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PLAY-BY-PLAY NOVEL BY JACI BURTON
PLAY-BY-PLAY NOVEL BY JACI BURTON
TAKING A
SHOT
AVAILABLE SOON FROM
HEAT BOOKS.
JENNA RILEY HATED
SPORTS.
Which was ironic,
considering she owned and operated her family’s sports bar. Doubly
ironic, considering one brother was an NFL quarterback and the
other brother was a Major League Baseball player. And triply
ironic, considering her entire family loved sports of all
kinds.
Personally, she was
fed up with sports, having grown up with them shoved down her
throat her entire life. And now she lived with it twenty-four hours
a day, hearing about it every damn night at work. The bar was
constantly filled with nothing but sports, from football to
baseball to hockey to basketball to racing and everything in
between.
She was in the wrong
line of work. She should quit her job and be a roadie for a rock
band. She snickered at the thought. Like she could ever be free
from the chains of familial responsibility. Ever since her father
semi-retired from the bar, Riley’s had become her responsibility,
which meant, like it or not, sports had become her life. Big-screen
televisions broadcast every sporting event, blaring out the excited
voices of obnoxious announcers calling plays right behind her, in
front of her, and to the side of her. Excited fans filled the bar
after every game, so not only did she have to listen to the games
on television, she also had to hear the patrons’ recaps after the
game.
And if that wasn’t
bad enough, there were the sports networks rehashing player stats
and player drafts and all the game replays with analyst
commentary.
For someone who
hated sports, she had a head full of statistics on every player who
had ever played any sport.
Which meant every
patron at Riley’s loved her.
“Hey,
Jenna.”
She glanced up from
wiping down the bar. Steve Mahoney, one of her regulars, signaled
for another beer. She grabbed a bottle, popped off the top and slid
it over to him, then added it to his tab.
“You see the game
tonight?”
She smiled and
nodded. “Of course.” As if she had a choice.
“Two goals for
Anderson. The Ice scored a winner by picking him up last year,
didn’t they?”
“Yeah, he’s
great.”
Dick Mayhew got into
the action, sliding onto an available barstool someone had vacated.
He lifted one finger and Jenna grabbed a beer for him.
“He and Boudreaux
make a hell of a team at center,” Dick said. “I think they’re
unbeatable.”
Steve nodded. “I
think we have a serious shot at the cup this year. What do you
think, Jenna?”
Jenna thought she’d
like to extricate herself from this conversation and go refill some
of her customers’ drinks down at the other end of the bar. Instead,
she did what she always did when talk of sports came up. She
grinned and leaned her elbows against the bar and did her best PR.
“I think you’re right. Anderson is quick on his skates and he’s
magic with his shots. It’s like he knows right where to put them.
I’ve never seen anyone who can shoot a puck like he can. And we
already know Boudreaux is a proven winner at center. That’s why the
Ice have held on to him as long as they have. Together they make a
hell of a duo. Their combined stats on goals are off the
charts.”
“Not to mention
power plays. When one is down, the other picks up the slack,” Steve
said, and he and Dick launched into their own conversation, which
freed Jenna up to grab a few drinks for her other customers and see
to the bar orders from the waitresses who served the clients
sittings at tables throughout Riley’s.
Rileys always got
packed after a game, which meant Jenna lost all track of time.
She’d been here since before noon and it was now midnight. Her feet
hurt, she smelled like food and alcohol and she was ready to go
home, fall into bed, and sleep for twenty-four hours.
Too bad she had to
be here tomorrow and start all over again.
It was midweek.
Maybe people would start clearing out soon. After all, it was a
work night.
But the sounds of
raucous cheers made her cringe. She took a quick glance at the door
and her worst fears were realized when she saw a half dozen of the
St. Louis Ice players stroll through the front door.
Crap. Now no one
would leave until closing time, which meant almost three more hours
for her and her team. And the players were probably hungry. She
headed into the kitchen.
“Players just walked
in,” she said to Malcolm, her head cook.
Malcolm, who had the
patience of a saint and always took things in stride, just nodded.
“I’ll get out the steaks.”
She laughed, shook
her head and went back to the bar, refilled a few drinks, and
decided to let her waitresses handle the players. She’d go over
there and say hello when she had a free minute. Right now she was
slammed filling drink orders. Something about players coming in
made everyone thirsty.
It was good for
business, though. She loved having the players frequent Riley’s.
