Leslie Kelly - Boys Of Summer - Sliding Home / Fever Pitch / The Sweet Spot

Don’t miss this super sexy anthology featuring three reader-favorite stories that celebrate the heroes of the all-American sport of baseball—and the women who throw them the ultimate curveball…

Sliding Home by New York Times bestselling author Leslie KellyPlain Janie Nolan’s been sitting on the bench so long, she doesn’t even realize she’s still in the game. That is, until a sexy pitcher tempts her to come up to the plate and take a swing…

The Sweet Spot by USA TODAY bestselling author Kimberly RayeBabe Bannister discovers that striking out with a sexy shortstop isn’t so bad—especially when it leads to hitting a home run with a delicious coach…

Fever Pitch by New York Times bestselling author Julie Elizabeth LetoCallie Andrews has been dying to have one last chance at bat…with her ex-husband!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover

Back Cover Text Don’t miss this super sexy anthology featuring three reader-favorite stories that celebrate the heroes of the all-American sport of baseball—and the women who throw them the ultimate curveball… Sliding Home by New York Times bestselling author Leslie Kelly Plain Janie Nolan’s been sitting on the bench so long, she doesn’t even realize she’s still in the game. That is, until a sexy pitcher tempts her to come up to the plate and take a swing… The Sweet Spot by USA TODAY bestselling author Kimberly Raye Babe Bannister discovers that striking out with a sexy shortstop isn’t so bad—especially when it leads to hitting a home run with a delicious coach… Fever Pitch by New York Times bestselling author Julie Elizabeth Leto Callie Andrews has been dying to have one last chance at bat…with her ex-husband!

Title Page Boys of Summer Sliding Home Leslie Kelly Fever Pitch Julie Elizabeth Leto The Sweet Spot Kimberly Raye www.millsandboon.co.uk

Sliding Home Sliding Home Leslie Kelly To Julie and Kim—it’s been great “playing” with you. And to the real “boys of summer”— thanks for keeping the summer months extra hot!

Dedication To Julie and Kim—it’s been great “playing” with you. And to the real “boys of summer”— thanks for keeping the summer months extra hot!

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Epilogue

Fever Pitch

Dedication

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The Sweet Spot

Dedication

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Epilogue

Copyright

Leslie Kelly

To Julie and Kim—it’s been great “playing” with you. And to the real “boys of summer”— thanks for keeping the summer months extra hot!

Early March, three weeks before Opening Day

WHAT JANIE NOLAN knew about baseball could be summed up in three words: zip, zero and zilch. She’d never liked sports of any kind, being far too focused on what her family called her “causes” to much care if some guy hit a ball with a stick farther than some other guy hit a ball with a stick.

So the fact that she’d ended up running a sports memorabilia shop called Round The Bases, which was primarily focused on Louisville’s Major League Baseball team, the Slammers, made as much sense as if she’d decided to become a stripper. And even with her very early-in-the-alphabet cup size, she’d probably still have had a better shot at a pole-dancing career than of preventing her brother’s store from going under while he served in the military.

Aside from Janie’s blood, sweat and tears, there was only one thing keeping the shop afloat, and that was the elderly man sitting across from her on the lawn of Bluegrass Retirement Village. Her personal walking baseball encyclopedia.

“You oughta be able to get six hundred for that,” Edgar Smith said, rubbing his jaw as he eyed the framed, autographed game picture in his hand. “’86 Mets, game seven over the Red Sox. With the certificate of authenticity, six minimum, maybe seven.”

Nodding, Janie jotted a note in her small, spiral notebook, which was already filled with information the man had provided. He’d been an absolute godsend. Without Mr. Smith’s input, she would probably have sold her brother’s 2004 autographed Red Sox ball for ten bucks to some kid on a Little League team.

“You’re my guardian angel,” she said, squeezing Mr. Smith’s age-spotted hand before putting the picture in her bag.

“Hands off, girlie, he’s mine. Wouldn’t want to have to arm wrestle m’own granddaughter for a man.”

Grinning, Janie eyed her grandmother, Anne Nolan, who sat beside Edgar on the blanket. Tart and spry at seventy-eight, Grandma Anne was her closest ally, and her only family other than her brother. Even if Janie didn’t love the depth of character she’d always found in the elderly, she would have spent every minute she could here just to enjoy her grandmother’s company.

“I’m not a man stealer,” Janie replied, lifting her brow.

Man “repeller” would be more accurate, given her romantic track record. Three words would sum that up, too: zip, zero and zilch. The last time she’d dated anyone seriously was before she’d taken over the store, so she was going on a three-year-long dry spell when it came to sexual experiences. Unless vibrators, rich chocolate ice cream from her friend Babe’s shop or the number of times she’d watched the Brad Pitt bare butt scene in Troy counted.

“Unlike Mary Moseby. She is a man stealer,” Grandma said. “I think she hid my uppers so I couldn’t go to the races last week.”

Janie didn’t ask why Mrs. Moseby was swiping another elderly woman’s dentures. And why her grandmother—who’d moved into the retirement community after a heart attack two years ago—was attending horse races. Sometimes she was better off not knowing.

“I should be going,” Janie murmured, glancing at her watch.

She wished she didn’t have to leave. The three of them were enjoying their Sunday afternoon picnic on this lovely early spring day, talking about family and the latest scandal among the amorous elderly. And baseball. Always baseball.

All around them, families visited with their loved ones, kids darting around catching butterflies or playing tag while the adults chatted. It was a ritual, and Janie loved it. If life hadn’t interfered, she would have been working at this place full-time rather than just volunteering on Sundays. But life, in the form of her ex-sister-in-law Beth, had interfered. When she’d walked out on Janie’s brother Tom, Beth had done more than break Tom’s heart. She’d thrown Janie’s life a curve, too. Literally.

Grandma Anne frowned. “You sure you have to go, honey?”

“Yes. Tomorrow’s the start of another long work week.”

“You’re a good sister, Janie, to do this for your brother. Giving up three years of your life…there’s not many who’d do it.” Grandma’s tone was hard. She hadn’t gotten over Tom’s boneheaded decision to enlist in the National Guard to nurse his broken heart any better than Janie had. “That boy didn’t have the sense God gave a mule when it came to his trashy wife.”

Janie remained silent, not daring to agree for fear Grandma would go off on a tangent about her grandson’s poor judgment. Though agree she did. Tom’s reaction to his wife’s abandonment had landed him in the Middle East. Not even the fact that he’d finally attained his dream of opening his own sports memorabilia shop could keep him from enlisting. He’d left not giving a damn about anything, and Janie and Grandma had lived in terror ever since.