by Julia Blake
“This is insane,” said her now-former boss.
“Looks like you should have taken me seriously all those years ago.” She turned for the door, spotting her best friends on the other side of the glass, ready to serve notice too. Casting a smile over her shoulder, she added, “Oh, and I’m taking Emma and Louise with me.”
Downstairs in the building’s lobby, Nick had been waiting with flowers for all three of them. Thirty minutes later, Emma, Louise, and Rachel were seated around Rachel’s dining room table as Nick opened a bottle of champagne to toast the founding of Game Changer Sports Management.
Now, on her wedding day, she couldn’t imagine anyone else standing up with her as she married the man she loved.
“Are you nervous?” asked her mother, kissing her on the cheek.
“I’ve never felt better about a decision in my life,” she said, but she glanced down at her phone again, hoping for the response she’d been looking for all day.
Nothing.
The next hour passed in a whirl. More champagne and more women appeared in the bridal suite. Then it was time to help her into her dress, a long gown of ivory lace that clung to her hips and flared out in a gentle bell around her legs. When the last button was closed on it, her mother took up her hands.
“Are you nervous?” her mother asked again.
This time Rachel hesitated. It was all real now. There were no more fittings or tastings to take care of. She was about to marry Nick, and somehow putting on the dress she’d picked out almost eight months before had made her nervous.
Slowly she nodded. “A little.”
“Do you want a little room to breathe?” asked her mother. “I wish someone had asked me that on the day I married your father. And your stepfather.”
She laughed and took a deep breath. “That would be good.”
Her mother straightened and announced in no uncertain terms that everyone was to clear out and give the bride a little space. They all shuffled out around a large screen made of panels of gold cloth.
Rachel picked up her lipstick and touched up the bow of her mouth. She was replacing the cap when a knock came on the door.
“Come in!” she shouted, setting the lipstick on the silver tray holding her makeup.
The door opened partway. “Are you sure you want me to see your dress?”
Nick. A grin broke out over her face and all of her nerves calmed.
“So much,” she said.
Cautiously he stepped around the screen that obscured the view from the doorway and stopped cold.
She spread her arms out and executed a little turn. “What do you think?”
His eyes smoldered. “I think that I’m marrying the prettiest girl Prescott, Arizona, has ever known.”
She laughed and went to his outstretched arms, tilting her face up to kiss him.
He pulled back a little. “Is your mother going to kill me if I ruin your lipstick?”
She tilted her head in thought. “No, but Emma might.”
“Noted,” he said, and kissed her on the temple. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your texts this morning. Kevin took my phone away and only just gave it back. I think the whiskey made him feel a little loose.”
She laughed. “I’m not surprised, given how hard he’s been working in the off-season. One little drink is all it takes.”
She ran her hands up the sleeves of his tuxedo and let them rest on his chest. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m the luckiest man in the world and my luck’s only getting better,” he said.
“No regrets?” she asked.
He caught her hands and kissed the backs of them one by one. “My only regret is that I never worked up the courage to ask you out in high school.”
“We got there in the end,” she said.
“After a second chance or two.”
“It’s a good thing I’m a generous woman,” she said.
He laughed, playing with the flashing diamond ring he’d put on her finger a year ago almost to the day. He’d bought it on the anniversary of their first drink together, he’d later told her, and kept it secreted away in his locked desk drawer at his job.
He’d landed a position at Sporting, a small but growing national sports network, as one of their lead investigative reporters on a new hour-long documentary series called After the Call. In his first year, he’d won an Emmy for an undercover story about an illegal gambling ring run out of a Missouri Little League and been promoted to host of the show. He kept a laminated copy of Our Rules—which now stretched to three pages—on his desk at work, and the one time it looked like a story of his might involve one of her clients, he’d handed it over to another reporter without any objections.
Six months after dating and five months after Nick’s start at Sporting, he’d moved into Rachel’s apartment. She’d even cleared out some of her shoe collection to give him shelf space in the closet.
New jobs, new life, new steps.
“So, are you ready to get married?” he asked.
Twining their fingers together, she squeezed his hand. “Now I am.”
“Okay, I’m going to risk Emma’s wrath.” He dropped a kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”
Sure enough, thirty minutes later, on the arms of her mother and her stepfather, Rachel Pollard walked down the petal-strewn grassy aisle set up under the lush cherry trees at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden toward Nick Ruben. No one knew that the groom had already seen the bride in her gown, and all the guests swore they’d never seen a happier-looking man in their lives. Rachel kissed her parents on the cheeks, then joined hands with Nick as the bridesmaids, Emma Robbins and Louise Gardner, and the grooms people, Kevin Loder and Mindy Choi, looked on. Chris Miller sat in the front row of the groom’s side, nervously fiddling with his boutonniere until the officiant, Erica Rodriguez, called him up to the microphone to give the first reading.
When finally Erica, who had become ordained specially for this ceremony, pronounced them man and wife, Nick swept Rachel up, dipped her, and kissed her to the cheers of their closest friends and family.
Nick grasped his wife’s hand. “Are you ready for this?”
She nodded. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”
And together they ran down the aisle.
Acknowledgments
This book is, first and foremost, for Dad. I’ve always thought it was fitting that you took me home from the hospital only to watch our first Super Bowl together with me sleeping in your arms. We’ve sat through UCLA football triumph and heartbreak, gone to basketball and hockey games, seen the 1999 U.S. women’s team become World Cup champions, followed the Tour, and played countless hours of tennis. You taught me how to throw a football (a success) and shoot a basketball the right way (a noble failure). I couldn’t have written this book without the love of sports you shared with me.
Thank you to the HBIC—Alexis Anne, Alexandra Haughton, Lindsay Emory, Laura von Holt, and Mary Chris Escobar—who are the best writing group and friends I could ever wish for. Alyssa Cole, Katana Collins, Audra North, and Katherine Ingram all read early versions of this book and made it better in so many ways. Tamsen Parker held my hand and reminded me it was going to get done. Mat Katz once told me he should get credit for consulting on weight lifting questions (he’s right). Sonia Moghe, Jackie Reeves, and Christy Cloninger are always unwavering in their support.
Thank you to my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim.
Thank you to Marla Daniels—my wonderful editor, who saw the potential in this book—Tricia Callahan, Christine Masters, Min Choi, Michelle Marchese, Jean Anne Rose, and the entire team at Pocket.
But most of all, thank you to Mum, Dad, Justine, and Mark for always keeping the faith.
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About the Author
JULIA BLAKE is the award-winning author of sexy contemporary romances about smart, sassy women and the men who love them. She picked up her first romance novel and the bad habit of reading well past her bedtime when she was thirteen. Years later, she decided to try writing romances of her own and never looked back. Julia also writes historical romances under the name Julia Kelly. An Emmy-nominated TV producer and recovering journalist, Julia has called Los Angeles, Iowa, New York, and England home. She never met a pair of stilettos she didn’t love and still stays up too late reading. Readers can visit JuliaKellyWrites.com to learn more about Julia and her books and sign up for her newsletter so they never miss a new release!
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Julia Blake
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.
First Pocket Star Books ebook edition August 2017
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ISBN 978-1-5011-6275-6