Overtime (Playing The Field Book 1)

by Rebecca Barber

  With the party only an hour away, my house looked like a unicorn had thrown up in there. Everything was covered in pink and purple and glitter. I had no idea how I was supposed to get the glitter out of my carpet once this was over, but I’d deal with that later. Right now, I had to calm Elise down before she gave herself a heart attack.

  “It’s ruined!” she cried as she stared down at the cake on the bench.

  Somehow, it’d got knocked and now one of the unicorn’s eyes was an inch lower than the other.

  “It’s not ruined. It’s fine. She won’t even notice,” I attempted to reassure her, pinning the last of the streamers up, rounding the corner and stepping in behind her.

  “I’ll notice,” she whined.

  The devastation on her face was heartbreaking. She’d worked so hard to make today perfect, she couldn’t see that no matter what the cake looked like, it was a success. “I’m sure it will taste delicious.”

  Spinning her around, my hands rested on her hips. “Thank you for doing this, Elise.”

  “Yes, thank you, Elise,” Sienna said loudly as she made her presence known, ruining my chance of a quickie.

  Princess Phoebe came barrelling towards me, almost knocking me off my feet. “Happy birthday, Princess.” I greeted her blowing a raspberry on her cheek and earning me a fit of giggles.

  For the next hour, I escaped out to the veranda, leaned back and enjoyed a beer with my dad and brother’s-in-law. Proud father Josh didn’t once take his eyes off Ari and their new son Connor who were sitting quietly in the corner. Apparently, I’d missed all the drama of her water breaking in the grandstand, not that I was sorry about it, but thankfully everyone was happy and healthy.

  Inside, Jax had been bribed, not that I think it was very hard. He was on his knees, his hair full of glitter, and a sleep mask covering his eyes, surrounded by squawking three-year-old girls playing pin the horn on the unicorn.

  Elise hadn’t stopped. She flitted from person to person, offering them food and refilling their drinks. When I’d offered to help, she’d shooed me away and told me to relax and enjoy it. Now she was in the kitchen, poking candles into the cake.

  Crying started and everyone froze. I was the first to see Phoebe lying face down on the tiles, her chocolate crackle smashed in her hand. Hunter handed me his beer and made a beeline towards his screaming daughter. It was her party and she was going to cry if she wanted to. Or howl, as the case may be.

  Scooping her up in one motion, he settled her in his arms. She didn’t have a scratch on her. It was probably more a reaction than anything.

  “What’s wrong, Princess?” he asked gently. “Where did you hurt?”

  He was fascinating. Hunter could be an intimidating beast when he wanted to be, but Phoebe had him wrapped around her little finger.

  Her bottom lip trembled as fat tears dripped from her chubby cheeks. She pointed to her hands, and Hunter dusted them off before kissing each palm. “Better now?”

  Phoebe nodded and wriggled in his arms. Hunter set her down carefully and watched as she scampered off towards the kitchen.

  “Aunty Elise?”

  Elise’s eyes shot to mine. We’d never talked about her being an aunty or being called that, and I think Phoebe caught her off guard. Offering her a casual shrug, I couldn’t help but smile. She might not be an aunty right now, but that was just a technicality. One I knew I’d rectify when the time was right.

  “Yes, Phoebe?” Elise asked, squatting down to meet her eye level. It was no wonder she was a teacher. She was a natural with kids.

  “You forgot to give me a cuddle,” Phoebe complained, her bottom lip trembling again.

  Elise’s beautiful face cracked. It was like Phoebe’s words completely destroyed her. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, sweeping Phoebe off her feet and into her arms before hugging her tightly.

  When Dad clapped his hand on my shoulder, I was forced to look away from my girls. “She’s a keeper,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  “I know.”

  After Phoebe was satisfied, Elise finished organising the cake before summoning Sienna and Hunter over to light the candles and lead the singing. She’d done all the work but was stepping into the shadows for the big moment.

  Leaving them to argue over whether or not they should give their daughter a knife, Elise herded everyone into the lounge room. Somehow, I managed to snag a chair in the corner and immediately dragged Elise into my lap. She’d been in my house all day, and I hadn’t managed to get my hands on her. Something that needed to be rectified, and I couldn’t wait any longer.

