Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy)

by Michelle Betham

  ‘I never loved him the way I love you,’ Amber said quietly, glad of his arms pulling her closer against him as the cold breeze grew stronger, sending a sharp chill right through her. She wasn’t really dressed to be outdoors for long periods of time. ‘I thought I could, y’know? I thought I could, and then forgetting you would be so much easier…’

  ‘If I hadn’t come back, do you think you and Ryan would have had a future together?’ Jim asked, playing with the loose curls that hung around her bare shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, exhaling quickly as Jim’s fingers brushed against her skin, sending a welcoming warm shiver right through her. ‘I doubt it. But I don’t know.’

  ‘Are you glad I came back?’

  She looked at him, her face breaking into another smile, her fingers fiddling with the collar of his dark shirt. ‘Yeah. Of course I am. Now. But you better be good to me, Jim Allen. This time, you better be good to me because I can’t go through…’

  He shut her up with a kiss, a long, slow, deep kiss that seemed to wipe clean away any more thoughts of anything other than why she was here, with this man. Even the cold sea-breeze was having trouble bothering her now because all she could feel was his body against hers, his arms holding her tight.

  ‘So, you still wanna marry me, then?’ he asked, that warm, rich accent of his melting her heart, bringing back a million memories and the delicious promise of a million more to come.

  She smiled. ‘Well, let’s see… Amber Allen… it does have quite a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The warm May sunshine beat down on Amber’s face as she looked up at the bright, blue cloudless sky. It was a glorious day, and one Newcastle Red Star had been waiting for for as long as the club, and their supporters, could remember. There was no doubting how much of a success the club had become over the past few seasons, but one trophy had always eluded them – the league title. That prestigious accolade that put you right at the very top of the tree as far as English football was concerned. For too long that title had evaded them, been within their grasp only to slip away at the final hurdle, but now – now they had just one more game to play, one last game to win and the title would be theirs. They needed the three points a win would give them, a draw wouldn’t do. A draw would see them having to rely on other teams’ results going their way and nobody wanted that, so they were going all out that afternoon to win.

  Amber finished her cigarette and walked back inside Tynebridge, smiling as she looked down at the thin band of gold glinting on the third finger of her left hand. Mrs. Jim Allen. She was Mrs. Jim Allen, and for the past four months she’d been the happiest woman on earth. No argument. To finally be Jim’s wife was her dream come true, although it hadn’t come without its problems, once word had finally got out. Her father had only just come round to the idea, Kevin had sulked for almost a week after he found out, claiming she’d denied News North East their very own “happy ending” news story, although Amber thought there’d been more than enough news knocking around at the time to fill a multitude of shows, what with Ryan’s absence from the Red Star squad and the rumours of his visit to rehab. Which hadn’t stayed rumours for long. It had all come out, eventually, meaning that Kevin had finally got off her back and forgiven her for leaving him in the dark as far as her love life was concerned.

  ‘Do you fancy a drink before kick-off?’ Debbie asked, catching Amber as she walked through the main reception area.

  ‘I’m gonna go see Jim,’ Amber smiled. ‘Just to make sure he’s okay.’

  ‘Okay?’ Debbie frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t he be okay?’

  ‘He won’t thank me for telling you this, but he is incredibly nervous about this afternoon. It’s not that he doesn’t think the guys can do it, they can. He has every faith in them, and after the way they’ve been playing lately the title should be well within their grasp. It’s just that, he puts so much pressure on himself. So much pressure to succeed, and he’s always wanted this for Red Star. This title, this accolade. So, to be able to give it to them with him at the helm… He didn’t sleep much last night, let’s put it that way.’

  Debbie slipped her arm through Amber’s as they walked towards the Players Lounge. ‘I’m really glad you and Jim decided not to move to Spain,’ she smiled, leaning in towards her friend. ‘I mean, what would I have done without my closest girlfriend there at my wedding? You’re my Maid of Honour, I need you there.’

