MVP
Page 7
I ran down the hall and out the tunnel where the crowd was waiting. And it was a big crowd. Typically people watched us play before the game, but we’d let all the players’ families know what was happening as well as a few close friends.
I was wearing a suit like I always did on game day. Today it was a three-piece gray pinstripe that made me feel like I belonged in Men’s Journal. Miller was wearing a red vest with gray, and he gave me a wink when I jogged to him mid-field.
Kinsey and Emerson were in similar gear to Harley, both stood on the left while Miller stood on the right.
Sanchez soon appeared and joined us while the team chaplain, Dirk, jogged over and stood in the middle.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.” I was going to lose my mind if she panicked, but I didn’t want to wait. She’d said yes, and I wanted to start this season off with my wife at my side. It was time.
“Good thing she didn’t say no, yeah?” Sanchez elbowed Miller.
Miller just rolled his eyes. “Really? Now?”
The bridal march started.
And a teary-eyed Harley appeared on the arm of her grandmother, who had on her own jersey and hat.
They walked slowly toward us.
Harley had a bouquet of blue daisies in her hand, our daughter’s hospital bracelet wrapped around the stems.
My eyes filled with tears as she made her way toward us.
My teammates flanked the aisle way, friends and family members all grinning ear to ear, as my coaching staff looked on and the stadium started to cheer.
She finally made it to me.
“You mad?” I whispered, taking her hand from her grandmother’s and kissing her on her cheek.
“I’m only mad we didn’t do this months ago.” Her eyes beamed at me, and then I grabbed her hand.
She placed it on the bouquet.
Both of our fingers grazed the hospital bracelet.
And I could have sworn when we said I do, a gentle breeze picked up, and the smell of daisies filled the air.
It was right.
Our story wasn’t beautiful.
It was filled with obliterating pain.
But the thing with life is this: pain doesn’t last forever. There will always be a gentle breeze to soothe away the sting, and you may just find that you’re a little bit stronger than before, a little braver, and a lot more willing to live life as it should be lived. Fearlessly.
“You may now kiss the bride!” Dirk announced.
Harley being Harley jumped into my arms, wrapped her legs around me, and kissed me against the mouth, her tongue not even pretending to stay away from mine, her front rubbing against my suit.
It was perfect.
It was us.
The crowd cheered while Kinz and Emerson wiped tears from their eyes and then Harley pulled back and laughed. “Does that mean we get hot dogs now?”
Sanchez burst out laughing. “You get his ho—”
“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” I said without looking at him, causing more laughter amongst the group. “You, Harley Romonov, get whatever you want.”
I would go home that night after a win.
I would walk with my wife to the room I had refused to clean.
I would sit with her and cry.
And then, slowly, we would heal together.
Two Years Later
“Push!” Doctor Snyder encouraged.
Harley gave me a look of pure murder.
“Baby,” I grabbed her hands. “You have to push.”
“YOU PUSH!” she roared.
I jerked back, eyes wide. The woman was possessed!
“Harley,” the doc tried again, his voice calm and firm. “Just one more, all right?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed.
And then I saw him.
The most beautiful baby boy in the entire universe.
“Good job, Mama,” I whispered in her hair.
The doc handed me the scissors to cut the cord, and then I was holding my son, and placing him on Harley’s chest.
She burst into tears. “He’s perfect.”
“He is.”
And then I frowned as I looked at his little foot and saw the tiniest birthmark.
In the shape of a daisy.
Harley gasped.
I couldn’t speak.
The doctor probably thought we were insane when we both cried over our little boy and something that so many parents would think was a beauty mark or at most a minor blemish, when we knew the truth.
The universe had given us another gift, a fresh start, and quite possibly a sign from heaven that said, “I love you.”
WANT MORE RVD?
Did you enjoy this Sports Romance? Then check out this excerpt from Risky Play!
RISKY PLAY
“Where are you staying, Ashley?” Hugo asked.
Oh duh, me. He was talking to me. I was Ashley, not Mackenzie. “Um, the Secrets resort, something…” I frowned. All I could remember was that I’d booked the penthouse with a swim-out because Alton said he’d want his own private pool for us since we wouldn’t be leaving the room at all.
I blushed at the thought.
Funny, since the guy had never passed third base the entire time we were together.
Saving it for later, he said.
Making it special, he said.
He respected my father too much, he said.
Hugo handed me my bag. “Me too.”
