Catching Coy (Love in Little River Book 3) Read online

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Sneek Peek: Hallie’s Hero

  Love in Little River

  Also by Raneé S. Clark

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by Sweetly Us Press, LLC

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles. This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real.

  Cover design by Sweetly Us Press

  Cover Illustration Credit: Nesterina via Fiverr.com

  Editor: Jenny Proctor | www.jennyproctor.com

  Published by Sweetly Us Press

  www.sweetlyuspress.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  Coy Jones, 27

  Charleston, South Carolina

  Shooting Guard for the Denver Mountaineers

  “Nico is going to kill me because … I’m already in love. First day.”

  It was the dimples that did Coy in. Two of them, pressed into the woman’s cheeks as she grinned and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Bellamy. Welcome to the Ranch House.”

  Her smile had him smiling back, and relief over this whole experience, the fact that he’d let Nico talk him into finding love on a reality TV show—it settled through him as he stared at her and got a little lost in her blue eyes. He’d binge-watched a few seasons of The Catch over the last couple months, preparing to do it himself, and he’d made fun of every single person who insisted that they’d known from the minute they met. He took it all back.

  She—Bellamy—gently tugged her hand away from Coy’s and tilted her head, tucking a piece of her wavy, shoulder length brown hair behind her ear. “Um? Mr. Jones?”

  “Coy,” he corrected. Heat crept into his face at how transparent he’d just been, another thing he’d scoffed at on the screen. The way some contestants made it so obvious how they felt. Come on, this was all a game, and they needed to play things better if they wanted to win. “Is this cheating? I thought I couldn’t meet any of the women until the big thing tomorrow at the gym.”

  Bellamy laughed, her own cheeks growing pink. “I’m not … Um, no. I’m not going to be on the show. I’m the manager of the Ranch House.” She gave him a good-natured grimace. “I’m just here to show you down to the house you’ll be staying at and then make sure you’re fed and all that.”

  Coy’s eyes widened. Yeah, Nico was definitely going to kill him. Coy put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked backward on his heels. “That is really unfortunate. Seriously.”

  She folded one hand over her stomach and tapped her lips with a finger. “Yeah, charmer. I can see why they chose you. You’ll do great with this.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. “I doubt that. I’m much better at playing on the court than in something like this.”

  She moved her finger away from her lips—it took Coy a second to drag his gaze from there as well—and waved her hand. “Eh.” She winked and held out a hand back toward the door he’d just come through. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying.” She walked past him, only glancing back to see if he’d follow, which he did, of course.

  They met his assistant, Zane, as they came back out on the porch. “You must be Bellamy,” he said, holding out a hand. Coy couldn’t help scowling at him. Why hadn’t Zane clued Coy in on who Bellamy was? Coy could have backed out of this long ago and driven up to take this girl out without all the crazy he was about to step into finding love on reality TV. “Zane Campbell,” he said, introducing himself. “Coy’s assistant.”

  “Good to meet you in person, Zane.” She grinned back, which made Coy jealous. “I was just going to take Coy over to the house he’s staying in. She chewed on her lip. “I forgot to clear this up—are you with the crew here at the Ranch House or with Coy?”

  Zane turned to his boss. “With him. I’m not sure he knows how to feed himself.” He and Bellamy laughed.

  “Now, now.” Coy held up a hand, rolling his eyes at his best friend. They’d met playing basketball at Arizona State. “I can make toast and pour a glass of milk.”

  Bellamy glanced between the two of them. “I see what you mean,” she said to Zane. “Luckily, I’m here. I won’t be staying in the house with you, but I will be feeding you breakfast most days. And no one turns down my cooking.” She smirked and headed off the steps, walking toward a side-by-side ATV parked in front of the SUV that Zane and Coy had arrived in.

  “Do you guys want a ride?” She pointed to it. “Or follow me down?”

  “You go with Bellamy,” Zane said to Coy. “I’ll bring the car down. I still need to call Agnes and confirm the schedule for tomorrow.” He waved them on and got back in the SUV. It was another one of those moments Coy was glad that Zane took care of all this stuff. He’d been on the phone when Coy had first arrived at the Ranch House, leaving him to go inside alone, meet the woman of his dreams and discover that she was not supposed to be the woman of his dreams.

  “Hop in.” She gestured to the passenger side as she opened the door for the driver’s side and got in.

  Coy folded himself inside the vehicle, pulling his knees up and making Bellamy giggle. He turned and caught sight of the dimples again and lost pretty much the rest of his heart. He’d better keep this to himself. Contracts and Nico said he had to find love among eight women they were introducing him to tomorrow.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “The ride is short.” She nodded down the road to a gabled, white-brick house with a wrap-around porch. She started the side-by-side and punched it out of the drive, whipping Coy’s head back and making her laugh again. He couldn’t see the dimples, but just the laugh made a thousand basketballs bounce around inside his chest, excitement pounding right along to the beat.

