Single Dad Boss: A Small Town Romance

by Kara Hart

  “I don’t know if we’ll do it,” he says. “They’re just as good as us.”

  “They’re not as good as you, though. No one on that team is a match against you. I think everyone in the crowd knows it too. It’s like they’re here for you only,” I say.

  “They probably hate me,” he sighs.

  “They love you,” I repeat. “Just keep playing hardball and you’ll win this.”

  He kisses me and makes his way to that locker room. All I can do is hope for the best. It’s all come down to this day.

  The halftime show is complete madness. Huge bands play with two known female pop stars, women I’ve never seen in my life before, but the crowd is completely familiar with them and riled up.

  The players make their way back onto the field and Jackson’s side is up first. They go back into it, harder than ever. Jackson is playing as if his life depends on it. Every play he makes, he looks over at me as if I’m the one issuing the points.

  On their third down, he looks serious. He’s only ten yards from the end zone and it’s pretty obvious they’ll make it. They always do. Still, the opposing defense is going strong. They’re determined to block him the whole damn way if they have to.

  “Hike!” Loke screams and drops back, examining the field. Jackson pushes past the line and is wide open. Loke throws the pigskin to him and he catches it near the end zone. He dives and he’s in! They score and the crowd goes nuts. Only, a linebacker comes barreling in. He connects against Jackson and slams him into the grass. When the guy gets up, Jackson doesn’t move.

  “Get up,” I whisper. But he still doesn’t move. He’s out cold. “Get up!” I scream.

  “It’ll be okay, baby girl,” Jennifer whispers. “He’s fine. He just got hit a little hard.”

  “Come on, Jackson!” I scream. The whole crowd is doing the same.

  The medic rushes onto the field and looks into his eyes. It doesn’t look good. It doesn’t look like he’s even moving.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Jennifer says again, almost out of habit. But I’m not so sure. What if he’s injured forever? What if they take him out of the game? There are just too many questions to ask. I find myself having to sit back against a sidewall. This is not what I imagined would happen. Jackson never gets hurt.

  The medic shakes his head and I feel my heart collapse. Is it over for Jackson Leeman? Does he have to throw in the towel? I look at my ring. “Come on Jackson. Get up. You can do this,” I whisper, practically praying. “Do it for me.”

  91

  Jackson

  Everything turns black. I turned to look at him and almost immediately I’m thrown into oblivion. My mind goes blank and I lose consciousness. When I wake up, there’s a light in my eyes and I’m still on the field. Thank God, they didn’t pull me from the game yet.

  “Can you hear me?” the medic is saying. The coach runs over to us and talks to the medic in hushed tones. He shakes his head and yells something at him. I can’t make out the words.

  “Come on Jackson,” he says to me. “Are you good or do you need medical attention?”

  “He may have a concussion and it could be bad. We need to examine him,” the medic says with fire in his eyes.

  “Let him decide what he needs, dammit!” the coach yells.

  I have the worst headache of my life and it’s not going away anytime soon. “Give me five advil and I’ll be fine,” I manage to whisper, mouth feeling dry. “And some fucking water. I’m dying of thirst.”

  “He needs testing and to sit this one out,” the medic repeats. “That’s what I’m calling.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” I tell him.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” he asks me.

  I look at his hand and see two fingers duplicated over and over again. I blink again and they connect, only to duplicate again. “Two,” I tell him. “I see two fingers and I feel fine. Just got a little roughed up is all.”

  “I could lose my job if I fuck up this call,” he whispers to me. “If I send you on the field, do you promise me you’re okay?”

  “I’ll sign a fucking waiver if I have to,” I tell him, picking myself up from the grass. The crowd goes utterly berserk. I wave at the crowd, feeling incredibly dizzy and sick to my stomach. I look over at Fiona and she looks so damn worried. She’d kill me if she knew I was feeling this way and still staying in the game.

