Fastball (Wilde Players Dirty Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Indiana.
    “You wouldn’t believe the corn there, man. It’s the best tasting stuff you’ve ever had.”
    “Uh huh.”
    “Next time I go up in the summer, I’ll bring you back a dozen or two ears.”
    “Uh huh.”
    “Hey, so …”
    I’m never so happy to see the entrance to a hotel in my life, as I am to see The Grove Park Inn. “Let’s say we get checked in and then grab some dinner here. Then maybe head out around nine. You good with that?” I ask.
    “Sure. Are there any cool tours we can take while we’re here?” he asks.
    “Tours. Tonight?”
    “Yeah. Like, is there any kind of specialties here or anything? Like country basket weaving or pipe making?”
    “What the fuck! We’re not at Dollywood. But the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company has tours. That’s pretty cool.”
    “Nah, I’m more interested in the local flavor.”
    “So, you’d rather watch someone weave baskets instead of touring a brewery? What kind of a man are you?”
    David is a big guy. He shrugs his hugely defined shoulders, and they stretch the fabric of the shirt he wears. “I kinda like the homey stuff. I’m like that. Thought maybe there was somewhere they made corn pipes around here.”
    Corn pipes? Who the hell is this guy?
    “Dude, I grew up in California, surfing and playing baseball, and only came to visit my cousins here, so I don’t know too much about corn pipes.” Now I’m wondering what good ol’ David is going to think when I take him into Whips and Cuffs. Maybe I should’ve looked for a club called Corn Liquor and Porch Swings instead.
    We meet for drinks and dinner, and one thing about David is he loves his brown liquor. Jack on the rocks. That probably should’ve told me a little about him. After we finish up, David’s downed four or maybe five drinks and is feeling rather good. Time to Uber it over to the club because it’s past nine. I don’t want to be the first one there, but I don’t want to go if it gets too crowded to get in either.
    Our ride pulls into the parking lot and there’s no sign, so I ask to make sure we’re in the right place.
    “So, I can guess you’ve never been here?” he asks.
    “Never,” I answer.
    A hearty laugh rips out of him. “Have fun, gents,” he says as we get out of the car. We can hear him laughing even as the car is a block away.
    “What was that all about?” David asks.
    “I don’t know.”
    “What’s the name of this place anyway?” he asks.
    “Whips and Cuffs,” I mumble as I take giant strides toward the entrance.
    “I didn’t get that,” I hear him yell from over my shoulder, but I ignore him as I walk through the door.
    The entrance is a dimly lit foyer with three huge bouncers guarding the second door.
    “Welcome. Returning or new?” one of the giants asks. I’m a fairly tall guy at six feet four inches, and I have to tilt my head up to see his eyes. Good thing he doesn’t recognize me. For once I’m glad someone isn’t into baseball.
    “New.”
    By this time, David is right behind me.
    “He with you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Okay. Here are the rules. You must sign an NDA. Anyone you see inside, you must not speak of outside of this place. If they do not acknowledge you, you cannot speak to them here. Clear so far?”
    “Yes.”
    The guy is silent. I turn to see what’s happening with David and he’s staring at the guy. I nudge him with my elbow. “Oh, yeah. Clear,” he says.
    “Good. Next, absolutely no pictures. Are you carrying?”
    “Guns?” I ask.
    He huffs out a breath. “Phones or cameras of any kind,” he answers with great disdain. Then he points with his thumb over his shoulder and says, “The guy behind me is gonna pat you down and check for weapons.”
    “Oh, damn. I have my phone. David?”
    “Yeah, I have a phone.”
    “We’ll have to check those for you, and you can get them when you leave. If that’s a problem, then you can’t get in.”
    “Not a problem for me. David?”
    “No problem.”
    “Finally,