Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
CHAPTER 01
CHAPTER 02
CHAPTER 03
CHAPTER 04
CHAPTER 05
CHAPTER 06
CHAPTER 07
CHAPTER 08
CHAPTER 09
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
EPILOGUE
PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF DEIRDRE MARTIN
The Penalty Box
“It will make you think even while you laugh and cry . . . A crowd-pleaser. You won’t want to miss The Penalty Box.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Scores a goal with this reader . . . Deirdre Martin proves once again that she can touch the heart and the funny bone.”
—Romance Junkies
“Martin scores another goal with another witty, emotionally true-to-life, and charming hockey romance.” —Booklist
“Fun, fast rinkside contemporary romance . . . Martin scores with this witty blend of romance and family dynamics.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Ms. Martin always delivers heat and romance, with a very strong conflict to keep the reader engaged. The Penalty Box should be added to your ‘must-read list.’ ”
—Contemporary Romance Reviews
“An engrossing read . . . Left me cheering at the end!”
—Joyfully Reviewed
T otal Rush
“Total Rush is just that—a total rush, an absolute delight. Deirdre Martin is the reason I read romance novels. This contemporary romance is well-written, has a hero to die for, and a romance that turns you into a puddle. It fills your heart to overflowing with love, acceptance, and the beauty of uniqueness. I laughed, I cried, I celebrated. It’s more than a read, it is a reread. Brava, Ms. Martin, you’re the greatest!”
—The Best Reviews
“Well-written . . . Makes you want to keep turning the pages to see what happens next.” —The (Columbia, SC) State
“Martin’s inventive take on opposites attracting is funny and poignant.” —Booklist
“A heartwarming story of passion, acceptance, and, most importantly, love, this book is definitely a Total Rush.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Fast-paced, sexy, fun yet tender, the pages of Total Rush practically turn themselves. This is Deirdre Martin’s third novel and is as sensational as the first two . . . A definite winner.” —Romance Junkies
Fair Play
“Martin depicts the worlds of both professional hockey and ethnic Brooklyn with deftness and smart detail. She has an unerring eye for humorous family dynamics [and] sweet buoyancy.” —Publishers Weekly
“Fast-paced, wisecracking, and an enjoyable story . . . Makes you feel like you’re flying.” —Rendezvous
“A fun and witty story . . . The depth of characterizations and the unexpectedly moving passages make this an exceptional romance and a must-read for all fans of the genre.”
—Booklist
“A fine sports romance that will score big-time . . . Martin has provided a winner.” —Midwest Book Review
“Sure to delight both fans of professional ice hockey and those who enjoy a good romance.” —Affaire de Coeur
Body Check
“Heartwarming.” —Booklist
“Combines sports and romance in a way that reminded me of Susan Elizabeth Phillips’s It Had to Be You, but Deirdre Martin has her own style and voice. Body Check is one of the best first novels I have read in a long time.”
—All About Romance (Desert Isle Keeper)
“Deirdre Martin aims for the net and scores with Body Check.” —The Romance Reader (Four Hearts)
“You don’t have to be a hockey fan to cheer for Body Check. Deirdre Martin brings readers a story that scores.”
—The Word on Romance
“Fun, fast-paced, and sexy, Body Check is a dazzling debut.”
—USA Today bestselling author Millie Criswell
“Fun, delightful, emotional, and sexy, Body Check is an utterly enthralling, fast-paced novel. This is one author I eagerly look forward to reading more from.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“An engaging romance that scores a hat trick [with] a fine supporting cast.” —The Best Reviews
Titles by Deirdre Martin
BODY CHECK
FAIR PLAY
TOTAL RUSH
THE PENALTY BOX
CHASING STANLEY
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
CHASING STANLEY
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / February 2007
Copyright © 2007 by Deirdre Martin.
eISBN : 978-1-429-55286-8
BERKLEY SENSATION®
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY SENSATION is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
http://us.penguingroup.com
For my baby sister, Beth.
Love you, kiddo.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to:
Jojo Plachta, who graciously allowed me to follow her around Manhattan so I could see what the life of a NYC dog walker/trainer/boarder is really like.
Dog trainer/lover/search-and-rescue expert Tom Connors, who answered all my canine questions both large and small.
Thanks also to:
My husband, Mark.
