For the Win

by Sara Rider

  Lainey swallowed her doubts. “I’m sure.”

  “Good. No one messes with my hot date and gets away with it.”

  Jaime looked at her jersey with a bored expression and tossed it onto the floor. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m not wearing that home. Fuck it. I’ll see you all tomorrow bright and early.” Wearing only a black sports bra, matching boy-cut panties, and a pair of rhinestone encrusted flip-flops, she pushed the heavy change room door open and walked out.

  A split second later, she rushed back in, a red flush on her cheeks and the rapid-fire flash of cameras peeking through the door as it swung open and shut. “Never mind,” Jaime mumbled.

  “Shit, I forgot I said I’d announce the details of the fund-raiser to the press after today’s practice.” Lainey inhaled and closed her eyes, steeling up her courage. She exhaled and threw on the damn jersey, which at the very least afforded a tiny bit of modesty given that it hung down to her mid-thigh. “I’ll distract the reporters while the rest of you slip out.”

  Silently cursing Gabe’s name, Lainey pushed open the door and faced the handful of reporters awaiting her.

  “Tomorrow morning, at six a.m.—yes, I said six a.m.—the Falcons will unveil our fund-raising event for the Battle of the Sexes.” She spoke fast and confidently, knowing that once the reporters’ questioning began, she’d never get a word in edgewise. She quickly spouted off the address, and then waited for the onslaught.

  “Ms. Lukas, why are you wearing a Surge uniform and no pants? Does this mean the Falcons are already conceding defeat?”

  “No, it’s a common tradition for athletes to sleep in their rivals’ jerseys as a way to pay respects before kicking their asses.”

  “Nice answer, Captain,” Jaime whispered, having just come through the change room door to stand at Lainey’s side.

  “What are you doing here?” Lainey whispered back.

  “I’m your cocaptain. I couldn’t just throw you to the wolves,” Jaime answered, wrapping her arm around Lainey’s waist.

  “Wish I’d thought of that,” Lainey added, pointing to the inside-out Surge jersey Jaime wore. With her short stature, the jersey hung well past her knees.

  “We can’t all be geniuses.”

  Mean Jim Green interrupted their banter. “Ms. Lukas, is it true that you and Gabe Havelak are sleeping together?”

  Lainey’s stomach dropped. She sputtered, searching for the right answer to put this asshole in his place, but anger kept swallowing her words.

  “No,” Jaime interceded. “She’s sleeping with me.”

  Without missing a beat, she reached behind Lainey’s neck, tugged her down, and planted a sloppy kiss on her.

  “Now, if you want to hear more, you can show up tomorrow. Like Lainey said, the fun starts at six a.m. sharp.”

  RAGE WAS SUCH A nice, uncomplicated emotion, Lainey mused as she strolled toward the desolate parking lot of Chester Stadium in fifty-two-degree weather wearing nothing but a Surge uniform. Rage was clean, crisp, and sharpened all of her senses, unlike the tangle of blackness that threatened to drown her from the inside each time she thought about her feelings for Gabe. Unrequited love was a bitch. And so was her car’s transmission, which had blown a few days ago, explaining her rage.

  She’d forgotten to ask her teammates for a ride home after practice, and they’d all taken off before Lainey had finished with the mini press conference. After Jaime’s stunt, she’d actually managed to get the reporters to shut up and listen to her announcement. It wasn’t her preferred strategy but she was willing to be open-minded if it got her results.

  A gust of wind hit her skin, stinging her bare, pink, goose bump–covered thighs. She contemplated calling Uncle Walt for a ride, but that would mean pulling him away from a job site in crappy weather when his workers needed him most. Besides, she was already taking advantage of his overly generous soul this week. Her aunt was at her book club. That left her with her original option of taking the bus.

  She trudged through the parking lot toward the bustle of Pike Street, where she could catch a direct bus home, the sound of her Adidas sandals slapping the concrete filling the chilly air. Out of nowhere, a red Porsche pulled up beside her. With a steadying hand on the roof, Lainey leaned into the open window.

  “Are you here to rescue me or to gloat?”

