by Taylor Hart
Hail Mary
Book 8 Last Play Romance Series
Taylor Hart
All rights reserved.
© 2017 ArchStone Ink
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.
First eBook Edition: 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation 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.
Contents
Introduction
Free Last Play Romance
Also by Taylor Hart
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
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
Free Last Play Romance
Also by Taylor Hart
Sneak Peak The Lone Star Groom
About the Author
Introduction
Greetings fellow readers,
My mother has always said that a girl who makes a handful of true friends in her lifetime should consider herself extremely lucky, for friends are rare jewels that should always be cherished. I consider Taylor Hart to be one of those rare jewels and am grateful to call her a friend. Taylor never meets a stranger and has the remarkable ability to brighten a room with her smile. I love how vibrant and rich the world looks through Taylor’s eyes. She’s a wonderful author who inspires and encourages me as we continue down our lifelong path of writing.
That’s why I’m pleased to introduce Hail Mary. This was an exceptional book! I was drawn in from the first page and read it one sitting. I loved Logan's character arc and how his memory loss transformed him and opened his heart to Paris and rekindled their relationship. I found myself laughing and crying with them as their journey unfolded. This one's a keeper! I highly recommend it!
Pull up a comfy chair and get ready to be swept away in Logan and Paris’s story!
All of my best,
Jennifer Youngblood
Bestselling Author of The Perfect Catch
Check out Jennifer’s Amazon Author Page HERE
Free Last Play Romance
You can get a free copy of The Rookie, A Last Play Romance by clicking here.
As an added bonus, you’ll also receive updates when the next Taylor Hart Romance is released so you don’t miss out on one of these sweet romances.
Also by Taylor Hart
Bachelor Billionaire Romances
The Country Groom
The Unfinished Groom
The Barefoot Groom
The Masquerading Groom
The Christmas Groom
Rescue Me: Park City Firefighter Romance (A Bachelor Billionaire Companion)
The Lost Groom
The Undercover Groom
The Last Play Series
Last Play
The Rookie
Just Play
A Player for Christmas
Second String
End Zone
Hail Mary
Snow Valley Series
A Christmas in Snow Valley: The Christmas Eve Kiss
Summer in Snow Valley: First Love
Spring in Snow Valley: The Bet
Chapter 1
Logan easily maneuvered through the offense as he faked a throw to the running back. Seeing a hole in the defense, he literally jumped over the linebacker coming for him—flat out hurdled him—and took off down the field, all the way to the end zone. As he spiked the ball and did a ridiculous amount of showboating, he heard his coaches laughing.
His teammate, Sean, chest-bumped him. “Wish that had been during an actual game, not just a scrimmage, Wolf.”
Ever since the new Logan movie hit the big screens, his fans had begun calling him that nickname. Did it hurt his feelings? Heck no. Hugh Jackman was just like Logan—awesome! Logan ripped off his helmet and walked toward the sidelines as the other players on his scrimmage team patted him on the back. “Oh, it’ll be during a game, I guarantee that!” he pronounced with all the cockiness he could muster. What was the point of being the best quarterback that California Wave had ever hired, if he couldn’t boast now and again?
The coach let out a sigh and gave Logan a knowing grin. “Boy, we know what you can do, but help us get the plays down, would you?”
Even though Coach Joe sounded disappointed, Logan could see he was secretly proud. “Okay, coach.” What he really meant was, I’ll kind of do whatever I want. It was June and all the pressure was off.
“Logan!”
His attention was diverted to the side of the field, where he saw Kim rushing toward him in large, chunky high heels and a zebra-print tight dress. He braced himself. He didn’t want to really deal with her at the moment. Yes, he was engaged and marrying her in less than three weeks, but it’d been brutal being part of the wedding planning, especially since she was such a popular vlogger. Every part of their lives was recorded and he always felt he had to put on a show. Usually, he didn’t mind it—he even relished the attention most of the time—but lately he’d been having dreams about the past that left him a bit unsettled. He tried to ignore her and turned to the coach. “Next play, let’s go.”
The coach stared at him, then turned to see Kim coming their way. “Mercy, give us a break, woman,” he muttered, and stared at his playbook.
Sean sensed his angst. “Come on, guys, out on the field!”
They hustled back out, and he heard the coach call forty-six defense into his earpiece.
“Logan! Now!” Kim yelled, but he was surrounded by his guys, using them as shelter.
