Page 36 of Score to Settle (Oakwood Ranch #1)
TWENTY-FIVE
JAKE
DYLAN: Mama says good luck.
CHASE: She’s not watching?
DYLAN: She’s with me at the ACL clinic in LA. I told her I’m a 30yo man who didn’t need his mama by his side but you know Mama.
CHASE: Like the time I got sick in college and she insisted on coming to stay in my dorm, bringing her famous soup with her.
JAKE: When do we tell her we hate that soup?
DYLAN: We take that shit to our graves!
CHASE: I’m sure you’ll have a cute journalist to cheer you on tonight, Jakey.
DYLAN: And the ranch to yourself until we’re home tomorrow.
CHASE:
DYLAN: Don’t forget to feed Buck.
JAKE: He’s my dog. I’m not going to forget to feed him.
There’s nothing like playing Sunday night football to the home crowd in my own stadium.
The buzz of the roaring fans and their support.
It’s indescribable. Like magic flooding my body with every stamping foot and clapping hand.
We charge onto the field, leaping and whooping, stirring the crowd into a frenzy as we stand beneath the floodlights, our helmets under our arms, ready for this game.
The Las Vegas Desertraptors follow us out of the tunnel.
Their away supporters are strong and they keep their heads high as they take their positions in their green and white team colors, helmets already in place.
No cheering. No waving. They’re telling us they’re not here for showboating. They’re here to win, but so are we.
My gaze moves to the skybox and I can’t stop the smile from touching my lips as I see Harper standing at the front of the glass in her white Stormhawks top, hair tousled, lips painted her favorite red. My favorite red. Our eyes meet and she waves, her grin widening.
My mind drifts to the past week. After our incredible night together, things were awkward for a while.
Neither of us seemed to know what to say, how to act.
I tried to tell her that morning in the kitchen that I wanted more, but it came out wrong.
Like all I wanted from her was more sex.
But that’s only a fraction of the things I want from Harper.
I’ve never felt this way before about anyone and it terrifies me.
I choked. Since then, I’ve followed Harper’s lead and kept things light, ignoring how much I’ve wanted to pull her into my arms, tell her how beautiful she is.
Make her scream with pleasure all over again.
I know her assignment with me will be over next Sunday, and as much as I never wanted this profile in the first place, now I’m not sure I’m ready for this to end.
Last night we stayed up late talking on the back porch, wrapped in blankets, Buck’s head in Harper’s lap.
It was easy, like we’ve known each other for years.
I caught myself wishing time would pause so we could stay like that forever.
But football waits for no one. I push thoughts of Harper aside as I fasten my helmet and put my head firmly in the game.
The Desertraptors win the toss and choose to receive. JT moves into position for the kick. The crowd is roaring, the lights are blinding, but I tune it all out. The whistle blows, the ball is soaring toward the Desertraptors, and we’re off in a clash of bodies and adrenaline.
Within minutes, the Stormhawks have possession.
The ball is snapped, and I burst forward.
Rob draws the safety deep, opening up space for me.
I cut inside, slipping past the cornerback.
Billy sees me break open and fires a perfect spiral.
It slices through the air, and I extend my arms. The ball smacks into my hands, and I tuck it in, my legs pumping hard as I sprint toward the end zone.
The safety angles in for the tackle, but I lower my shoulder and drive right through him. Nothing but green grass lies ahead as I cross the goal line. I spike the ball, and the crowd erupts. It feels amazing, but I keep my focus—there’s a whole game left to play. And this is where I belong.
The rest of the first quarter is a defensive slugfest, but by the third quarter, we’re up 14-7.
The Desertraptors offense finally responds, marching down the field with quick, precise passes.
But our defense stiffens in the red zone.
Gordon blows up a run, forcing them to settle for a field goal.
14-10. As we hit the final quarter, the score is 21-17 after Rob scores another touchdown and then their own wide receiver does the same. Both extra points are good.
The crowd is wild and restless. With minutes left, we have the ball again. Billy steps up behind center, eyes scanning the defense. He calls the cadence, and the ball snaps clean. I explode off the line, chip the edge rusher, and break into my route.
I know this is my moment. I cut across the field, and Billy sees me.
A split second later, he fires. The ball spirals through the air, right to where I’m heading.
I stretch, make the grab, and turn upfield.
Adrenaline takes over as I dodge one Desertraptor and stiff-arm another.
My legs burn, but I keep driving forward until I’m finally taken down.
The clock hits zero, and the crowd erupts.
Final score: 21-17. We’ve won. With two games left of the season, the Stormhawks are leading the AFC West. If we can hold on to the lead, we’ll have secured a playoff spot. The Super Bowl feels closer than ever.
As the stadium explodes, I throw off my helmet and look to the skybox for Harper.
When our eyes meet again, a beam of energy shoots through me.
In that moment, I can no longer deny the truth.
It has me grinning like a fool. I’m falling for this woman.
And I’m falling hard. Which only leaves one question—what the hell am I going to do about it?