She had Mick and Gavin—and Elizabeth—to thank for
that.
“You look
busy.”
She lifted her head
and stared into the steel gray eyes of Tyler Anderson. He wore his
raven hair a little long and shaggy, just the way she liked . .
.
No. She did not like
this guy. He was a jock, a hockey player, and she most definitely
did not like sports players. Especially not Ty.
“Yeah, Ty. I’m a
little busy here. What can I do for you?”
“Thought you could
use some help. Why don’t you have two bartenders?”
“Because I can
handle it by myself. Is Lydia taking care of your
table?”
“She is. We’re fine.
Steaks are ordered.”
She planted her
palms against the side of the bar, sucking in a quick breath. “Then
what do you need?”
He came around the
open end of the bar. “Nothing. I came here to help
you.”
Her eyes widened.
“Get out of here. You can’t be back here.”
“Sure I can. You
need help.”
“No, I don’t.” She
shoved at him, but she might as well be trying to move a car. “Go
away.”
The crowd thickened
around the bar as soon as Ty made himself at home back there. He
filled drink orders while Jenna stared dumbfounded. He popped the
tops of bottles of beer like a pro, poured hard liquor, fixed mixed
drinks, and operated like he knew what the hell he was doing behind
a bar, then took the customer’s money or credit cards and handled
her cash register, too.
What. The.
Hell?
He slid a glance her
way. “You have customers at the other end of the bar.”
She finally gave up
and took care of her patrons while Ty drummed up more
business.
“Hey, Ty, your steak
is ready,” Malcolm said a half hour later.
“Just leave it
behind the bar. I’ll eat it here.”
“You got
it.”
Jenna rolled her
eyes and watched as Ty ate his steak standing up while he visited
with the guys at the bar, then went back to serving
drinks.
By two thirty she
called for last round and everyone began to leave. Jenna started
cleaning up while the last of her patrons made their way out the
door. She called taxis for those who needed them, helped the
waitresses bus tables, and cleared her bar registers.
She let the
waitresses go, locked the front door and headed into the kitchen to
find Malcolm and Ty chatting. The kitchen had been cleaned up, the
other cooks and the busboys had left, and only Malcolm remained,
with Ty—the two of them talking about football.
“What are you still
doing here?” she asked.
“Sorry. Got involved
talking postseason with Malcolm.”
“Who is now
leaving,” Malcolm said with a yawn. “Want me to walk you out,
Jenna?”
“No, thanks. I’ve
got a few things left to do.”
Malcolm narrowed his
dark brown eyes on her. “Go home. Don’t stay here all night doing
paperwork.”
She laughed. “I
don’t intend to.”
She locked the door
behind him, then turned to tell Tyler to go, but he wasn’t in the
kitchen. She found him in the bar pouring a whiskey.
“Hey. Last call was
an hour ago.”
He didn’t look
concerned as he smiled at her, tipped the glass to his lips, and
downed the drink in one swallow, then put money on the top of the
bar. She grabbed the money and slipped it into her
pocket.
“Pocketing the
profits, I see.”
“No, smart-ass. I
already closed out the register. I’ll add it in
tomorrow.”
He shook his head
and leaned against the bar. “This is how you talk to your
customers?”
“You stopped being a
customer when you came behind my bar and served up
drinks.”
“You needed
help.”
“No, I
didn’t.”
He folded his arms.
“Are you always this bitchy, or just to me?”
“Just to you. Now
get your ass out of here so I can finish closing up.”
He didn’t seem
insulted, just smiled instead, showing off perfectly straight white
teeth. Weren’t hockey players supposed to be missing a bunch of
teeth because of all their fights on the ice? Why did he have to be
so gorgeous? The damn man made her panties wet and had a habit of
showing up here fairly regularly, which did make her bitchy because
he hit all her hot buttons and she hadn’t had sex in a really long
time.
She needed to get
laid soon. Real soon. By someone who didn’t play
sports.
She hit the master
light switch, bathing the bar in darkness.
“Scared of the
dark?”
She jumped, not
realizing he was right behind her until she felt his hot breath on
the back of her neck. His body was warm and she’d turned the heat
down so now she was freezing. She bent down to grab her purse and
sweater, brushing her butt against his crotch. He felt solid. Hard.
Yummy.
Damn. She
straightened, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light.
“No.”
“No,
what?”
“I’m not afraid of
the dark.”
