Football Dad: (Friends to Lovers) Read online




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  Football Dad

  Excerpt for

  Billionaire Playboy

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  Millionaire. Football Star. Single Dad.

  But London only knows about the last one.

  When she shows up with her own son to football camp,

  I want to get into her end zone.

  She's cute and flirty.

  Best of all, she doesn't have a clue as to who I am.

  It's refreshing. It's perfect.

  Spending a couple months watching our kids train with such an incredible woman.

  I couldn't ask for more.

  But what will happen when the truth comes out?

  I've waited too long without letting her in on such an important part of my past.

  My fans have other plans.

  She's been hurt before and has her defenses up.

  I've got to break through that line.

  Because in the end, I'll make her mine.

  Football Dad

  BY

  Terry Towers

  Football Dad

  Copyright 2018 by Terry Towers

  All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via internet or other means, electronic or print without the authors permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov.ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Chapter 1

  London

  “This isn’t going to happen. Maybe it’s too small?” I asked my fifteen-year-old son as I attempted to pull the shoulder pads over his head. Luckily, all the parents and other players were so busy doing their own thing, with it being the first day of football camp, that they didn’t notice us struggling.

  “The guy said it was the right size,” Justin said, his face covered by the breastplate of the pads, his arms trapped over his head.

  “Maybe the size was labeled wrong?” That’s all I could come up with. My eyes spotted straps on each side. “Here’s the problem. You need to put the jersey over the pads after the pads are on. So, let’s take off the jersey and undo the straps on the sides. We’ll do up the straps after you put them over your head then get you into the jersey. Take it off again.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Justin groaned.

  He was in the process of pulling the shoulder pads off when a tall, blond-haired man came up beside us, followed by a young man that I would guess was the same age as my son, already in full uniform and nearly as tall as his father. “Whoa! Wait! Don’t undo anything or remove the jersey.”

  “Why not?” The man towered over me, tall and broad. I would bet a solid foot taller than my 5’4 and as he stepped beside me, I could faintly smell his cologne. I couldn’t place the scent, but it was amazing, beckoning me to get closer. I refrained. “How are you supposed to do it? It won’t go on.”

  Chuckling, the man helped my son out of the shoulder pads. “Okay, son. What I need you to do is put your arms straight out in front of you.”

  “Okay,” he replied, doing as he was told.

  The man placed the shoulder pads on his arms and pulled them up. “Now put your head down and into the opening.” Justin nodded and followed his instruction. Within a minute the shoulders pads were on and he was ready to go.

  Passing Justin his glasses, I gave the man a grateful look. “Thank you so much. I feel like such an idiot.”

  He flashed me a smile, the type of smile that makes your insides melt and stomach flutter. “Don’t be. Shoulder pads can be a bitch, especially for someone who isn’t used to wearing them. Nothing to be worried about. It’s next to impossible to get the jersey over the pads once they’re on. It would have been a major bastard to try and do up again. Always put the jersey on the pads first. It can be a struggle but it’s all a matter of getting used to the technique.”

  “Okay.” I felt my cheeks growing warm. Guess I should have checked out YouTube on how to put a child in shoulder pads before the game. Looking around, I noticed all the football moms, they all seemed to know what they were doing. I would guess both my son and I were the only ones out of our element. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “No worries. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” He smiled again, this time the smile was soft and flirty. I had to force myself not to start giggling like a schoolgirl. “Good luck, buddy.” He gave my son a pat on the shoulder before he turned and walked away. The not-so-miniature version of him walked alongside his father.

  Justin looked onto the field and I followed his gaze. My rough guess would say there were about sixty boys in total. All the boys looked like they knew what they were doing and been playing for years as they tossed the ball back and forth.

  “I don’t know about this, Mom,” my son groaned. “I think I may be in over my head. Video games are my thing.”

  “And now football is your thing as well,” I assured him, putting an arm over his shoulders and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, this is going to be good. You’re going to do great.”

  “I’ve never played before.”

  “And this is where you’ll learn. This is the best summer football training camp on the East Coast.”

  “Which makes it even more intimidating, Mom. I’m going to suck and everyone will know it.”

  I sighed, the look of fear and apprehension in his gaze made my heart go out to him. I couldn’t let him see that I had the same fear for him. Looking him straight in the eye, I used my no-nonsense mom voice when I responded, “You said you wanted to try football. I paid more than I could afford to make it happen. So, what you’re going to do is get out onto the field and be the best running back you can be. They may be bigger than you, but you’re fast.”

  “I might get hurt.”

