Second Down Love: A Second Chance Sports Romance

by Kara Hart

  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.

  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.

  Author’s Note:

  Thank you so much for reading Second Down Love! I’m a huge fan of Sports Romance and I really hope you enjoyed this one!

  Remember, to get for my weekly newsletter with discounts and free books, all you have to do is sign up here: Click Here!

  For all my new readers, I’ve included one book that I think you’ll enjoy, even if it’s a bit different. (Hint: It’s Mafia and SO HOT!) Continue on to read Hit It DEEP.

  Prologue

  Hunter

  They had me made. Right out of the gate, they had me bought and sold. So I gave them what they wanted. A show for all eyes to see…

  A hail of gunfire. A torrential downpour of bullet casings and smoke. They knew I'd be coming for them. I was set up as a fucking patsy. How could I be so damn stupid? How could I let them do me in like that? After all I gave them... My blood, sweat, and tears. My loyalty.

  It fell on deaf ears. I slipped out the back of the building, in between the fog and falling ashes. And I made them all disappear. Their voices were never heard again. Their bodies were found not too long after.

  I was gone, baby. Fucking gone. Just like that. A flickering flame against an ocean of water. Can you taste it? Did you see me coming for you?

  I'm a man to be feared. I'm a man who gets what he wants. If it's not given to me, you better believe I'll take it. Shit, don’t hate me. I’m just the messenger. If it wasn’t me, it would have been somebody else, right?

  I was on my way to being a kingpin. Until that path was stolen from me. Now, I'm a shadow in the dark. I'm the one thing in this world that'll turn an atheist into a devout believer. And I'm coming for them. I'm gunning them all down.

  * * *

  Bianca

  It's one funeral after another with these people. Being an Italian American was starting to feel like an embarrassment and a chore. Nearly all of our fathers and brothers have been shot down by the five families. And now my grandpa is among one of the casualties.

  It's not like I didn't see it coming. I saw it a million miles away. Only, he shouldn't have gotten such extre
me punishment. So much for honor. So much for loyalty. He didn't do anything wrong. He wasn't a saint by any means, but he wasn't an animal like the rest of them. He was just an honest shopkeeper.

  He always paid on time. He was always respectful. But when that young Michael "baby-faced" Tucciano demanded more, he stood up for himself. He told him to get the hell out of his store. And what did he get? A bullet to the head.

  So I sit with a bowed head in the pouring rain, listening to the priest read out of the Bible. But I can't help but think about how many more of our loved ones will be taken from us. We'll keep mourning and they'll keep firing, as the priests of the world absolve the wicked of all their sins.

  I can't sit back and watch this shit any longer. There's only so much a person can take before they decide to either fight back or run away. Well, I'm not a woman who runs. I'm staying and I'm protesting their world for the rest of my existence. It's either that, or I watch my father and my brother die off. They're already on the radar after they spoke on television after the crime. So I'm sticking by them.

  Bianca

  “They better believe we’re coming after them! This is the Luciotti family, God dammit!” My brother is drunk and it’s totally embarrassing. The funeral after party has turned into the meeting grounds for half-assed mobsters who wouldn’t take a stand if their mothers asked them to. I snort loudly and all eyes fall on me. Whoops.

  “What’s so fucking funny?” My cousin Ricky looks at me. I guess he’s like the Don of the family, but that doesn’t mean much to me. He’s still an idiot.

  I set my drink down and look at all of the sad and sorry-eyed lot. “You all claim the name Luciotti, as if it’s something to be proud of. The Luciotti family hasn’t done shit in over five years. No offense, but are you really going to take on New York’s biggest crime family?”

  They’re pissed. Great. I’ve pissed of my entire family. That includes my second cousins. It’s like everyone who’s talked to my grandpa once in their lives, has now decided that he’s actually important enough to honor. Italians and their big displays. Everyone came bearing massive flowers and a bottle of wine. But I know why they all really came. They all just want to get drunk and talk about business. They want to feel powerful again. Fucking pricks.

  “You, little missy, need to mind your own business. Where’s your father, huh?” He squeezes my cheek as if I’m seven again. I’m twenty-three. I think I can handle myself. Instead, I’m treated like a child when I’m around these patriarchal mamalukes. “Why don’t you go run off to your room. Let the men discuss business.”

  “Are you kidding, Ricky?” I stand up quickly, adrenaline flowing freely through my body. There’s nothing I hated more than being talked down to and I wasn’t about to let this loser tell me off. “Listen, you idiot. You barely even knew my grandpa, so I don’t even know why you’re here. Oh, right. To discuss business. That’s great. As for me, I actually loved the guy. But, sure, I’ll run off to my room and play with my dollies. Asshole.”

  All the men are staring at me. Tony Maccione, an old friend of my grandpa makes a noise like, “Whoa!” when I stand up. They’re not used to women taking charge. Well, buddy. Get used to it. This is the 21st century, not the 1800’s in Sicily.

  When I turn to walk off, my glass of red wine spills all over Ricky’s heather grey suit and I can tell he’s pissed to no end. Red flushes his cheeks and his teeth gnash together. He’s silent, but his breathing is heavy. I don’t get the problem. The suit looked bad anyway.

  “Come here for a second, doll,” he says to me, waving his fingers at me like I’m a dog or something. “I need to tell you something about respect.”

