Can't Help Falling in Love Read online

  CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE

  The Gentileschi Sisters

  Book 3

  Kathryn Shay

  Can't Help Falling in Love

  Copyright © 2018 by Kathryn Shay

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  Published by Ocean View Books

  Cover Design by Shelley Kay at Web Crafters

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Author's Note

  The Gentileschi Sisters series

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Once upon a time, in a faraway land called Casarina, lived King Alessio Gentileschi and Queen Renata. Their seven girls are the center of their lives. All grown up now, these women journeyed to the United States to train or educate themselves but the king and queen fear they will never return home.

  Who are the princesses of Casarina?

  Callandra (Calla) Gentileschi, 31, heroine in NO OTHER LOVE, in the To Serve and Protect series. Married, with one child, Razim, she resides in the U.S. for six months and in Casarina for the other half of the year.

  Francesca (Frankie) Gentileschi, 29, cop in Baltimore City, just transferred to a new task force. She uses the queen’s surname, Marcello.

  Gabriella (Brie) Gentileschi, 27, grade school teacher in a low income area, plans to open her own school in the U.S.

  Ravenna (Raven) Gentileschi, 26, artist, art therapy practice, and has illustrated her sister’s children’s book. She uses the queen’s surname, Marcello.

  Evangelina (Evvie) Gentileschi, 24, dedicated neonatal nurse, main hobby is watching major league baseball.

  Mariela (Mari) Gentileschi, 23, widowed at 20, she’s now in Georgetown Law School and has a five-year-old daughter, Lilliana. She uses her married name Moretti.

  Alexandra (Lexy} Gentileschi, 21, has just sold her children’s book to an American publisher. She uses the queen’s name, Marcello.

  The men of The Gentileschi Sisters:

  Connor Marino, husband of Callandra, hero of NO OTHER LOVE.

  Tyrell Beauregard Collingsworth, cop in Baltimore, on the same task force as Francesca.

  Dante Federico, new Physical Education teacher at Gabriella’s school.

  Blake Parker, gallery owner, plans a show of Ravenna’s art.

  Mike Jagielski, star player on the Baltimore Raiders major league baseball team, meets Evangelina at a game.

  Jordan Dubois, professor at Georgetown Law School, has Mariela as a student.

  Ryder Reynolds, vice president of Reynolds Publishing, buys Alexandra’s children’s book.

  Chapter 1

  “I’m so glad you came for a couple of days.” Brie made the statement as she dressed for the last day of school in her bedroom. Evangelina sat on her sister’s bed, watching her. “But I’m sorry about the baby.”

  A preemie had been born in the neonatal unit at the Children’s Care Center yesterday and died three hours afterward. Since Evvie had tended to the infant and was suffering over his death, she’d come to D.C. to stay with Brie to grieve...and to escape. “Thanks for letting me hang out here. I usually lay this all on Frankie, but she’s out of town.”

  “I wish you’d come to me more.” Brie smiled. “I’m not that fragile, you know.” Last year had been tough for her sister.

  Evvie smiled broadly. “I will, then.”

  “Your guys are here in D.C.”

  Baseball was Evvie’s go-to thing to cheer herself up and today, the Baltimore Lions, her favorite team, would compete against the Washington Raiders in an away-game matinee. “They are. For their yearly rival game.”

  “That’ll certainly distract you.”

  “Yep. And the atmosphere of any baseball park soothes me.”

  “All those screaming fans?”

  “I imagine your classroom resembles them sometimes.”

  “Nah.” Brie taught in a low-income school. “I’ll be home by four but don’t rush getting back.”

  “I’ll get dinner ready before I leave so you don’t have to do anything later.”

  After Brie left, Evvie made an easy marina sauce, cooked up some meatballs and assembled lasagna. The spicy scent reminded her of home in Casarina, an island off the coast of Italy. Deciding to wait on the salad, she dressed in white shorts and a blue sleeveless top since she’d left her Baltimore jersey with Luke Prescott’s name on the back at home. After tying her hair back in a ponytail, she looped it through the back of a cap and headed out to the Metro which would take her to the game.

  A half hour later, as she walked up the concrete ramp into the stadium, she noted the slick touches on their brand-new arena: the well-padded seats in bright blue, the Raiders colors, sparkled in the sunlight. The iron railing caught the rays, too, and Evvie would bet her Baltimore memorabilia that weeds didn’t dare spoil the impeccable grass. Like all baseball stadiums, the advertisements on the billboards along the perimeter of the field glared garishly at the spectators, but she liked the readability of the scoreboard. All in all, she preferred Lions Field, of course, but this space was acceptable.

  Surrounded by the scents of popcorn and beer, she climbed the steep steps up to one of the top rows because she’d gotten her ticket at the gate. For her season pass to the Lions games, she’d snagged a seat between home plate and first base. But she wasn’t complaining about today. Just being here lifted her spirits.