“You too?” I said in a confused voice as we were shuffled out of the plane by security and enough police officers to make my head dizzy.
“Secrets,” he said slowly. “It was one of the first ones to pop up on my search engine. I booked it and didn’t look back.”
“Oh.” My head felt warm as I followed him off the plane and toward customs. He went into a different line, not that I was watching.
By the time my passport was stamped and I found my luggage, he was nowhere to be found.
I tried not to be disappointed.
After all, this vacation was about me.
Not the handsome stranger I’d kissed in first class when I thought I was about to die.
“You ready?” Hugo said from behind.
I jerked and then turned as he dangled the keys to what looked like a Ferrari — the rearing horse emblem was a dead giveaway — in front of my face.
I was used to money.
But my family didn’t spend it if it wasn’t necessary.
So renting an expensive foreign car?
Not necessary when you could invest!
Who was this guy?
“You’re not one of those people that kidnap Americans and then get a ransom, are you?” I asked stupidly.
He bit down on his lip. “Do I look like a kidnapper?”
“Well…” I narrowed my eyes and studied him. “No. Yes. I’m not sure.”
He leaned in until we were chest to chest. “Trust me.”
I sucked in a breath, he was so close, and the gold flecks in his eyes were so hypnotic I didn’t even blink. “Can I?”
He shrugged. “Who knows? You’re being spontaneous, you’re the one with all the regrets.”
“Not true—” I started to argue.
He silenced me with a brief kiss that left me shocked, aroused, and my heart pounding. “Then why the question? The one thing you ask before you plummet to your death is what you would do different, which makes me assume you would do a lot of things different, and you don’t look like the type of girl who gets into cars with strange men.”
“That’s because I listened about stranger danger in school.” I smirked.
He barked out a laugh. “I must have missed that lesson.” One side of his mouth lifted in a cocky half smile. “I skipped a lot of school…”
“Shocking.” I crossed my arms.
“Get in.”
“But—”
“Send a text to your mom, dad, best friend.”
I tried not to cringe at th
e words best friend.
“Let them know where you are and where you’re going just in case you really don’t trust me, then get in the damn car.”
He was already taking my bags when I texted my mom my location and turned on my GPS.
And then I was suddenly sitting with a complete stranger in a sexy electric-blue Ferrari that roared to life so hard and fast I almost felt sorry that we couldn’t just take it out for a few hours. Then again, he was a stranger. Would it be weird to ask for a joyride? Something told me that’s how good girls get kidnapped or end up pregnant, sports cars and guys who look like that.
Hugo put on a pair of black Ray-Bans and grinned over at me. “You ready for vacation?”
“Ready.” I wasn’t ready. I so wasn’t ready. This wasn’t me. This behavior. But something was building in my chest, something exciting, something that felt both wrong and right at the same time.
He hit the accelerator.
I let out a scream as we flew out of the airport and down the streets of Puerto Vallarta. We passed malls, restaurants, car dealerships, and finally about ten minutes into our trip he turned right then left, and there we were.
Secrets.
The guard at the gate asked for our passports, then widened his eyes for a brief minute before Hugo slipped something into his hand and fired off something in Spanish.
The man grinned and held out his phone.
Hugo turned to me. “He wants to take a picture of us on our first day. I may have lied and said we were married…”
My face fell.
“It will be quick, promise. No worries.”
Before I knew what was happening, I was leaning in and taking a picture with Hugo, and then I was being helped out of the car and handed a glass of champagne.
The staff seemed a little eager to see us arrive.
Maybe it was the car?
Hugo seemed to calm everyone down with a few gorgeous words in Spanish. I even found myself nodding, though I couldn’t understand a word because he was talking so fast. I could only catch enough to know he was discussing his stay and something else about a newspaper.
I’d stupidly studied French all through college.
That, I was fluent in. But Spanish? Nada.
Okay, so I knew nothing.
Literally.
In seconds, I was swept away to registration. Across the room, Hugo was making sweeping motions with his hands while a little kid ran up and tossed him a soccer ball.
I frowned.
The ladies at registration kept pointing and covering their mouths with their hands while they giggled.
Yeah, I got it, I did.
The man was gorgeous.
Not merely “Oh look, he has nice eyes and a body that could run for days without breaking a sweat,” but really just… beautiful to look at.
All smooth skin, rippling forearm muscles, and bracelets — how did a guy get away with wearing so many different rope bracelets without looking stupid?
