LOVING HARD
A Chesapeake Blades Hockey Novel
Book 2
Lisa B. Kamps
LOVING HARD
Copyright © 2018 by Elizabeth Belbot Kamps
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.
The Chesapeake Blades™ is a fictional semi-professional ice hockey team, its name and logo created for the sole use of the author and covered under protection of trademark.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names, living or dead. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any individual, place, business, or event is purely coincidental.
Artwork and Cover Design by Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art
http://www.simplydefinedart.com/
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Other titles by this author
Author's Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Author's Note
PLAYING THE GAME preview
About the author
Other titles by this author
For Jami Davenport and Kate Willoughby
Thanks for the friendship, laughter, insight, and late-night chats.
Let the meeting begin…!
Other titles by this author:
THE BALTIMORE BANNERS
Crossing the Line, Book 1
Game Over, Book 2
Blue Ribbon Summer, Book 3
Body Check, Book 4
Break Away, Book 5
Playmaker, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella
Delay of Game, Book 6
Shoot Out, Book 7
The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy
Books 1-3 Boxed set
The Baltimore Banners: 2nd Period Trilogy
Books 4-6 Boxed set
On Thin Ice, Book 8
Coach's Challenge, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella
One-Timer, Book 9
Face Off, Book 10
First Shot At Love, A Baltimore Banners Short Story
Game Misconduct, Book 11
Fighting To Score, Book 12
Matching Penalties, Book 13
THE YORK BOMBERS
Playing The Game, Book 1
Playing To Win, Book 2
Playing For Keeps, Book 3
Playing It Up, Book 4
Playing It Safe, Book 5
Playing For Love, Book 6
Playing His Part, Book 7
THE CHESAPEAKE BLADES
Winning Hard, Book 1
Loving Hard, Book 2
Playing Hard, Book 3
FIREHOUSE FOURTEEN
Once Burned, Book 1
Playing With Fire, Book 2
Breaking Protocol, Book 3
Into the Flames, Book 4
Second Alarm, Book 5
Feel The Burn, Book 6
Coming Soon
STAND-ALONE TITLES
Emeralds and Gold: A Treasury of Irish Short Stories (anthology)
Finding Dr. Right
Time To Heal
Dangerous Passion
Dangerous Heat
Illicit Affair
Coming Soon
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Dear Reader:
Welcome to the second book of The Chesapeake Blades!
If you read the first book, you'll realize that Sammie's story is a little different from Taylor's and she's dealing with some issues of her own. Yes, the issues with fighting to find a place of their own in the sports world still exists, but the larger focus for this book has shifted a little.
Sammie is a single mother juggling the obligations of a full-time job in addition to playing hockey. And, like a lot of mothers out there, she worries that her young daughter is paying the price of her busy schedule. But with help from her friends—and support from a surprising source—her struggles become a little easier to deal with.
I hope you enjoy meeting the ladies of The Blades, and that you cry and cheer with them on their journey. Shannon's story is next, and I'm so excited to get started on it—I have a feeling she might surprise all of us!
If you're interested in learning more about the NWHL, please check out their website!
Happy Reading!
LBK
#FightLikeAGirl
#PlayLikeAGirl
Prologue
Air, dry and acrid, filled Jonathan Reigler's lungs with each breath he sucked in through his clenched teeth. He tightened his grip on the rifle and looked over the shoulder of the man sitting in front of him.
He couldn't meet his eyes. If he did, the man would see what this was costing him.
What the last few months had already cost him.
Loud bursts of gunfire, shattering the silence of the desert.
Screams and cries as bullets ripped into flesh.
Blood, dark and red, saturating the sand beneath his feet.
An outstretched hand, the palms scratched and caked with dirt. Lifeless fingers reaching across the desert floor, stretching toward the switch that would kill them all.
Dark eyes, opened to the searing sun beating above them, the sightless eyes focused on something nobody else could see.
The face, young and unlined, the skin oddly perfect, marred only by the blood seeping from the boy's mouth.
A boy. A fucking kid. No more than ten or eleven. Lifeless.
Because of Jonathan.
The boy wasn't the first one. Far from it. Jonathan feared he wouldn't be the last. But there was something about this body, something about this last mission that—
He sucked in another breath, the sound no more than a hiss in the stuffy air of the closed tent. Ignore it. Ignore the image, ignore the memories.
Forget everything.
Just…forget.
