Player Substitution

by Kristen Echo

  PLAYER SUBSTITUTION

  A Holiday Sports Romance

  Puck Battle Series

  By: Kristen Echo

  Player Substitution

  Puck Battle Series

  Copyright © 2017 by Kristen Echo and Kristen Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the above copyright owner of this book or publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Website: http://www.echoromance.com

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorkristenecho/

  eBook ISBN:978-0-9952712-1-0

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SNEAK PEEK

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Life rarely turns out as expected. Miranda Radcliff dreamed of becoming a mother. Of holding a precious little bundle in her arms and loving him or her unconditionally. That was the job she coveted most. Instead, she was a waitress in the same retro fifties styled diner she’d been working at since she was a teenager. She had zero prospects for fulfilling her lifelong dream. That wasn’t always the case.

  “Table 2 needs a refill,” Carly said, walking by with a tray full of dirty dishes.

  Miranda was slacking, and her poor co-worker, Carly, was dealing with the brunt of her laziness. The diner where they worked was decorated for holidays; covered with colorful garland and tinsel. On each table was a snow globe with a miniature Christmas tree inside. This retro setting had been her home away from home for as long as she could remember. For the past two days, she’d practically moved in because her life was in complete shambles.

  Leaning against the bright white counter, she looked up at the ceiling. The owners had painted a mural of iconic couples. Just like the mural colored long ago, those love stories stood the test of time. Reminding the world of the simplicity of a time past but never forgotten. These colorful portraits taunted her.

  She’d once thought her relationship would be everlasting like the mural, but she had been wrong.

  “Earth to Miranda, come on, girl. I need you to at least go around the room and top up coffees. The lunch rush is almost over, but I’m in the weeds here. Please,” Carly begged for help which was something she never did. The eighteen-year-old looked as wholesome as a glass of milk, but she was tough as nails.

  “Sorry, I’m on it.” She pushed off the counter and got to work.

  Miranda went around the diner with a full carafe. Keeping busy helped push the pain away. When she stopped for too long, the memories invaded and she’d get angry all over again. Furious with her husband for putting her through this and pissed off at herself for not seeing the warning signs. People didn’t cheat out of the blue, there were usually reasons. But she hadn’t seen his affair coming. She still couldn’t believe he’d strayed from their marital bed.

  Crap-apples!

  She’d been lost in her inner turmoil and spilled hot coffee all over a table. The brown liquid dripped onto the black and white checkered floor, making an even bigger mess. The story of her life; one big giant mess.

  “I’m really sorry,” she apologized to the customers and raced to the kitchen for some rags.

  If she didn’t pull it together soon, Mr. Richardson would be forced to fire her. The man who resembled a younger Saint Nick would send her on her way regardless of the holidays. Fourteen years of loyal service didn’t mean jack if she kept forgetting orders and screwing up. It didn’t matter that Christmas was only a week away. Being a hot mess was bad for business.

  She hurried back and cleaned up the spill. Luckily, the customers were a bunch of regulars and they didn’t give her too much grief. Once the area was cleaned, she helped Carly finish serving the remaining tables.

  It took every ounce of willpower not to breakdown and cry when she spotted a young couple kissing by the door. They looked so in love and happy; the opposite of how she felt. She blinked away the moisture, or at least she tried.

  “All right, spill it. Something is eating you alive and I’m dying to know what.” Carly only worked part-time at the diner while going to university in the city. This was the first time she’d seen her since the dark clouds settled over her life, completely blocking out the sun.

  A good wife should keep her husband’s secret, right? Keep all the problems to herself but Miranda had spent too much time trapped in her own head. She trusted Carly and needed to gain perspective. Staying quiet wasn’t doing her any favors.

  “My marriage is over.” Those words felt like acid on her tongue.

  Carly raised a brow and frowned. “Chuck adores you, and you love him more than I love chocolate; which is next to impossible.” She chuckled at her comparison, and Miranda managed a tentative smile.

  The girl had an unhealthy addiction, but maintained a rocking body all the same. An hourglass figure, with nice high breasts, a slim waist, and enough curves to fill her jeans right. Must be something in the country water where she was from. Carly ate non-stop junk food and didn’t gain an ounce. Their body types were similar except Miranda watched what she ate like a hawk and walked miles on her treadmill.

  She suspected her friend buried her troubles in food. Something Miranda’s metabolism couldn’t do now that she entered her thirties. Her co-worker had been through something major. It was written in her eyes and her posture, but Carly kept her secrets close to her heart and buried under a pile of sass.

  “He cheated on me with some puck bunny bimbo.” That he cheated hurt, and it happened the one time she didn’t make it to his hockey game. She always watched him play. Miranda loved hockey, and Chuck never looked hotter than when he was all decked out in his gear.

  Carly’s brown eyes got huge and she spit her sip of iced tea back into her glass. “What! No way.”

  That had been her initial reaction too. Disbelief. Charles Radcliff had been her first love before she even knew what love was. He was her first everything, and she thought he would be her only. She had thought wrong, and that stung.