  Evvie settled into her spot, and the pregame festivities began. The announcer introduced the Baltimore players and then the home team, led by their captain Mike Jagielski, jogged onto the field. Rumor had it that he was a womanizer, but the crowds loved him. Of course, his batting was phenomenal. The average in Major League Baseball for 2016 was .255, and the all-time league average was between .260 and .275. However, The Jag might even come close this season to Ty Cobb’s superb career high of .366. She clapped politely.

  When play started, she watched the Lions strike out, three up, three down. The Raiders took the field, and the first batter strode to home plate. Jagielski cut an imposing figure out there as he swung at the first pitch, popping it foul. He totally missed the second, and she hid a smile. He was rather...disappointing.

  The announcer talked over the loud speaker; she tuned in when he said, “Look at those pitches, Pete. They register 103 miles per hour.”

  “Yeah,” Pete replied. “But I have faith in The Jag.”

  On pitch three, The Jag swung hard. Evvie predicted a strike, but he got some wood and the ball soared up high and deep behind him. Calmly, Evvie watched the sphere arc then begin its downward trajectory. She prayed a fan would catch it so no one in the stands would be hurt. Heck, the ball seemed to be coming at her, but she didn’t believe she’d get hit. Nothing bad ever happened to Evangelina Gentileschi.

  As the ball neared the crowd, a man two rows down leapt up, knocked it off course. It landed on Evvie’s ankle with lightning force.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” she cried out and tried to grasp her foot.

  �
��Holy cow! Somebody got hurt!” She heard the announcer through the pain, but his voice was somewhat muffled.

  “Hey, she’s hit,” a spectator yelled.

  “You okay, ma’am?” the boy next to her asked.

  Evvie doubled over and couldn’t catch her breath. Blinding agony radiated from her foot and shot to every nerve ending.

  Another person called out, “The medics are coming.”

  Head down, she tried to take in air. She was a nurse and knew how to calm herself but...

  “Oh, my God.” Suddenly something blocked the sun and she felt a body lean over her. “Oh, my God, are you all right?”

  Finally, she could talk. “I...I...”

  A hand on her back. Rubbing in circles. That calmed her some.

  “I’m so sorry. Where did you get hit?”

  She pointed to her foot. “Hurts.”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  Someone appeared on the other side of her. “I’m Joe, a paramedic. Where are you hurt?”

  “M-my ankle.” The pain hadn’t abated, and she felt her eyes sting.

  Crouched down, the paramedic asked, “Can you get your foot up to the top of the seat in front of you?”

  Evvie said, “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll help.” The man in the sun’s way again. “Can you sit back so I can pick up your leg?”

  When she eased away, he placed his hands under her knee, drew it up, then straightened her leg over the seat, her foot resting on his thigh, which was when she realized he was in the row below her. Gently, he untied her sneaker and removed her little sock. The medic handed him an ice pack. A tear fell as the man wrapped her ankle. When he looked up, he said, “Damn.”

  The paramedic leaned in close, too. “You’ll need to come to the medical tent.”

  She could speak now. “Okay.” She tried to stand, but she fell to her seat.

  Grasping her arms, the guy steadied her and she managed to brace her weight on her other foot and draw herself up. She wobbled and then—what, oh wow, he bent over and scooped her up into his arms.

  Her stomach started to roil at the motion so she cuddled into his chest. He was sweaty and damp, with felt letters on his...uniform, it had to be. Slowly, they took the steps downward.

  Loud clapping. Then she heard the announcer say, “There you have it, folks. If Mike Jagielski hasn’t won your affection before, this cinches it.”

  “Yeah, but Pete, he left the game.”

  “The ref called a time out.”

  “Huh. Anything for The Jag.”

  * * *

  When they got to the medical tent, Mike set the woman down on a cot off to the side that Joe pointed out. She’d stopped whimpering, thank God. When she lifted her head, her eyes widened. “Oh, dear.”

  “I hit the ball that clobbered your foot.”

  “It’ll be okay with some ice.”

  Someone pulled at his arm from behind. “You gotta come back to the game, Jagielski. Time out’s almost over.”

  “No, I...”

  “Now!” Coach Silver was adamant. Shit.

  “All right.” To her he said, “I gotta go. But I’ll come back.”

  “No need. Play your game.” Then she closed her eyes.

  Reluctantly, Mike returned to the field. At the plate, still pissed at himself, he whacked the ball as hard as he could.

  And watched it soar upward and outward until it traveled right over the fence. He rounded the bases without a smile.

  Coach came up and high-fived him. “Jesus, Jag, you’re a bundle of contradictions.”

  “I gotta go back to the tent.”

  “You can’t. You’ll stay and play third base.” Just as he said the words, they heard, “Strike three.”

  “Did you hear me?” Now Silver’s voice was annoyed. “Get out there!”

