The Barnes Family Romances: (Books 1-3) Read online

  THE BARNES FAMILY ROMANCES

  BOOKS 1-3

  NORMANDIE ALLEMAN

  Copyright notice © 2018 Normandie Alleman

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  THE BALLER’S SECRET BABY

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  MACHINE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  BISHOP’S DESIRE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ALSO BY NORMANDIE ALLEMAN

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  READ MORE FROM NORMANDIE ALLEMAN

  THE BALLER’S SECRET BABY

  BARNES FAMILY ROMANCE BOOK ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nick

  One Year Ago

  She told me there was a baby.

  That’s how my mother got me to come to her house when I was supposed to be at basketball practice.

  Now that she’s got me there, she tells me there’s not a baby.

  “What the hell, Mom? I thought you said some bitch was growing a mini-me over on the south side, which is why I blew off practice. That’ll cost me thousands in fines. Not to mention coach is gonna be pissed.”

  She ought to know that. Not only was Lucinda Barnes my mother, she was also my agent and the agent for twin brother and sister who are pop stars, and my other sister Dynassy, who’s a model. Between our careers, the family reality show, and our late father’s music—our mother headed up an entertainment empire that had no rivals. And most of the time her children felt more like underappreciated employees than cherished family members.

  I wish I could say I broke the land speed record getting over here, but instead I’d been stuck in LA traffic most of the way, punching the steering wheel trying to remember who the hell I slept with who could be claiming to be pregnant with my child. I was a freaking priest when it came to using condoms. Couldn’t recall one breaking in years. Hell, I hadn’t even fucked many women lately. Once the start of the season rolled around my mind centered on hoops and hoops alone. When I was ballin’, a woman might be a good short-term stress reliever, but in my experience, they were more of a headache than they were worth. If I let them distract me, they only sapped my strength.

  Now, in the off-season—that was a different story. Then I’d had a different woman every night, and I didn’t let them stick around long enough to think they could have a say in my life. God knows there’s only room for one controlling bitch in my life, and it’s my mother.

  Lucinda Barnes is the matriarch of our family, and she makes it impossible for any other woman to last very long.

  Like the mystery one I was summoned to discuss today.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Nick honey?” Lucinda floated around the room wearing spider-like false eyelashes and a colorful caftan. These outfits of hers drove my sister Dynassy crazy. She hated Lucinda’s pretense of just lolling around in these big robes, when she was really in full production mode, face and hair fully done.

  I dropped into the nearest chair. Uncomfortable as always. With as much money as our family brought in for her, I couldn’t see why Lucinda couldn’t afford to find furniture that was both stylish and comfortable.

  “Do you want a drink? You might need one for this.”

  “No, I don’t want a fucking drink, Mother. I’m in training.” I shot her a look. She knew that. How could she be so on top of some things, yet other things skidded under her radar completely? Things that were important to me. “By the way, where are the cameras?”

  Whenever you came to my mother’s house, you ran the risk of being on TV. “Our little show”, as she liked to call it, was one of the highest grossing cable reality shows of all time. “The Barnes Bunch” was in its fifth season and showed no signs of slowing down. Every once in a while, one of us kids threw a fit and refused to be on it, but eventually we all got sucked into the vortex that was Lucinda.
r />   “This is too important to discuss in front of the cameras. Plus, I don’t want to give anybody out there any ideas.”

  “Mom, what are you talking about?” My patience with the whole Lucinda-induced drama was wearing thin.

  Tilting her nose in the air, Lucinda countered, “You don’t need to get snippy with me, young man. If it wasn’t for Calvin and me you might have a dozen little illegitimate Barnes running around out there costing you millions.”

  I took a deep breath, wishing she would hurry the hell up so I could get back to the gym.

  “Do you remember, about two months ago when you banged some girl after a home game? A blonde I think. You checked into the Marmont?”

  Oh, fuck. That’s right. My buddy Kristoff and I had met these two girls at a restaurant. Kristoff had been buying them drinks at the bar. He’s a teammate. Slovenian fresh off the boat who hasn’t gotten used to all the free pussy. His girl’s friend had been cute. Kristoff paid for the rooms, she promised to blow me…yeah, I remembered.

