Tackling Love: A Sports Romance (Tackling Romance Series Book 1)

by Kathleen Kelly

  So, with a growl, I force all thoughts of Skye out of my head.

  There are fifteen minutes left in the game. I’m bloody and bruised, and we are down by six points.

  “For fuck’s sake, Anders, get your fucking head in the game,” one of my teammates loud whispers as we huddle in a circle.

  “If you fuckers would actually block their guys, so I could throw the fucking ball, this wouldn’t be an issue,” I growl back.

  Gray straightens, grabs my faceguard, and looks me in the eyes. “She’s leaving. Tonight. She’s on a plane to England, and it leaves two hours after the game. So get the woman out of your damn head. We need to win this game, Colt.” Gray smashes his helmet into mine. “New. England. Warriors!”

  The guys cheer, and we run back to our positions.

  Skye is leaving.

  My heart feels heavy.

  I look around the stadium, fans on both sides are going crazy. I look at my teammates and know I have to do better. I rub my chest and nod repeatedly to myself, take in a deep breath and call out the plays. The ball is in my hands, and I throw it just as they break through our defenses and pile on top of me.

  Thirteen minutes left in the game.

  Gray appears, holding out a hand, and I get to my feet.

  He slaps the side of my helmet. “Make this… and it’s the sky’s the limit, baby. Nothing but champagne and roses. Sky’s the limit!” He jogs back to his position.

  Sky’s the limit.

  Skye’s the limit.

  I need to go get my girl.

  I call out the plays, the ball is in my hands, I throw, Jordane catches it, but is quickly tackled. We move forward ten feet, crawling our way toward the end zone.

  Nine minutes left in the game.

  Again, I call out the plays, and again the ball is in my hands. No one is clear, so I tuck it under my arm and run. My legs are pumping as I give it my all, running toward the line. There’s someone at my back. If he tackles me, we’re finished. I hear a growl and grunt but don’t stop, I keep going, increasing my speed, my legs burning.

  I cross the line.

  The stadium erupts in cheers.

  Holding the ball high in the air, I turn around. Gray is on the ground lying next to the other team’s man. He flips and stands, one fist in the air, the other hand pointing at me.

  We are tied.

  Four minutes left in the game.

  We reassemble. All we need to do is kick the ball through the goalposts, and we’ve won. Breathing out, I release all of the air in my lungs. There’s nothing left for me to do, it’s all up to Roman. Taking a breath, I watch as he runs toward the ball, his foot makes contact with it, and I know before it even reaches its destination, it’s gold. The crowd cheers, the whistle sounds, my teammates surround me.

  We’ve won.

  The New England Warriors are going to the Super Bowl.

  I rip off my helmet and charge through the chaos. Running toward the parking lot, I realize I don’t have my keys or my wallet, and I’m still in my uniform. I spot a car leaving, so I run toward it.

  The driver sees me and stops. “Colt Anders?”

  Inside the car is a husband and wife and two young boys all dressed in the New England Warrior jerseys.

  “Yes, sir. I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  “I need a lift to the airport. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  “Get in.”

  Opening the car door, the two boys scoot over as I sit on the seat then the dad drives away.

  “You didn’t stay for the end of the game?” I ask.

  The youngest of the two boys look at me. “You were losing.”

  I grin broadly at him. “We won.”

  “What?” erupts the family in unison.

  “Yeah, I scored a touchdown, then Roman kicked a field goal.”

  The wife slaps the husband on the top of his arm. “We missed it! All because you wanted to get out of the parking lot early.”

  “Yes, dear.” The man points over his shoulder at me. “And if we hadn’t, Colt Anders wouldn’t be sitting in our car right now.”

  The woman narrows her gaze, then looks at me and smiles. “I’m Jeanette Ruthven, this is my husband, Roy, and our two boys, Tom and Jack.”

  “Nice to meet you all.”

  “Colt, could you sign my ball?” asks Jack, the younger one.

  “Sure, buddy.”

  I’m signing the ball when Roy asks, “Which airport are we going to Colt?”

