Win the game. Lose your heart.
Everyone knows who I am and that I could have any female fan I want. That's supposed to be the "perk" of playing left field for the Boston Renegades. But I don't want just any woman; I want her.
She should be just another face in the crowd, but I can't stop thinking about the one night we spent together-and her look of regret the morning after.
Because Saylor Blackwell is the kind of woman who haunts a man. Smart, sexy as hell, and one of the best managers in the business. She's every ballplayer's dream woman. And I'd do anything to make things right with her.
I'm done sitting on the bench when it comes to Saylor Blackwell. Time to swing for the fences.
It is not secret that I have had a love/hate relationship with this series and here is the thing after reading Grand Slam I have no idea why I have not liked the others because I really liked Grand Slam. I think this book whore needs to revisit the previous books to see if my opinion about them will change with a reread. I really think it will, looks like I am scheduling more into my schedule but this time it is rereads.
Okay anyways on to my review of Grand Slam, sorry about that I got off track there for a moment. I love sport themed books, this is no secret and after hockey and football, baseball is my next favorite to read. It could also be because of those pants they wear in real life and I may or may not have drooled a time or a thousand while at games. Also my grandfather loved baseball so the real boys of summer hold a special place in my heart always. Grand Slam was exactly that for me, a grand slam. I can’t say there was anything I had an issue with, and that is rare, even if I rate a book high there is usually a minor issue or two that gets to me but I am searching and searching in my memories and nothing stands out as bad in this book.
Travis and Saylor will have your heart aching, your angst meter on high alert, emotional and then they will have you smiling, falling in love with them, and believing that happily ever after does exist when you find the right person to heal your soul. Add in an adorable little girl and you have a story that you can’t help but fall in love with.
Grand Slam is a book I can easily recommend and made me want to give this series another chance. I think most will love this one more than the previous books.
I had hoped the booze would muddy my memory of last night, but it hasn’t. Every word she said, every expression she had, every punch to my chest to get me out of her apartment is crystal clear. I fucked up, and I don’t even know how. All I know is that the sobs I heard on the other side of Saylor’s door last night were enough to sober my stupid ass up.
For hours, I sat against her door, until a resident suggested I leave or they were going to call the police. If I hadn’t been arrested ear- lier, I probably would have encouraged them to dial Boston’s Finest. Another man might understand my plight. The woman that I want to be with kicked me out of her house, and while I probably deserved it, I didn’t want to leave until she stopped crying. I didn’t want to be the one to walk away in her time of need.
But as egos go—and believe me, mine is huge—I couldn’t let it get in the way any longer, so I walked my drunk ass back home with my tail between my legs, only to stay up all night while the booze wore off, knowing that I had to live with whatever I’d done to Saylor.
She’s the last person in the world who I want to hurt, and she’s the one person who can save me. Not only from a life behind bars, but from myself. When I’m with her, I’m a different person. The cocky son of a bitch whom everyone is used to doesn’t exist when she’s near me, and frankly, that is the man I like, or at least I used to. It’s easier being a fucking douche. It’s second nature to me and comes with the territory of being named one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.
Except when I’m with Saylor, I can be the man who hides in the shadow of that Travis Kidd. I can be the kind of man who doesn’t have to have a one-liner available or wink in order to get a phone number. When I’m with her, life outside of baseball starts to have a meaning, a fucking purpose.