  “So, that’s a big guesthouse,” he called over the sound of the engine.

  “It’s not a guesthouse,” she called back. “You know Taggart Dubois?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s his wife’s house. Well, his too now, I guess.” Bellamy laughed again. “Anyway, they’re on tour right now so it works out.”

  “And that one?” He pointed to another house further down the road, similar in architecture, but two stories rather than the sprawling ranch style house Bellamy pulled up in front of.

  “Roxy—Tag’s wife—it’s her sister Taylor’s. They haven’t moved in yet. It’s not quite finished.” Bellamy parked the side-by-side in the driveway and got out, leading him up to the porch, past a swing he knew Nico and the other producers would salivate over getting a few shots of. Seemed like the kind of thing the show did all the time. “And next week, Coy and
Bellamy take their relationship to all new heights—in the picturesque porch swing.”

  Ahead of him, Bellamy unlocked the door and opened it, taking him inside an open living and kitchen area. With his head still full of the episodes he’d spent weeks watching, it was easy to picture quiet, evening dates in the cozy living room. How were the producers billing this? Were they taking advantage of the fact that this was one of Taggart Dubois’ homes? Of course. He’d bet money on it.

  “Here’s your room.” Bellamy stood down a hallway off the living room, holding open a door. Coy strode toward her, peering into it. A king-sized bed with all white linens sat on a wooden platform, two matching bedside tables on either side with floral arrangements atop them. A dresser in the same shade of wood sat opposite the bed.

  “Very nice.” He nodded at Bellamy but didn’t go inside.

  “Zane’s room is right here.” She pointed to a doorway across from his. “Is there anything else I can get you?” She started back down the hallway and Coy followed, both of them ending up in the living room.

  “Some of that cooking you were bragging about?”

  She grinned, putting her hand on her hip. “Got any requests?”

  Coy, 27

  Charleston, South Carolina

  Shooting Guard for the Denver Mountaineers

  “I have a lot of requests, starting with more time with Bellamy.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Bellamy Hansen, 27

  Little River, Wyoming

  Manager, The Ranch House at the Arrow C

  “I think the cast is going to love spending time at the Ranch House. I’m a big fan of the show and Coy Jones … Yeah, he was a good choice. How could anyone not be a little in love with him?”

  Bellamy had not intended to go to the first day of filming down at the high school gym, where The Catch would announce the eight women competing on the show in game-starters style. Last season, when Bellamy and Roxy had watched Gunner Bent’s season, the women had been introduced on a local baseball field to connect to Gunner’s position with the Boston Brigadiers. One of the things Bellamy couldn’t help but love was the small-town locations the show used to even out the high-profile lives of the pro-athletes on the show.

  The giddy excitement welling up in her as she sat in the bleachers with hundreds of other Catch fans, most of whom had traveled to Little River specifically for this event, was the reason she should’ve stayed away. Yesterday, she’d managed to keep her fangirl tendencies in check when she met Coy Jones, though they’d been tested when he’d smiled at her and thought she was one of the women. She and Roxy had danced around the office when Nico Fox had called and asked to film the latest season at the Arrow C, and Bellamy had promised herself it was the last ridiculous thing she’d do. From there on out, she had to be a professional. Maybe her mother should have stayed on as cook during the filming. Her father wanted to do an Alaskan cruise, and the timing was right for them to go, with the Catch group wanting exclusivity, leaving the cooking to Bellamy. The cruise was a vacation her parents couldn’t do during the winters Bellamy’s mother had off.

  But Nico had given Bellamy a VIP ticket to the filming. Front row on the opposite side of the gym from Coy, and Bellamy just couldn’t turn that down, even though it was a bad idea. What if the goofy side of her took over when the action started? She and Roxy could text for hours over which women were best for that season’s “Catch” and who was crazy and who was in it for real and who had the best chance. Bellamy could totally lose her head, which would look bad when she was trying to put on a professional front for their big-time guests.

  She pulled out her phone to text Roxy. Her best friend had nearly cried when she found out the weeks of filming were over Tag’s latest tour dates. She and Tag had made a serious commitment to be together whenever they could, and even though he had told her to go home during these weeks and help Bellamy, her friend had refused. Bellamy suspected it had to do with Roxy’s newly pregnant status and the hormonal anxiety that would probably make that many weeks away from Tag unbearable.

  Remind me not to be an idiot. The camera could see me, and I have to represent the Ranch House well. Remind me.