I blinked and looked closer. Did he have a braid in his hair too?
Huh.
The same silky hair I’d tugged on.
I shivered.
“Welcome home!” Marta said with a grin. “You’ve booked the penthouse suite for four days. Anything you need at all, and we’ll have a butler personally see to it, Miss—” I grabbed my key cards before she could say my name.
“Thank you!” I interrupted and stood. “I’m tired, I think I’ll just go—” I did a 360. “Where’s the elevator?”
“I’ll go with you.” Hugo flashed me his key card.
“Hmm, you following me now?” I teased.
“Apparently we both have good taste.” He flashed his key card and packet; there were two penthouse suites per floor.
Side by freaking side.
I was P601.
And he was P602.
I shook my head; it was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
These things didn’t really happen, did they?
The elevator dinged at our level, and we stepped off. “I’m just going to…” I pointed to my door.
“Nap? Relax? Drink?” he offered.
“Yeah, all of the above,” I admitted.
“See you around, then.” I felt his smile make its way down my body like a caress and then experienced extreme disappointment after I slid my key card and was met with emptiness when the door opened.
This was supposed to be our room.
Our honeymoon.
Filled with champagne and sex, that was what you did on a honeymoon, right?
Like I would even know.
I walked out to the balcony and swim-out pool as the sound of waves crashing against the sand filled my ears.
A chilled bottle of champagne waited with chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Davis!”
I ripped the card in half, then in thirds, then momentarily lost my mind and imagined setting it on fire, when a voice called out. “Great view, huh?”
Hugo was literally my neighbor except for a partition that blocked him from seeing my pool and into my room.
I gulped and looked out at the ocean. “Yeah, it is.”
“More champagne?” He pointed to my hand still clutching the champagne with a vise-like grip.
“Yeah,” I croaked.
“Are you by yourself?” he asked a few seconds later.
“Yes.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Do you want to be?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, no…
Just then he hopped over the partition, swept me into his arms, and lowered his head. His mouth was searing hot, his grip tender like he knew my shame, my sadness, and wanted to make them go away the only way he knew how. I clung to that kiss like a lifeline and promised myself I’d do whatever it took to forget Alton — and be the girl of adventure I’d always wanted to be.
I was going to start with Hugo.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rachel Van Dyken is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author. When she’s not writing about hot hunks for her Regency romance or New Adult fiction books, Rachel is dreaming up new hunks. (The more hunks, the merrier!) While Rachel writes a lot, she also makes sure she enjoys the finer things in life — like The Bachelor and strong coffee.
Rachel lives in Idaho with her husband, son, and two boxers. Fans can follow her writing journey at www.RachelVanDykenAuthor.com and www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken.
ALSO BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN
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Elect
Entice
Elicit
Bang Bang
Enchant
Enforce
Ember
Elude
Empire
Enrage
Eulogy
Envy
The Bet Series
The Bet
The Wager
The Dare
Seaside Series
Tear
Pull
Shatter
Forever
Fall
Strung
Eternal
Seaside Pictures
Capture
Keep
Steal
All Stars Fall
Waltzing With The Wallflower
Waltzing with the Wallflower
Beguiling Bridget
Taming Wilde
London Fairy Tales
Upon a Midnight Dream
Whispered Music
The Wolf's Pursuit
When Ash Falls
Renwick House
The Ugly Duckling Debutante
The Seduction of Sebastian St. James
The Redemption of Lord Rawlings
An Unlikely Alliance
The Devil Duke Takes a Bride
Ruin Series
Ruin
Toxic
Fearless
Shame
Th
e Consequence Series
The Consequence of Loving Colton
The Consequence of Revenge
The Consequence of Seduction
The Consequence of Rejection
The Dark Ones Series
The Dark Ones
Untouchable Darkness
Dark Surrender
Darkest Temptation
Wingmen Inc.
The Matchmaker’s Playbook
The Matchmaker’s Replacement
The Bachelors of Arizona
The Bachelor Auction
The Playboy Bachelor
The Bachelor Contract
Curious Liaisons
Cheater
Cheater’s Regret
Players Game
Fraternize
Infraction
Liars, Inc
Dirty Exes
Dangerous Exes
Cruel Summer
Summer Heat
Summer Seduction
Summer Nights
Red Card
Risky Play
Other Titles
The Parting Gift
Compromising Kessen
Savage Winter
Divine Uprising
Every Girl Does It
RIP
Co-Ed
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com