  “Except I didn’t bang her.” It was true. I hadn’t had sex with the girl, but I had taken her up on her offer of a BJ. Hell, I was human.

  “Well, something happened, and you left a little piece of yourself behind,” she paused, waiting for this information to register with me before she continued. “Your semen to be precise.”

  My stomach hit the floor. That wasn’t possible. The only place I’d deposited that was…

  A tsunami of dread overcame me. “I came in her mouth,” I admitted, hiding my face in my hands—not because I was ashamed, but because I was expecting Lucinda to throw something at me.

  “Thank God for Calvin is all I’ve got to say.” Lucinda paced over to the bar and poured herself two thick fingers of vodka.

  “Why? What did Calvin do?” I sat up straight. Calvin was a member of my security detail.

  “He intercepted the little bitch trying to hand off a cup full of your spunk to some motherfucker who was waiting outside. Probably intended to use it to inseminate more than one money-grubbing whore, as many as they could. Honey, do you not understand? Your dick is worth millions to these women.”

  “That’s disgusting, Mom. I’m not a porn star.” Sometimes she crossed boundaries in a way that made me squeamish. I mean, who wants to hear those words come out of their mother’s mouth?

  “No, but you’re a basketball star who’s worth a lot of money, and if a woman is fortunate enough to find herself carrying your baby—she’s guaranteed herself a steady annual paycheck in the millions that will last for the next eighteen years.”

  “Fuck. So you’re saying that bitch kept my cum in her mouth then spit it in a cup and handed it off to somebody?”

  She shrugged, broadcasting disdain from her shoulders. “You’d know better than me.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “People are disgusting. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Only you never listen to your mother. Nick, you’re an attractive man. I’m afraid there’s an entire city here that thinks boinking you is a fabulous way to earn a living.”

  I cringed at the word “boinking.”

  “So what’s the deal? Why did it take this long for you to tell me this?”

  “I only just heard from Calvin. He’s been watching this woman and her cohorts to make sure she didn’t turn up pregnant first. Apparently enough time has passed that if she’d implanted herself with your seed and gotten pregnant before he got to her, we’d know by now.”

  I scowled. “This whole thing is unbelievable.” It pissed me off Calvin was Lucinda’s guy and not mine. So much for loyalty. I mean, I appreciated the guy’s help, but we were talking about my sperm here! Surely, he should have told me.

  Lucinda walked over and patted my cheek. “I know, sweetie. You never do seem to recognize that there are consequences to your actions. You’ve got to wrap that thing, even for oral sex.”

  “Mom!”

  “What? I’m just saying…”

  I stood up. I’d had about all I could take of the “mommy knows best” routine.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Practice,” I said through gritted teeth, already halfway out the door.

  “Don’t bother,” she said smugly.

  Bile rose in my throat, and I glanced back over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been traded.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Eden

  Present Day

  I squirmed in my chair. White-hot interrogation lamps couldn’t have made me feel more scrutinized than the penetrating gaze of the director and head choreographer of the Texas Scorpion Cheerleaders.

  “Eden, we’re just not seeing that fire,” the director Margo King said, drawing out the word fire into at least three syllables and fluffing her red hair.

  “You’re putting us to sleep out there,” the choreographer Andrea Reynolds chimed in.

  I had no idea what they were talking about. I’d been practicing several times a day like always. I was giving this experience everything I had. Cheering for the Texas Scorpions was my dream job, and I’d worked my butt off to get it. Okay, maybe job was the wrong word, considering we only get paid a few hundred dollars a year, but I’d wanted to be a professional cheerleader as long as I could remember. When I was nine years old, I dressed as a Texas Scorpions cheerleader for Halloween. Cheering for the Scorpions was my ultimate goal. They were the best.

  Dumb, huh? That’s what most people think of cheerleaders. Vacuous bimbos with loose morals. If that’s what you think, you’re wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth. At least not at this level.

