Excerpt of Diva in the Dugout by Arlene Hittle

After she confirmed his suspicions, Dave fought off another
wave of lightheadedness. He was a father—to an apparently
athletic kid with a skittish mama who looked ready to bolt.

Not this time. He stepped closer to her and gripped her upper arm. “Did you ever plan to tell me?”

She didn’t speak, but her head shook from side to side.

Dave rocked back on his heels. Why didn’t her answer surprise him? “How could you when you didn’t want to know my name?”

His fingers tightened as it occurred to him she could have done it on purpose—used him to get pregnant with no intention of letting him be a father. He smirked. The man he’d been five years ago—maybe even five hours ago—would have been happy with that arrangement. But his boss’ ultimatum changed everything.

Or maybe it just gave him the excuse he’d been looking for to tame his wild image. Partying had lost most of its appeal while he sat with his mom in the hospital, pondering his own mortality. Who, besides Matt and maybe his siblings, would mourn him when he died?

The blonde, Lin, tried to wriggle out of his grasp. “Let go! You’re hurting me.”

A stab of guilt had Dave loosening his grip. He wasn’t a bully. But he wasn’t a pushover, either. “You’re not leaving without giving me an explanation.”

Her lower lip thrust out, making her look every inch a schoolgirl. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

As young as she looked right this minute, he questioned whether she had been barely legal that night. She’d sure acted grown up. “I remember. You said you were on the pill.”

“I was!”

“Then how—”

She didn’t let him finish the question. “It fails sometimes, okay?”

“Obviously.” Dave willed her to look him in the eye. It’d give him a hell of a lot more confidence in the tired lines she was handing him.

He berated himself. How could he expect honesty from a woman he’d spent less than one night with, five years ago?

She finally raised her chin and met his eyes. “When Lu told me you played ball, I tried to find you.”

“Not very hard.”

Before she fixed her eyes on his cleats again, shame dulled her bright green gaze. “Not hard.”

“Would it have taxed that pretty blond head of yours too much to look at the team roster online, match my face to a name?”

She looked at him again, and this time, challenge sparked in her eyes. “You know us blondes—too stupid to figure out how to work that new-fangled Internet.”

Dave had little trouble quelling the urge to laugh. Blonde jokes notwithstanding, this situation was about as unfunny as it could get. He was father to a stranger—and it was this woman’s fault. “I’m in no mood for jokes.”

“No, I suppose not.” She heaved a sigh. “What’s done is done and can’t be undone. But we can go on from here.”