by Maya Hughes
Passion on the Pitch
A Contemporary Sports Romance
Maya Hughes
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Afterword
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by Maya Hughes
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is pure coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictionally.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademark, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
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For my wonderful husband, whose love and support has been made my writing possible. And a special thanks for all my friends for all of your feedback and support from beginning to end.
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1
Nursing her third tequila sunrise at a standing table, Jess scanned the bar for her friends. Jess took in the small stage opposite the bar and made a note to be out of there before the band took the stage. Thumping bass did not agree with her stomach, especially after a few drinks. While she knew that having an early arriver’s compulsion was not a trait Sam and Meg shared, she found herself checking out the people entering the bar all the same. Unlike her friends, ten minutes early was right on time in Jess’s book. Rushing, apologizing, and dealing with that sinking feeling of making someone wait—or worse, being left behind—made her the perpetual early arrival. As such, she’d learned to enjoy people watching.
After having a day that included a meeting from hell with her boss about an ongoing project, Jess pounded her first two drinks within just a few minutes. Even though the targets on the project kept changing, she was getting the work done, but the long hours were getting to her. Knowing she needed to slow way the hell down on the drinks front, Jess took small sips even though she knew it meant she might miss out on those sweet happy hour drink specials.
She was glad she was there before Sam and Meg anyway. They would most certainly be asking questions about why the hell she was slamming drinks like an undergrad, and Jess really didn’t want to talk about it.
Less talk and more action—that was Jess’s motto for the night. With no work tomorrow and a couple of drinks’ head start, Jess was looking to go a bit crazy tonight. Now she just needed her late-to-the-party wing women to make it happen. Indulging in a sugary, calorie-packed drink was probably the single factor that convinced her to come out tonight at Sam and Meg’s urging.
Unlike most people who would normally whip out their phones after thirty seconds of sitting somewhere alone, Jess found people watching was almost always fun, or at least interesting.
She spied the waitress making her way over with her third tequila sunrise as she took another small sip from her tiny cocktail straw. Just because she was slowing down didn’t mean she shouldn’t be economical with the ordering.
A tall blonde bumped the harried waitress who was carrying drinks to Jess’s high top table, sloshing all of the drinks on the tray. A few drops landed on Jess’s shoes but, to the waitress’s credit, only one drink—Jess’ tequila sunrise—ended up on the floor. Oh no, Jess thought. Poor drink. I barely knew ye. It was actually a pretty good save on the waitress’s part, considering.
“God, you stupid idiot!” the blonde snapped at the waitress, even though she didn’t have more than a few drops spilled on her. Jess grabbed a napkin and wiped off the drops on her own shoe. No biggie. The blonde, on the other hand, continued her self-righteous rant at the waitress. “Do you have any idea how close you came to getting my bag wet? It’s a fucking Birkin. If you got anything on it, you’d be paying for this bag for the rest of your life.”
Jess rolled her eyes and huffed under her breath, “Well maybe if it’s so expensive, you shouldn't let it out of the house.” The blonde turned to glare at her before turning her lizard eyes back to the poor waitress.
The waitress did her best to make things right, even though it wasn’t her fault to begin with. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get you another drink.”
The blonde curled her lip. “You better.”
Jess had had enough. “Jesus, stop being such a bitch. There’s no reason to act like that—it was an accident and she didn’t even get your bag wet. She said she was sorry.”
Jess glanced at the glass of liquid courage in her hand, then blasted the blonde before she could let loose with another round of insults at the poor waitress. “This place is packed, and navigating the crowd is hard enough without dealing with a tray full of drinks and taking other people’s crap.” I guess I’m going to find out just how far that liquid courage would take me!
“Since she can’t even serve drinks, I was only going to suggest that maybe she reevaluate her life choices,” the woman sneered.
“Here’s the thing—she can get a bit better at balancing her tray after a bump, but you’ll always be an inconsiderate bitch.”
“At least I’m not fat,” the arrogant bitch retorted. Jess smirked, then surprised herself by laughing. Hard; the complete lack of maturity and originality was hilarious coming from somebody who thought she was so much better than anybody else. She doubled over as tears streamed down her face and she struggled to catch her breath. “Seriously? Fat? Oh, you’re just a priceless gem! I got over that one in fourth grade.”
Using the nearby napkins to wipe the gleeful tears from her face, Jess composed herself and straightened back up to stare directly at the ice queen. “Now, go back to where you came from before I send you back there with your broom shoved up your ass.”