  I walk to the side of the field and rest my body. When I sit down on the bench, I sigh loudly and rest my head in my hands. The world is spinning around me and I shouldn’t be staying in the game, but I have to finish this one out. I’m not about to be taken away on a stretcher during the Super Bowl. That’s not my legacy, dammit.

  I look over at my beautiful fiancé standing over in the press area. She’s shivering against the foggy-cold air, looking at me with worried eyes. I give her the thumbs up. Whatever happens, I have to finish this game out.

  Landon leans over. “Got the spins?”

  “A little bit,” I smile. “It’ll go away, right?”

  “Shit, man. Don’t ask me,” he laughs. “I’d probably finish the game out, only to find out I fucked up my body forever.”

  The game chugs along and it’s neck and neck, through and through. By the end of the fourth quarter, it’s anyone’s game. I honestly don’t know how we’re going to win this. I’m injured, but still playing decent. There are only a few plays left. Lucky for us, we’ve got our offense.

  We run a normal play, but their defense is strong. Loke can’t get around a few of their lineman that break through. When we huddle back up, the world feels intense and hurried. There’s not much time left. All eyes are on us.

  “What do we do?” Landon asks Loke. “They’re killing us out there.”

  “We gotta bring out the big guns,” he says, turning very serious. “You know what I’m talking about Jackson?”

  “I know exactly what you’re talking about.” I smile.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Landon asks.

  Loke tells him what the deal is. We go for a field goal. They receive the ball with 5 minutes to go. We plan for an interception and run it in. It’s about the only chance we have.

  Landon, however, is not too thrilled. We call a timeout and discuss the whole thing together, as a team. The coach nods his head as he listens to Loke’s plan. “I’m just not sure. What if they score on us after the field goal?”

  “It’s a risk,” I tell him. “But if we can hold it down, we’ll come out champions.”

  “Fuck,” he sighs. “This isn’t the decision I thought I would have to make during the 4th quarter. You feeling okay, Jackson? Your head up to date?”

  “I’m good. Put me out there on defense, coach. I’ll intercept the damn thing. I’ll make sure we go home with that trophy,” I say. I look to the side of the field, at Fiona and feel my heart wrench. Winning this game is for her.

  So, we go for it. “Break!” we scream, putting our hands in. We line up and the kicker kicks the field goal. We get the few points we need and then, it’s time for defense. Quickly, they try to score on us. We hold it down, but they’re only doing running plays. They know they need to be extra careful today.

  “Come on,” I whisper. “Just throw the damn ball.”

  It doesn’t happen. By third down, I’m convinced they’re just going to keep pushing on through. Another run play and I start to get real worried. However, the next play, I see their formation. “What a minute,” I whisper. “I know this formation.”

  It’s a play I did in college, during the Rose Bowl. It was my winning play, and now they’re trying to use it on me! I run across the field, whispering to my players what they’re plan is, and quickly get back into formation. They’re going to pass the ball to number 37. And they’re going to try and do it triumphantly.

  “Hike!” the quarterback screams and everything suddenly seems to slow down. Our cleats smash down on the grass as bits and pieces fly up around our legs. The
linemen’s helmets smash together like a bunch of rams on the side of an eastern slope. The crowd cheers, boos, and spins their noisemakers.

  I glance over at 37 and he makes eye contact with me, as well. He knows I know about his plan. There’s a look of fear in his eyes, for a split second, that tells me I can beat him. I run over to his side of the field, glancing at their quarterback.

  Their quarterback drops behind everyone, winding his arm back. He launches that football into the end zone and I see it perfectly. This is it. It all comes down to this one second.

  The ball comes closer and closer. I can’t even blink. My nerves are fucking shot. And then I think of her. Fiona. And my heart is set on fire. I jump in front of the wide receiver, number 37, and the tip of the pigskin touches my fingers. It knocks a little, bouncing off my palm, and for a second there I think I’m doomed. Somehow though, it falls into my arms. I catch the ball. Only problem is, now I’ve got a full defense facing me and I’m on the wrong end of the field.