  Roxy’s response came back quickly. I can’t. I’m too busy crying with jealousy. Or maybe because none of the chicken and dumplings Tag has gotten from at least six different places in the last week measure up.

  Bellamy couldn’t help a snort of laughter. Of all the things for Rox to crave while she was pregnant. One more month, Bellamy reminded her. You’ll be here in time to watch the finale IN PERSON with me! She added an excited GIF. In the meantime, I will not be an idiot.

  You have never ever been an idiot. Except that season you actually thought Candace the Crazy was going to win …

  That was totally the editing and you know it.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t be back in the locker room getting ready?”

  Coy Jones’ voice brought Bellamy’s attention up from her phone. And up and up and up. She stood on the bleacher almost on instinct. Especially when Coy grinned at her over their joke. She needed to put herself on level footing or at least closer to level footing.

  “You wish.” She grinned back, then wondered if she imagined the way Coy’s gaze drifted to her lips. Sparks were flying between them, but Bellamy couldn’t let herself give in to those. Screwing up an entire season of the The Catch by dating the star would wreck their reputation among the A-listers that had become a huge part of the Ranch House clientele.

  “I do, Miss Bellamy, I really do.” He had the slightest of southern drawls, probably from growing up in South Carolina, but it made the way he said Miss Bellamy sweet enough to melt her insides.

  “Coy Jones, you’re going to have eight women in puddles around your feet by the day’s end.”

  He stepped closer, still grinning. “Odds are that a few of those eight ladies will not immediately fall in love with me, so you’re going to have to be one of those puddles.”

  She almost slapped playfully at his arm but stopped herself. “Boy, you are good. It’s no wonder they got you for this season.”

  “Mr. Jones?” A woman with blonde hair pulled up into a knot on the top of her had came up behind Coy, making him turn, but not move away an inch. Had they begun filming yet? Had the stage manager and the producers seen the way Coy was flirting with her—and, okay, the way she was flirting back?

  “Yeah, Agnes?” Coy asked.

  Ahh, so this was the other producer, the one that would oversee all the onsite details. Bellamy had gotten a few emails from her, but they hadn’t met. Agnes had gotten in late, past midnight, so one of the other crew members had offered to let Agnes into her room instead of making Bellamy wait up.

  “We’re ready to start. Come with me?” Agnes put a hand on Coy’s elbow, not looking up from the iPad in her other hand as she tugged him away.

  “See you around, Bells.” Coy waved as he headed back across the court with Agnes, and Bellamy’s heart did a flip flop, despite the scowl she gave him over the new nickname. Most people shortened her name to Bell, and Bells was … kinda weird, so why did she like it?

  Because she was being an idiot. She had to stop being an idiot.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gillian, 29

  Salt Lake City, Utah

  CEO, Girls Play

  “Hearing my name announced and running out onto the court brought back some awesome memories, especially of being part of a team. I’m here to find my teammate for life, and Coy Jones is definitely the one.”

  The almost deafening cheering, even in this small-town, high-school gym, and the boisterous voice of The Catch announcer had Coy bouncing on his toes. When he caught sight of a camera zooming in on him, he stopped. The reaction to the crowd before a big game was natural to him, but he didn’t want to look too enthusiastic about this. He intended to play it cool and charming. His gaze strayed to Bellamy, across the gym, clapping from the front row. Unlike the women around her, she didn’t ju
mp up and down or wave her arms or scream, but she had an excitement dancing through her eyes; he couldn’t help but wonder what held her back from letting loose like the others. Then he noticed that her stare was zeroed in on him and his heart skipped.

  He swung his gaze back toward Portia Hampton, the host, who was striding toward him. She had played women’s professional basketball, and Coy had met her a few times before this. She was a part of the reason Nico had reached out to him to be the next Catch.

  “Ready for this?” she shouted over the cheering around him.

  He shrugged and couldn’t help a chuckle. “I guess so.”

  The crowd began to quiet, and Portia took the mic, doing The Catch introduction and then pausing before looking out at the crowd expectantly. “What time is it?” she cried.

  In unison, they shouted back, “Catch Time!”

  Portia pumped her hand up a couple of times and turned to the announcer behind Coy, who jumped right into the action. “From Salt Lake City, Utah, CEO of Girls Play and a former UCON point guard, number twenty-six, Gillian!”

  The crowd broke into cheers again as a tall woman with long dark hair, curled down her back jogged out from the locker room area. She wore the trademark “Catch” jersey, emblazoned with her chosen number. Coy couldn’t help wondering if it came from her UCON days. From what he knew so far, each of the women chose a number with special meaning to them. Gillian wore dark-washed skinny jeans and a pair of wedges that didn’t slow her down one bit as she headed over to him.