  ‘And I’m gonna be right by your side, kid.’ She squeezed Debbie’s arm. ‘It wasn’t the right time, to make that move. If Jim had taken the Malaga Athletico job it would have meant we were running away and although, at the time, it seemed like the perfect thing to do, it would’ve been a mistake. Everyone needed to face up to everything that had happened – both in the past, and the present. Besides, he loves this club far too much to sell them down the river. And look what he’s done for them? He’s got them right where they’ve always wanted to be. He’s about to make them champions. No, we’ll be sticking around for a while yet, don’t you worry.’

  ‘Good,’ Debbie said, planting a quick kiss on Amber’s cheek. ‘I’ll see you in a bit, then, up in the hospitality box. We can talk about my Hen Weekend to Lanzarote during half time.’

  Amber threw her a smile and left her at the door of the Players Lounge, continuing down the corridor to the dressing rooms, taking in the noise and the excitement of this incredibly important day in Newcastle Red Star’s history. The atmosphere was heady, the air thick with expectation, the noise coming from the Home Team dressing room loud and excitable. So no wonder Jim was nervous. He had a lot riding on this. He’d promised the fans victory, and if he didn’t deliver he wouldn’t be the only one who was disappointed.

  Tapping quietly on his office door, she gently pushed it open, peering inside. ‘Okay to come in?’ she asked, catching sight of him behind his desk.

  His face broke into a smile as he stood up and walked round the front of his desk. ‘Hey, baby.’ He opened his arms and she stepped inside, hugging him tight. ‘Oh, Jesus, you feel so good.’

  ‘Everything okay?’ Amber asked, pulling away slightly and looking up at him. His handsome face was a mask of worry, but she knew that the second he stepped outside of the office he’d show no outward signs of the anxiety he was currently feeling.

  ‘Everything’s fine, honey. I’m just… This is it, y’know? This is what this club has been waiting for, and it’s so close we can almost touch it… The guys are gonna do us proud this afternoon, I know they are.’

  She smiled, reaching up to gently stroke his rough chin with her fingertips. ‘I’m so proud of you, Jim. You’ve worked so hard to get this club where it is now. You’re a hero to those fans out there.’

  ‘Which is why we need to bring that title home, here to Tynebridge.’

  ‘Baby, even if it doesn’t happen you know you’ll still be their hero.’

  ‘Managers have lost their jobs over less, Amber.’

  ‘The board have just extended your contract, Jim. Last night. Why would they do that if they had any intention of sacking you? You’re not going anywhere, handsome. Except, maybe…’ She smiled, taking his hand and sliding it underneath her shirt, placing it over one of her breasts, ‘… inside me?’

  He smiled, too, running his thumb over her nipple until it became hard beneath his fingers. ‘Jesus, you kill me, baby. You fucking kill me.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ she whispered, standing on tiptoe so her mouth barely touched his. ‘I just thought you might need a little bit of stress relief, that’s all. Something to calm you down before the game. But, I can always go away…’

  ‘Hey, little lady. You ain’t going anywhere. Get back here.’ He pulled her against him, kissing her long and slow. ‘You taste so good,’ he groaned, pulling her shirt out of her jeans and pushing it back off her shoulders. ‘So, so good.’

  ‘That’s why you married me,’ Amber smiled, unfastening hi
s belt. ‘Come on. We haven’t got much time before they start looking for you.’

  He turned her round and lifted her up onto his desk, pulling down her jeans and sliding her underwear off, throwing it aside. With one swift movement he’d spread her legs and pushed inside her, causing Amber to moan out loud before slapping a hand over her own mouth, realising that making too much noise would only draw unwanted attention they didn’t need. They wanted to be left alone for just a few more minutes and, after all, she was doing this for the good of the club, wasn’t she? A calm Jim Allen meant he’d go out there and make sure those lads played to the best of their ability before her handsome husband brought home the rewards this club deserved.

  Placing her hands palm down on the desk behind her, Amber arched her back, pushing against him as he thrust deeper into her, his face buried in her shoulder to muffle his own groans. He was once again filling her up with every inch of him, taking her over, making her crazy for those few, beautiful minutes he was inside of her. This man had been her dream, her fantasy for over twenty years and now he was a reality she never wanted to let go of. History was not going to repeat itself, not this time. Not ever. And she’d do her utmost to make sure of that.

