Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 1: 6 Romantic sporting novellas

by Janice Thompson

  LOVE’S SPORTING CHANCE

  Volume 1

  Janice Thompson

  TI Lowe

  Jennifer AlLee

  Birdie L. Etchison

  Sadie & Sophie Cuffe

  Lydia Nickerson

  On Thin Ice by Janice Thompson

  The Reversal by T.I. Lowe

  Love of the Game by Jennifer AlLee

  Batter Up by Birdie L. Etchison

  Take a Peak by Sadie & Sophie Cuffe

  Forbidden Dance by Lydia Nickerson

  On Thin Ice

  (A Love’s Sporting Chance Novella)

  By Janice Thompson

  Copyright ©Janice Thompson 2015

  Forget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged Publications

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, with the exception of brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Dedication:

  To the “real” J.J. You poured yourself into my girls, on the ice and off. So grateful for your leadership and your godly input into their lives. And to Kevin Kimbrough. Finally! A book about a guy named Kevin who comes into a lot of money! (I promised it would happen someday!)

  Chapter One

  Mama always said J.J. was born to skate, and she believed her…until that very first competition at age eight. On that terrifying day her mother helped her into a second-hand pink Lycra skating dress, her first-ever pair of borrowed white skates—so stiff they rubbed blisters into her heels—and she hit the ice, completely convinced that Mama was wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Just about the time J.J. took her starting position, the sound of her coach’s voice rang out. The words, “You’ve got this, J.J.!” sent little shivers down the youngster’s spine.

  Or maybe it was the ice sending shivers down her spine.

  Nope, it was fear. With the Galleria rink surrounded on every side by parents, grandparents and passers-by, it was a wonder she didn’t faint dead away on the ice. Instead, she somehow managed to get control of her emotions, pinch her eyes shut, and whisper up a silent “Oh, help!” to the Almighty.

  In that moment, an eerie calm came over her. Fear turned to excitement, and excitement to exhilaration. What happened after that could only be described as a miracle. From the second the music started J.J. soared like a bird taking flight, the sharp edges of her blades singing and dancing across ice as smooth as glass. And when the crowd started cheering—okay, it might’ve been her mom and grandma—giddy delight overtook her. J.J. had found her sweet spot—figure skating—and vowed then and there to never give it up.

  But little girls don’t stay little. They grow up and face reality. Bills. Heartbreak. Unfulfilled dreams. J.J. would rather go back and face a dozen sprained ankles instead of the woes of adult life, especially in the fast-paced world of Houston’s busy advertising scene. If only she could trade in her heels for a pair of scuffed figure skating boots, then perhaps her breathing would steady. Still, she’d made the choice: hang up the skates. Slip on the heels. Head to the corporate office in her high-end suit and wheel and deal with execs who were ready to pay her serious money, far more than the kind she could earn teaching figure skating lessons.

  Imagine J.J.’s surprise when her cell phone rang and her old—er, former—skating coach greeted her from the other end of the line. Four years of barely talking, and now a call? Must be bad news. She responded with her nerves a jumbled mess. “Ann-Marie? What’s up? Everything okay?”

  “Sure, everything’s great. How’s it going?” Her coach’s voice sounded as chipper as always.

  “Oh, you know. Busy.” J.J. tapped her fingers on her computer keys, a nervous habit.

  “I know, I know.” A familiar chuckle sounded from the other end of the line. “Always busy. So, you like the corporate world?”

  “It’s okay. Hustle and bustle. I get to wear nice clothes, though.”

  “Not exactly a hot pink skating costume and tights.”

  “Nope.” She glanced down at her stylish blouse and slacks and then at the expensive shoes she’d just purchased last night after work. These days the idea of a hot pink skating outfit seemed a million light-years away.

  “Do you miss those days?” Ann-Marie asked, her voice carrying a bittersweet tinge.

