Remember Me: The Baxter Boys, #3

By Mindy McKinley

A night she'll never forget. A night he wishes he could remember.

 

High School librarian, Amy Foster is a heartbreaker. After having her heart crushed in college, she has stuck to a strict 'love them and leave them' policy that works surprisingly well until her most disastrous one-night-stand waltzes into her school during a college fair. Hot and arrogant, with a body of a god, Jake Baxter seems determined to break down her walls. Too bad he doesn't remember they've already met.

 

Jake Baxter loves two things, baseball and librarians. He's got the first wrapped up as a recruiter for the baseball team at the University of Illinois, but he's yet to find the librarian of his dreams. When he runs smack into one at an East High college fair, Amy Foster is everything he ever wanted. Only trouble is, she swears they've met before and he finds himself desperately trying to make up for a night he doesn't remember at all.

 

Can he convince her that he's worth taking a second chance?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
• Release date: Jul 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781953335463

Book preview

Chapter 1

AMY

Oh God, Jared, no, Amy cried, chasing after the sophomore student who knocked an entire display over as he moved a new table into place. Jared cringed and did his best to catch the display board, but it crashed to the floor, garnering an oooh from everyone in the gym who saw it.

Jared froze and looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes. Amy had to run a hand down her face to keep calm. Why she agreed to help put on this stupid event every year, she’d never know. It never got easier. 

"Miss Foster, I’m so sorry." Jared had his hands out, ready to apologize. If she’d let him, he’d do it for twenty minutes. She’d seen him do it before. 

Jared, it’s fine. Amy held her hand out to stop him. Just pick it up and see if it needs repairs, okay?

He nodded, but she could see by his expression that he felt awful. The poor kid was just trying to do volunteer work to pad his scholarship applications. 

But do me a favor and be a little more careful, okay? she added, immediately regretting the clipped tone she’d used.

Okay, Miss. Jared dropped his head, then turned to fix the fallen display board.

With a sigh, Amy scanned the rest of the gym and was relieved to see that, for the most part, it was coming together. Every year around this time, Chicago East High School threw a college fair, and as the librarian, she nearly always got tapped to help. She didn’t mind it, but she’d be lying if she said it gave her any great joy, especially when her volunteers created more problems than they solved.

But the tables were lined up neatly, and all the displays, except the one Jared was madly applying tape to, were in place. The college reps would be by soon. Students would start filtering in during their PE classes. It would be a madhouse in about twenty minutes, which gave her just enough time to refill her coffee and use the restroom. 

Amy gladly escaped the gym for the next few minutes and returned with a full mug, thinking that maybe this time everything would go smoothly. 

A few of the college reps had arrived and were busy tossing fancy tablecloths over the plain tables, setting out swag, and attaching pictures to the display boards East High had provided. Scanning the room, she groaned when she saw Jared profusely apologizing to the recruiter from University of Illinois for the lopsided board. Clearing her throat, she decided she should probably intervene before Jared pledged his life to the man. 

It’s okay, Jared, Amy told him gently as she approached. I’ve got this.

Jared let out a sigh of relief, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and took off, calling, Thank you, Miss, behind him.

When Amy turned back to the UI representative, she nearly dropped her coffee cup and just barely kept oh shit from coming out of her mouth. Memories of a very drunk, very disappointing night came flooding back to her as she looked at the handsome face in front of her.

She was rarely struck dumb, but right now, looking into those warm hazel eyes, the curve of his lips, the deeply compelling dimples of his cheeks, she couldn’t think of a single word. Not one. 

The last time she’d seen this man, he was dressed casually in jeans and a baseball hat, a contrast to the crisp button-up and slacks he had on now. Her knees buckled a little when she remembered what his chest looked like beneath those clothes. Godlike is what she had told her best friend, Lula. 

He disarmed her further with a smile and stuck his hand out. Jake Baxter. Jared was just explaining what happened to the board. I tried to tell him that it’s no big deal, but he seemed super upset about it.

Amy blinked. He didn’t remember her. In the span of a second she felt both relieved and humiliated all at once. Feeling dizzy, as if she had just been spinning in circles, she simply smiled and weakly shook his hand. Amy Foster. And thank you for being understanding. High school help isn’t always the most reliable.

Jake laughed and let go of her hand. I can imagine. I work with college kids, and they aren’t much better.

Amy let out a small laugh and could feel herself blush as his eyes flitted over her. His grin turned up about a thousand degrees when he was finished with his discreet but heated perusal. 

"So, what do you do here, Mrs. Foster?"

Miss, she corrected him, knowing full well what that emphasis meant. The slight upturn of the corner of his mouth on her correction also did not get past her. I’m the librarian.