  Hunter carried Phoebe, while Sienna carried the cake in and sat it down on the coffee table. Kids crawled closer. Mum was hovering with her oversized camera, the flash almost blinding everyone. She still hadn’t accepted that her phone would take just as good a photo, but it was a fight we’d given up on.

  The singing started and it was loud and off key and perfect. After Sienna led the cheers, Hunter handed Phoebe a knife and helped her slice into the unicorn’s face.

  Elise went to scramble out of my lap, but I tightened my arms around her waist.

  “I need to help,” she said.

  “No, you don’t. They’ve got this. You’re staying right where you are.”

  I’d fully expected her to keep arguing, but instead she sank against me, burrowing her head in the crook of my neck. Sienna handed Elise a piece of cake that looked delicious. Stabbing it with her fork, she moaned as she chewed, making my cock twitch. The last thing I needed was to be walking around a kids’ party sporting a woody.

  “So good!” she mumbled around another mouthful. “Have some.” Elise aeroplaned the fork towards my mouth, crumbs falling on us both. As I wrapped my lips around the fork, she pulled it back before kissing me quickly. She was right, it was fucking delicious.

  If this is what life after football looked like, then bring it on.

  Epilogue – Elise

  Sitting on the beach, I dug my toes into the hot white sand while my eyes tracked Luca’s every move. For someone who’d spent most of his life as an athlete, water sports were really not his thing. Behind him a wave rolled in, and he paddled as fast as he could, trying to latch on before springing to his feet.

  He did it this time.

  He was standing on the board for at least seven seconds before he wobbled and toppled backwards with a splash.

  Lifting my hand to shield my eyes further from the sun, I held my breath until his head popped back up above the breakers. When he reappeared, he shook his head like a dog, and I sighed with relief.

  We’d been living only a block away from the beach for the past three weeks, and Luca was on a mission to learn to surf. And with as good as he looked in his low-slung, purple board shorts, I wasn’t about to discourage him.

  School started tomorrow, and I was already anxious. Starting a new school was less than ideal, but in the end, it was the best thing for me. For us. After everything that happened with Corey last year, it’d become so uncomfortable and awkward to even teach in the same school, and I knew one of us had to go. So, when Luca was offered a coaching position on the Northern Beaches of Sydney, I started looking for a school to transfer to. Even if I hadn’t gotten lucky and found a school looking for a replacement teacher, I would’ve made him take it.

  When Luca retired from football, he’d lasted about two weeks until he started to lose the plot. Idly sitting around definitely wasn’t his thing. When I’d arrived at his place one afternoon to find he’d put in a vegetable patch and shifted all the furniture from one room preparing to paint the walls, I knew he was only days from losing his mind. It’d taken some convincing, but eventually he’d called around his contacts and within three weeks a contract was signed and a press conference convened.

  Before the ink was even dry on his contract, he was already talking about living arrangements. There was definitely not anything slow about the way he was moving now the spring was back in his step. When he’d first
raised the idea of living together, I laughed it off. We were lying on the rug in the middle of his lounge room, completely naked and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It took three weeks of hints and comments before I finally realised he was being serious.

  After dinner one night, we were sitting at the kitchen bench. Me sipping a glass of wine and Luca nursing a beer. It was so simple, so domestic, so natural. When he’d come straight out and asked me to move in with him, I was still a bit caught off guard.

  “You want me to move in here?” I’d tried to confirm, looking around the house.

  It was a nice house. It had everything someone should want.

  It just wasn’t us.

  It was too big. Too bland and, despite his sister’s best efforts, it’d never felt like a home.

  “Actually, I was thinking of putting this place on the market and finding something else. Something we both like.”

  “And you want me to move in with you?”

  “Fuck yeah, I do. I love waking up with you every morning and going to bed with you every night. I love that you leave your coffee cup in the sink rather than put it in the dishwasher. I love that my bathroom cabinets are filled with your girly crap. I want you with me in our house.”

  Well how the fuck was a girl supposed to say no to that?

  You don’t. You smile. You kiss him. You put your own apartment on the market and pack your shit into boxes and agree to cohabitate.

  Now here I was, sitting in the sand watching him pretend he was the next Kelly Slater, while I admired my engagement ring in the afternoon sunlight. It’d been Christmas Eve. I’d eaten way too much, which wasn’t really a surprise considering we were at his mother’s. Damn that woman could cook.