  “A bit of both,” Gabe replied, flashing his megawatt grin. Lainey walked to the passenger side of the car and got in. The moment she was close enough to touch him, her nerves were set ablaze, scorching their way through every limb. She was angry as hell with him for breaking her heart, but the torrent of rage building inside was impossible to distinguish from the sexual energy that normally consumed her when she was in his presence.

  “To hell with it,” she muttered before pulling him into a deep kiss. One he was more than happy to return. He slid his hand up to her jaw, taking control of the kiss. He slipped his tongue along hers and her heart shuddered. She was falling under his spell once more.

  She pushed him away and leaned back in her seat, trying her damnedest not to sound out of breath.

  Yep. Way better than kissing her teammate. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’m just going to pretend you’re my chauffeur.” She tried to act natural, but Gabe’s smirk was clearly set in place only to hold back his laughter.

  “Chauffeur, love slave, whatever you want, I’m it.”

  “You forgot liar and jerk.”

  “Potato, potahto. You have to admit that we got you pretty good today.”

  “Whatever, I got you better.”

  He gave her a dubious look. “Really, Lainey? Are you actually suggesting you came up with that whole ‘change the pressboards’ stunt, and the jerseys by yourself?”

  She crossed her arms and pouted. “Fine. Jaime’s the one who executed the plan. She made fast friends with the tech and security guys. I think it’s because she offered to show them her boobs. But it’s the thought that counts.”

  “If that’s true, then you’ll forgive me for being an ass. The whole reason I did this was to get you to talk to me so I could apologize.”

  “You’re saying sorry by stealing my team’s clothing?”

  “A little unorthodox, but Tessa suggested it. Did it work?”

  Lainey relaxed into her seat and laughed, realizing she’d been outsmarted by a fourteen-year-old. “It got me into your car, didn’t it?”

  “Correction. It got you into my car wearing nothing but a jersey with my number on the back. You’ve got great legs, babe.” The jersey had ridden up when she sat, exposing her bare thighs. He casually placed his hand on her leg, sending shivers rippling through her body. The way he touched her always made her feel cherished, like she was the most adored person in the world.

  Lainey tried to relax and enjoy the warm emotions filling her heart as they drove the rest of the way to her place, knowing that as soon as they arrived she’d have to face reality. She and Gabe might have a combustible connection, but they were also rivals. As long as that was the case, there was no foundation of trust in their relationship. She wanted him, but she couldn’t gamble her career on the hope that his intentions were true. Not after he’d given her every reason to doubt him.

  And yet, she did not want this car ride to end.

  He pulled up to her street and stopped at the curb in front of her apartment. Her hand lingered on the seat belt buckle as she wrestled with her desires. “What do you say we go up to your place and I’ll show you just how much I’m willing to beg for your forgiveness?” He smiled coyly, but his voice was a bit strained, as though he were uncharacteristically nervous.

  She wanted to say yes, but her self-preservation instincts were on high alert. “That’s not a good idea. I have to get ready for the fund-raiser tomorrow.”

  “I’ll help. Heck, I’ll even cut you a check for however much you w
ant if it means we can make things right between us.”

  “You’re asking me to give up on all the hard work I’ve put into this fund-raiser and let you buy your way into my pants?” The metal buckle of her seat belt whipped against the door from the force with which she unfastened it.

  “No. I’m trying to help. It’s not like there’s a lot of time to come up with a plan. We’ve been selling those calendars for almost two weeks now. We both know it’s damn near impossible to raise money in one day. Let me help you.”

  “You think I don’t have anything planned?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She hopped out of the car and marched toward her apartment without a single look back.

  21

  The Falcons are leading the score with forty-five points. The Surge are trailing at thirty. Twenty points are still up for grabs with the fund-raising challenge, but with time running out and no sign of any activity, it looks like the Falcons might be in trouble . . .

  —Grace Mallery, Channel 7 News

  “I’LL BE DAMNED,” JOE muttered, leaning against the driver’s side of his pickup truck next to Gabe, taking in the wide-open lot stretching along a new suburban block just outside of town. “It’s like spying on Santa’s elves.”