Elaine English and Allison McCabe.
Binnie Braunstein and Nancy Gonce.
The “posse”: Jody Novins, Alisa Kwitney, Liz Maverick, Karen Kendall, Mary Giery Smith, and Nancy Harkness.
Mom, Dad, Bill, Allison, Beth, Jane, Dave, and Tom.
Rocky, Winston, and Molly.
CHAPTER 01
He was big and handsome, with wavy black hair that gleamed in the sun and warm brown eyes that could tease out a girl’s deepest secrets. Delilah Gould’s heart flapped madly in her chest just looking at him. Her fingers itched; what she wouldn’t give to run them through that thick, lustrous hair! Unable to stop herself, she edged closer. Their eyes met. Delilah’s heart melted into a puddle, especially when he started wagging his tail. He was the most stunning Newfoundland she’d ever seen.
Delilah had taken her three dogs for a quick midday walk around her Upper West Side neighborhood. According to local weathercasters, the temperature was hovering around ninety-five degrees, with the mercury expected to hit one hundred by late afternoon. Delilah was anxious for Sherman, her golden retriever, Shiloh, a cairn terrier, and Belle, a white mutt, to do their business quickly so she could hustle them right back inside into air-conditioning. After only a few minutes, sweat was pasting her clothes to her body, while the stifling humidity had shocked the hair around her head into a brunette halo.
Despite the heat, the streets were still crowded, though most people were moving like sleepwalkers and looked about as happy to be outside as Delilah was. Rounding the corner of West Eighty-first and Madison, she paused to take a sip from her water bottle. That’s when she saw him.
“C’mon, Stanley. Don’t do this to me.” A well-built man with hair dark as his dog’s and brown eyes just as tender, sounded desperate, cajoling the dog. “Stanley!” The man’s voice turned harsh. “Get up.” He moved behind the dog and tried pushing him. Stanley didn’t budge. “C’mon, you big slug. I don’t have time for this.” Hooking his fingers under the dog’s collar, he pulled. That’s when Delilah sprang into action.
“Don’t do that!”
Delilah commanded her own dogs to lie down and stay. They did so dutifully as she approached the Newf and his owner, who was eying her suspiciously.
“Do what?”
“Pull on his collar like that.” She clucked her tongue, noting how heavily the poor dog was panting. “How long have you had him outside like this? Don’t you know big dogs suffer more in the heat? Especially black dogs. Black absorbs the rays of the sun. Look how heavily he’s panting! How would you like to be out in this weather wearing a big fur coat?”
The man stared at her. “Do I know you?”
Delilah ignored him. She took her water bottle and squeezed some water into the grateful dog’s mouth before pulling a bandanna from her pocket and wiping his dripping jowls. The dog owner watched, dumbstruck. Sizing him up as discreetly as she could, Delilah noticed he seemed unaffected by the heat, his tennis shirt dry as a bone, not a trace of moisture on his rugged, tanned face, almost as if he was above sweating. Delilah felt like a total zhlub standing there with her sticky T-shirt and shorts covered in dog hair. As casually as she could, she touched the top of her head, pretending to push some hair into place. It was just as she suspected: she was close to sporting an afro. Frazzled, she shoved her bandanna back in her pocket.
The dog owner looked bemused. “Do you always rush up to strangers’ dogs and give them water?”
“No. Just the ones who are dying in the heat.”
The man’s teeth gritted. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to get him to move.”
“Not very effectively. You’re totally clueless,” Delilah blurted. Oh, God. It was happening. Whenever she got nervous, her mouth went into overdrive. She either blurted the first thing that came to her head or babbled incoherently. Sometimes both. Today appeared to be a blurt day.
The man folded his arms across his chest. “You know, I’d heard New Yorkers could be jerks, but until now, I didn’t believe it.”
“I’m not a jerk,” Delilah insisted weakly. “I just know a lot about dogs.”
“Think you can get him to move?”
“Yes.”
“Oh yeah? Then be my guest. Please.”
Delilah pulled a piece of hot dog from her fanny pack and held it out to Stanley, slowly walking backward away from him. Stanley immediately scrambled to his feet, lumbering after her. Delilah stopped moving. Stanley stood in front of her, eyes glued to the treat in her hand.
