Keeping Score

by Cathryn Fox

  “Why didn’t you defend yourself?”

  “Because…because we can’t be together, Reagan.” I step back, working to put physical and emotional distance between us. “Maybe in some fucked up way, I thought if you hated me, it would be easier. I don’t even know if that makes sense. I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m not great with words. I usually let my hands do the talking.”

  “Yes, you do, and I like the way they talk.” She takes my hand and puts it on her waist. I quickly tug it away. “Reagan, we can’t.” My gaze goes to my bike. “Wait, how did you get my bike from the shed?”

  She gives me a wicked grin. “I learned how to pick a lock from the best.”

  A laugh bubbles out of me, and she laughs with me. It eases some of the tension in my body. “I wouldn’t go bragging about that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not brag-worthy.”

  “Maybe not, but you are.” She takes a step toward me.

  Her sweet scent wraps around me and it takes every ounce of restraint I possess to keep from reaching out to her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I had a long talk with my parents.” She glances down for a second. “About…everything.”

  I brush my hand over my face, unease inside me. Jesus, if she told her father what I did, the things I said, why would he fix my bike and ride it to me. “You told them about us?”

  “Yes, and Cochrane, the card game—”

  Panic bursts inside me and the need to run and run and run until I can’t run away from all this anymore pulls at me. “Reagan, you shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Then we talked to Cochrane’s parents.”

  “Holy fuck. Just go, go be with your dad and pretend you never met me. It’s what’s best for you. You don’t want to get any more involved in this than you are.” I try to back up, but she grabs my arm.

  “Involved in what? Getting you back on the team, and outing Cochrane for lying to his father to get back at you…and back at me.”

  She pulls me back to her and I stumble. “What the hell?”

  “I had a long talk with Miranda. I was so confused at first, I wasn’t able to see through the hurt, but when I calmed down, I asked myself, how can a guy who was so sweet, gentle, caring and considerate, a guy who really cared about my future, play with my heart just to take down his enemy.” I blink at her, my pulse practically climbing out of my throat when she adds, “I came to the conclusion that he can’t.”

  “Reagan…you don’t understand.” Wait, did she just say I was back on the team? I shake my head. That doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that she doesn’t get dragged down with me.

  “I understand everything. My parents and Cochrane’s parents are best friends, and believe it or not, the Montgomery’s are decent people. Between us all, we put two and two together. Cochrane’s father only knew half the story when he went to the Dean. Cochrane spun him a story and he thought he was doing the right thing. When my father visited his old friend Dean Blakely, and filled him in on the other half of the story, he reinstated you. You’re back on the team, Rocco, and while Cochrane won’t be punished by the college, he has his father to answer to, and that’s enough.”

  “Reagan, I can’t believe any of this.”

  “It’s true, and during that long talk with my parents, I told them I wanted to switch to the art department.”

  “Oh no.”

  She laughs. “It’s okay. I showed them my art, and the painting of the ocean through your cave was their favorite.”

  “You painted it?”

  “Yes, and I want you to have it.”

  I’m so touched, I can’t even find words to thank her.

  “Thank you for helping me find my way. Now it’s time for you to get back on the path you were meant to be on.” A car goes by and the horn blares. She smiles at me and glances at her phone. “The game is about to start and I’m not sure they can win without their tight end.”

  My throat is so tight as tears pound against the back of my eyeballs. Reagan believes in me. In us. “Reagan…I…I love you. I’ve always loved you. The second I saw you freshman year with Cochrane, I loved you.”

  She puts her hand on my face. “I know, and that’s why you made sure I got home safely from night classes. The reason you made sure all the other girls on campus got home safely is because of this.” Her hand falls from my face and she places it over my heart. “You pushed me away to protect me. I realize that, and I appreciate it. How could a girl not love a guy who would sacrifice everything for love?”

  My heart nearly jumps out of my chest, and I have to ask, because if I’m hallucinating, and she didn’t just tell me she loved me, I might have to destroy something. “You love me?”

  She laughs. “Of course I do.”

  I pick her up and spin her around, hardly able to believe this is happening. I set her down and brush my thumb over her lip. “You’re not going to be in any trouble, are you?”

  “No, but you are if you don’t get this…” She pauses to pinch my ass. “tight end on the field in the next few minutes, you’re going to be in trouble.”

  I glance past her shoulders, my heart racing. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, but if you want to later…” She gives me a wink. “I’ll let you.”

  I grin and kiss her again. She breaks it and pushes me. “Get on the bike and get moving. Your gear is already in the locker room, thanks to Alistair.”

  “He knew you were up to this?”

  “Yeah.”

  I grab the helmet her father left on the bike. “I’m going to kill him for not telling me.”

  She puts her hand on my cheek and I lean into the softness. “How about not doing that. When it comes to fight or fuck, I’m rooting for the latter.”

  I stand there grinning at how far we’ve come together, how lucky I am to have an incredible woman like her in my life. “Now get out there and get a touchdown for me.”

  “I will.” I jump on my bike and she kisses me.

  “A touchdown for the team, and a touch down there for me, later.” Jokingly, she points downward. “Although I must warn you, I might want two.”