  “Sometimes.” The word slipped out before she could stop it. J.J. missed the freedom of soaring across the ice, the cool, crisp breeze on her face as she spun, the exhilaration of landing double jumps. “Yeah, I miss it. I was in better shape when I was on the ice, that’s for sure.”

  “Oh, c’mon. I just saw you at the reunion three months ago. You look great. You’re as fit as ever.”

  “Thanks. Wasn’t really referring to my size. I just meant I’m not as limber as I used to be, physically or emotionally. Getting stiff in my old age.”

  “Old age. That’s priceless. What are you…twenty-four?”

  “Twenty-five, thank you. Almost twenty-six. How quickly we forget.”

  “Well, forgetting might have something to do with my age, not yours. Talk to me when you’re nearly sixty like I am.”

  She paused and J.J. had to wonder what she had up her sleeve. “Ann-Marie, I know you. You’re beating around the bush.” A calendar update flashed across J.J.’s computer screen and she did her best not to groan aloud as it reminded her that she needed to be in a meeting in five minutes.

  “Yes. I am stalling. I’ll admit it. But I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You remember Rusty Harrison.”

  “Crusty Rusty?” J.J. chuckled, just thinking about him. “The old coot who ran the hockey rink in Bellaire? The one who almost ruined the USFSA competition six years ago because he refused to let us use his precious hockey rink for the over-spill events? That Rusty?”

  “So, you remember him.” Something in the tone of Ann-Marie’s voice made J.J. nervous.

  “Of course. Did he…I mean, is he…”

  “No, he’s fine. Actually…” A little giggle escaped. “It’s just that, well, Rusty and I have been seeing one another.”

  “Seeing one another? At competitions, you mean? Have you developed a passion for hockey that I don’t know about, Ann-Marie?”

  “No. I mean, well, I do like hockey. A little.”

  “Okay…”

  “J.J., I’m trying to tell you that Rusty and I are dating.”

  She almost dropped the phone. The idea of her all-things-figure-skating coach linking arms and hearts with Crusty Rough-Around-The-Edges Rusty was too much to take.

  “Wow, Ann-Marie. Well, congratulations?” J.J. didn’t mean to add the question mark at the end of the sentence, but there it was.

  “I know. It’s a strange match, but the older I get the more I see that life is filled with unexpected surprises. It’s been eight years since Frank passed away. Eight years. To be honest, I never thought I’d ever consider another romantic relationship. It still seems a bit surreal.”

  “You have to admit, Cr—Rusty’s not exactly the sort of man people would expect you to be drawn to.” A quick glance at the clock caused J.J. to startle to attention. Yikes. Two minutes till the meeting. It would take her that long to snatch what she needed for the presentation and then sprint to the conference room.

  “Right. He’s different.” Ann-Marie’s elongated pause almost gave her enough time to interject a quick “Gotta go!” Almost. “But maybe that’s a good thing right about now.
You know? Anyway, talking about Rusty brings me back around to the reason for my call. He needs a coach at The Big Skate.”

  “A coach? Girl, I don’t play hockey. If anyone knows that, you do.”

  “No.” Ann-Marie laughed. “He needs a figure skating coach, not a hockey coach.”

  “At The Big Skate?” J.J. rose and pressed the items for her presentation into a folder. “They don’t have a figure skating club.”

  “They do now.” The excitement in Ann-Marie’s voice rose to a new level. “Okay, so they will have, once you start it. Don’t you see? You’re the perfect candidate. You have the skills to coach, but you’re also great with the kids. You always have been.”

  “No, no, no, no, no.” Could she say it any plainer? “Ann-Marie, I can’t. I coached for two and a half years, remember? And I barely survived.”

  “At the Galleria. Things are different here, I promise. More laid back.”

  “Sure they are. So, no parents breathing down my neck when their kid can’t land an Axel? No managers chewing me out for not bringing in more clients? No other coaches stealing kids out from under me? I think it’ll be the same, no matter where I go. Not that I’m going anywhere. Just saying, this is a cut-throat business and I’ve already had mine slashed enough, thank you very much.”