  “The Boston International Airport… I have to stop my girl from getting on a plane.”

  “You have a girlfriend?” asks Jeanette.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I frown at her. “Well, sort of. If I don’t make the flight, and she leaves for the UK, I may not have one.”

  Jeanette again slaps Roy’s arm. “You heard the man, Roy, step on it!”

  “Yeah, Dad,” chimes in Jack.

  Tom pulls a face and whispers, “Gross.”

  The Ruthven’s pull up in the drop-off zone at the international airport.

  “Thank you so much. I’ll get you tickets for the next game.”

  “But that’s the Super Bowl,” says Tom.

  “Sure is, and we’re going to win.”

  “Wait!” yells Jeanette. “How are you going to get us the tickets?”

  “Give me your phone.”

  Jeanette hands it over, and I type my number into it quickly. “This is my private number, please don’t give it out. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll arrange everything. I owe you guys big time.” I open the door to get out.

  “Wait!” yells Jeanette again.

  I quirk an eyebrow at her.

  She holds up her cell and clicks away. “No one is going to believe me when I tell them I had Colt Anders in our car… this is proof.”

  I lean over and put my arm around the boys. “Quick,” I say as I grin widely. “Got it?”

  Jeanette smiles at me. “Thank you, now go get your girl!”

  I get out of the car, wave, and run into the terminal, looking a sight in my uniform. Usually, I stand out as I’m tall, but I can blend in if I try, dressed like this there’s no hiding who and what I am.

  “Oh my God! That’s Colt Anders,” yells a woman, but I don’t even look as I run toward the flight board.

  There’s only one flight leaving for London—it has to be Skye’s. Walking past everyone in line, I go to the front and wait for the next available check-in person. A young man yells “next please,” and I run toward him.

  “I need a flight to London.”

  He clicks away on his keyboard. “Ahh… I’m sorry, sir, but all flights to London are booked out today.”

  “I have to get in there. My girl is leaving, and I have to stop her.”

  “You need to get into the terminal? Just buy any international ticket, all I need is your passport.”

  My passport.

  I don’t even have my wallet on me.

  Looking at his name tag, I try for honesty. “Steve, I’ve been a jackass. I let my girl down, and she’s leaving to go to the UK to be with her dad. I can’t let her go without first telling her how I feel. The problem is, Steve, I don’t have any ID. Nothing. I came straight from the stadium. Steve… can you help me?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  Turning around, there’s a sea of people behind me, and it feels like everyone is staring—which of course, they are.

  “You’re Colt Anders,” gasps a middle-aged man with glasses and thinning hair.

  “Yes, sir,” I reply, automatically holding out my hand.

  “Bill Watts,” he practically yells as he pumps my hand up and down, grinning like a maniac.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  The grin falls off his face. “What’s wrong, Colt?”

  “My girl is leaving, and I haven’t told her how I felt. I might lose her for good.”

  Bill’s jaw drops, he sc
rambles under the barrier and bangs on Steve’s desk. “This is Colt Anders. You heard what he said, he’s gotta get to his girl.”

  “Sir, I’m aware of his predicament, but rules are rules.”

  “Colt. Anders,” repeats Bill more forcefully.

  “Sir, you said that already. I don’t care if he’s the President of the United States, he’s not getting in there without a passport.”

  Bill looks horrified and turns to me. “What can I do?”

  “I need to stop her from getting on that plane.”

  Bill turns back around and thrusts his passport at Steve. “I’m going to Paris. Give me my ticket.”

  Steve does his job, and Bill turns back around with both arms in the air. “Everyone! This is Colt Anders, quarterback for the New England Warriors. We need to help him get his girl. Who’s with me?” yells Bill.

  The crowd behind me erupts with many shouting, “I will!”

  Holding up my hands, I shake my head. “That’s okay, you don’t—”

  “Nonsense! It’s the least we can do after you won the game. What’s your girl’s name, and where’s she going?”

  “Skye Hadley, and she’s going to the UK. London to be exact.”