One of his eyebrows inched up almost all the way to his hairline, and the heat coming off of him tripled. 

Amy struggled to breathe as she remembered his large, solid body sliding against hers, and good God, the man could kiss. She could feel the memory of his tongue all the way to parts of her that had no business being awake during the school day. 

Librarian? Jake licked those lips that had once slid expertly down her neck. Is that so?

Swallowing, Amy nodded and then pointed toward his table to deflect the conversation. She cleared her throat. So, baseball, are you the coach? He had set the table with recruitment materials, little pens shaped like bats and several gorgeous pictures were hung confidently on the cockeyed display board. He clearly had more faith in Jared’s repairs than she would recommend.

Jake grinned. Nah, I wish. He said it flippantly, but she could feel the underlying truth. I’m the recruiter. East High is in my region, and word is you have a couple of real big-league hopefuls here this year.

That made sense. Trace Watkins and Javier Perez had been burning up the diamond since they were freshmen. Recruiters had been sniffing around for a while. If UI wanted them, they were going to be competing against at least a dozen other schools. "They are great players and great kids, which is hard to come by at that skill level." 

He grinned; it was boyish yet somehow very adult. Watch it, she warned herself—last time she’d let him charm her it had ended less than ideal. And to add insult to injury, he didn’t even remember her. Not an inkling of recognition. So, screw him and his dimples, even if she did want to lick them like candy. 

Reading her interest like a news article, Jake stepped a little closer and dropped his voice to a level she swore she felt between her legs. Maybe you could fill me in a little more later, maybe over drinks?

Oh God. Yes, she said in her head right before the memory of his snore lit her brain up like a five-alarm fire. Yep, that snore, that one little snore had given her more embarrassment, more shame than a lifetime of hot sexual adventures. A nighttime of snores? Sure, she could handle that, but right as she was about to give him the blow job of his dreams? Nope, with a pop on the p. That was not something she would easily get over. I don’t think so. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Jake’s expression faltered just a fraction. She could tell he was surprised. Dinner, then?

No, she answered sweetly at his attempt to up the ante. But thank you for asking. 

He put up his hands and gave her a grin that told her he wasn’t going to give up that easily. Can’t blame a guy for asking. 

With a curt smile, Amy simply said, Have a good day, Mr. Baxter, turned on her heel, and walked away, her loins complaining the entire time.

JAKE

Jake swallowed a growl as he watched Miss Foster walk away with her long dark curls bouncing down her back. The way her demure navy-blue wrap dress clung to her rounded hips and her sensible heels accentuated her lovely calves, made his cock twitch in a way it had no business doing at a high school. 

Tearing his eyes away from her as she sat with a harrumph at the information table, he took several deep breaths and turned around. Steady, Baxter, he breathed. But she was a librarian, his brain fired back. A fucking librarian. He’d had a thing for librarians longer than he could remember, and no matter what fantasy he’d cooked up over the years, they’d never been as hot as the woman that just told him no. 

Jake couldn’t decide what he liked better: her delicious curves, her sapphire eyes, or those goddamn curls that were just screaming to be pulled. Just one thought of bending her over had him taking a quick walk around the gym while reciting last year’s team stats in his head before he could man his display with some semblance of control.

As the students started filing through the gym, Jake got caught up in the business of recruiting and let the vision sitting across the gym behind a laptop slip to the back of his mind.

The students were great, and he had an easy time building rapport—it was why he was still stuck in this job. Coach Rollins said he’d never seen anyone connect so easily to potential recruits, and he credited Jake strongly for the last several years of playoff-bound teams. If you didn’t bring them in, we’d still be in the bottom of our division, Coach told him time and time again. 

While Jake appreciated the accolades and truly did like his job, it wasn’t what he really longed to do. After a complete rotator cuff tear ended his hopes of Major League Baseball career his senior year of college, he’d pinned his hopes on joining the coaching staff. Without any open positions, UI offered him the recruiting job. He had taken it, thinking it would be a fast track into the next open position.

Only he was too good at what he did, so Coach Rollins had hired around him, telling him he was just too important where he was. Such was life. 

But a chance to make Miss Foster scream his name could seriously boost his mood. It would be more than enough to survive the rest of the season. 

Jake caught her looking his way a couple of times over the course of the morning. Each time, he gave her a calculated smile to let her know that all she had to do was say the word and he’d blow her mind. For hours, if she’d let him. 

The only time he wasn’t laser-focused on Miss Foster was when his two top recruits came up to him, bright-eyed and full of questions. 

You were 55-12 last year, right? Trace asked him. He was tall, lanky, and sandy-haired, almost as if someone had called up a kid from central casting for an all-American baseball player. To look at him, you’d never know he threw a 93 mph fastball as a high school senior. 