Delilah casually picked up his leash. Stanley’s eyes remained riveted on her hand, his jowls dripping. “Stanley, sit,” Delilah said firmly, raising the treat high over Stanley’s head. Stanley sat. “Good boy,” Delilah cooed, feeding him the hot dog slice. She turned back to Stanley’s owner. “See? That wasn’t too hard.”
The owner frowned. “Except now he’s sitting again.” He gestured at Delilah’s fanny pack. “Got any more hot dog chunks in there?”
“Why?”
“To bribe him into moving.”
“No, the secret is using food as a reward for listening to a command.”
“Right. Listen, um—what’s your name?”
“Delilah.”
“I’m Jason. Delilah, if you could give me another piece of hot dog so I can just get him home, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Where do you live?”
“Three blocks up on Eighty-fourth. Why?”
“You can’t make him walk three blocks dangling a treat in front of his face! It’s inhumane!”
At the sound of the word treat, Stanley jerked his head in Delilah’s direction, sending a thick string of drool sailing toward her. It landed on the left sleeve of her T-shirt.
Jason looked mortified. “I’m sorry.”
“No biggie.” Delilah pulled out her bandanna again and wiped off her arm before wiping Stanley’s mouth again. “You don’t see many Newfs in the city,” she noted.
Jason seemed pleased by this observation. “You don’t see many Newfs, period. That’s why I wanted one.”
Delilah frowned with dismay. “Is this some kind of status thing for you?”
“No.” Jason seemed offended. “This is some kind of breed thing for me. A friend of mine growing up had a Newf, and the dog was great. When I had a chance to get one myself, I grabbed it.”
“Newfs are kind of special,” Delilah agreed. There had once been a Newfie named Cyrus who lived in the neighborhood for three years, until his owners moved to the burbs. Delilah had adored Cyrus; he was intelligent, affectionate, and extremely protective—not just of Delilah, but of everyone he bonded with. Some people were repulsed by his drool, but not Delilah. When necessary, she lovingly wiped the long strings of spittle from his mouth, oblivious to the stains smeared on her clothing.
Delilah stuffed her bandanna back into her pocket. “You really need to train him.”
“I don’t have time.”
Delilah shrugged. “Then don’t complain about how long it takes to get him to move.” She picked up her own dogs’ leashes, commanded them to “Go,” and resumed walking down the block.
“Wait!” Jason yelled after her. “You’re just going to leave me here?”
“Yes!” Delilah called back over her shoulder. Poor Stanley.
She was halfway up the block when Jason’s voice again rang out. “Goddamn . . . Delilah, help!”
Delilah turned. Stanley had wound his leash around Jason’s legs.
Delilah walked back to them, shaking her head in admonishment. “Stanley’s a delinquent. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Jason scowled. “Think you could help me out first and lecture me later?”
Delilah pulled another piece of hot dog from her pack and led Stanley counterclockwise around his master the maypole. When she was done, she again commanded him to sit. This time he obeyed without hesitation.
“Good boy!” Delilah praised him, feeding him his
treat and giving his ears a rub for good measure. Her tone was considerably cooler as she addressed Jason. “He’s not leash trained, is he?”
Jason looked sheepish as he shook his head.
“You’re not doing him any favors.”
“He’s not a city dog. At least he wasn’t until last week.” Jason crouched down so he was eye level with Stanley. “Isn’t that right, boy?” Stanley began licking his face.
“Some people thought I should have left you behind, but we’re a team, aren’t we, big guy?”
Clueless though he was, Delilah found herself softening toward Jason. “I can see you really love him,” she said, “but a dog of Stanley’s size needs to be trained—especially living in the city.” Delilah couldn’t shake the image of Stanley barreling down the sidewalk, mindlessly mowing down innocent pedestrians in his wake. Or worse, trotting out into traffic and getting hit by a car.
Delilah had a waiting list of owners dying for her to train their dogs, but she’d always been a sucker for the neediest cases. “I’m a dog trainer,” she confessed.
“I had a feeling you were some kind of animal nut.”
“I am not a nut!”
Jason looked apologetic as he rose to his feet. “Let me rephrase that. I had a feeling you were a trainer or walker or something.”
“Both, actually. I board dogs, too.” She reached into the zippered compartment of her fanny pack and pulled out her business card, handing it to Jason.
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