The man across from him finally looked away, his gaze shifting to the papers scattered on the dusty surface of the desk in front of him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I don't have a choice." He thought he had, all those months ago. Thought he'd be able to separate the two lives he'd been living. The two men he'd become. But he couldn't. Not anymore.
He blinked away the image of wide brown eyes, shining with laughter. Pushed away the ghost-memory of warm hands caressing his body. Made himself forget the soft words whispered with a warm breath against his ear.
I love you, Jon. We'll be waiting for you.
Ignored the pain that ripped through him when the memories shattered what was left of his soul.
Jonathan cleared his throat and repeated the words. "I don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice."
"No, sir. Not in this. Not anymore."
The older man sighed, the sound filled with weariness. He grabbed a pen, scrawled something on the bottom line of a ragged sheet of paper, then held the pen out to Jonathan.
"You don't have to do this, Sergeant. You're still her husband."
Jonathan grabbed the pen, his fingers tightening around it for the briefest second before he scrawled his signature on the paper that would completely sever the man he'd been from the man he'd become.
Her husband?
Maybe. Once upon a time. But not now. Not anymore.
Now, he was a monster.
Chapter One
Two Years Later
Sweat dripped from her face and hit the ice, evaporating in an unnoticed wisp of steam. Sammie bit down on the mouth guard and leaned forward, her legs pumping as the blades of her skates tore across the ice.
Shouts—yells and screams of encouragement—disappeared in the rush of blood that echoed in her ears. Push. Harder. Faster.
She closed in on the player from Richmond. Closer. Closer still. But it wasn't close enough, the other woman was going to score—
Not if she had anything to do with it.
Sammie gave one final push and hurled her body through the air with a loud grunt, blocking the puck before it could reach the net. She heard a sharp thud and felt her flesh sting as the puck connected with her jaw just before her body crashed to the ice. Silence and then the sound of a horn splitting the air, accompanied by cheers and applause.
Holy crappola, that hurt. That really hurt. She rolled to her side and pushed up on one elbow as she looked around. Shannon Wiley, their goalie, was racing from the net, a broad smile on her flushed face. And here came Taylor LeBlanc and Dani Baldwin, two of her teammates. They were wearing the same goofy smiles on their faces as they slid to a stop next to her, spraying her with snow. Hands grabbed her, clapping her on the back and helping her from the ice all at the same time. Sammie nodded, shook her head once, then almost stumbled before she regained her balance.
Ouch. Yeah. That was definitely going to leave a mark.
But it was worth it. She stopped that last shot. The Blades won.
"Way to go, Reigler."
"Holy fucking shit, Sammie. You were airborne." Shannon leaned forward and butted her helmet against Sammie's, then patted her on the shoulder so hard, Sammie stumbled again. "Totally airborne. It was abso-fucking-lutely beautiful."
They moved back to the bench as one, all six of them: Sammie and Shannon and Taylor and Dani. Sydney Stevens and Stephanie Mason. All talking at once, drowning out Coach Reynolds's congratulations as they headed off the ice.
Sammie rubbed her jaw and looked around, her gaze coming to a rest on the guy who had been filming the game. "Do you think he caught it on camera?"
"Yeah. Sure. He must have, right?"
"And if he didn't, I'm sure someone did. I'll ask Chuckie later tonight."
Sammie nodded and pushed her way into the locker room with everyone else, the noise of their excited conversation louder in the small room. Everyone was still talking all at once, their excitement at winning another game a living, breathing thing.
Sammie accepted more congratulations then headed over to the bench and started pulling off her gear: helmet, jersey, pads, skates, shorts. She folded everything and neatly placed the equipment in her gear bag, then leaned back on the bench to stretch. Taylor dropped down beside her and leaned forward, her brows lowered over eyes the color of whiskey.
"Look up."
"What?"
"You heard me. Look up." Taylor nudged Sammie's chin with the tip of two fingers. "Yup, thought so. You need a bandage or something."
"I do?"
"Yeah. You're bleeding."
Sammie brushed at her chin then looked down at the blood smeared on her fingertips. "Is it bad?"
"Not too bad. You don't need stitches or anything. Maybe an ice pack, though, because it's already swelling and bruising."
"Yeah?" Sammie tried to stop the smile threatening to break free but failed. Her first real game-related injury. Wasn't that something to be proud of? She reached behind her and pulled the phone from her bag, then tossed it to Taylor. "Here, take a picture."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously. I need to have a picture of this and I'm the worst at selfies."
Taylor rolled her eyes but snapped a couple of quick shots. "There. Happy?"