Yes, sir, Jake answered with a smile. And made it to the College World Series.

Lost to Cal U, though, Javier pointed out, not meanly, just matter-of-fact.

That’s true, Jake answered with a grin. But we’ve had a berth in the series the last eight years, Cal U has not.

But they have four national titles, Trace challenged. How many does UI have?

Jake just smiled. He was used to being questioned by talented young men. Changing their minds about the program was the only thing that made this job fun. It certainly wasn’t the constant traveling, bad hotels, and shitty food. Last year alone, he’d spent well over two hundred days on the road.

Well, then, he said with a twinkle in his eye, "don’t you think we’re due? Next year is our year; I guarantee it. We’ll have Peterson on first, Rodgers on second, Gallardo on third. Boston, Cruz, and Smith in the outfield. Harding and Peña on the mound. Boston alone hit .310 last year. Three home runs in one game, thirty-five for the season, and Harding ended the year with a 2.5 ERA—the best in the league. He dropped his voice and drew the boys in closer. They were already glassy-eyed from his stats. Just imagine. He used a hushed tone. Coming in your freshman year to one of the fastest-growing, most respected baseball programs in the country and winning the school’s first College World Series. He patted them both on the back. Doesn’t that sound like the perfect way to start your college career? By smashing records and making history?"

Trace swallowed and Javier’s eyes rounded with excitement. 

He went on, With you on the mound, Trace, and you behind home plate, Javier, I can’t think of a single team that could stop us. I think with you, the team could win the next four. That is, if you don’t get drafted first.

Drafted, Javier said wistfully.

Yes, drafted. Jake could feel them wriggling on the hook. We have the best pitching and batting coaches on staff, a state-of-the-art facility open twenty-four hours, dedicated physical trainers, kinesiology coaches, and the best living quarters on campus. Guys—he put an arm over each of their shoulders—there’s really no reason to go anywhere else. 

Hook, line, and sinker. They took the bait, signed their names on the interest form, and walked away with armloads of UI recruitment pamphlets and baseball T-shirts.

Easy, he thought to himself, like falling off a log. Unlike his interaction with the hot librarian. He searched her out and growled inwardly again when he saw her perched on the edge of her folding chair, back ramrod straight, legs crossed demurely at the ankle, typing furiously on her laptop. 

What he wouldn’t do to take her back into the stacks of the library and show her exactly how good he could make her feel. Did high school libraries have stacks? Hell, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t going to stop his fantasy.

Chapter 2

AMY

"No, don’t look now," Amy hissed at her friend Lula who came down over her lunch period to eat in the gym with her. Lula was her best friend and a literature teacher at East. Normally they would eat lunch in Amy’s office in the library, but they were making do in the gym today. 

Lula rolled her eyes and stabbed her fork into her salad. You can’t ask me to look at him and then tell me not to. What’s the big deal, anyway?

Amy pursed her lips and took a sharp inhale. "Remember the guy?" She gave Lula a meaningful look.

What guy? Ames, no offense, Lula pointed out, "but there have been a lot of guys in your life."

Some offense. Amy winced inwardly. Though her words came out jokingly, she hated that she was notorious for dating guys for a few weeks and then moving on, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. Not since college anyway. She leaned closer to Lula, so close their foreheads were almost touching. "No, the guy, remember? She took a deep breath. The snorer."

Lula’s eyes flew open in understanding behind her purple glasses. Oh, shit, she said way too loud for a high school gym, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Oh, shit, she whispered. No way. What is he doing here?

Apparently he’s a baseball recruiter for UI.

Ah, for Trace and Javier, I’d bet, Lula surmised.

Amy nodded. By the wide-eyed look on their faces, I’d say he had them wrapped around his finger by the time he was done with them too.

Lula smiled knowingly. And how would you know that? Have you been sitting here watching him this whole time?

No! Amy protested, far too loudly, before dropping her voice back down. I mean, well, Jesus, go ahead and look. I dare any woman not to stare.

Lula shrugged and craned her neck to look around the gym. 

Blue button-up, navy pants, Amy said as she let her eyes slide down his fantastic ass for what seemed like the one thousandth time that day. She remembered digging her nails into it just before the incident. It was rock hard and sculpted to perfection. Was it getting warmer in the gym?

Oh. Lula gasped, then, "Oh, again before she turned back to her with wide eyes. Holy shit, Ames, he’s gorgeous."

I know, Amy breathed. And Lula knew what she was talking about; her husband Dominic was one of the dreamiest men to walk the planet. He asked me out for drinks. But he doesn’t remember me, not even a little bit.

Lu cringed. "Ooh, that’s rough. But he did ask you out again. I mean, clearly you’re working it