  “But hotter,” Johnny added.

  “That is what organization and teamwork look like,” Gabe said, unable to tear his eyes away from Lainey, who was standing at the base of the construction site directing her teammates with the same wicked authority she used on the field. Three separate frames in the space were ready for roofs. The foundations were already in place, and he noticed what he thought were signs of plumbing and electrical already roughed in. Not only were the Falcons busy hauling lumber and sheeting around, there was also a crew of about ten men wearing coveralls with a “Walt’s Roofing” emblem on the front, and a few more dozen men and women from some of the larger construction and renovation companies in the area. “It’s also what real competition looks like. Gentlemen, I do believe we’re about to get our asses kicked in the fund-raiser challenge.”

  When his agent called him at six a.m. and told him to haul ass to some random address in one of the city’s farthest-reaching suburbs, he wasn’t sure what to think. The Falcons were building houses for a charity helping unfortunate families in the city, and it was a brilliant idea. Who would’ve thought Lainey really did have a foolproof plan that worked on sweat equity rather than a massive media campaign? He knew better than to underestimate her, one more thing he would need to atone for, so he booked it home to pick up some work gear and called his teammates. Joe, Johnny, and Aiden showed up, ready to get their hands dirty, as did a couple of the newbies who were eager to please their captain. What really surprised him was that Zazu managed to roll out of bed at this hour. Even though the Brazilian only managed to pull on a pair of sweatpants and sneakers, not bothering to change out of his striped silk pajama top, he showed up and that was what mattered as far as Gabe was concerned.

  “Come on, men. Let’s go take orders from some hot women.” Gabe grabbed a hammer—the only tool he happened to own, because his pop had accidentally left it at his house after repairing a rotten fence post last year—and marched toward the lots where the three houses were being erected. Only when he was within five feet of her did Lainey notice him.

  “What now? A street brawl?” Lainey asked, casting a desultory glance at the hammer in Gabe’s hand. Her hands were at her hips, pose defiant and ready for confrontation.

  He bit back a grin. “That’s one possible interpretation.”

  She shrugged a single shoulder, then looked at the sledgehammer resting at her feet. “Huh. Mine’s bigger.”

  This time, he really did laugh. “I know the cost of houses in this area, and I know when to concede defeat. We’re just here to help.” She raised an eyebrow. He gave her his most disarming smile. “I’m serious. Put us to work.”

  And that’s exactly what she did. Like a general leading her army, she divvied Gabe and his buddies up, sending them to report to the various team leaders organizing the construction, who worked them over like dogs for the rest of the day. Gabe carried wood, glass, vinyl, and every other material for hours, trying to earn forgiveness from Lainey with every grueling minute of hefting, hauling, and hoisting. For the most part, she seemed oblivious to him amid the flurry of activity. Gabe wasn’t worried. Lainey might be capable of extreme determination, but he was a man of exceeding patience. He knew how to play the long game, and eventually they’d have the conversation they needed to have.

  Late afternoon, the crews took a lunch break. Lainey’s aunt distributed bologna sandwiches and bottles of water to the volunteers from a bunch of coolers in the back of a van. Gabe graciously accepted a sandwich and plopped on the grass to eat it. It wasn’t the most flavorful thing he had ever tasted, but it hit the spot.

  A long, dark shadow loomed over him as he ate. “Tasty sandwich?”

  Gabe looked up to see Lainey’s uncle Walt standing in front of him, his craggy face giving no hints as to his mood. In fact, Gabe hadn’t seen the man crack a single smile all morning except for when he’d been speaking with Lainey and somehow managed to make her laugh. “The best, sir.”

  Walt tipped his head. “It’s the sprouts. Wife says it’s her secret trick.”

  “Ah . . . yum?” It had been more than half his lifetime ago since Gabe had been intimidated by the father figure of the girl he wanted to date, but this man had the aura of a resurrected John Wayne and was currently pointing a loaded nail gun at his crotch.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  A trickle of sweat slid along his hairline. He was more than a little freaked out by the fact the older man had not blinked once. “You must be really proud of Lainey for pulling this off.”