  “Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself.

  The crowd goes absolutely insane. A beautiful excitement surges throughout my body. It carries me across the field. I smash through one lineman and dodge another. I jump over one guy who tries to tackle me from below and spin around the next. It’s a dance. The whole thing is a fucking dance, and I’m killing it out there.

  It’s a long fucking run, but I dive into the end zone, reaching out my arms. My body falls into the clearing and I close my eyes. It’s only by the sound of the roaring crowd, that I know I’ve just scored the winning touchdown. The Portland Black Wings have won the championship. And the crowd goes wild.

  92

  Fiona

  He scores the touch down and I feel my heart nearly burst. Jennifer turns to me and squeals with delight. “He did it! Oh my lord, he did it!”

  I stand there in shock. “He… did it?” I ask, stunned beyond all belief.

  “Your guy did it!” she repeats.

  “My… guy… did it…” I mumble.

  Jackson comes running from across the field. He jumps over the press barrier and nearly tackles me! He hugs me tight, pressing his lips around mine. I kiss him deeply and he picks me up into his arms. “We did it, baby,” he whispers.

  “You did it,” I tell him.

  “Not without you. Everything I do, from here on out, is because of you,” he says.

  He runs with me in his arms, across the field. Soon enough, everyone has picked us up into their arms. We get tossed around in the air as someone hands me the trophy. There’s no time to react. It’s either all smiles or tears, and the other team doesn’t look so hot.

  Landon’s happy, Jackson’s happy, and I’m beyond words. The only thing left is our wedding and, of course, the rest of our future.

  Epilogue: The Wedding

  “I do,” he whispers.

  The birds fly around us. The air is colder and the leaves on the trees have begun to fall. “You may kiss the bride,” the officiate says to Jackson.

  It’s like we’ve been married for months now. We moved in together almost instantly. Jackson sold his mansion the day after the big game for a whopping 3.5 million dollars, and we bought a house, far off into the woods of Astoria, Oregon. Not too far from Portland, but just far enough.

  His lips wrap around mine and I feel choked up. My heart is steady, but there’s something beautiful in the air. This is the man I love. This is the man I’ll be with for the rest of my life.

  The champagne corks fly and the toasts come in quick succession. All it takes is a flash, the cutting of the cake, and a few more drinks before the sun starts setting behind the mountains. We’ve chosen a clearing in the forest for our wedding spot, and it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

  “This will be our spot, forever,” he whispers into my ears as we dance slow together. His hand is in my hand and we both rest our cheeks on each other.

  “Forever? You mean it?” I ask him.

  “Forever. I promise,” he says.

  After the song finishes, he grabs my hand and pulls me aside. “Come with me for a second,” he says.

  We sneak off into the woods, running and giggling together. “Where are you taking me to, Jackson Leeman?” I ask him, laughing.

  “You’ll see!” he says.

  When we get to a cliff, we stop, completely out of breath. The sun is in full glory in this spot, setting down into the canyon. Huge trees dart up from the ground, but in between all the leaves are rays and a light fog. The sun is a reddish hue that looks utterly gorgeous. It’s unbelievable.

  “I want a child together,” he says.

  “You do?” I ask him, biting my lip. “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “Shit, everything’s a lot of responsibility. My whole life they’ve been telling me that and it turns out it’s not as hard as it looks. Even if it is, I know I’ll love our baby forever. I just want that with you, so bad.” He kisses my cheek and looks me in the eyes.

  “Me too,” I tell him. There’s a short amount of silence before I whisper something else. “So why aren’t you fucking me right now?”

  “I don’t want to ruin your dress,” he smiles, cocky.

  “Go ahead,” I laugh. “Ruin it. We can always send it to a drycleaner.”