  “If they can’t catch you, they can’t hurt you. Just run fast.” I meant it as a joke, but he refused to laugh.

  Justin gave me a blank stare, unsure of how to respond and then shook his head. “Okay, Mom. I’ll do it.” Turning from me, he picked his helmet off the ground and ran out onto the field. He looked uncertain at first as to what to do, but one of the boys on the field offered to throw a ball with him. It didn’t take long for him to blend in with the crowd and I released a sigh of relief.

  This is going to be okay, I told myself. He wanted to try it and here we were. He needed to learn that life didn’t revolve around video games and text messages. This was going to be a good life lesson.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  London

  I’ll admit it. As the day wore on, my poor kid looked like a fish out of water on the field running drills. All the coaches were professional players and the groups they coached were small, with a maximum of eight kids per group. Just
in started off very poorly, but he seemed to be coming along well enough, given he had minimal prior knowledge of the sport. Certainly not to the level of the other boys, but he was doing okay. I was proud of him despite his struggles. We both had to remember that he was new to this, it would take a lot of work for him to get as good as the other boys. As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

  Speaking of fish out of water, I felt just as lost sitting on the wooden bench at the sidelines with all the football moms talking about this and that coach or team. I had no clue about any of it. But this was for his social future for his first year of high school. If he took this seriously and managed to get good enough to get onto a team, he’d have his social life secured instead of being the kid with few to no friends. We were in a whole new city, meaning it was a fresh start. I refused to allow him to relive the experience he had in middle school with no friends and being bullied daily.

  “How’s he doing?” a male voice asked me from behind. I shifted to see the man who’d helped Justin with his shoulder pads, as he stepped over the bench and sat down next to me.

  I shrugged. “It’s his first day and he’s never touched a football until today, so as good as to be expected, I suppose.”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “He’s green; definitely green, but this training camp is the best. By the end of the summer his progress will be mind blowing.”

  “I really hope he gets good enough to make the high school team, even if he is just a benchwarmer. We’re new to Boston and he doesn’t know a soul. He could use some friends and a good start to high school.”

  “For sure. My son, Alexander, has been playing ball since he was a toddler. It’ll be his second year on the high school team.”

  “Which one is Alexander?” I’d lost track of his son the moment he’d stepped onto the field.

  The man pointed to the left. “Number 23. Red jersey. He’s a quarterback.” As my eyes caught sight of the teenager, his boy threw the ball and it went sailing through the air. The accuracy and distance that the kid made with the ball was unbelievable. I didn’t know much about football, but I’d wager that he threw good enough for college ball, maybe even the NFL.

  “I had no idea what to put Justin in. Considering his size, I figured running back?” I shrugged as I looked at him as if he had the answer I was looking for.

  He studied my son for a few minutes, as Justin did the assigned drills under the watchful eyes of his coach. As he watched my son, I took the opportunity to study him. He was gorgeous, despite the long scar across the right side of his jawline. When you envision the “All-American” boy with blond hair and blue eyes, with rugged good looks, you’d envision a younger version of the man sitting beside me. Considering his kid was roughly Justin’s age, I’d guess that would put him at an age of about thirty-eight—just a few years older than me.

  “He is quick. That’s good. He’s a little on the short side, but not too bad. Running back may be the spot for him. It’s all going to depend on how well he handles himself. The beauty about football is that there’s a position for everyone. If he doesn’t already, he needs to start watching instructional videos. Watch games.” He turned his head to look at me again. “You guys watch football.” It was said more as a statement rather than a question.

  I could feel a blush coloring my cheeks. “I’ve never seen a game in my lifetime. Neither has Justin.”

  His brow furrowed as if he thought I was a lunatic, but the look quickly faded and he grinned. “No dating of the high school football captain in high school?”

  Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “No. Not exactly. My love life back then was complicated.”

  “Oh. I see. Have you corrected that?” The amused twinkle in his eyes only added to his sexiness.

  With a grimace, I shook my head again. “Not yet. I really can’t stand football. I just don’t get the point, but what I do like is the fact that it will teach my son some very important skills such as teamwork and giving something 110% percent because others are depending on you. I see the value in it.”

  “You’re not scared he’ll get hurt?” Just as the words came from his lips, Justin received a ball to the face, the impact crushing his glasses, the pieces of his glasses flying out from inside of the helmet. How in the hell that was even possible was beyond me.

  My heart leapt into my throat as my mouth dropped open. What if he was hurt? What if one of the lenses got rammed into his eye socket from the impact and explosion of the glasses? Ohmygod! Justin was the only thing I had in this world. Without him, I’d have no life. This was a stupid, stupid idea!

