Epilogue
— Scout —
I’d been shitting myself all night. Nervous anxiety played havoc on my stomach, bringing old urges to the surface where they whispered their vile taunts. After over a year in the planning and having met all the staff and players, my official starting day with the San Antonio Sluggers had arrived.
I took an extra minute in my car, inhaling through my nose and exhaling slowly through my mouth, fighting to regain calm in the parking lot of the original San Antonio Lone Stars’ ballpark. By the time I stepped onto the asphalt of the rebranded Sluggers’ parking lot, I’d failed miserably at getting a hold of the fisted knots in my stomach.
The automated doors of the building coasted open for me. It was early, but I heard laughter and yahooing from the players— my players—from within the clubhouse. It made me smile, though didn’t dissipate the nerves. That smile on my face? Yeah, that evaporated the millisecond I strolled down the carpeted corridor to my office to find the door wide open with a helluva fucking mess inside.
It was like a goddamn frat house, complete with the smell of stale beer. The casual seating area and coffee table at the far end of the large space was littered with discarded alcohol cans. Takeout wrappers were left on the floor throughout. And don’t even get me started on the goddamn burger lettuce that had been trampled into the carpet fibers.
On a hissed curse, I shoved both hands through my hair. It was too fucking early in the morning to deal with this shit, and this wasn’t the way I wanted to start my coaching career with a newly established club.
All eyes had been on me the since the official announcement was made six months ago that the Sluggers would join the MLB league next season.
That wouldn’t be happening if I couldn’t get a handle on my goddamn team.
I turned in place from the middle of the room and glared at my desk. A blow-up woman sat crudely in my chair with various feet paraphernalia lined up before her, as if she was choosing which one to deep throat next.
On the wall at the far end of my desk, right next to the window that looked out over the ballpark, was a silhouette drawn on the wall with my number on its chest. The scrawled writing above it had me seeing red. Pin the cock on Coach .
Heat rose up my neck: a colored fury that didn’t happen often. These motherfuckers had met the nice Scout already, but today… today they were getting the asshole who they’d riled past the point of a fucking joke.
“Assholes!” I yelled, dumping my bag on the floor beside the desk, then yeeting the blow-up woman off my chair with a hard front kick.
Storming from my office, I kicked through the door into the clubhouse to where the party continued.
“Who the fuck gave you permission to use my office for a bachelor party last night?”
My demand was met with… complete and utter disregard. Like, shouted conversations and laughter continued over the pumping music. The dance party on the clubhouse tables didn’t cease, and my god…
“Is that a fucking racoon ?” I bellowed. In someone’s open locker, eating a sandwich!
I was normally a chill kind of guy, but I saw red. “You guys have two seconds to cut the bullshit or you’re running shuttles for the entire fucking day!” I boomed at the top of my lungs.
And still they didn’t fucking listen. It was as if I was invisible and mute.
Fury like nothing I’d never experienced filled me. With one last disgusted glance around “my team”, I stalked through the door, slamming it into the wall on my way through.
A scuffed footstep caught my ear, but before I had a chance to turn, a sack was forced over my head and at least three pairs of hands took me to the ground.
“What the fuck?” I growled, bucking and fighting within their hold.
Thank fuck my elbow was all but healed—I would have been even more pissed off if not.
As my ankles were bound and I was forced into a chair, I ground my teeth back and forth. A single chuckle was all it took for understanding to dawn on me. So this was how it was going to be, eh?
After my wrists were bound behind me and to the chair, it was hoisted into the air with a grunt, then the rocky movements confirmed I was being carried somewhere.
“Your ass is heavy, Coach,” an amused, slightly pained voice came from my left.
“You wait till it reins down vengeance,” I drawled back from within the fibrous brown sack.
A breeze hit my exposed hands, and the world appeared lighter through the weave. They’d carried me outside—no doubt onto the field.
Sure enough, countless steps later, the chair was roughly set down. Snickers and whispered conversation flowed around me. I sat stock still, trying to figure out what the bastards had planned next.
A hard slap to my shoulder made me jolt. “Welcome, Coach.”
Another hit my other shoulder as a new voice passed. “Welcome aboard, Coach.”
The longer this continued, the more nervous I grew. It was a big team, and I’d bet my ass they were all here.
Fingers finally loosened the tie of the sack of my head. The material whipped away without warning, blinding me. I blinked and squinted against the sudden glare, then cut my focus around the bullpen to all the other staff standing around me, to the entire team leering and taunting me like I was a piece of fresh ass on the strip.
A beat of silence pulsed before I opened my mouth, but the guys beat me to speaking. A loud, raucous cheer went up as bottles of champagne were popped and sprayed in my direction.
I couldn’t help but laugh. These motherfuckers had pranked me good. But I grew up with five brothers… payback was going to be a bitch.
As the spouts of champagne died and the bottles got passed around, the club manager pushed through the melee.
“You were in on this, weren’t you, Gav?”
He grinned from ear to ear. “Of course. We had to give a legend a legendary welcome.”