  When we’d arrived home, I’d waddled through the house and collapsed on the lounge, thanking God for my maxi dress. While I was almost wetting myself at National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Luca was fidgeting around the house. He’d checked all the presents had been pulled out of the cupboard and were stacked under the tree. He’d checked the fridge, making sure there was enough beer already cold. With all the fussing, he had been driving me insane. I’d snapped at him and told him to sit his arse down and watch with me or go for a swim.

  He’d stomped off down the hallway, and I’d assumed he was going to get changed and jump in the pool, so when he’d reappeared a minute later and dropped to one knee, I’d almost swallowed my tongue.

  Now here we were; new jobs, new house, and planning a wedding. And tomorrow our new temporary roommate would arrive. Seth Masters was the new rookie striker on Luca’s team and our new housemate.

  Life was good.

  The End

  Can’t get enough?

  Well not to worry, the team won’t let you down. Seth Master’s is waiting to meet you in…

  On paper, Seth Masters had it all.

  The multi-million-dollar contract to play the sport he loved, the looks to bring the ladies and the dedication to his goals. It was his time to shine. The problem was, he’d forgotten how to play the beautiful game.

  Kicking a ball was easy at seven. Making a tackle was child’s play at twelve. Scoring a goal was a piece of cake at eighteen. But now it was his career on the line and he’d lost his mojo.

  Claire Hayes was trying.

  Everything she had; she’d worked her butt off for.

  Living in a share house with her older brother and three of his mates, wasn’t the life she’d dreamt of, but it got her out of the small town she was desperate to escape.

  What Claire was not prepared for was how the simple act of heroism, rescuing a surfer from the water early one morning, to change her entire world.

  Her carefully planned; simple life had just altered forever.

  Also by Rebecca

  Standalones

  Shattered Dreams

  Broken Promises

  Playing Games

  Marked

  Played

  Benched

  Playing the Field Series

  Overtime

  Rookie

  Offside

  Playing The Field Series

  Finding Your Place Series

  Coming Home

  Running Away

  Believing Again

  Meet the McIntyres Series

  Taking Charge

  Picturing Perfect

  Fighting Back

  Breaking Free

  Finding Forever

  A Merry McIntyre Christmas

  Meet the McIntyres Boxset

  First and foremost, thanks to you – my readers. Without you, I wouldn’t get to ride this crazy train and chase my dreams. Even though you probably don’t hear it enough, I appreciate you more than words can say!

  To Kathryn – thank you for your unwavering support, loyalty, love and patience as we’ve tried to figure this out together. We didn’t always get it right, but we keep trying and I’m truly grateful that you haven’t given up on me yet!

  Margaret and Marnie – you ladies are my team! Without your demands, tantrums and own unique ways of encouragement, my writing would be much, much slower and these books, probably stashed away with the other, never to be seen scribblings hidden in the bottom of my cupboard.

  To my Bellas – you ladies rock! Seriously! I love how you love my characters as much as I do and that you fall in love with them, call dibs on them or hate them as fiercely as if they were real.

  To my family, thank you for always believing in me. For many, many years, you’ve known this is what I wanted to do and not once, okay, maybe once or twice, did you judge me for listening to the voices inside my head. Thank you for always having my back and supporting me all the way.

  Finally, Rob. You’re you. Unapologetically, you. And even though sometimes that shits me to tears (BIFC), you’ve always got my back, demanding that I speak up and get everything I deserve. You’re always on my team and for that, I’ll always be grateful! #TeamWard

  Love Always

  Rebecca xoxo

  About the Author

  Rebecca is a clumsy, introverted, bubble bath loving, chocoholic who'd rather read a book than go shopping. And don't even mention shoe shopping!

  Rebecca is a lucky girl - one of four kids to schoolteacher parents. Wife to a football obsessed husband. Aunt to the most crazy/adorable little girls. And sister to two very determined sisters and one easy going brother.

  Rebecca lives in Canberra Australia and spends way too many hours a day working the day job.

  She is a book whore who can easily (and happily) read a book from start to finish in one sitting and spends her spare time writing.

  Stay Connected with Rebecca

  Website:

  www.rebeccabarberauthor.com

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  Barber’s Bellas

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  @RebeccaBarber7

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  @RebeccaBarber7