  I was about to jump up to run over to my child when I felt a large, strong hand grab my upper arm, keeping my butt planted on the seat. “Whoa, hold up there, Momma Bear. Don’t interfere. You’ll embarrass the boy. He’s fine. The coach will make sure he’s okay and if he’s not, he’ll motion for you to come over.”

  Looking into his eyes, I found my heart rate dropping to normal. Taking a deep breath in, I slowly released it. “Okay. I just got a little anxious. Justin isn’t a sporty kid.”

  “But he’s going to be.” He released my arm and I immediately missed the warmth of his hand touching me.

  Justin placed what was left of his glasses on the bench closest to where they were training and got back in line to attempt a running catch. He’d attempted this a number of times today and had yet to actually catch the ball. How he’d catch it halfway blind was beyond me. But he seemed to be giving it his best effort and was grinning, so missing the glasses didn’t seem to faze him.

  “Alexander didn’t get to be as good as he is now by not putting a lot of time and effort into it. And he’s had a broken bone or two, but he’s survived to tell the tale. You know, people who don’t understand the game think it’s just a bunch of dumb jocks chasing after a ball. Football is so much more than that. You’ll see.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Have you corrected it?” His tone became more playful as he looked down at me.

  Frowning, I looked up into his steel-blue eyes that seemed to change from blue to gray depending on the angle of his head and how the light was hitting his face. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Laughing, he said, “You mentioned your high school love life was complicated and then squirreled. Did you manage to get that straightened out?” He nodded towards Justin. “You and his dad together?”

  I grimaced at the thought of Justin’s father. I’d gotten pregnant my senior year of high school and discovered I was pregnant just before prom. Naïve as I was, I thought we’d graduate and he’d propose and live happily ever after. That didn’t happen. Though in reality that rarely happens in real life, if it does the divorce comes just as quickly. They were called starter marriages for a reason.

  Or maybe I’m just jaded… at thirty-three years old, I sometimes wondered if marriage was ever going to be in my future.

  His smile wavered. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

  “No. No.” I reached out and touched his forearm. Damn, the man was muscular. He was wearing a form-fitting black t-shirt with his muscles bulging against the cotton. “It’s not prying. I don’t have any contact with his father. Haven’t had contact since Justin was born.”

  He released a low whistle. “Whoa. Sorry to hear it.”

  “It is what it is. I’m afraid to admit my love life never did improve.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “Beats me. If I knew why, I’d be able to fix the problem. Just when I think I’ve got something good with a guy, it turns south on me and I end up eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and watching sappy movies while obsessing over what went wrong. My waistline is proof of that.”

  “That’s a lot of truth in one statement and I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. And for the record, your waistline is just perfect as far as I’m concerned.”

  Groaning out loud, my cheeks heated up again.
“Sorry. It’s pathetic, I’m pathetic. I know this, and I shouldn’t be laying this out on a stranger. Hell, I should be laying it out for a friend, let alone a stranger I met at my kid’s football camp. I don’t even know your name, yet you know my life story.” This was a huge shit show. I’d be lucky if he ever spoke to me again.

  He turned to face me directly and extended his hand to me. “I’m Cole and you are?”

  Accepting his hand, I responded, “London.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, London. So now that we’re not strangers, you don’t need to feel embarrassed about telling me your life story.”

  With a laugh, I replied. “Still feeling pathetic. Knowing your name doesn’t help, though I appreciate the effort. Enough about me. What’s your story?”

  He looked down at his watch and gave me a cocky grin. “I’ll have to give you that information when I see you tomorrow. Practice is over.”

  Looking up at the clock mounted at the back wall, I sighed. Just when I was getting to know him. Go figure. “See me tomorrow?” Is he asking me on a date? After my near meltdown?

  “Yeah. You and Justin are coming to practice tomorrow night, aren’t you?”

  Well, DOH! Of course, he wasn’t asking me out. Guys like him don’t go for women like me. Not that I didn’t have a lot going for me, but I pictured him with some hot blonde with big boobs and a slender figure. I was the exact opposite of that. I wore blue contact lenses to cover my drab brown eyes and I’d been dyeing the gray out of my dark brown hair since I was twenty-three. Not that I was heinous looking, not by a long shot, but I was average, working with what God gave me to make myself look good.

  “Yeah, of course.” I tried to hide my disappointment, smiling at him as he stood up. I followed suit. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 2

  London