  Walt nodded, still not breaking eye contact. “You know, I’m the one who taught her how to use power tools.”

  Gabe wasn’t sure if that was a question or a threat, so he just nodded.

  “A lot of people think Lainey’s a lone soldier because of how hard she pushes herself. She doesn’t ask for a lot of help. Never has. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t an army of people behind her who love her.” He rotated his wrist, shifting the yellow nail gun menacingly in his hand.

  Gabe swallowed. “I know, sir. I’m one of them.”

  A faint half smile appeared on the older man’s face. “Good to know we have an understanding.”

  Grace Mallery showed up with a small camera crew in tow just as most of the volunteers were getting back to work. Instead of joining them, Gabe hovered nearby to eavesdrop on Lainey’s announcement that she was becoming the spokeswoman for Blair’s Hardware and Homebuilding Supplies, one of the largest of its kind on the West Coast. She’d come a long way since the press conference five and a half weeks ago. Today, she looked calm and collected, completely in control of the announcement. Of course, there was a grand total of one reporter, not twenty to contend with.

  By the time the late-spring sun set, most of the volunteers had packed up and gone home. Through some miracle, the roofs were completely installed on all three houses. There was obviously still a fair bit of work needed on the interiors, but the accomplishment thus far was an impressive feat for one day’s worth of work. Gabe caught up to Lainey as she was circling around to the back of one of the houses.

  “Nicely done. Signing on for an endorsement is a bit of a one-eighty for you, though.”

  Without breaking her stride, she said, “It made sense. Blair’s Hardware agreed to foot the bill for most of the supplies in exchange for my endorsement and a couple of cheesy TV commercials. They get some good publicity out of this, and I get to put in a competitive bid for the fund-raising battle. We even rounded up enough volunteers to cover all the shifts for the next three weeks to get the houses move-in ready.”

  “How’d you swing all that?”

  “I cornered your agent at your birthd
ay party. We had a conversation, and things took off from there,” she said, picking up a few stray hand tools from the ground. To his surprise, she actually let him carry them for her when he held his hands out in offer. They continued walking in the direction of her car.

  “Impressive.”

  “I also negotiated a small fee, at Bill’s insistence, of course. Enough to cover some of my debt and get me through the summer so that I can keep volunteering with the Gabriel Havelak Pro-Stars Soccer Camp.”

  Gabe stumbled on a raised edge of the sidewalk. After a few steps, Lainey turned around and waited for him to catch up, an expression full of bemusement adorning her face.

  “Why?” he asked, unsure whether he ought to let himself believe the words.

  Lainey unlocked her Honda, grabbed the tools from Gabe, and tossed them in the trunk. “Because . . .” She paused for what felt like a century. “I’m crazy about you.”

  The tone of her voice wasn’t convincing. In fact, she sounded angry. But all he cared about were those beautiful words coming out of her mouth. “I’m crazy about you, too.”

  She put her hand up to quiet him. “This past month, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been. You make me excited to try new things. But as long as we’re in this stupid competition, I’ll never know if whatever is between us is real or part of your ruse to get me to give up our practice space. I can’t gamble my team’s focus or success on the odds you might actually care about me.”

  “I do care about you. I want to be with you.” He wanted to tell her he loved her and that nothing else in the world mattered, but that would only scare her away and blow up in his face. Though it flew in the face of all his instincts, he needed to play it slow. Let her figure out on her own that she loved him, too.

  She sighed, and with a pang in his gut, he could feel her pulling away. “I made another call yesterday. To Carson Chester.”

  “Uh, okay. Why?”

  “Because I’m not a quitter. When I want something, I go for it, and it’s time I put it all on the line once and for all. We have three days left together, and I want to know that this meant something to you. That it was real. And if it wasn’t, I want to know that, too. There’s only one way to find out for sure. I told Chester to give the practice space back to the Surge. And before you ask, my teammates are okay with it. In fact, they suggested it. The Falcons are the strongest professional female soccer team in the world right now, and it doesn’t matter where we practice.”