  *

  ‘You look a bit flushed,’ Ronnie said, looking at Amber out the corner of his eye as she joined him in the hospitality box where a group of them were watching the game. Even though she’d much rather have been watching it down in the stands with the real fans. ‘You alright?’

  ‘Of course I’m alright. Where’s Karen?’

  ‘She’s over there.’ He indicated to the other side of the box, where Karen was deep in conversation with Debbie. ‘Wedding talk.’

  Amber smiled. ‘You nervous? About going for it a second time?’

  He shook his head, taking a long sip of lager. ‘I’m actually quite excited about it. We’ve experienced the pitfalls, made the mistakes, so maybe this time we’ll get it right.’

  ‘I really hope so, Ronnie. You deserve to be happy.’

  He looked at her, and for a couple of seconds neither of them said anything. ‘I’m happy, kiddo,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m happy.’

  She smiled again, looking over at her dad who was talking to another ex-Red Star player whom Ronnie worked with on a regular basis in his TV work. ‘It’s all coming together, isn’t it? For everybody. You and Karen getting married next month, then Debbie and Gary in July…’ She broke off mid-sentence as the stadium erupted behind her and she swung round to see the Red Star squad run out onto the pitch. Jim walked slowly out of the tunnel after them, looking relaxed and calm with his suit jacket off and his white shirt-sleeves rolled up, hands in his pockets, aviator shades covering his eyes as the sun continued to beat down on a taut and expectant Tynebridge. Even from a distance he could make her heart skip and her stomach somersault an infinite number of times.

  ‘Honeymoon period still alive and kicking, then?’ Ronnie asked, rubbing the small of her back in an almost absent-minded action.

  She turned back to face him. ‘Yeah. It is.’ Just the word “honeymoon” made her stomach flip over again as she thought about the belated one she and Jim had yet to take in a couple of weeks, when the present season came to an end and the summer break loomed large. Jim hadn’t told her where they were going yet – it was a surprise. But wherever it was, she couldn’t wait to get there, to finally have her man all to herself for a blissful few days. She knew they’d probably have paparazzi trying to capture their every move but she didn’t care anymore. If these past few months had taught her anything it was that there are some things you just can’t fight.

  ‘It’s all gonna be okay,’ she said quietly, looking back outside as the squad warmed up on the pitch, Jim standing in front of the dugout, issuing orders, waving his arms about to gain players’ attention. ‘Finally. It’s all gonna be okay.’

  *

  Ryan turned his head and kissed the captain’s armband that took pride of place on his upper left arm as the crowd went wild. If Tynebridge had had a roof it would have lifted off by now with the sheer noise that reverberated around the stadium. Newcastle Red Star were Premier League Champions, top of the tree, the best of the best. They’d finished the season at the very top of their game, as had he. He couldn’t deny the past few months had been shaky, to say the least, before descending into a darkness he didn’t ever want to experience again. But he’d come through the other side a stronger, tougher man. More determined than ever to concentrate on his game and become the footballer he’d always dreamed of being because, until now, he’d only ever really been half that man.

  His month-long stint in a rehab clinic in the West Country had been hard, because, in the beginning he hadn’t really accepted that he needed the help they were offering him. But one day something had just clicked, a voice inside his head telling him to get a grip or he was going to lose it all, and if Ryan Fisher was one thing it was a fighter. So he’d fought – the addictions, the depression, he’d fought it all. And he’d finally won, arriving back at Tynebridge a player to be reckoned with. He had a lot to thank the club for. They’d stood by him, supported him, gave him anything and everything he’d needed to get back on track and back out on that pitch. Especially Jim Allen. Was that because of Amber? Maybe. Did it matter? No. He was back, and that was all that really mattered.