  Mike got his glove and ran to his base, wondering how the fan in the medic station was faring.

  Play progressed slowly. It took a while, but he got his head in the game until the end. Then he bypassed the team jumping for joy and amidst the raucous cheers of fans, he jogged to the medical tent. When he entered the space, Mike asked Joe, “Where is she?”

  “The lady who was hurt?”

  “Yeah. Did she go to the hospital?”

  “No, she’s a nurse. She knows what to do.”

  He scowled. “She didn’t drive herself outta here, did she?”

  “Her sister came to pick her up.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I can’t give away any information on a patient.”

  “Come on, I just wanna send her flowers or something.”

  “Sorry, Jag. Even for you I can’t break the rules.” Joe walked away.

  As Joe attended to another patient, Mike scanned the tent. He didn’t know why he crossed to the cot where he’d left her. Oh, yeah. A purse peeked out from under the pillow. Because the small rectangle was white, the thing was easy to miss. Glancing around, he slid it out and under his shirt. He walked out without telling anybody of his discovery. He didn’t want to leave her belongings and risk someone else stealing what was inside.

  Or so he told himself.

  * * *

  “Really, Brie. I can go home.”

  With a stern expression on her face, Brie peered down at her sister where she sat on the bed, her foot propped up on pillows and encased in an ice pack. “Of course you can. But I’m not letting you. You’re still in pain.”

  “Actually, I’m not. We’ve iced my ankle on and off all day so I’m fine. The skin will turn some nasty colors, but I probably won’t even limp when you let me get up.”

  “Humor your older sister. If you don’t, I’ll phone the others. You know what they’ll say.”

  “I know they’ll come here. This isn’t a big deal. Last year, 1750 people were hit by balls in a stadium.”

  “Yeah, but they weren’t my sister.” Brie slid onto the bed next to Evvie and encircled her with her arm. “Evvie, Evvie, Evvie, you take care of sick babies all day long, but can’t let anyone care for you.” Brie knew this tactic would work.

  “I suppose.” She tossed back all those chestnut curls and sighed.

  “So tell me how this happened.” Brie was trying to distract her. “All you said was you got hit by a ball.”

  Evvie’s eyes widened. “Can you imagine? Thousands of people in the stands and I’m the one hit.”

  “Nothing bad ever happens to you.”

  “That’s what I thought as the ball hurtled toward me.” She shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”

  “Tell me the details.”

  Evvie giggled.

  “What?” Brie asked.

  “The player who was batting leapt over the dugout and climbed up into the stands to see if I was okay.”

  “During the game?”

  “Yeah. That’s not unusual. Last year in Tampa, a woman was hit, and the player went to see how she was.” Evvie bit back a smile. “But, um, then the guy scooped me up and carried me to the medical tent.”

  “Seriously?” Now Brie giggled. She hadn’t giggled much in a long time and it felt good. “Was the game over?”

  “No, they called a time out for The Jag.”

  “Who’s The Jag?”

  “The star player on the Washington Raiders team. Mike Jagielski.”

  Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, Brie pressed some buttons.

  Evvie leaned over. “What are you doing?”

  “Finding him...oh, my God, this guy played Prince Charming?”

  “Prince? We’re princesses. Is that supposed to be a pun?”

  “Maybe. What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing. He had to go back to the game. Let’s not talk about him anymore.”

  “You have no sense of drama.”

  “Don’t you think we’ve had enough drama in our family last year?”

  Brie started to close down but kept herself from doing it.

  “Oh, Lord, I’m sorry. You
were kidnapped. How could I be so insensitive?”

  Sixteen months ago, Calla’s husband had Brie kidnapped to force Calla to go back to Italy. Brie wasn’t hurt, but she still had nightmares about the event every once and a while. Even now, thinking about the ordeal made Brie shiver.

  “I’m doing a lot of things to make myself better.” Brie checked the time on her phone. “As a matter of fact, I have an appointment with my psychologist in an hour.”

  “On Saturday night?”

  “That’s the time she could fit me in. I only have appointments once a month now.”

  “Go, then.”

  “Nope. You’ll leave.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll cancel unless you promise not to.”

  “Fine. Just get me my purse so I have my phone to play on.”

  “I will. And you left some knitting here, too.”

  Brie slid out of the bed and retrieved her sister’s yarn and needles from a basket by the dresser. Then she headed for the living room. She spotted Evvie’s hoodie on the chair and crossed to it. She went back in the bedroom frowning. “Your purse isn’t here.”

  “It’s with my...oh, good Lord, I didn’t get it when I left with you. I had the shirt tied around my waist.”

  “No big deal. I’ll go to the stadium before my appointment. Meanwhile, you can call the office there on the landline.”

  She nodded.

  “What did you have inside?”

  “My ID and phone. Some gum, I think. And about forty dollars.”