with Barton to go down, it hadn’t involved babysitting two children. At least they’d helped hide the awkwardness. The things I did with Barton… I’d never done anything like that before. I mean, I’d given a couple of guys head, but it had been more polite. More reserved. With Barton, I’d been like a porn star.

My mind had been wracked with worry. Would he look at me differently? He’d only started chasing me because I wasn’t like the other girls. Now I’d behaved like the other girls, would he still want me?

Did I still want him? Okay, some questions were easier to answer than others.

Likewise, I didn’t have to ask Tasha how her date with Clyde went yesterday.

“Morning, Clyde,” I said cheerfully as I walked out to breakfast.

“Hi Kristi.” He had a huge grin on his face, as he finished off a bowl of cereal. My sister certainly knew how to make a man happy.

“Tasha about?”

“She’s in the shower.”

“Nope, I’m done,” Tasha said, coming out of her bathroom. “You still insisting on studying today?”

“Yep, sorry, darling. Has to be done.”

I watched as Clyde and Tasha said a sweet goodbye on the doorstep. Tasha didn’t usually do sweet goodbyes. She usually hopped in the shower with the parting words “make sure you’re gone by the time I get out.”

“Date went well?” I asked.

“It was okay.”

“Okay? You’re grinning so wide the corners of your mouth are almost reaching your ears.”

Tasha immediately tried to stop smiling, but she couldn’t. “We hung out and then spent the night together. Nothing I haven’t done with guys before.”

“Why won’t you admit you like him?”

This time Tasha’s face did turn sour. I’d struck a nerve. “Just leave it, okay. We’re having fun, but it’s not going to last.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, he’s a couple of years younger than me.”

“So? He looks and acts older than you do. No offense.”

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out. Now drop it, please.”

Tasha didn’t give me much choice. She stormed off into her room and slammed the door behind her.

Good work, Kristi. You’ve managed to make your sister go from happy to sad in seconds. What a great sister you are.

I might be a bad sister, but I could still be good for Barton. Seeing him with his nephews yesterday had given me an idea.

I logged into work’s server from my laptop and prepared an email to Leona.

Hi Leona,

I’ve had an idea for Barton Fenner. Can we arrange for him to pop by a children’s charity (hospital, orphanage, etc)? Turns out he’s great with kids, and he’s been pestering me about doing it.

I convinced him that we wouldn’t want it to look like a photo op and therefore wouldn’t invite the press.

Let me know what you think.

Kristi

Every senior person at the firm knew that we were only pretending to help Barton improve his image, but Leona would still kill me if I put it in an email. I settled for mentioning the lack of photographers and hoped she would pick up on the hint.

The reply came back within minutes; Leona was probably tied to that outdated Blackberry device she insisted on carrying around.

Okay, if you think it’s necessary to keep the client happy. Careful though—it won’t just be the media with cameras. Make sure no pictures get out! We wouldn’t want it looking like a photo op.

Yeah, wouldn’t want Barton getting any credit for being a nice person.

My plan relied heavily on a picture leaking out. Even kids had cameras these days, and there were bound to be parents around who couldn’t resist sneaking a quick picture. Now Leona had warned me about it, so I couldn’t plead my ignorance. Oh well.

I’ll make some calls. Don’t worry, no pictures will get out.

There wasn’t anything we could do to stop people talking about the visit on social media, but it really was true that pictures told a story. More importantly, they told it quickly—an essential attribute given the attention spans of my generation.

Barton didn’t deserve what we were doing to him. I could still help him, but at some point I was going to have to choose. My job—and my career—or Barton, a man who I still thought would leave me within a day of us finally having sex.

Whichever I chose, the important thing was that Barton never find out. He’d never forgive me.