False Start (Mavericks #1)

by Julianna Marley

  “Don’t you worry about me,” Shay laughed, his eyes following Whitney as she plopped down into a chair slipping off her shoes. “I’ll be just fine.”

  Spotting Liv’s black gown in the crowd as she talked animatedly to Bill Mathis’s assistant, he cupped Shay’s shoulder.

  “Excuse me.”

  Moving towards his wife, who in his opinion had already been on her feet for far too long already, he placed his beer down on a tray. Between her ribs not a hundred percent healed and her belly holding the newest member of their family, he made it his mission to ensure she was not overdoing it. Zeroed in on the diamonds running down her smooth back, he wrapped his arms around her waist taking in his favorite scent in the whole world.

  Her body jumping, taken off guard, she chuckled realizing that it was him who was pushing his groin into the small of her back. Turning around in his arms, he swore it had been the hundredth time that day she had taken his breath away. And she was all his.

  “In case I haven’t told you enough today,” he smiled as she hung her arms around his neck, “you’re amazing.”

  “You have, but I’ll always take that compliment from you, Captain,” she winked, kissing his lips softly.

  “Mama, my feet hurt,” Hannah complained, pulling on the bottom of Liv’s dress.

  Leaning against his hip, Hailey whined, scratching her legs. “My stockings itch.”

  Bending down, Liv picked up Hannah much to his chagrin.

  “I’m fine,” she said, giving him a warning look before he had a chance to object. She had done what she promised him she would do the night after Hudson Beach when he had made sweet love to her. She was going to start relinquishing control, allowing herself to relax and take life as it came. Along with talking to someone about shedding all the unrealistic expectations she had put on herself for so long. Although it hadn’t been easy for her, she was coming around. Handing over a larger portion of the business work to Ross, she was concentrating on her real passion of designing. Giving her more time at home with the girls and with him, focusing on their family.

  “You’re stubborn,” he accused, picking up Hailey, helping her scratch her itchy knees.

  “And you love it,” she smiled back.

  He did.

  “You can take these off after Aunt Chelsea and Uncle Trevor are finished dancing,” she whispered, rubbing Hailey’s legs as they walked closer to the dance floor.

  “But you can’t take these off,” she teased, tickling Hannah’s feet, getting a giggle.

  Wrapping his free hand around Liv’s belly, he pulled her into him. A belly that nobody would have suspected was carrying their third child. But he knew, he could see her changing every day. Growing a baby that was made from nothing but love and a whole lot of hope. Resting her head on her mama’s shoulder, Hannah smiled as Hailey let out her second yawn of the night, snuggling closely into his neck. In the end he knew it had all been worth it. He knew he would go through it a thousand more times if he had to for his family because he also knew that he was without a doubt, the luckiest bastard on the planet.

  The

  End

  Coming Soon in The Mavericks Series…

  “Where the heck am I?”

  Whitney Scott looked down the long empty corridor adorned with jumbo action shots of various Carolina Mavericks players plastered on the walls. She had somehow managed to not only get completely lost, but landing her in which she only assumed was the basement of the building. She wasn’t even entirely certain she was in the right building at all. As much as she hated to admit it, she shouldn’t have pressed her boss to let her do this errand. Not today. But she also couldn’t just sit home and do nothing. The quietness and waiting around only led to more thinking and right now, having too much time to think was bad. Very, very bad.

  All she needed to do was to find the General Manager’s office and drop off an invoice from the draft party that her fabulous bosses had thrown for the football organization a few weeks ago. It made sense that nobody was in the basement of the Mavericks stadium. She knew enough about the team from planning their events to know that the season wasn’t due to begin for another few weeks.

  She had promised her boss that she was well enough to deliver this invoice, but at eight days past her due date, the waves of contractions growing stronger with each passing hour, she wasn’t so sure it had been her wisest decision. Despite having contractions for the past day and a half, she had an innate feeling she was going to be in labor and delivery sooner rather than later. Leaning against the pictured walls, she braced herself for another round of pain. Yes, this definitely had not been her best idea, but as her mama always enjoyed reminding her, she was impulsive and once she got an idea in her head, there was no stopping her. Her bosses of course knew nothing of the contractions and so when she begged them to let her do this one errand, they caved in like she knew they would. Now all she had to do was find this gosh darn office and then somehow drive herself to the hospital because she was almost positive that she was going into active labor.

  “Hello?” she called out again, catching a small breath. It was pointless. The place was as dead as an ice cream shop in the middle of a snowstorm, although they didn’t get snow. Not in South Carolina. Snow would be nice. Born and raised in Louisiana before moving to the Carolinas, she couldn’t remember the last time she had experienced snow, the pressure of another contraction reminding her that it wasn’t the time to be concerned with weather-related fantasies. Maybe if she could just get to the end of the hall there would be a janitor or a security guard, just someone that could lead her to where she needed to go.