  I reach out and feel his cock. It’s already hard as a fucking rock. I pounce on my new husband. “Well, hello, Mr. Leeman.”

  “Mrs. Leeman,” he whispers back, kissing me.

  He lifts my dress up, over my waist and enters me. I’m about as wet as I could possibly be. He feels around my garter, up to my waist, and pulls me in closer. He pushes in deep and slow, our breaths controlled but on the verge of being erratic and wild. In the distance, some bushes rustle but nothing bothers us right now. We’re in our own personal heaven.

  I ride him slow and deep, kissing him in between every gyration from my hips. “I’m going to cum,” he whispers, grabbing at my dress. Leaves and bits of soil stick to us like Velcro.

  “Me too,” I moan.

  He cums inside of me and I feel my legs give way. My stomach shakes and my chest feels clammy and tight. I lose myself with him, screaming in the forest. It echoes off the branches. He covers my mouth and starts laughing. “Shh,” he whispers.

  We lay with each other, under the giants of the forest. As the trees stare down at us, I feel blessed. I feel like everything has been made for this one moment. It’s not real.

  “I love you, Fiona Breckinridge,” he whispers, playing with my hair.

  “That’s not my name anymore,” I smile.

  “It’ll always be your name to me,” he says. “I’ll always remember you as the girl I almost lost forever. I’m just so damn grateful I get you now.”

  Tears form in both our eyes, but they’re tears of joy. We’ve spent most of our lives running from our problems, hiding in our work and passions. When we finally decided to stop running, we found each other again. It was that simple and yet, that complicated.

  When Jackson holds me, I know that everything will go according to plan. I know it’s probably going to be a little crazy, but so be it. That’s how I like it anyway. What’s life without a little adventure? Lucky for me, I have my wide receiver, ready for anything that comes our way.

  93

  Author’s Note:

  Thank you so much for reading Second Down Love! I hope you enjoyed it :)

  94

  Lena

  It starts with my award and what I thought would be one of the best nights of my life. “For the most captivating piece… Lena Skye! Come up and accept your award. We’re so happy to have you on our team.”

  A round of applause, a quick run to the stage, and I’m smiling and giving my thanks. I guess I shouldn’t make it such a big deal, but I’ve worked hard for this. I deserve a little celebration.

  Cut to my ex-boyfriend drinking far too much. He leans against the wall of our boss’s house, smiling at me. “You think you really deserve that award?”
he asks me. I don’t respond. We broke up yesterday and the wounds are still fresh, but I’m more annoyed than anything. Though, I know his angle. He’s going to do everything he can just to get back at me. Great. Because I deserve it, right?

  Cut to hours later, when we’re driving home. He’s drunk, my sister’s drunk, and I’m stuck with the pieces. I’m doing what I always do, which is helping those who can’t help themselves. A friend once told me that’s a good trait of mine. I wish I could agree with them.

  “Julie, what the fuck?” My voice cuts through the cold wind as my car zips through the freeway. We’re headed back from the big party. My party, and my stupid sister is trying to wrap her mouth around my ex’s cock. He’s also my editor. Maybe I should’ve mentioned that sometimes I make some bad decisions. Even with the music playing at full volume, I can hear her jiggling his zipper and it's becoming harder and harder not to glance at her stupid bobbing head.

  “Your younger sister doesn't approve,” he moans, eyes closed, with the smug look only drunkenness could create. “What's the matter, babe? Don't be so uptight.”

  Fuck! I can't believe I dated this asshole. I can't believe I offered to give him a ride home. I can't believe my sister would do this to me. I’ve been sitting with them all night, watching them flirt, and all I want to do is to get him out of my life. It's not like I liked the guy. He was gross and incredibly boring. That's why we broke up in the first place. But now he’s really proving himself to be a stand-up guy.

  He didn't look so fucking smug when he was crying, begging me to stay with him.

  “Ugh. Gross.” The little laughing noises increase as he plays with the thick of her hair.