  I make a grossed out noise against my loud sigh. “No thanks, Ricky. Oh, by the way, everyone. Ricky hit on me at the Christmas party last year. Yeah, that’s right. He told me it wasn’t that weird for a Don to fuck his cousin,” I smile. “Do with that what you will. He’s not my problem anymore.”

  I walk off to my room, through the crowd of shocked Italian wives and angered husbands. If I was a man, they’d have my head in a bag by now. Whatever. The whole loyalty thing goes a bit too far when you can’t even speak up for yourself. All the women in the room were totally screwed by staying with these idiots.

  When I walk past the kitchen, there’s a man sitting within the crowd. His suit is black, his hair is slicked back, and he’s keeping to himself. He’s big in stature, as if he’s been working out in a prison yard for the last decade. His face is hardened, yet the gaze in his eyes is young. He’s around thirty, maybe thirty-five at the oldest. I can tell he’s gone through more than most in this room and that scares me. Who is he and what does he want with my family?

  When he looks up at me, fear flows through my spine. He nods, squints his eyes, and looks away, almost mechanically. It’s not long before he blends back into the crowd. I don’t know who he is, and yet I know everyone here. Everyone, but that man.

  I nearly run into my room and shut the door. Sure enough, minutes later there’s a hard knock on my door. I can feel my heart beating a million beats per second. My chest is caving in. I’m panicking, looking at my window. It’s my only escape. There are another three knocks on my door. Knock, knock, knock. And then the door knob twists and opens. Shit!

  “Bianca? Where’d you go? Are you in here?” Calm immediately washes over me when I hear the voice speaking. It’s my father, thank God. He walks in and shuts the door. “Bianca, there you are.”

  “Hey, Dad,” I sigh. “I’m sorry about Grandpa.”

  “It’s alright. It’s life,” he says, breathing in deep.

  I laugh awkwardly and say “Yeah, sure. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

  He nods. In the other room, I can hear Ricky screaming a joke loudly, being the center of attention like he always is. I met his brother once. His name was Lucas or something. He seemed much more reserved than Ricky. He was actually kind of nice.

  “How are you holding up?” he asks me. “You and Grandpa were always close.”

  I shrug, but a revealing tear lets him know that I am not okay. No, I’m a lot fucking less than okay. Still, I feel like I need to stay strong for my family. For my father. After all, it was his dad that died, not mine.

  “I’m just angry, you know? I can’t stand this mob bullshit. They all think they’re high and mighty, and they claim they’re all good Catholics. But what are they talking about out there? Revenge? How can you talk about killing someone when your own family member just got shot? I don’t get these people, Dad. I hate that I was born into this psychotic family.”

  My dad somehow laughs at this. He knows how crazy his family is, I guess. He’s the one that really grew up in it. I was always on the fringe, which allowed me to judge from afar. He was forced into it, making drug runs at a young age, until he asked to be let out to start the family exporting business. They agreed, so long as they got a cut of course.

  “I hate it too, honey,” he says, hugging me. “But please be careful. Some of these guys don’t know you. They’ll get the wrong idea.”

  I feel angered by this. I feel resentment even. “Fuck that! I should be allowed to say what’s on my mind. They shouldn’t always be able to minimize my feelings.”

  “Yeah, well. Some of these guys go way back, to the homeland,” he says.

  “The homeland?” I laugh. “Give me a break.”

  “Yes,” he whispers. “The fucking homeland. And some of these guys wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. Maybe they wouldn’t on you, but they sure as hell would on me. You want to upset the order? Become a lawyer already. Fight against the real crooks of the world. I understand your anger, Bianca. I’m just saying, be really careful how you respond to that anger.”

  We’ve had this type of talk too many times to count. When Mom died in high school, I pretty much gave up on my life. My grades started to fail, my social life went down the drain, and all I could think about was dying so I could spend just one second with her again. I
just wanted my mom back so badly. Dad knew how I felt. He was the one who fell in love with her. But he always told me, “You have to be careful how you respond to anger and pain. You can’t let them take control of you. If you do, Mom will really be gone forever.”

  “Ugh. I have to get out of this family,” I sigh. “I wasn’t joking about Ricky, you know. He came on to me last Christmas. He’s completely disgusting.”

  “I don’t doubt it, honestly. I’ve never liked the guy. Thing is, he’s running the family name into the ground. Good riddance, right?” he laughs. “I’ll talk to him, though. I’ll make sure he stops harassing you.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “I just needed to get it off my chest or something. Lately, I’ve just felt that—”

  Before I can even finish what I’m saying, I hear a loud bang go off outside. It sounds like a small explosion, almost like a tire popping on the side of the highway. “What the hell was that?” I ask, jumping up from my bed.

  My heart races and my skin turns icy. I’m freaking out. I fall back against the corner of my room and attempt to hide. This is not what I came back for. I don’t want to end up getting killed at my grandpa’s funeral. Outside, I hear loud commotion. Something falls and breaks. Footsteps are heard stomping on the wood floors. Muffled cries echo off the walls.

  He gets up and motions for me to stay back. “I don’t know, but stay here. Lock the door. I’m going out to check.”

  He opens the door slowly and peeks his head into the hallway. Screaming and crying filters through the hallway. Men are shouting and arguing, but there’s no more gunfire.

  “Everybody just stay where the fuck you are!” Ricky screams. “No one leaves this house! I want everyone just to sit and stay calm.”

  But no one listens to a word he says. A huge crowd simply runs out and Ricky is left scrambling to hold people inside. Finally, he takes out his gun and displays it high up in the air.