Realizing that she wasn’t going to back down, the Wicked Witch’s friends finally decided to intervene and pulled her away. Jess bent down to pick up the glass the waitress had dropped and handed it back to her.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back with your drink,” the red-faced waitress blurted out as she scurried back to the bar.
“No worries, take your time. Don’t let assholes get you down,” Jess called and gave her a ‘stay strong’ fist shake.
Jess surveyed the bar again. Sam and Meg weren’t usually this late. Checking her phone, Jess noticed two unread messages.
Sam: So
rry Jess, big case just came in I’ll be pulling an all-nighter at the firm. Have fun with Meg!
Meg: Some kind of evil alien lifeform has taken refuge in my lower intestines and I’m hoping to be able to extract myself from the toilet before New Year’s. Pray for me! Have fun with Sam!
Well shit. The one night all month when she wasn’t in comfy pajamas by 7 pm, and her friends stood her up! Maybe she should just head home. There was a new Netflix series that was just calling her name for a binge watch.
A striking man sidled up to her table and nodded toward the bitchy blonde. “Nice job handling her. She’s been a terror in this place since she arrived,” he said with a thick Irish brogue.
I cocked a brow at him. “If she’s been such a terror, why didn’t you intervene earlier?”
His emerald eyes widened and his eye brows shot up at her dig. “I make it a habit not to get into fights with women,” he said with a chuckle.
“Afraid to get beaten by a girl?” Jess took another sip of her drink through the tiny straw.
“Oh no. I’m sure I could have taken her in a duel of the wits; I was just raised never to be anything other than a gentleman to a lady.”
“Hmm, I think you just don’t want to be embarrassed when a chick hands your ass to you.”
A smile played on his lips. “Is that right?”
Jess shrugged. “I mean there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s OK. You know—strong women and all that. Don’t be afraid to get your butt kicked by a strong woman.”
“I haven’t had a butt kicking in quite a while,” he replied, playing along.
“Then you might want to keep moving buddy. I’ve got over five years of Tae Bo and Zumba under my belt. You might just end up jazzercised into a full body cast.”
His eyes twinkled with amusement at Jess’s semi-serious threat of exercise class butt-kicking.
“Well I wouldn’t want that. I quite like the ability to use all four of my limbs.”
Jess held her hands up. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Perhaps I could gain your favor by buyin’ ye a drink?”
“Sure. Just don’t think it means you’re getting into my pants,” Jess told him flatly.
Jess felt the blush creep up her neck and into her face as the hunk offered a true belly laugh. What in the hell has gotten into me? Jess pulled back from her drink and took a closer look at it, surveying it for some type of mystical sassy powers.
“I appreciate that you’re direct. That’s a deal. Drink purchase does not ensure pants-getting-into. Shall we shake on it?” he asked, reaching out his hand. Jess felt an immediate spark as they clasped their hands together. His hands were strong, slightly calloused, and gentle at the same time.
“Aedan,” he offered.
“Jess,” she responded before sliding her hand out of his. The waitress reappeared with a new drink and a deep blush. She handed Jess her tequila sunrise and barely managed to hand off the beer to Aedan without another spill. He gave her a winning smile and asked for another round when she got a chance.
After the waitress walked away, Jess asked, “So what brings you across the pond?”
“My accent, huh?”
“Yes. It’s pretty hard to miss. Must do wonders with the ladies.”
“I do all right,” Aedan said with a half-smile.
“I’m sure it’s a real panty-dropper,” Jess deadpanned. “So, who’s tonight’s prey?”
“I have my eye on someone.”
“Hmm, let me guess,” Jess tapped her finger on her chin. Her eyes surveyed the crowd. Being the people watcher /gatekeeper/fuddy duddy for her friends ensured that she was never worried about guys getting too handsy or annoying at bars. It also meant she was an expert at surveying the crowds and seeing hookups coming a mile away. It was a blessing and a curse—it was great to have such a good grasp on people, but it sucked knowing you’re never the one the guy is after.
Jess considered the available women in the crowd. “I certainly hope it’s not queen bitch over there.”
Aedan shuddered. “Definitely not. Come on. I know we just met, but I have way better taste than that.”
Jess checked out the options in the bar. It was getting pretty crowded as the happy hour crowds merged into the after-dinner drinks crew, so it was harder to get a good look.
“What about the tall blonde with the fancy ponytail?”
He shook his head again. “Not really my type.”
“OK, what about the brunette with the huge hoop earrings?”
“Nah, not for me. Might get my arm tangled up in those things and break it.”
“It’s a shame,” Jess said before taking a sip her drink. “She’s got a great rack.”
