Kendall Tracy, General Manager of the San Francisco Miners, is not one for rash decisions or one-night stands. But when she finds herself alone in a hotel room with a heart-stoppingly gorgeous man-who looks oddly familiar-Kendall throws her own rules out the window…and they blow right back into her face.
Drew McCoy should look familiar, he’s a star player for her team’s archrival the Seattle Sharks. Which would basically make Drew and Kendall the Romeo and Juliet of professional football…well, without all the dying. Not that it’s an issue. They agree to pretend their encounter never happened. Nothing good can come from it anyway, right? Drew’s not so sure.
Kendall may be all wrong, but he can’t stop thinking about her and he finds that some risks are worth taking. Because the stakes are always highest when you’re playing for keeps.
Drew McCoy dodged pouring rain as he darted through a puddle-infested parking lot and into the entrance of the biggest bookstore in Bellevue. As he shook off the rain and jammed his hands into the pockets of his black North Face fleece jacket, he nodded at a familiar bookstore employee. He spent enough time here that the staff knew who he was, despite the fact he always kept his long blond ponytail tucked out of sight beneath a slouchy knit hat. He didn’t mind because they kept a respectful distance, but he was occasionally recognized by another customer. It looked like his luck was about to run out. As he passed the Women’s Fiction aisle he overheard a woman say to the employee he’d nodded at, “Wasn’t that Drew McCoy that just walked by? From the Sharks?” Drew darted into Gardening/Home Improvement and braced himself to be exposed. “That guy looks a lot like him, huh?” the employee said. “A football player probably doesn’t like to browse in the Women’s Fiction section of the store, though.” “You’re right,” the woman said and laughed a little. “He’s probably not into books.” He sighed with relief. Peeking around the end display, he saw the woman walk away in the opposite direction. He waited until she got in line at the checkstand, and doubled back to find the store employee who’d misdirected her. The employee glanced up from his work in surprise. Drew stuck out his hand. The guy shook it. He wore a nametag: CRAIG. Drew would be stopping by next week with autographed team merchandise for him.
Julie Brannagh has been writing since she was old enough to hold a pencil. She lives in a small town near Seattle, where she once served as a city council member and owned a yarn shop. She shares her home with a wonderful husband, two uncivilized Maine Coons and a rambunctious chocolate Lab. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, or armchair-quarterbacking her favorite NFL team from the comfort of the family room couch. Julie is a Golden Heart finalist and the author of contemporary sports romances.