Read Balls Fore (Ball Games #4) for Free Online

me about his birth and all the wonderful things about him. Then maybe later, you can explain why I haven’t been a part of it.’
    She nods her head and goes into the kitchen.
    She brings me out a mocha. I take a sip and taste the sweetness. She remembers how I liked my coffee. Yet I don’t have sugar now. Things have changed. I let it go for now. There are bigger issues than sugar.
    Beth gets a photograph album out from a sideboard. ‘There are thousands of photos of Trey on my computer and memory sticks because I can’t stop taking photos of him. I’ll copy a selection over for you. I print the odd ones out though and they’re in here.’
    She sits on the sofa and lays the photo album on her knee. The only way we can both view it is if she gets closer. I see her bite her lip before she goes for it, closing the gap between us. I feel her thigh brush mine. My dick hardens, betraying bastard. It’s what caused this in the first place. I concentrate on the photographs as she turns the cover page over. There is my son - newborn. Beth is looking at the camera with what can only be described as a glow on her face, a look of utter joy despite what I imagine would have been hours of labour, though how would I know? Our son is held against her chest. She is so proud. There’s a deep ache, a hollowness in my chest. If I’d have known, how would I have been on that day? Would my face have been like hers?
    ‘Trey Andrew Woods was born on the Fourteenth April two thousand and thirteen after a seventeen-hour labour. He was a full two weeks overdue.’
    ‘Andrew?’
    ‘My father’s name.’
    ‘Right.’ That fact clarifies how little knowledge we have of each other.
    Beth takes me through the rest of the album. I ask a few questions but mainly listen to Beth narrate our son’s first few years. I realise that she can tell me stories but I’ll never get those years back.
    Album finished I stand up quickly, away from her. I tap my foot. Fidget. ‘He needs to learn I’m his dad. I want time with him. It’s my right.’
    Beth’s shoulders slump. ‘I realise that. Come visit him tomorrow. We’ll tell him, together.’
    ‘Why can’t I see him now? I’m here now. He’s my son. I want to see him.’
    ‘Keep your voice down. He’s asleep. There are more important things than you.’
    ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ I sneer.
    ‘You can go upstairs to look at him if you keep quiet.’
    I hate that she’s right. I want to wipe that sanctimonious look from her face. Instead, I follow her upstairs where she carefully opens the door a crack and I peer at my son. He’s out of his covers, stretched across his bed. He looks so peaceful. I want to hold him in my arms and yet he’s out of reach right now.
    After a few minutes, Beth indicates that I need to go back downstairs. I reluctantly let her close his door.
    As we stand in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, my fingers tap against my thigh. I realise what I’m doing, stop and clench and flex my fist. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow. Then I want to spend some time with my son. Alone.’
    Her eyes narrow and she widens her stance. Her shoulders straighten back and she looks like a Mama Lion who has her cub threatened. I guess that’s exactly what she is. ‘You can have him on your own when I recognise he’s used to you. When I agree it's safe.’
    ‘Are you saying I can’t be trusted? I’ll go to court if I have to.’
    She sighs heavily, like I’m being a nuisance. ‘Leo, I’m not asking this because I don’t want you to see him. I’m his mum. I’ve taught him to be nervous of strangers. He’s not going to be your best friend tomorrow and just go out with you. Also, I’ve not seen you for years. I want to see a police check. I’m sure there’s nothing for me to be concerned about but I’m going to do it anyway. For my son.’
    ‘Our son.’
    Her shoulders slump. The fight has left her.
    ‘Please don’t take me to court. I can’t afford to defend