  “Which is exactly why I think you’ll enjoy the atmosphere at a new place. There’s no one to compete with.”

  “What do you mean?” J.J. plopped down onto her oversized chair, the papers in her folder spilling out as they hit the desk.

  “You’ll be the only coach.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yep. At least for now.”

  “Well, that raises a thousand questions…like, why am I going to be the only coach? Why have they never started a figure skating program at The Big Skate? Why has Rusty been so opposed to the idea all of these years, and why the big change of heart now? Or, is this just you, trying to convince him it’s a good idea?”

  The exaggerated sound of someone clearing his voice rang out and J.J. looked up to discover her boss, Brendan Norris, standing in the doorway, a strained expression on his face. He raked his fingers through his thinning hair and rested his shoulder against the doorframe.

  Oh. Yikes. As she went to work gathering her papers, a couple of them fell to the floor below. J.J. took a swan dive under the desk to fetch them and hit her head on the way back up. All-the-while, Ann-Marie kept talking.

  “The timing is right, J.J. Yes, I convinced him, but it didn’t take much to do so. He wants The Big Skate to succeed and this is the way to make that happen.”

  As she reached down to grab another paper, J.J. whispered the words, “I’m not a coach anymore, Ann-Marie. Never again. So, thanks for thinking of me, but—”

  “Just five or six hours a week. After work. I’ve already got a student for you and she’s amazing. She’s only thirteen but she’s already got her doubles. Okay, all but the Axel. She’s still working on that one and she’s so close. I’ve taken her as far as I can, J.J. Now I need you to—”

  “Stop, Ann-Marie.” J.J. gathered her papers into the folder, ignoring Brendan’s wide-eyed glare. “No way.”

  “And her spins are amazing. Dead-on. I’ve never seen anyone who centers like she does.”

  “Ann-Marie…”

  “Coordination’s her strong-suit. I’ve been looking for a partner for her. I think she’s got the right build for pairs. Not too tall, not too heavy to lift. If we can find a boy with some muscles, we’ll have it made in the shade with this girl. I can see her now at competition. She’ll wipe out the others.”

  Brendan cleared his throat once more and then pointed at his watch.

  J.J. gave him a nod as she rose and shoved the folder under her arm. “Ann-Marie, I have to go. I’m needed in a meeting.”

  “Promise you’ll think about it. This kid is great. I can see her at Nationals when she’s fifteen.”

  “You said the same thing about me when I was her age.”

  “You came close, J.J. Closer than any of my other students.”

  “Close, but not close enough. My mom didn’t have the money to keep things going. Most parents don’t.”

  “This one has a dad with deep pockets.”

  “But that doesn’t guarantee success, as we’ve seen dozens of times. Ninety-nine percent of the kids who skate competitively reach a point where they just give up because it’s too hard.” She shifted the cell phone to her other ear.

  “You’ll give her hope, J.J.”

  “False hope. And that’s just as bad as losing every competition. Ask me how I know.”

  “Promise you’ll pray about it.”

  J.J. sighed and then the word “Okay” slipped out.

  “Okay you’ll do it, or okay you’ll pray about it?”

  Brendan shot J.J. another sideways glance.

  “I’ll pray about it. Bye, Ann-Marie.”

  “Bye, hon. See you soon.”

  Ugh.

  J.J. ended the call and followed on her boss’s heels down the expansive hallway of Spencer and James.

  “Not sure what all that was about.” Concern laced Brendan’s words.

  “A distraction,” she muttered.

  “Sounded like it.” He turned and gave her a pensive look. “Just remember, I’m counting on you to pull through for me with this presentation. If we can win over these potential clients—if we can land the advertising account for Price-Wise Pharmacy—I might just be able to send my kids to college someday.”

  “No pressure.” A nervous laugh wriggled up. “Don’t worry, Brendan. My laptop is already hooked up to the projector. I made sure the presentation would run perfectly. You’ve already approved the preliminary sketches and ideas. I’m sure the fine people at Price-Wise are going to love it.”