  I laugh, a new lightness inside me as love fills my heart, and I let it. “Who am I to stand in the way of a girl who knows what she wants?”

  “Go get ‘em, Rocco.”

  “I will, Sunshine. I will. Then I’m coming for you.”

  Epilogue

  Reagan

  Two Years Later:

  * * *

  I used to think woodpeckers were gorgeous majestic birds until one decided that the corner of the cottage was the best place to jackhammer with its beak at five in the morning. Groaning, I peel one eye open and then another. I turn to find Rocco sleeping quietly, his arms over his head, his chest rising and falling quietly. I smile, my heart so full of love for him.

  The thing is, every day I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with him. After college, he went on to play for the NFL, and I couldn’t be more proud. All his hard work paid off. Me? I switched majors and needed to take a few extra years to finish my arts and design degree. But that’s okay. It’s also good that I have those business courses behind me. They’re going to come in handy when I finally get my gallery up and running, and start selling my paintings and art by other upcoming artists. One piece I’ll never sell, though, is the one in the cave, right when I was beginning to fall in love with Rocco. That’s a special one that no one sees but us.

  I grin, thinking back to when Rocco broke us into the college gallery. I know what he was doing, what he was trying to prove, and I love him all the more for it. It helped me face my parents and fight for what I really wanted. Since then, Mom and Dad have really changed their outlook on life, accepting my path, and completely excited about the announcement Rocco and I made to them last week.

  The cabin vibrates as the woodpecker goes at it, getting on my very last nerve. I shake my head, hardly able to believe Roc
co can sleep through the racket.

  Not wanting to wake him, and a little jealous that he can sleep through that noise, I push the covers off and step into the main room of our family cottage. Rocco and I came here as soon as summer hit, even though he bought a huge house near Kingston after signing with the NFL. He wanted a place for us, something close to my school, so I could finish up my degree. I do love the privacy here, surrounded by trees, and the lake, and some of the birds. Miranda is coming to visit later, and I’m looking forward to seeing her. She’s working for a station near Kingston, allowing us to stay close as she put her journalism degree to work. I love that she’s still finding drama in everything. But she’s a true friend to me and Rocco.

  I put on a pot of coffee and step outside. Clapping my hands hard, I glance at the noisy woodpecker. “Go away,” I holler, and it flies away. But it lurks in a nearby tree, waiting until I leave so he can get back to his hammering. My efforts are futile! My diamond ring glistens in the sunlight, and I smile. The first thing Rocco did with his signing bonus was buy me an engagement ring, and we married right after his first season because he refused to wait.

  I breathe in the morning air and take in the little ripples on the lake. A breeze blows in and a little shiver goes through me. But I’m not really cold. Not anymore. Not with Rocco in my life. I walk around to the back of the cottage and glance at the majestic tree house Dad and I built to surprise Rocco last year when he came back from his first NFL season. He laughed so hard, picked me up and spun me around with childlike enthusiasm. While Dad never understood the secret Rocco and I share, he didn’t question my desire to build a treehouse at the cottage. No doubt he assumed I wanted it for children down the road.

  I walk to the treehouse, run my hand along the ladder, and take the five steps up into it. I grin as I glance at the walls, completely covered in my art. Rocco insisted we hang them so we could make our little treehouse a home. One wall is still bare, though.

  “What are you doing up there?”

  I poke my head out as Rocco climbs the ladder, his hair mussed from sleeping. He’s never looked sexier, and my body sparks, wanting him inside me again.

  “Woodpecker woke me.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m going to kill that thing. You need your sleep.”

  I laugh. “No, you’re not. He’s just a woodpecker doing what woodpeckers do.” He stands beside me, crowding me, overwhelming me. My heart beats a little harder in my chest.

  He slides his arms around me and his early morning erection presses against my stomach. “In that case, I’m going to take you right here, right now, because I’m a man about to do what men do.”

  “I think I like that idea.” He frowns, like he’s suddenly remembering something. “Rocco, it’s fine.” No matter how many times I reassure him, he’s still a little worried.

  He drops to his knees and presses a kiss to my baby bump, and the moisture that floods his eyes every time he does that brings tears to my own eyes.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to have my very own family, Reagan.” His voice is broken and hoarse, filled with want and need and so much love it wraps around me and squeezes me tight.

  “We’re having a family,” I say, recalling Mom and Dad’s reaction. They were over the moon excited of course, and making a million plans for the baby. One plan I won’t let them make however, was on our child’s future. Rocco and I will teach and guide our little one, but whatever our child wants to be in life is up to them.

  “Thank you, Reagan,” he chokes out. “Thank you for this.” He gently caresses my tummy.

  I run my fingers through his hair as tears pour down my face. He’s been thanking me a lot since I told him we were pregnant. “Thank you,” I say in return. “I can’t even imagine where I’d be or what I’d be doing if it weren’t for you. Well, yes I can, and I’d be miserable.” Staying with Cochrane would have been a mistake, a life lost and ruined. Mom and Dad definitely saw that after the way he manipulated the poker game situation and got Rocco kicked off the college football team for a short time.