  “It happened after his game the other night. The one I missed because Dotty got the runs and didn’t show up for work. The game I thought he wouldn’t go to because he had dental surgery that morning. Yeah well, he played and never came home that night. The next morning, he showed up, looking like death warmed over and spilled the beans. He alleges he can’t remember what happened. Swears he only had a few beers, but he knew he messed up when he woke up and saw a bunch of used condom wrappers strewn across the hotel room floor and a naked woman lying next to him in bed. He—” Miranda teared up and no amount of sniffling could hold the fountain back.

  “He’s a royal scumbag. I hope you kicked him out.” Her distain wasn’t a surprise, Carly had been cheated on. Even though Chuck was an amazing man, his actions made him no better than Carly’s ex.

  She wiped away a stray tear. “He’s staying with his mom. Which is a cruel and unusual punishment. But he needs to suffer more. Can you believe, he said he still wants me? Wants our marriage to work even after what he did. Says he’s devastated and never set out to hurt me. I am hurt though an
d don’t know what to do. I never expected something like this to happen.” Miranda couldn’t make heads or tails of her life anymore, and having Chuck gone wasn’t helping.

  His mother lived in a retirement village in the city with five cats. The one-bedroom apartment barely fit her and her stuff. A compulsive hoarder by nature, she was eccentric and getting worse with each passing year, but she had a heart of gold, like her son.

  Carly jumped off the vintage red vinyl stool she’d been sitting on and hugged Miranda. “He doesn’t deserve you. I mean, look at you. You’re smoking hot with all that natural blonde hair and big hazel eyes. To top that off, you are the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

  That was the problem, she had become a doormat. Chuck knew he could get away with murder around her, but he rarely tested her limits. Three years of marriage and she still loved him to pieces. The sun rose and set around him. Sick but true.

  “I hate to say this but you need to be done with him. He’s cheated before, and he’s bound to cheat again. How many times will you let him hurt you?” Carly was fuming, her cheeks were red and fists clenched by her side. Chuck had never cheated on her but now wasn’t the time to correct her friend.

  “I don’t know,” Miranda answered honestly.

  She couldn’t just stop loving him because he screwed up, could she?

  As much as the image of him with another girl tormented her. The thought of not seeing him again was far worse. An image of him waiting for her at the end of the altar flashed before her. He wore a tailored black tux, which clung to his broad build, making him look wider than a bulldozer. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled across his forehead. His green eyes shone with love as she walked towards him. He told her she took his breath away, but he did the same to her. Most handsome brute on the planet, and he was hers. They promised to be together till death do they part.

  “We made vows,” she said under her breath.

  He wasn’t holding up his end of the deal. Miranda looked wistfully at the mural, causing her heart to hurt. She rubbed her hand over her chest absentmindedly. He was her other half. Those vows mattered a great deal to her.

  “Screw this, I’m not letting you take his lying, cheating, good for nothing, piece of shit back into your house.” Carly had a great deal of bitchy sauce running through her veins. She also had a brilliant mind. Something Miranda wouldn’t discount. Carly was studying to become a scientist, and one day she was going to cure a disease. If she could rid the world of cancer, surely, she could find the cure for a cheating husband.

  The hurt had been clouding her judgment. Carly was partly right. Miranda had to do something. But she was also wrong, thinking Chuck had cheated twice. Mrs. Dotty Richardson had a big mouth, and loved to dish the dirt. That was her only explanation for why Carly would say such a thing. It wasn’t true, but she wasn’t in the mood to correct history. She had more pressing matters to tend to.

  “I have no intention of letting him get away with this, but I don’t think I can walk away either.” If she wouldn’t live without him, then she needed to move past this. “Summon your inner she-devil and help me figure out what to do. Please, tell me what you would do.”

  “You know I love you, but cheating is unforgivable. My first love broke my heart and acted like it was no big deal when he fucked around. I tried to get over it, but taking him back was a mistake. Once that trust is broken it’s impossible to get back. I’m not saying this to hurt you. Chuck did a fine job of that on his own. The best revenge is moving on.”

  The word revenge struck a chord. “That’s all true. Tell me more about revenge. What would you suggest for payback?”

  “Girl, I have no idea. Go online and search retribution and see what you come up with. Off the top of my head, if you’re interested in an eye for an eye, then sleep with someone else. Teach him that two can play that game. Hit him where it hurts. Chuck loves hockey; do something hockey related. I can see your wheels turning, and I didn’t think you had a mean bone in your body. But looks like you’ve been pushed far enough to reach your inner bitch.” The bell on the door chimed, interrupting their conversation. “I’ll take the table while you relax. I’ve got your back.” Carly patted her on the shoulder and walked towards a table of new customers.