“Eh, well I can’t say she doesn’t, but it’s not like there aren’t other ladies here who have more than filled out that department,” he said with a quick glance down.
“Why, Mr. Aedan...,” she said gesturing with her hand for him to continue.
He took a nervous glance around and cleared his throat, “McConnell.”
“Why Mr. Aedan McConnell, I do believe you were checking out my sweater chickens.”
He stuttered a bit, choking on his drink. “Your what?”
Jess raised her brows at him. “My girls. My tatas. My boobs,” she laughed out pointing to her boobs.
Aedan’s face flushed bright red and Jess couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! They are two of my best assets though,” she said with a wink. She took another sip of her drink, sucking the last drops up through the straw.
“You aren’t kidding,” Aedan muttered under his breath. Jess decided to ignore the comment even though she felt her heartbeat race a bit. She continued to survey the crowd.
“OK, now back to you. Since I know you're a boob man ...,” she said surveying the crowd again “what about the brunette over there with the humongous rack?”
Aedan considered the woman in question. “I mean, that’s a bit more than I think I could handle.”
Jess imagined that the woman in the tight red lycra dress had to be wearing some kind of back brace for those things. They had to be at least a double-E and were sticking straight out. Gravity had no effect at all on those puppies.
“Well aren’t you Mr. Picky,” she said as she tried to pick out a lady that might tickle his fancy.
“More like, I know what I want,” his hand covered hers on the table, “and I dedicate myself to getting it.”
As his meaning sunk in, the bar suddenly felt about ten degrees warmer. Living life in the shadow of two beautiful older sisters and a couple of stunning college roommates, Jess was used to being overlooked so this was pretty much uncharted waters for her. Jess’s heart sped up a bit as Aedan looked at her as if she was the only woman in the room, and she tamped down the giggly girl feeling that was threatening to overcome her.
She was not the first choice, ever. She’d had one real relationship, and that didn’t end well. It only took so many instance of being immediately friend-zoned for her to learn her lesson. After several misunderstood initial conversations with men who would proceed to whisper in a conspiratorial tone about a certain girl he was eyeing, she no longer even considered that a man was interested in her. It helped her avoid that awkward conversation:
Him, in a shocked tone: “I don’t mean you.”
Jess, trying to cover her embarrassment: “Oh I know, I totally know, I didn’t think you meant me.”
Stupid! After the third or fourth time, she just kind of assumed it’s never her.
Jess gently pulled her hand away to take a sip of her drink. “So, what brings you to DC?” she asked casually.
“Visiting family,” he said taking a slug from his beer.
“Oh cool, how long are you in town for?”
“A few weeks,” he replied. “Had some time off work and my aunt’s been badgering me to come over for years. I decided now was a good time to spend some quality time with h
er and my cousins and do some sightseeing. I’ve never been to DC before, so I thought it would be a good chance to learn some American history and see all of the places that are always getting blown up in movies. I’m always traveling for work, but never get to see anything.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. My job has me going from chain hotel to chain hotel about forty percent of the year. Living out of a suitcase stinks. I’ve got all these miles saved up, but by the time I make it home, the last thing I want to do is repack my bags and go somewhere. I have promised myself that I will get out of the country this year. Renewed my passport and everything.” Jess sighed, all that time flying and never going anywhere good. “My passport expired and I didn’t get one stamp in it. I’m determined this time,” she said taking another sip of her drink.
“Have passport, will travel?” he asked, smiling. She noticed that his smile went all the way to his eyes, unlike all those guys who talked her up in an effort to get in with her sisters or friends. Her heart flipped.
“Absolutely,” she nodded. “and I only have seven more months to make it happen.”
2
Aedan was drawn to Jess from the moment she shut down that obnoxious harpie with the bag. He liked a woman with spunk. He’d popped into the pub for a pint during his wander around DC and found himself captivated by the woman in the blue dress. Initially, she seemed to be trying to fade into the background, but then he noticed she was watching everyone around her. A fellow people-watcher.
Soaking in the ambience of the pub, Aedan couldn’t keep his eyes off her; the cornflower-blue dress hugged her lithe figure, and her riotous brown curls hinted at an adventurous spirit. He noticed no one joined her and wondered if she was there on her own, or just waiting for lucky guy. As he was about to make his approach, the drink-spill smack-down commenced.
He had to admit, the fire she exhibited had taken him completely by surprise and turned him on something fierce. A woman who stuck up for someone being given the shaft by a complete arse, then shut down that arse down with such flare—now there was a woman after his own heart.