Page 1 of Home Town Advantage (Fourth Quarter Fever #1)

SULLEY

“ M omma, I’m about to lose reception. You know how it is up in the mountains. Hopefully this will be an easy fix, and I’ll be back home before the storm gets too heavy.”

Her voice is laced with a hint of paranoia, which has only gotten worse in the past few years. “Sweetie, I think this snowstorm is coming in faster than was forecasted. Turn around and come home.” With a shaky tone, she adds, “Please.”

She’s not wrong. The snow wasn’t supposed to start for another two hours, but it’s coming down so hard now I can barely see out my windshield, and I’m still thirty minutes away from my destination.

I hate to disappoint her, but this is important to me. I choke back the tears as I whisper, “It’s all we have left of him. I need to try.”

She’s silent, no doubt stifling her own emotions. It’s been several years since my brother, Finn, passed, but it never gets easier.

I’m on my way to his cabin in the secluded Montana mountains, over an hour from my parents’ house. This place was his baby. For a few hopeful months, we thought he left behind an actual baby. Instead, we had our hearts broken all over again.

An hour ago, we received an alert that the power in the cabin went out, and the temperature in the house was rapidly dropping.

That means that the backup generator never kicked on.

My father has been a heating and air conditioning repairman for thirty years.

He’s out on emergency calls for people who fear losing heat ahead of the supposed storm of the century.

He couldn’t come up here to a cabin over an hour out of town with no inhabitants.

Keeping people safe is his priority. Mine is safeguarding the one thing we have left of my brother.

The place where he dreamed of spending time with his family one day, only to have his dreams torn away by a roadside bombing overseas.

If the generator doesn’t work and the cabin loses too much heat, the water in the pipes will freeze, causing them to split and eventually thaw and flood the place.

I won’t let that happen. He left the cabin to me for my future family to enjoy, and no matter what, I will make sure it’s taken care of.

I spent enough after-school hours and summer days helping my father to be able to fix a few minor kinks in a generator.

My mother whispers back. “Please be safe. You’re all I have left. I love you, Sulley.”

“I love you too, Momma.” It’s silent. “Momma? Momma?”

No answer. I must have lost her. There’s no reception up here.

It’s one of the things my brother loved the most. It was a place to unplug.

To get away from the craziness and connect with people more intimately.

That’s the kind of guy he was. The kind who always made you feel like you had all his attention.

The kind who, despite our eight-year age difference, included me in everything.

He came to every basketball game of mine until the day he deployed.

And when he came home to visit, we’d shoot hoops for hours.

He even surprised me on my senior night in high school by showing up in the gymnasium.

He was the first person to believe I’d be a basketball superstar.

I know I wouldn’t be a professional basketball player if it weren’t for him pushing me when he was alive.

Even in death, I can still hear his voice inside my head, encouraging me when I need it the most.

By the time I reach the cabin, there is over a foot of snow on the ground.

Wow, this came in super-fast. I better fix the generator.

I might have to ride out the storm up here, and the last thing I want is to freeze to death while doing it.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have come up, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing the last truly special possession of his I have.

I take in the majestic wood cabin my brother and his then-best friend, Vance McCaffrey, spent two years building.

My brother was sixteen when my grandfather died and left him the land.

Finn had worked construction jobs for the previous three years and used that money and skill to build this place.

It was his pride and joy. Every spare second he had was spent up here working on making it everything he had dreamed of.

Finn designed this cabin. Our family has very little money. He enlisted with hopes of saving enough to enroll in college when he got out so he could study to become an architect. When he died at only twenty-six years old, he was in his final deployment.

Vance was our high school’s star quarterback and the golden boy of our town. Everyone worshiped him, including me. He was my first crush before I truly knew the term crush.

He and Finn were inseparable. Even when Finn decided to enlist and Vance got a college scholarship, their friendship never waned. If anything, it grew stronger. They were like brothers, which is why I’ll never truly understand why Vance did what he did.

I hadn’t spoken to Vance in years, but now we play in the same city and can’t seem to avoid running into each other. He’s the star quarterback of the Philadelphia Camels. I play for the Philadelphia Beavers, a new professional women’s basketball team.

For my first season, I rented a small apartment with a teammate as I learned about Philly, not wanting to buy anything quite yet. I went straight from college ball to the pros without a minute to catch my breath.

But I’m committed to my new team and my new city.

I just bought a small walk-up brownstone.

I’m very proud of that fact. While my salary as a professional athlete didn’t quite pay for it, the fact that I’ve somehow become the face of women’s basketball did.

I have new endorsement offers every day.

In fact, I owe a call to my agent, Tanner Montgomery, to let him know which new endorsement opportunities I’m interested in accepting.

I came home for the holidays to spend quality time with my family before embarking on the adventure of a lifetime.

However, I ended up staying a few more weeks because this year's holidays were extremely difficult for my mother, and I wanted to spend a little extra time with her before I officially moved to Philly.

I pull the hood of my bulky jacket over my hat-covered head and take a huge breath. You’ve got this, Sulley.

I slip into my gloves before opening the car door. I’m immediately hit with a gust of ice-cold air. Holy crap, it’s cold, well below freezing temperatures.

As I approach the cabin, I look down at the doormat, remembering when Finn bought it. It reads, “ Nice Underwear .” He thought it was the funniest doormat he had ever seen.

When I step inside, I realize it’s nearly as cold in here as it is outside. Shit. I need to move quickly.