  Her friend had a serious case of bitterness, but that was perfect. Miranda needed to hear those ideas, and they were great. Carly might have been joking, but it wasn’t a laughing matter to Miranda. Her marriage depended on getting even the right way, and a devious plan was hatched.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The sun had set and the winter skies were dark, matching Miranda’s disposition. She left work early at Carly and Mr. Richardson’s insistence. They heard no protest from her; she was a walking zombie. The numbness faded to anger, and she hoped to channel that emotion before the sadness set in.

  The drive down the back roads towards her home didn’t hold the usual appeal. Seeing her husband after a long and grueling shift never failed to put a smile on her face. One kiss had the power to make even the worst day better. Except a kiss wouldn’t solve her current dilemma. No matter how good it would feel, or how much she craved the connection.

  She had nothing and no one to rush home to. The dark, empty house held no appeal. A depressing reality that hurt more given the time of year. The twinkling Christmas lights on the houses she drove past couldn’t brighten her mood. Her favorite holiday was days away, and the last thing she wanted to do was celebrate.

  The talk with Carly hadn’t exactly gone as expected. Miranda hoped for clarity and direction by spilling her guts to her friend, but her brain still resembled a hodgepodge of thoughts and ideas. Carly was adamant, the only solution was to kick Chuck to the curb and toss three years of wedded bliss and near two decades of love in the garbage.

  Infidelity was impossible to comprehend because Chuck loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her. There was never anyone else for him, and he told her so constantly. He never even looked at other women the way most men did. It made little sense, so how could she throw away a lifetime of happiness on something unexplainable? Miranda wasn’t prepared to go there.

  Another option was revenge. Even the score and hurt Chuck like he’d hurt her. Miranda didn’t know how one would go about getting tit for tat in a situation like hers. The notion of retaliation was foreign to her; she’d never needed to use such drastic measures. Never had to be the person who deliberately set out to hurt another. The concept gave her chills.

  She wasn’t sure what to do about her marriage. The only thing she knew without a shadow of doubt was she loved Chuck, and despite his indiscretion, he loved her too. Unfortunately, that didn’t forgive his actions. The why nagged at her. People didn’t cheat out of the blue.

  Carly’s advice was a hard pill to swallow. Miranda wasn’t sure she had the stomach for either option.

  As she pulled onto the mile-long driveway, she noticed the lights were on at the house. A string of white flashing lights illuminated the front porch of their ranch style bungalow. That was odd considering she had turned them off before she left for work. Nearing the house, she noticed her husband’s truck parked in its spot furthest from the front door. Miranda got the prime parking inside the detached two-car garage because Chuck spoiled her. There also wasn’t enough room for his truck with all of his tools scattered about.

  She readied herself for a confrontation, but she wasn’t ready to face him yet. A few days wasn’t enough time to dull the ache or process what he’d done. As she marched towards the front steps, she resented his presence. Fumed at his lack of sensitivity. He was rushing her, and backing her into a corner. If he pushed his luck; he wouldn’t like the outcome.

  The wreath on the door had been a Christmas present from Chuck’s mother their first year as a married couple. It was ugly and tacky with a large shiny sequined pink sash across the center, but Miranda loved it. His mother made it herself with love and the couple displayed it proudly every year since.

 
Her heart constricted, would this be the last year it hung on her door?

  There was only one way to find out. She opened the front door and entered her home. The heat and scent of basil and tomatoes greeted her. Her mouth watered, but it had nothing to do with the Italian feast cooking in her kitchen. Chuck was shirtless, on his knees and holding a bouquet of red long-stemmed roses.

  He looked damn good, and sexier than he had a right to given the circumstances. His muscles bulged and glistened with a sheen of moisture. Any other night, she would have tackled him to the floor and made love to him right there on the hard-wood floor. If he thought he was getting sex, he could think again. But seeing those firm pecks and tiny erect nipples made her panties wet.

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered, betraying her desire.

  He shuffled closer on his knees. “I missed you. Being away from you is fucking torture, I love you so much. Miranda, please talk to me.” His lips stayed parted, begging for a kiss.

  She felt the same way he did, and she desperately wanted to seal her mouth over his. But this was his fault. They separated because he messed around on her. She turned away and removed her coat and boots. Her hands shook, and she tried to steady them and keep her strength.

  When she turned back, he was crawling towards her, looking like a model from a diesel mechanics pinup poster. Posed like a centerfold from a firefighter calendar. The ones stocked with sexy half naked men, only Chuck was a mechanic. If they made a calendar for blue-collar workers’ then her husband should be on it.

  The sadness she felt was visible around his eyes. It seemed like he hadn’t slept well, which should have made her happy. A huge part of her wanted to kiss him, hug him, and tell him everything would be all right, but she wanted to strangle him first. Wrap her fingers around his neck and squeeze. There was another part of him, a long and thick part she longed to squeeze too.

  A week without sex was messing with her brain. Chuck’s arms seemed bigger, stronger and more capable of manhandling her the way she craved. She loved the way the light sprinkling of chest hair darkened around his navel, showcasing his taut abs. He had the body of a man who worked hard and played harder. Looking at him hurt too much. He should put his shirt back on.