  “Somebody?” she yelled again, grabbing her stomach, trying to keep track how far apart the contractions were coming. Was it five minutes or three minutes apart before she had to call the doctor? Pulling out her cell phone to call her obstetrician, the no service sign flashed in the corner. That’s right, she wouldn’t have reception because she was lost in a basement somewhere with not a single soul in sight. Sliding down to the floor taking pressure off her legs, she leaned her head against the wall, the height of the pain stopping her breath. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be at home cozy on the couch or watching the new episode of Real Housewives before her water broke, giving her a warning sign that the baby was coming. Then she would drive herself to the hospital, check herself in and get a nice dose of pain medication before she had a chance to feel any of the pain that was now rippling through her stomach. No. This was definitely not how it was supposed to be.

  Bracing herself again for another surge, she sucked in a breath. Gosh, she should have taken those la mas classes that her boss, Liv recommended. But she just didn’t understand how strategic breathing would help with pain in the middle of pushing a human out of your body. She understood it now though. The contractions started days ago and when she had called her doctor’s office they had told her not to come to the hospital until they were five minutes apart, or was it three minutes? So she muddled through the pangs of pain, even managing to get a pedicure. Her mama would had frowned upon her having contractions in a pedicure chair, but it felt as if this baby was never going to come.

  “Hello!” she yelled just for the heck of it. Clenching her stomach, she braced herself again. She needed a game plan. If this pain got any worse she was convinced her last vision in her short twenty-nine years of living would be the Mavericks’ quarterback holding up a trophy on a wall in a basement of a football stadium.

  “Somebody help me!” she whispered, falling over on her side clenching her stomach, the pain taking over. “Anybody.”

  Acknowledgments

  The twenty-two year old me would like to thank the man or woman who made a big typo in the course catalogue back in college when they mislabeled an intense creative writing class. I would also like to thank my advisor for leaving me no choice but to stay put in that terrifying class because it was too late to get into another course. And thank you to that college
professor for making me fall in love with writing.

  Fast forward nine years later and a large box hiding all the stories I had written in that class, one of them containing the beginning of “False Start”, I am thankful for the crazy idea to continue that story and never in a million years did I think I would be sharing it with the world. And there are a lot of people to thank for that.

  Jason: Thank you for your unwavering support and for pushing me through all the times I was ready to give up. Thank you for eating barely edible meals for nearly twelve months while I wrote and for being the dance class dad because I JUST HAD to get another chapter out of me. Thank you for listening to all my crazy ideas on long car rides and for loving this story and these characters almost as much as I do. But mostly, thank you for always putting my dreams ahead of your own. I love you something awful.

  Jocelyn: Thank you for not only being my inspiration, but also, “my why”. You are all that is good in my life and I continue to dream and push past my own comfort zone to make you proud and to be a shining example for you each and every single day. Baby girl, you can be anything you want to be in this world, even if it doesn’t make sense to anybody else, you must always chase your dreams. I didn’t always believe that, but I do now. I promise as your mama to always help you and show you how to do just that. To live out your dreams. I love you to the moon and back…and then some more.

  My parents, sisters, brothers and entire family: I was so nervous to tell y’all about this new project at first. Thank you for making me feel so silly for ever doubting your love, encouragement, and faith in me. I love you. You’re my people.

  Angela, Corinne, Cadi, & Sam: Thank you for being the best friends a girl could ask for. Thank you for always making my pain, your pain and for believing in me when I don’t believe in myself. I love my bitches!

  Heather: My sanity in this crazy new world of writing, thank you for always giving me the smack on the ass that I need to push forward and give me courage. Thank you for all your extra time, energy and help. You’re incredible.

  Ellie: Thank you for editing a novice writer’s work and for taking on this story without blinking an eye. You really are a magical unicorn.

  Shann: My “cover angel” whose simple words, “want to try something different?” turned out to be one of the best decisions I made for this book. Thank you, I love this cover. And you!

  YOU: In case you weren’t aware, this book is for you. Yeah, you. The next one will be for you too. For the ones who need some quiet time after putting in a full day or need to escape for a little while, these books are for you. And nothing will ever bring me more joy than hearing that I, little ol’ me, could provide that for you.

  My journey in this overwhelming and fascinating world of writing and self-publishing has already begun and because you’re reading this right now, it means that you are on this journey with me. I can’t wait to have you beside me as I navigate this new adventure and hopefully inspire, encourage and entertain you.

  THANK YOU!

  THANK YOU!

  THANK YOU!

  All my love yesterday, today & tomorrow.

  About the Author

  Julianna Marley is fairly certain that she was born on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line. She’s in constant search of warmth, sunshine and water. When not writing about all the places she yearns to be, she can be found enjoying obnoxious amounts of coffee and getting bossed around by a four year-old. Julianna loves romance, humor and football.

  Connect with Me!

  @julianna_marley

  Julianna-Marley-Author

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14833785.Julianna_Marley

  juliannamarley@icloud.com