He turned her around
to face him. The light from the full moon cast him in grayish
shadow. She could see his face, though, as he cocked a grin. “Too
bad.”
“Why?”
“Then you might have
to lean on me to protect you?”
She took a step
back. “Why the hard-core press here, Ty?”
“Come on, Jenna.
You’re not a kid. You know why. I’ve been coming to the bar a lot,
hanging around. I like you.”
“I don’t like
you.”
He laughed. “Liar. I
see the way you look at me.”
“You are so full of
yourself, Anderson. Go pick up another girl. I’m not the least bit
interested in you.” She brushed past him and headed to the door,
waiting for him to meet her there so she could set the
alarm.
He did, his coat in
hand. She had her fingers on the keypad ready to turn the alarm
on.
“Wait a second,” he
said.
“Did you forget
something?”
“Yeah.” He hauled
her into his arms before she could take her next breath, and his
mouth came down on hers.
For a fraction of a
second she thought about objecting and pushing him away, but hell,
it had been a really long time since she’d been kissed. It was
January, cold as the polar ice cap outside, and Ty’s lips were
warm. His body was hot and as he folded her against him, she felt
that heat seep into her.
She dropped her
purse and coat and went with it, letting his lips claim
hers.
It was just as she’d
imagined it would be, and okay, she’d thought about this a lot. His
mouth was firm and demanding, a hint of whiskey on his lips. He
didn’t kiss like a sissy, thank God; wasn’t hesitant at all. He
just took the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth to wrap
around hers.
She tingled all
over, her toes curled, her panties got wet, and her sex pulsed with
a roaring need to be fucked. If he put his hands down her pants, in
two or three strokes she could come. The kiss was that
good.
He reached up and
cupped her breast and she moaned against his lips, pressing her
breast into his hand. She wanted more, wanted it all, and wanted it
right now. Her mind was filled with images of him lowering her to
the floor in the back of the bar, or bending her over the pool
table.
But that would be
going against everything she wanted. And didn’t want.
She wasn’t going to
let him have it. Not this guy. Not ever this guy. She pressed her
hands to his chest and broke the kiss.
“Stop. We can’t do
this.”
He stepped back, his
eyes dark with passion.
“Why
not?”
She fought for
breath, for her bearings and some semblance of sanity.
“Because I don’t
want to.” She licked her lips, bent down, and grabbed her coat and
purse. She turned away from him and with shaky hands she set the
alarm, walked outside, and locked the front door, Ty right behind
her.
She started to walk
away but he grabbed her wrist, burning her with a look that melted
her to the cold cement sidewalk.
And then he smiled
at her. “Good night, Jenna.”
She pivoted and
walked to her car, conscious of him standing there watching her. He
waited, hands in his coat pockets, while she got in and drove
away.
Bastard. Her body
was on fire from his kiss and she was going to have to take care of
herself when she got home tonight.
She was never going
to let him kiss her again.
TY WAITED UNTIL
JENNA PULLED OUT OF THE PARKING lot and onto the street before he
climbed into his car to head back to his place.
He had known Jenna
for almost a year now, had met her through his agent, Elizabeth,
and Jenna’s brother, Gavin.
Jenna wasn’t at all
his type. Oh, she was beautiful, all right, but she was skinny with
small breasts. He liked his women full and lush with big
tits.
He liked his women
with long hair he could run his fingers through. Jenna had short,
spiky black hair that had weird purple tips of color at the end,
which was kind of wild and funky.
Jenna had multiple
piercings in her left ear and that tiny little diamond in her nose.
It always made him wonder what other parts of her body were
pierced. And those tattoos he’d only gotten glimpses of intrigued
him. He wanted time to explore them, to study them, to strip her
down and see where else she was tattooed.
But her eyes were
what really drew him to her. They were an amazing sapphire blue
that were so expressive and so vulnerable, even though she liked to
play the tough chick.
Okay, so maybe she
was a little different. And maybe he was drawn to how utterly
different she was.
So he played with
her, irritated her and baited her because he knew he could get a
rise out of her.
And not interested?
Yeah, right. That kiss had told him just how interested she really
was. He’d bet if he’d gotten his hands into her panties she’d have
been wet.
Just the thought of
getting into her panties made his cock throb. He could still taste
her on his lips—peppermint and some kind of cherry-flavored lip
gloss. He licked his lips, wanted more.
Yeah, he wanted a
lot more of Jenna.
And just like in
hockey, when the goal was in sight, he never gave up.