Humphrey, one of the new running backs, who was playing on the other scrimmage team, swaggered over and glared at him. “Dude, control your woman before she controls you.”
How dare Humphrey challenge him? He was a new pick from draft day who thought he could stand here and question Logan. He knew it was just to tick him off and make a show of power, but it still made his blood boil. Logan pulled back from the huddle, took off his helmet, and called out as he turned to Kim. “Kim, sweetheart, come here!”
Kim’s perfectly red lips stretched into a huge smile and she started prance-running onto the field, holding out her phone to record herself and then him. “My baby in action.”
With all her attention being focused on her phone instead of where she was going, Logan easily caught her before she could crash into him. She turned in his arms and kissed him, sloppy and dramatic.
He could hear Humphrey booing them, and he allowed himself a smug grin. Righting her, he turned to the camera and yelled out in a wolf call. It was his thing, his signature, what all the fans would do when he would throw a winning touchdo
wn.
Kim laughed hysterically and did her own, off-key version of the wolf call, still focusing on her phone. She took her vlog seriously. “He’s crazy, you guys!”
Logan flashed a smile and took off back to the huddle. Pride blazed through him when he saw Humphrey’s angry face. That’s right, who was the boss out here? He was! With a bit of a swagger, Logan gave instructions to his scrimmage team, and they dispersed into action.
What Logan hadn’t anticipated was that Humphrey would break formation from the other team and start bearing down upon him. In the split second before Humphrey slammed into him, Logan thought about his latest dream, the one where he and Paris were swimming in the lake when they were sixteen.
The momentum of Humphrey hitting him kinked his head in just a way that he could feel a pinch in his neck right before he was slammed onto his back, knocking the wind out of him. His helmet went flying.
Everything went hazy, and only one image followed him into unconsciousness—her face.
Chapter 2
Paris Ford stared at her work television. Her assistant, Michelle, had dragged her to it at lunchtime to stare at Paris’s ex-boyfriend taking the hit that had put him into a coma. Her insides had gone gooey as she stared at the scrolling news across the top and bottom of the screen and tried to listen to what the sportscaster was saying.
“Logan Slade has now been in a coma since the spring training scrimmage this morning, folks.” The sportscaster frowned. “Last year was a building year for the California Wave, and the owners thought they would draft a few key players to build a number one team. Bogart Humphrey was one of them, but rumors say there’d been some bad blood between Humphrey and Slade since the draft. Owners and fans alike are starting to wonder if they’ll even have a decent team this year.
“Of course, the real tragedy is Logan Slade, an all-star quarterback out of UC Berkeley, who was drafted to the Wave three years ago and clearly had more talent than this team could keep up with. And rumors are that his fiancée—” A picture of Kim Turner flashed on the screen, wearing a zebra-print halter top dress, blonde hair pulled up, with the reddest, tackiest lipstick Paris had ever seen. “—is devastated and has promised to keep everyone up to date on her vlog.”
Michelle, who tended to be a bit on the pop culture junkie side, let out a sigh. “Will this affect our All-Stars Event?”
It would be hard to explain to anyone how mixed Paris’s feelings were at this moment. Logan Slade had been more than her ex-boyfriend. That made it sound so trite. No, Logan Slade had been everything. Breathless and dizzy, she stumbled, dropped the file in her hands, and grasped at the back of a chair. “Logan.”
Logan was an integral part of the event her company had been commissioned to plan and execute the past two years, which some social media outlets had termed the Billionaire Boy Event of Jackson. Logan, a Jackson native, had contracted with her company two years ago to organize the event, bringing together the best of Jackson to fundraise for a couple of different world-changing organizations: autism, human trafficking, funds for babies born in other countries who needed surgeries …
The sportscaster continued. “But Logan did say one last thing before he went into the coma, leaving all of his teammates confused, and especially his fiancée, Kim.” The television cut back to Logan’s face as he sprawled on the ground, football helmet off. Paris could tell it was a phone that videoed this segment, because the frame was shaky.
Kim leaned over him, sobbing. “Logan? Logan?” she pleaded, tears leaking down her cheeks.
Logan’s eyes flashed opened, and he muttered, “Paris.”
The blood in Paris’s veins turned to ice. She swayed woozily.
Michelle grabbed her arm. “Whoa, sugar, I guess he hasn’t forgotten about you after all.”