I shook my head, laughing. “I’m still pissed about the state of my office.”
“I put the guys up to it. They weren’t partying all night, and this is the first drop of alcohol they’ve had today.”
“Assholes,” I said through more laughter.
Our batter, Elijah Goff, ran over with a bottle of champagne in each hand. “Drink!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, tipping the bottles over mine and Gavin’s heads.
Today I had team building shit planned, so what a way to start it. Hands still tied to the chair, I had no choice but to tilt my head back and drink champagne like it was my first hazing in the league all over again.
~
— Remmy —
I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe between the adjoining house and garage as Scout drove in and parked. His wide foolish grin lit a little fire in my chest and warmed my heart through.
“How was it?” I demanded as soon as he popped the car door open.
“Babe, it was fucking insane!”
He hurried around the car and rushed into my open arms, then lifted me off my feet. Scout never failed to express his desire for me or remind me of what it was like to love unconditionally, and fuck it made me fall for him so hard every single day.
With his nose buried into the juncture of my neck, he inhaled deeply. “Goddamn you smell good.”
I laughed when he growled and kissed a path over my collar bone. “Must have been insane. And your hair smells weird… What have you been up to?”
“It’s Champagne,” he mumbled. “They hazed me real good.”
“Oh my god,” I cried happily. “Hard day at the office, then?”
He hummed and walked me backward into the house. “So hard.”
My booty blindly hit the edge of the kitchen island, and I yipped as Scout lifted me with no effort onto the counter. He nudged between my legs, cradled my face in his hands, then kissed me until I couldn’t breathe.
“Marry me, Rems,” he murmured between kisses.
I threw my head back and laughed, so he continued to kiss a path up and down my neck.
“We’ve been over this many times, Ace: I’ve already said yes.” I wiggled my ring finger, making a show of the flashy diamonds adorning it.
I always thought I wouldn’t be one to get married, but over the last year and a half, Scout had rewritten the rule book.
He growled into the crook of my neck, “That’s because I want to hear you say it again.”
“We’ll, it’s still a yes,” I drawled.
“Music to my ears. Especially after today.”
“No regrets?”
His hands rhythmically slid up and down my thighs. “None.”
During the last year in particular, we’d become inseparable—ever since we made a vow on the dock in Gatlin Falls to make the most of Scout’s new position on the Sluggers’ coaching team. That included me moving to Texas with him, and him backing me as I established a flourishing online branding consultancy business. I’d discovered that my name alone was a powerful tool, and I used it to my advantage to help catapult my clients’ companies into profitable and reputable circles. And the majority of clients? Boss-ass women who were punching through glass ceilings left, right, and center.
Despite stiff competition from Steph and Bren, and even Bass, Scout was my biggest cheerleader. He was my ride or die. My everything. And we’d made that commitment to each other officially two months ago—the same night we bought this house—when Scout had proposed, accompanied with a warning that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
So of course I said no just to prove I wouldn’t conform, even though my heart had already accepted. He’d chased me through our empty new home and tackled me onto the carpeted living room floor, where he’d tickled and kissed me until I’d screamed yes on repeat at the top of my lungs between breathless gasps of laughter.
Those giddy butterflies still circled my stomach; it was a feeling I never got used to but never wanted to leave.
With my arms locked around Scout’s neck, I snickered happily, then sniffed his hair. God it smelt awful. “Ugh. You need a shower, but I want to hear about the hazing.”
His chuckle eased into a long groan against my skin. “I’ll tell you all about it soon, babe. But first, I’m starting to think I need help washing. That, and you’re definitely wearing too many clothes.”
He started peeling up my tank, but I clamped down on his wrists and resisted. On the verge of complaint, Scout locked eyes with me, then stilled.
I knew that look. I loved that look. Affection shone so bright in his brown eyes it literally made it hard to breathe. All the trials and tribulations we’d endured early in our relationship had been worth it a thousand times over.
God I loved him so hard it hurt.
And while getting married had never been something I saw myself doing, with Scout it seemed right. Seemed, meant to be.
“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered.
I smiled back and shimmied to the edge of the counter top. “Take me upstairs, Ace. You can tell me about today while I wash your hair.”
“Hold tight,” he said in a hurry, scooping me into his arms.
With my ankles anchored on his lower back, and my arms hugging his broad shoulders, Scout carried me upstairs as fast as he dared, ready for every single millisecond of debauchery I had planned for him…
I giggled as we passed the three spare rooms and the upstairs bathroom before entering our large master bedroom. Arousal bloomed between my legs as he growled impatiently and hurried across the expansive space with the large inset fire and wall-mounted TV. Scout was on such a mission to strip me from my clothes that he didn’t so much as spare a glance at the sex machine sitting conspicuously in the corner. The one we used solely for pleasure now… The one that got retired from content creation the same day Scout got down on one knee on the dock in Gatlin Falls and demanded I be his forever.
~ The End ~
Thank you for reading Scout and Remmy’s story!