  “Everyone… her name is Skye Hadley, she’s going to London. Let’s go get her.”

  Bill hugs me, and with his fist in the air runs toward border security. He looks like a mad man. To my surprise, many other people are doing the same thing, and I hear chants of Skye Hadley ringing throughout the terminal.

  I look back at Steve, his mouth is open and his eyebrows are raised. “Are you famous?”

  “Only if you like football.” I smile, then get out of the way.

  Many people are shaking my hand and wishing me luck.

  Steve stands and walks briskly away. I can see him talking to a female employee, and then they both approach me through the thickening crowd.

  “Mr. Anders, I’m Daisy Small. Could you come this way, please?”

  As I follow Daisy through the crowd, many people take photographs, and a paparazzi camera crew pushes through for a better shot.

  “Colt! Is it true you’re here to get your girl?”

  “No comment,” I reply as try to keep up with Daisy.

  She takes me to a counter and picks up a phone.

  “Okay, Mr. Anders, what’s her name, where’s she going, and what does she look like?”

  “Skye Hadley. London. Blonde. Five foot five. Blues eyes. Beautiful.”

  Daisy dials a number, putting the phone to her ear. “Hey, Lena, this is Daisy. Lena, there’s a passenger getting on a flight to London, Skye Hadley, can you flag her and have her come back out to the front of the terminal?” Daisy nods. “Just tell her there’s an issue with her luggage.” Daisy rolls her eyes. “Please, just do it.” Daisy hangs up the phone. “She should head back through the doors in arrivals. You best get going.”

  “Thank you, Daisy.”

  “You can thank me by making sure I don’t get in trouble for this.”

  “I promise you won’t.”

  Moving around the counter, I hug Daisy, kiss her cheek, and run for the arrivals terminal.

  “Good luck,” she yells.

  Without turning around, I wave in the air and keep moving.

  Most people get out of my way, but a few recognize me and stand stock still as I maneuver around them. I’m dragging ragged breaths, scanning the crowd looking for my blonde bombshell.

  In desperation, I yell, “Skye Hadley, where are you?”

  Those closest to me move away, and the immediate area goes quiet.

  An older lady with an ample bosom approaches me. “Who you looking for?”

  “Skye Hadley.”

  “Yo, people! This here is Colt Anders, and he’s looking for a Skye Hadley. Can any of you help a brother out?” booms the woman with a lot of flair and sass.

  “Colt?”

  I turn around, and Skye is there.

  The woman with the voice touches my arm. “I got you, bro.”

  “Umm… thanks?”

  She grins broadly. “Well, you best go get her.” Then she shoves me in Skye’s direction.

  I stumble a little then lock eyes with Skye. “I’m sorry. I’m a jackass. I don’t want you to go. Please stay. We can go together as soon as the season is over.”

  “What?”

  She’s dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved top, black boots, and is carrying a large blue backpack. Skye doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on, and she’s still the prettiest girl in the airport.

  Closing the gap between us, I take her hand in mine. “I’m sorry. I love you. Please stay.”

  “Y-You love me?” she asks, then her mouth hangs open.

  Reaching up, I move a stray hair away from her face and nod. “Yes, and I’m sorry.” Tears well in her eyes. “Don’t cry.”

  Skye shakes her head and drops her gaze to my chest. “You’re… um, in your uniform.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, we won.”

  “I saw.” Skye sniffles. “You smell bad.”

  I tilt her head back up with my finger, so I can stare at her gorgeous blue eyes. “Yep. I didn’t want to miss you. I need you. Will you stay?”

  The woman with the big booming voice leans in. “Girl, if my man was Colt Anders, and he declared himself like that, I’d stay whether he smells bad or not.”

  We both turn and look at her, red blooms on her face with embarrassment as she takes a step back.

  “Will you stay?” I whisper.

  The tears which were threatening to fall spillover as she nods. I bend and pick her up at the waist, crushing her to me.

  “Colt,” yelps Skye.