Paris’s mouth felt dry as she tried to cover up her stumble. She stood and shrugged away from Michelle, forcing herself to breathe. “I’m fine. It’s …” What was it? Of course she was worried, even though she felt stupid for it. Obviously, she wasn’t the zebra-print dress fiancée on the television. She wasn’t anything to Logan Slade anymore, hadn’t even talked to him since her mother’s funeral two years ago. She shook her head and bent to retrieve her file, noting the newscaster had gone on to other stories. “I’ll be in my office, Michelle.”
Michelle gave her a top-to-bottom look, catching on. The past year had been a hard year. Divorcing Shane and juggling custody of their five-year-old had been the toughest thing Paris had ever done. Michelle had been babying her for far too long.
Michelle waved her on and turned to pick up the remote, turning the television off. “Let’s get back to work, people. The biggest social event in Jackson Hole doesn’t get planned with us standing around. We are six days away from All-Stars! Chop-chop!”
Paris shut the office door behind her and sucked in another long breath. Tears welled in her eyes as she frantically went to her computer and googled Logan, something she had forced herself not to do the past couple of years. She had to see the coverage. She had to know what the prognosis was. Of course, a YouTube video popped up with Kim’s face. Kim Turner, not content with mere movie stardom, had taken it upon herself to record every intimate detail of their lives.
Paris scrolled through the search results, but didn’t see anything about the prognosis. Was he okay? Reluctantly, she clicked on the most recent video from Kim, showing her sitting next to his hospital bed, sobbing, telling the audience she didn’t know what she would do; they were supposed to be married and he was the man she wanted to spend her life with. Then the video cut to shots of the cake, dresses, and table china that would be displayed at the wedding.
Paris shut her laptop. Sitting back in her chair, she closed her eyes and played “Symphony No. Five” by Beethoven in her mind. Keeping her eyes closed, she held up her hands and air-played it. Since the time she was three and started playing the piano, she’d found that the classics soothed her the most.
She thought of her son, Ty, and her stomach jumped into her throat. She had to pick him up from kindergarten today. Grabbing her keys and purse, she reminded herself that her relationship with Logan Slade had been over a long time ago. He might have whispered her name, but that meant nothing.
Chapter 3
To say that Logan was surprised when he woke up to see the face of a woman he didn’t recognize would be like saying a magnitude-seven earthquake was a little rumble. Especially since the woman grabbed his head and squished it into her chest. “Oh my gosh, he’s awake! George! Get the doctor!”
Logan squeezed his eyes closed, hoping the hazy feeling would clear if he just kept them shut for a second.
Three different doctors hovered around him, doing tests and asking him a battery of questions. Some of the answers he knew, others he didn’t.
The worst part was when he was asked anything pertaining to the woman next to him. She burst out crying: “Oh, Logan, oh, Logan, baby, I can’t believe you don’t know me.” One of the women doctors escorted her out, which relieved Logan, and they got back to running tests.
Logan was scared. Not scared like he needed to run away. More like a nervousness that he didn’t understand. “Where’s Paris?” he asked several times. “Or Shane? I want to talk to my dad.”
One of the men there, George, identified himself as his agent. Like football agent?
This news made Logan jittery. “I have an agent?” he laughed, dumbfounded.
The doctors and George told him he’d played football at Cal a couple of years with Shane Hadley.
George said to Logan, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you some answers. Let’s just get through the tests.”
Logan buckled down and observed, feeling antsy. If his life had taught him anything, it was better to listen and watch. He gathered he played for the California Wave now, which felt weird, but made him proud. He’d been hit during a scrimmage game and been in a coma for a little over twelve hours.
In the corner, a doctor whispered to
George. “Sometimes people don’t remember things when they want to repress something.”
“How could he not want to remember?” George asked. “He’s twenty-six and at the top of his professional career. His life is pretty good.”
He was twenty-six years old?
When the doctor and his agent had incessantly quizzed him, he scrambled to remember even that much. “I can’t remember anything since the huddle the night of the state championship game.”
“The state game?” the doctor repeated, looking blank.
“My high school state game. The one I was playing just a few minutes ago.”
George, his supposed agent, frowned. “How old were you then, son?”
Logan’s mouth felt dry. “Eighteen. A senior in high school.”
After more than an hour of drawing blood, a million more questions about his life, and running him through a battery of physical tests, Logan grew even more frustrated. “No more,” he said, after the doctor showed him current dates on a newspaper and how the latest version of his iPhone worked.
He stood. “Get me Paris, please.” If he knew one thing in his whole life, it was that no matter what had happened, she would be there.
The doctors and his agent left the room, looking concerned.