  “Are you happy, Reagan?” He tugs me down and presses his lips to mine. It’s a deep, love-imbued kiss that steals my breath, and fills my heart.

  “I have never been happier,” I tell him, even though he knows that. But sometimes he asks anyway, that lost little boy still residing inside him. But that boy grows stronger and braver under my care, showing up less and less as our love continues to grow deeper and stronger.

  “I hope we have a boy and he looks just like you.”

  “We don’t want that, Sunshine.” He laughs. “We want a girl who looks just like her beautiful mother.”

  I warm all over. “Such a sweet talker.”

  “It’s the truth.” He brushes my hair from my face and looks over my shoulders. “No matter what we have, I can’t wait to make art with them and fill that wall. When that’s done, this treehouse really will be a home.”

  “A family of three…”

  The corners of his mouth turn up playfully. “For now.”

  “You’re determined to keep me pregnant, aren’t you?” I laugh. For the last year, he’s been telling me he wants a dozen kids, which might be ten too many for me.

  “I’m determined to do whatever makes you happy, Reagan.” He brings my lips to his and lightly grazes his mouth over mine. “No one deserves happiness more than you.” The truth is that he’s the one who deserves happiness, and I plan to do whatever it takes to put a smile on his face every day and maybe we’ll end up having twelve kids. Seeing him so happy makes me happy, and I love that Mom and Dad fell in love with him too. How could they not? He’s kind, compassionate and spent years watching over me, when I wasn’t even his. Rocco Gianni is definitely one of the good guys and I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

  I press my lips to his. “Now what was that you said about a man doing man things?”

  “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  I love how much he worries about our little baby, and I know he’s going to be overprotective, but a good dad. The best dad. “Well, if you don’t want to,” I tease.

  “Oh, I want to, Sunshine. I want to strip you naked and put my hard cock inside you and make love to you until the sun goes down and you’re seeing stars.”

  “I always see stars when you make love to me, day or night.” I grin. “I love you, Rocco, and just so you know, you’re as good with your words as you are with your hands.”

  * * * * *

  Thank you so much for reading Keeping Score, book three in my End Zone. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I loved writing it. Please read on for an excerpt of The Playmaker, book one in my Players on Ice series.

  * * *

  The Playmaker

  "I LOVED this book. I enjoyed how their love story came together and look forward to reading the next book in this series." Mary, Amazon Reviewer."

  I didn’t want to ask him for a favor.

  He was the cockiest hockey player I knew.

  And my brother’s best friend.

  But I needed to learn about the game, and he was down with a concussion.

  I didn’t realize he had an agenda of his own.

  One that involved showing me his off-ice plays.

  I should have said no.

  Should have kept things in the central zone.

  But one sweet taste was a game changer, and the only words on my lips were yes.

  Until a lifetime of secrets spilled out…

  The Playmaker

  Excerpt:

  Fat drops of spring rain pummel my head, wilting my curls as I dart through Seattle’s busy traffic to the café on the other side of the street. My best friend, Jess, is inside waiting for me, undoubtedly hyped up on her third latté by now.

  I step over a pothole and search for an opening in the traffic. I hate being late, I really do. I totally value other people’s time, but when the email came through from my editor, asking me to write a hot hockey series, my priorities took
a curve. I’ve worked with Tara for a couple years now, and I know her like—pardon the pun—a well-worn book. To her, hesitation equals disinterest. She’s a mover, a tree-shaker, and it wouldn’t have taken long for her to offer the opportunity to another author. She wanted a quick reply and I had to give it to her.

  I got this!

  Yeah, that was my response, but what did I have to lose? I’ve been in such a rut lately, thanks to my fickle muse, deserting me when I needed her most. I swear to God, sometimes she acts like a hormonal teenager. I need to whip her into shape so I don’t lose this gig. The royalties from a series will help make a sizeable dent in the bills that are piling up high and deep.

  High and deep.

  I laugh. One of those self-derisive snorts that crawls out when you’d really rather cry. Yeah, that pretty much sums up the I got this response I emailed back. High and deep, like a big steaming pile of—

  A car horn blares, jolting me from my pity party. With my heart pounding in my chest, I step in front of the Tesla and flip the guy off. I safely reach the sidewalk and once again my mind is back on my job, and off the impatient jerk in the overpriced car.

  I step up on the sidewalk and lift my face to the rain, the cool water a pleasant break from this unusual spring heat wave we’re having. Pressure fills my throat. The hum of traffic behind me dulls, leaving only the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. Panic.

  Why the hell did my editor think I, former figure skater turned romance novelist, would want to write a series about hot hockey players? Yeah, sure my brother is an NHL player, but that doesn’t mean I’m into the game. I hate hockey. No, hate is too mild a word for what I feel. I loathe it entirely. But you know what I don’t loathe? Eating. Yeah, I like eating. Oh, and a roof over my head. I really like that, too.

  I draw in a semi self-satisfied breath at having rationalized my fast response.

  Except my reply was total and utter bullshit. I don’t got this. In fact, I…wait, what’s the antonym of got this? All that comes to mind is, you’re screwed. Yep, that pretty much describes my predicament.