  I twirl her around once and put her down, then claim those lips as mine. Letting Skye go, I grab the busy-body by the face and kiss her, then reach for Skye’s hand and her backpack, and we run for the exit.

  “Colt! What are we doing?”

  “I ran out after the game. I have a press conference to get to, but I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “Honey, my bags are checked in. I have to tell someone.” Laughs Skye.

  Coming to a stop, I nod, she’s right. “I know someone, come on.”

  Dragging Skye through the airport, we jog back to Daisy’s counter.

  “You found her?”

  “Yes, Daisy, I did.” I hold up our hands. “Skye, this is Daisy.”

  “Err… hello, Daisy?”

  “Daisy, Skye’s bags are checked, but she’s not getting on the plane. What do we do?”

  “Leave it with me. Skye, give me your tickets and write down where I should have the bags sent.”

  Daisy hands Skye a form and a pen. Skye hesitates a heartbeat, smiles, then I watch as she writes my address on the paper.

  Raising an eyebrow at Skye, she shrugs. “My home is rented, so I can’t send them there.”

  I don’t care, so long as she stays, Skye can live with me.

  As she hands over the form, Daisy grins. “Okay, you’re all set.”

  “Thank you,” says Skye as I grab her hand and once again head for the exit.

  “Good luck, Colt and Skye, I want an invite to the wedding,” yells Daisy as I move Skye faster.

  “Wedding?” asks Skye.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  With her hand firmly in mine, I walk out through the exit doors, only to run smack bang into a camera crew and reporter.

  “Colt Anders, we see you won the game and now you’ve got the girl?”

  I smile down at Skye. “Yes, I did.”

  “How does it feel to be going to the Super Bowl?”

  All I want to do is hide and be with Skye, but that’s not going to happen.

  “The New England Warriors have worked hard this year, and we deserve our shot at Super Bowl.”

  “You won the last game for your team. Without you, the New England Warriors wouldn’t stand a chance at the Super Bowl.”

  I shake my head and
smile. “That’s not true. I couldn’t have won the game by myself. It’s a team sport.”

  “And the girl? Did you win her, too?”

  I can’t help it as my smile widens. “Yeah, the Skye’s the limit with this one.”

  SKYE

  Colt’s declaration of love at the airport floored me. Since then, I’ve been living at his house with him and Beau. Beau is completely smitten with me. Colt calls him a traitor.

  Today is the Super Bowl.

  I’m being chauffeured to the stadium and then escorted to the owner’s box to watch the game. I have on my best Miss Me jeans, a glittery black spaghetti strap top and six-inch strappy heels. My hair has been curled, and I’ve applied a little more makeup than usual. As I take in my appearance in the mirror, I feel good. Colt has been nothing but loving and caring, and he’s treating me like a princess. There’s no more tension. It’s like he came to the decision that I am his, and he doesn’t care who knows.

  There’s a knock at the front door, and Beau barks out a loud greeting.

  “Beau!” I yell fondly.

  The big guy comes bounding up the stairs toward me. I pat the top of his big head.

  “You have plenty of treats, and we’ll be home later. So, be a good boy.”

  Beau’s tail wags frantically as I make my way down the stairs. Opening the front door, a huge man stands there.

  “Ms. Hadley?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m here to escort you to the Super Bowl. Are you ready?”

  I pick up my clutch from the table near the front door and nod. “Sure am.”

  It’s the last fifteen minutes of the game. The Warriors are winning. The excitement in the owner’s booth is palatable. There’s a lot of alcohol flowing, and I’m having an awesome time. As I look around the room, a statuesque black woman is standing off to one side, eyes glued to me. I offer her a tentative smile, and she nods, throws back her drink, and strides toward me.

  “Skye Hadley?”

  I take the hand she offers and nod. “Yes. Do we know each other?”

  “No. I’m a friend of Grayson Moore. My name is Diandra Evergrow.”

  “Oh, are you here as Gray’s guest?”

  “Ahh, no… I haven’t seen Gray in years.” Diandra nods at the owner of the New England Warriors, Tyson Reed. “Ty and I go way back, he invited me.”