"Yes. I know it's not a big deal to you, but this is a first for me. I need to savor the moment."
"You're such a dork."
"But I'm an adorable dork." Sammie tossed the phone back in her bag then grabbed her toiletries kit and headed for the shower room.
"You're something, alright." Taylor nudged her then headed into one of the showers.
The teasing didn't stop, not even after Sammie had finished with her own shower before receiving a butterfly bandage and an ice pack before piling out of the small rink that served as their home arena. The team was heading to The Ale House, like they did after every game the Blades played at home.
After every game? Sammie laughed to herself. This was only their fifth game, in their very first season of the not-quite-semi-pro league. It still didn't feel real, despite the scrapes and bruises and her now-throbbing chin and jaw.
She had seen the notice about try-outs for the new women's hockey league eight months ago—and had nearly ignored it. A women's hockey league? She didn't stand a chance, not when her only experience had been playing in a beer league a few years ago, in a different lifetime. She didn't have anything to offer, not like the other women she was sure would be trying out. She was short and petite. A single mother. A kindergarten teacher, for crying out loud. What could she possibly offer? What made her think she could even compete?
But the idea, once planted, wouldn't leave her. So she dug out her skates and had them sharpened, then spent several entire weekends on the ice during the public skating sessions at a rink thirty minutes away from her parents' house.
Wondering if it would be enough.
Knowing it wasn't even close to being enough.
It had been thoughts of her daughter that had followed her to the rink that morning when she went to try out. Clare, who'd had her entire life turned upside down more than two years ago. It didn't matter that she wouldn't remember, not the details, anyway. Clare was only three now. A happy, well-adjusted, handful that Sammie treasured more than anything else in the world. But she wanted more for Clare—what parent didn't? She wanted her daughter to see that women could do anything they wanted, that they didn't need a man in their lives to make them complete.
Sammie wanted to be the example her daughter could look up to.
And, by some small miracle that Sammie still didn't understand, she'd been offered a spot on the team—and a contract. No, it wasn't much, barely a couple of hundred dollars per game, money that scarcely covered the cost of equipment and practices and time away from home for their road games.
But it was something. Sammie could proudly tell everyone that she was a professional hockey player—kind of. And she had new friends—family, really. Women just like her, trying to prove to the world that they could do anything they wanted, and do it better than anyone expected.
She still couldn't believe she had nearly thrown
it all away. Not just her—all of them. The entire team. They had all been prepared to quit yesterday, when they'd had a showdown of sorts with the owner.
Only time would tell if anything they'd said would make a difference, but Sammie thought it might.
And holy crappola, Sammie still couldn't believe they'd done it, confronted the owner that way. That she'd done it. It shouldn't be so hard to believe, not really. She was a different person than she'd been two years ago—her daughter's life wasn't the only one that had been turned upside down.
But that was a long time ago. She needed to keep her promise to herself and not look back, needed to keep focusing forward. And for the most part, she could. It helped having family.
And friends.
Even if those friends were a little on the crazy side. Like Shannon, who once again was standing on the chair. She paused, whipped the long blonde hair from her face, then looked down at Sammie with a wide grin.
"To the D-man who made a brilliant save! Just don't get any ideas about taking over my job, Short Stuff."
The women around her laughed and cheered, raising their glasses in a toast. Sammie did the same, taking a small sip of her soda just as Shannon yelled "Heads-up."
Sammie looked up, saw a flash of black heading her way, and managed to get her hand up just in time to deflect it. The puck bounced off her wrist and rolled across the table before coming to a stop against a pitcher of beer. Shannon shook her head then jumped off the chair and reached for the puck. "Okay, I take it back. I don't have to worry about you taking over my job."
"It's not like I was expecting you to throw something at me. What is it, anyway?"
"The game puck. Duh." Shannon tossed it through the air again, an easy lob that Sammie caught this time. She stared down at it as a lump of emotion formed in her throat.
"The game puck? Really? For me?"
"Oh for fuck's sake, Reigs. Don't go getting all emotional or anything, okay?"
"I'm not." Sammie's denial only caused her teammates to laugh, which made the lump in her throat grow bigger. She blinked against the sudden burning in her eyes and reached for her soda, hoping nobody would notice the way her eyes were watering. They did, of course. She held her breath, waiting for the teasing to start again, but it didn't come.
Loving Hard: A Chesapeake Blades Hockey Romance (The Chesapeake Blades Book 2) Page 1