  He couldn’t lie and say that it had been easy, coming back to a club where the main topic of conversation was his boss’s secret wedding to Amber, but he was able to deal with things in a way he hadn’t been able to before. This time he didn’t feel the need to forget by drinking himself into oblivion or picking up the first woman who threw themselves at him for a meaningless fuck that he hoped would wipe away things he didn’t want to think about, things he was too weak or too frightened to face up to. He wasn’t saying he was a saint, far from it. He’d just grown up a bit, learnt to control his life in a more adult fashion.

  And now he was experiencing the very thing playing this game was all about – that incredible buzz, that overwhelming feeling of achievement players got from knowing they’d just taken their club to the highest level. He could have lost this. He could have. But he hadn’t. He was here, wearing the captain’s armband, and that spoke volumes as to how this club felt about him. He owed them, big time. And next season he’d show them the kind of player he could really be.

  ‘What a fucking day, man,’ Gary said, running over to Ryan and jumping on his back, giving him the kind of manly, celebratory hug players gave each other in situations such as this. ‘You played a blinder out there. Four frigging goals, Jesus, you were on fire!’

  Ryan shrugged him off before grabbing him round the neck and pulling him in for another of those manly hugs. ‘It’s what I do, mate. Ryan Fisher, goal machine.’

  ‘And so humble with it.’

  Ryan grinned, letting go of Gary, looking over at the rest of his team-mates as they ran around the pitch in a lap of honour, although it was about the tenth time round for most of them. Nobody really wanted a day like this to end. This was the kind of high that everybody loved, the kind of high that players craved; the only kind of high Ryan needed now.

  He looked over at the dugout. Even Colin was grinning away, that was how good a day this was. Their coach rarely cracked a smile most days so to see him looking positively gleeful was an experience. But he couldn’t stop his stomach from taking a dip he couldn’t avoid as he saw Amber run out of the tunnel, flinging herself at her new husband – his boss. He watched as Jim caught her in his arms, swinging her up and around, both of them laughing until he put her back down. He watched as Jim kissed her, a kiss that Ryan didn’t really want to watch but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one to notice it as wolf-whistles and cheers emanated loudly from certain parts of the stadium. It was difficult to watch, because nobody had said forgetting her would be easy. Or was it forgetting what they could have had that was the difficult part? He wasn’t sure. He ju
st knew that she looked happy, and that made him happy, too. She never really had deserved someone like him. Not the way he had been, anyway.

  ‘Looking forward to the party tonight, then?’ Gary’s voice broke into Ryan’s thoughts and he turned to look at his friend.

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, of course I am. We’ve got shit-loads to celebrate, after all. It’s gonna be a blinder of a night.’

  ‘You got that right,’ Gary grinned, following Ryan’s gaze as he looked back over at Amber and Jim. ‘You okay, mate?’

  Ryan smiled, grabbing Gary again as they ran towards the tunnel, ready for the onslaught of post-match interviews that awaited them. And, boy, was he ready for them! He was on top of the world, and he wanted the world to know that.

  And then he saw her. Ellen. The beautiful Ellen, the first girl he’d bedded on his arrival here in the North East. Little, timid, PR girl Ellen – until he’d got her into bed, that is, and then a wild side you wouldn’t know existed to look at her had been unleashed. And he’d never called her back? Never tried to have another go and see just how far he could really push her? Jesus! She worked here, and yet he’d never made an attempt to go there again? Still, no time like the present. ‘I’m fine, mate,’ Ryan replied, his attention now focused solely on making sure Ellen noticed him. ‘I’m just fine.’

  Her eyes finally met his and she smiled at him. A smile that carried more than a simple ‘hello, it’s been a while’, and Ryan got the message loud and clear. She bore no grudges. She seemed quite happy to rekindle whatever it was they’d enjoyed all those months ago when he’d arrived at Tynebridge the new boy with a hell of a lot to learn. Quiet little Ellen, in her smart skirt and blouse, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail – she promised everything and more that Ryan had been missing lately.

  He grinned at her, walking backwards down the tunnel so he could keep eye contact as long as possible, make sure she got a message back that she understood. Oh yes. This day was just getting better, leaving him with no doubt in his mind now – Ryan Fisher was back!