  “They’d better.” As they reached the door of the conference room he gestured at her hair, which she’d twisted behind her ear during the phone conversation. J.J. reached to smooth it out, but, in doing so, dropped the folder on the floor once more. Great. Nothing like making a solid first impression.

  ~

  Kevin slung the sweaty hockey gear over the rink wall and groaned. “Somebody needs to tell those boys to put their stuff away.”

  “Someone like you?” A familiar voice sounded behind him. Kevin turned to discover his uncle Rusty sweeping the floor at the base of the stands.

  “I do my best but those boys…”

  “Will be boys.” Rusty rested against the handle of the broom and gave Kevin a compassionate look. “If I recall, another young buck once left my rink in a mess a time or two.”

  “A time or two?” Kevin stomped off the ice, his blades leaving a trail behind him as he made his way across the rubber mat. “More like a hundred times. Or two hundred, even.”

  “And look at you now.” The edges of Uncle Rusty’s lips curled up in a comfortable smile. “You’re the manager of the rink.”

  “Which is just as messy as ever.” Kevin shrugged. “But I’m working on it, I promise.”

  “Me too.” Rusty went back to sweeping, whistling as he worked.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that? I thought you retired. I can’t seem to shake you. Shouldn’t you be golfing with your buddies or hanging out with that girlfriend of yours?” Kevin emphasized the word girlfriend just to get a rise out of his uncle.

  “Hey now.” Rusty quirked a brow in playful fashion as he glanced up from the messy floor. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

  “Golf?”

  “No.” Rusty rolled his eyes. “The girlfriend part. There’s a lot to be said for having someone cuddle up next to you on the sofa and tell you you’re great.”

  “I have a dog. Liberty is pretty good at making me feel loved and accepted.”

  “Yes, but does she tell you you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread? Does she make you homemade apple pie and the best banana pudding in the city of Houston?”

  Kevin shook his head and co
ntemplated his answer. “No. But she fetches the newspaper when I ask her to.”

  “I happen to know you don’t get the paper, but good try. And I can’t even convince that dog of yours to fetch a ball for me, let alone a paper.”

  “All right, you got me on that one. But the point is, I don’t really have time for a girlfriend right now. I’ve got the rink to take care of, and Jaden…” His words drifted off as he thought about the rambunctious twelve-year-old. “Until his dad gets out of prison, I’m the only father figure he’s got.”

  “And you’re taking that role very seriously, for which I’m grateful.” Rusty paused and cleared his throat. “If I could turn that son of mine around and put his feet on a good path maybe my grandson could have the father he deserves. But in the meantime, I’m grateful for you, Kevin. We all are.”

  “I know. And I didn’t mean for it to sound like Jaden is some sort of obligation. I love hanging out with him. And I was way off-base in saying I’m his only father figure. I know you’re the ultimate dad.”

  “I’m his grandpa. Not sure he’d ever see me as dad material.”

  “Well, I’m happy to be here for him. He’s a great kid. And I love that Chrissy is working at the concessions stand now, so we can all spend even more time together.”

  “Yes, Chrissy.” Uncle Rusty’s gaze shifted to the gorgeous blonde loading kernels into the popcorn machine in the concessions area. “Rumor has it, she has a little crush on you.”

  “Ugh. I could never date my cousin’s ex. Hope you know that.”

  Rusty shrugged. “Not saying it would be a bad thing. I don’t think she’s going to change her mind and decide to remarry Donny when he gets out of prison, so no one would blame the two of you if you, well…”

  “Uncle Rusty.”

  “Got it. No matchmaking. And by golly, it wasn’t my idea to say all of that, anyway. Ann-Marie had this crazy idea that the two of you might be a good match.”

  “See?” Kevin turned to face his uncle. “Women are like that. One minute they’re making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. The next minute they’re telling you who to date. And most of the time their suggestions are just plain crazy.”