  No, to be a Texas Scorpions cheerleader you need the skills of a professional dancer, a practically perfect body, and “the look.” The look was subjective of course, but it had been described numerous times as that of “Texas Sweethearts.” Scorpions cheerleaders also had to display appropriate behavior both on and off the field. Last year two girls were released for less-than-stellar reputations. One had posed topless and the photos showed up online, and the other had posted a picture of herself smoking pot on her Facebook page.

  My “real job” is in the medical field, but I’ve been a lifelong dancer, and when I moved to Austin and discovered I could try out for the squad I was thrilled. The first year I tried out, I made it to training camp, and got cut a week before the first pre-season game. After that, I doubled up on my dance classes, worked my butt off, and came back for tryouts again last year. It was a monumental challenge, but I made it, and this year I was finally a veteran.

  In the real world, I’m a doctor, one of those really smart people who finished high school early, did college online and finished medical school by my early twenties. Then during my residency, I invented a device now used in surgical procedures, so rather than practice medicine, I have my own medical supply company that frankly makes more than enough money to keep me comfortable. So—if you think I’m cheering looking for that sugar daddy you’re wrong. I do it because I love to dance, and because most of my life I’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, and I love finally being a part of a team.

  Now Margo and Andrea were telling me that I was lacking. I gulped. They didn’t usually bring you into their office unless they were seriously unhappy with your performance. “I’m sorry. I’ll work on it.” Whatever it took to bring the sparkle back to my dancing—I’d do it.

  "Well," Margo began. "You might want to consult with Judy. You know that dance teacher who helps us out sometimes? She's really good at helping girls who are struggling."

  "But we’re not going to be able to bring you with us to St. Bart's for the cup calendar shoot," Andrea said.

  My heart fell to my toes. Only veterans were allowed to go on the calendar shoot, and I had been so excited to be included in the lineup for this year. I'd been working out longer hours, and I hadn't had dessert in months. But this was like someone putting a piece of cake in front of me, and then yanking it away. "I understand," I managed, tr
ying not to cry, but tears stung the backs of my eyes. These women saw a lot of tears. They had a tough job and I didn’t blame them, but I wasn't going to be one of the girls they had to offer a tissue to either.

  "I appreciate the feedback, and I'll get to work on it right away. I'll call Judy this afternoon." I needed to stop being so frivolous with my free time and really focus on my goals. I’d worked hard to get here, and I didn’t want to let this opportunity slip through my fingers now.

  The two women smiled at the same time. Tight, forced smiles. Practiced, but a smile nonetheless. "Thank you, Eden," they said in unison.

  “Thank you,” I said automatically, rising from my chair. I left the room, closing the door behind me and made my way to the locker room. There wasn’t a time that I stepped foot in that locker room that it didn’t still seem hard to believe that I was a Scorpions cheerleader. Nerdy old me with the big brain and the less-than-bountiful breasts.

  As I changed from my workout uniform to my street clothes I thought about how if I didn’t step up my game I might not be one for long. Maybe Judy would have some tips for me, because I wasn’t sure what Margo and Andrea had been complaining about. I wish they’d given me something more concrete to work on, like improving my kicks, or sharpening up my turns. Unfortunately, their critique had been vague. It was much harder to fix something when you didn’t understand exactly what was wrong.

  It was dark when I stepped outside. The other girls had already gone home, so the security guard walked me to my car. “Thanks, Carl," I said, throwing my bag in the front seat and climbing into my car.

  “Have a good night.” He waved as I pulled out of the parking lot and for one rebellious moment, I considered stopping on the way home for some donuts.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Nick

  My teammate, Legion Harris, scored us tickets. Sideline passes for the Texas Scorpions game. It was the team’s season opener and we had locker room access—the works. Not gonna lie—sometimes it’s nice to be the kings of the court.

  I remember it was one of those rare days in Austin where the crisp, autumn smell hung in the air. My assistant and longtime friend Dwayne, Legion, and I paced the sidelines, getting ready to watch the Scorpions destroy the visiting team. We’d had a couple of pregame beers in the box of one of my sponsors, and now we were ready for the game to begin.