Chapter Colin Kearney-St. James
Colin Kearney-St. James
What the fuck?
The biggest game of my life was winding down, and all I could think about was we had to get the ball back from the fuckers tryin’ to ruin our perfect season.
This was our comeback tour after losing out in the division championship last year, when I had to go back to Australia.
Carson and I had been fucking distracted, having to say goodbye, and I blamed myself for us losing.
Carson didn’t agree, but I wanted this so badly that I could taste it. Until I fucked up.
When we huddled up for the play, Carson was calm, cool, and collected.
I looked into my husband’s eyes and bit my lip to keep from saying something inappropriate.
I couldn’t help myself sometimes. It was how I dealt with stress.
“Third and short. They’re going to try to run around the end, but keep your eye on the tight end for an outlet pass.
Colin, cover the wide receiver. No penalties. ”
I should have been offended that he was aiming that comment at me. But then again, he knew me better than anyone. Inside and out. But no time for that. “Got it, babe.” Fuck, that just came out of nowhere. It was a habit when you were married to the sexy defensive captain. “I mean Cappy.”
My husband raised a brow before heading to the other side of the field.
But he wasn’t really mad. When the fuckers broke their huddle, I kept my eyes on the wide receiver.
Where he went, I was going to follow. I’ll cover him like sticky wallpaper.
And cover him I did. Except according to the ref, I kept my hands on him a bit too long, and out came his yellow flag, flying in the air.
“Personal Foul, number twenty-seven, defense. Fifteen-yard penalty. First down.”
“Colin!” Carson yelled, holding his helmet, stomping over to me. “I said no penalties. What are you doing?”
No one could say the love of my life treated me any differently than any of the other players.
He busted my balls and yelled at me just like everyone else.
Except when we got home, he took his disappointment out on my ass in the best possible way.
That was the only upside. But I had to make up for my fuck up.
Owen and the rugby blokes from home were watching on the satellite.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the ball,” I said, patting his shoulder. “I promise.”
My husband scowled at me, but not so mad anymore. “I know, babe.” He smacked the side of my helmet, then called the next play.
When the quarterback got in the shotgun, I knew this was my chance. Crouching down like a cougar, I kept my eyes on the quarterback. I watched where his eyes went when he called the play. He was going for the same receiver, hoping I’d screw the pooch one more time.
Sorry, buddy, not this time.
As soon as the ball was snapped, I hung back two steps and watched his eyes search for the same receiver.
When he found him, he let the ball go. As it sailed through the air, I timed my leap like I did when I played rugby.
I grabbed the ball out of the air, taking it away from the fuckers.
Tucking in under my arm, I ran toward the end zone while the fans cheered so loud it hurt my ears.
By the time they tackled me, we had to be close to midfield. Now it was up to Lennox and the boys.
“Baby! Baby! You did it!” Carson yelled, jerking me off the ground. By the look in his eyes, he’d have kissed the fuck out of me right there on the field if we weren’t wearing our helmets.
“You save all that admiration for later.” I waggled my brows, making him roll his eyes. He wouldn’t say it, but I knew what was going to happen. We were going to win this fucking game, and he was going to score with me. Over and over.
Jogging to the sideline, I handed the ball off to Lennox. “Here ya go, QB. Go win this thing.”
Lennox laughed as they took the field, and now, all we had to do was wait.