Making my way to the back door, I open it, step back outside, and locate the snow-covered generator. With a nasty chill running through my body, I sweep away the snow on top and pull a few of my father’s tools from my bag. I’m not sure which, if any, I’ll need.

I run through the list I know by heart. First, you check the fuel lines. They look good. The levers are in the proper position. Then, I open the panel and check the wiring. I don’t see anything loose. Damn, I was hoping this would be a quick fix .

The snow and wind start to pick up. There’s no chance of my making it home. There’s no doubt in my mind now; I’ll be riding out this storm up here alone. My poor mother is going to be freaking out.

I check a few more things. The only thing left I can think of is that the triggering sensor isn’t calibrated properly. Sure enough, when I flick the manual override a few times, the generator kicks on. Phew.

The place will take several hours to heat up, but at least it’s moving in the right direction. Hopefully the pipes will remain in good shape until then.

I should go inside and build a fire. It will help move things along and will keep me warm while I wait. There’s always a pile of wood at the ready by the fireplace. That was one of my brother’s steadfast rules. Always have dry wood prepared. Yep, he was a Boy Scout through and through.

After securing the tools, I head back inside and remove my shoes. I was out back for a total of seven minutes and was wearing heavy snow boots, yet my toes are practically numb. I hope no one has to be outside in this weather. I don’t think they could survive more than twenty to thirty minutes.

Using my Girl Scout skills, I build a roaring fire in no time. As soon as it’s good to go, I turn on the sink. The water spits a bit, but it does eventually pour out as it’s supposed to. That bodes well for the pipes.

I check on a few things in the three bedrooms and the faucets in the two bathrooms. There’s not much here, but everything seems to be in working order.

I’m making my way back toward the fire when suddenly the front door bursts open with a loud thud, and a snow-covered male body collapses inside and to the floor, facedown.

I run to him and find him shaking uncontrollably. Falling to my knees, I ask, “Are you okay?” I poke his body with my finger when I don’t get an answer. “Sir, are you okay? ”

I can hear the sound of teeth chattering. Slowly turning over, the man stutters out, “C…c…c…cold.”

Once he’s face up, I suck in a breath and yell out, “Vance? What are you doing here?”

“W…w…worried. Y…y…y…you…”

His eyelids flutter a few times before his eyeballs roll to the back of his head and he passes out. At least, I hope he’s only passed out.

After checking his pulse and confirming he’s alive, I notice he’s soaking wet. His overgrown, dark brown hair is covered in ice. I look out the door and don’t see his truck. How did he get here? What the hell was he doing out in this storm?

He’s not wearing gloves. His fingers are white. His body is cold. I’m not a doctor, but I know he’s in the early stages of hypothermia.

After closing the door, I try to shake him awake. “Vance! Vance! Wake up!”

His eyes blink open to a semi-conscious state. They’re glazed over, but open.

“Can you get over to the fire? I can’t carry you.” The guy is six feet five inches and must weigh nearly two hundred and fifty pounds. Three hundred while soaking wet like this.

He wordlessly crawls, more like rolls, inch by slow inch, toward the fire. He’s still shaking. I need to get him out of these wet clothes.

As soon as he gets close to the fire, he passes out again. At least he’s in front of the heat now.

It takes me a good fifteen minutes, but I peel his wet clothes off him until he’s in his boxer briefs. Fortunately, those are dry. He was only wearing a T-shirt under his jacket. Was he insane going out in this weather dressed like this?

I run around and grab as many blankets as I can find, and then lay his clothes close to the fire so they can dry. Unfortunately, there are no clothes in this cabin. Besides the few well- worn sweatshirts I kept for myself, we donated all my brother’s belongings after he passed.

Vance is unconscious but still shaking. His toes and fingers are starting to turn blue and feel like icicles. The fire is warm, but the temperature in here has only risen a few degrees. I know he’s in real danger.

Shit. I’ve never wished more that I hadn’t gone to Girl Scouts because I know what I have to do.

I look up to the ceiling and offer a silent apology to my brother before removing my clothes until I’m in only a bra and panties. Sliding under the blankets with Vance, I wrap him in my arms to give him as much of my body heat as I can.

Holy crap, he feels like a block of ice. His body temperature must be dangerously low.

I hold him tight to the warmth of my body and rub my hands all over him. He’s all muscle. He was always built, but never like this. Holy hell.

He starts mumbling, incoherently at first, but at some point, I can make out a few words.

“Not…think…I wanted to…”

Huh? I think he’s hallucinating.

I lay there in front of the fire with my arms wrapped around him, hoping to feel the iciness of his body begin to thaw. It takes a little time, but eventually it does. In fact, it gets so warm and cozy that eventually I doze off with him.

I’m awakened by lips moving over my neck and something very long and hard between my legs. Blinking my eyes open, I see Vance’s piercing green ones staring at me.

I fell asleep with my arms around him, but now his surround me, and he’s on top of me.

He rubs his thumb along my cheek and whispers, “Your eyes look so blue right now. You’re beautiful, Sullivan Aisling. ”

I’d like to say I immediately push him away and kick him in the balls for daring to say that to me after all he’s done. But I don’t. I simply stare into the most gorgeous face ever created. The one I spent a lifetime dreaming about.

Years of fantasies are trickling through my head when Vance McCaffrey, the man I’ve hated for years, the man who tried to destroy my family, the man who betrayed my brother, the man who nearly derailed my career, does the worst thing possible.

He kisses me.