Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (19 page)

Epilogue

Kate

One year later

“Kate! Have you seen my jumper?” Lizzy’s whine carried from her bedroom all the way down the hall to where I was digging through the laundry, looking for my favorite dark jeans.

“Try your dresser!” I hollered back. “I haven’t seen it today!”

There was chaos all around me. Jay and I had a great little flat in downtown Manchester, with a spare bedroom for Lizzy and Connor, who were dating each other now. I loved it when they stayed with us, but sometimes I felt like I could have used just a pinch more time to myself. Especially today, since I was nervous. I had news to tell Jay, and I secretly wished that we could be alone when I shared it with him, but I loved my sister, and her messiness unfortunately came with the whole package.

“I found it,” Lizzy said, the relief obvious in her voice. “Ready to go?”

I looked in the mirror, and a very frazzled Kate Walsh stared back at me. She definitely didn’t look like the host of Up To Date With Kate, a new talk show on British TV, and she
definitely
didn’t look like a glamorous WAG.

“You look fine,” Lizzy said, as if she could read my mind. “Come on, let’s go!” She stamped the ground impatiently and charged towards the front door like a bull. Even though she’d graduated from college and had a real job at a marketing firm now, she still acted more the tomboy than ever.

“We’re not going to be late,” I said, checking my makeup once more in the mirror. “The game doesn’t start for another two hours.”

Lizzy rolled her eyes. “The
match
, Kate. The match. Haven’t you learned anything?”

She skipped ahead of me. Connor was standing in the kitchen, finishing a mug of coffee, and when he saw Lizzy, he grinned and let out a whoop. Both of their faces were painted in Manchester United colors and they were wearing matching jumpers. Lizzy wrapped her arms around him and leaned in for a careful kiss, and he grabbed her and pulled her closer, until their mouths were smashed together in blend of snogging and grinning.

“You guys are ridiculous,” I said with a grin, dangling my keys. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Lizzy and Connor chattered the whole way to the stadium. Connor had been out of Promising Light for about four months now, and he was working as a social media manager for Manchester United. Jay had gotten him the job after a lot of protest—Connor was still proud, but he knew better now than he had before, and he’d realized that sometimes it was okay to accept a little help. He was doing great, and Jay was so proud of him. I’d even given him a special episode on Up To Date With Kate, talking about addiction and his path to recovery.

My new show hadn’t been easy for me to pitch at first—local network executives were worried that British women wouldn’t want a talk show hosted by an American—but with a lot of work and dedication, I’d managed to see it through. They’d looked at the British ratings from my old show and realized that women here in the UK were indeed perfectly happy to have a host from America…and it certainly didn’t hurt that I was now married to a sports player who was a national favorite. The media and general public absolutely loved Jay and me being together, and they also seemed to love me for being the one who’d finally ‘tamed’ Jay Walsh, so my show was already relatively successful after just one season based on that popularity alone.

I knew better—I hadn’t tamed Jay. He’d always been the tender, loving man that he was around me. He’d just needed to meet the right woman for that side of him to come out, and as luck would have it, I was that woman.

Seriously, could I be any luckier?

The streets were lined with Manchester fans as I drove slowly along the way to the stadium. Jay’s team had played a great season. They probably weren’t going to win the Premiership, but he was still pleased with the year overall. He said it was one of the better seasons he’d ever had, and somehow he managed to credit that to being married to me.

I grinned to myself as I recalled our wonderful wedding day.

We’d gotten married shortly after the proposal. The wedding had been relatively small—I’d insisted—but still big enough so that Jay’s whole team could come, and afterwards, we’d taken a short holiday to the Isle of Man. I’d always imagined having a honeymoon someplace tropical, but with Jay, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. I couldn’t even look down at the ring on my finger without smiling. Even today, feeling nervous, I felt an insurmountable glow of pride at being Jay’s wife.

I was never going to be lonely again.

“Kate, step on it!” Lizzy thumped me on the shoulder. “I’d like to get to the field before it gets dark!”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s the middle of the afternoon,” I said. “We’ll be fine.”

Lizzy and Connor were snuggled in the backseat of my car together, making me feel a bit like a chauffeur, and at my latest remark, they both collapsed in a fit of giggles.

It had been a good year. My show was off to a great start, and Jay had been able to spend a lot of time on his charity, Helping Hands. He got it started after the crash at Manchester Airport, and it had done a lot to rehabilitate his public image. I was so proud of him—occasionally, an old photo would pop up in the tabloids, but that’s all it was.

History.

Nothing but history.

Now, he was a changed man, and I knew for certain that a person didn’t need to have a perfect past to have a perfect future. He was living proof of that, and thankfully, we didn’t even have to worry about the tabloids dragging up old stories very often. His ex-girlfriend Hannah had been fired from her job after it was discovered that she’d been plagiarizing work from other journalists, and since then, we hadn’t heard a peep from her. For a while I’d worried about her coming back into the picture, but nowadays she was the farthest thing from my mind.

When we got to the stadium, we were taken up towards the VIP Lounge, and Lizzy and Connor ran ahead of me, skipping and jumping like a couple of kids. I grinned. I loved seeing my younger sister happy, and with a man who treated her so well. When I’d been her age, dating had been a nightmare. I’d been a nervous wreck and New York guys had treated me like crap—including Josh.

Speaking of Josh, the last I’d heard of him was that he’d had to move back to his hometown after Keeping Current With Kate was canceled, because he couldn’t find another job in the NYC TV industry, and just like with Hannah, we hadn’t heard a peep from him since.

Hmm
…maybe someone needed to set those two up on a blind date. They really deserved each other.

To my surprise, Jay was waiting for me in the VIP lounge at the stadium. He was wearing his home colors, and when he saw me, a grin broke out over his face. “You look amazing,” he said as he pulled me close and gave me a kiss. “The most stunning WAG here, by a long shot.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes in a good-natured manner. Despite whatever Jay told me, I was never going to feel as glamorous as some of the other women who were involved with football players. “You’re full of it,” I told him, playfully poking him in the chest as he pulled me close.

“No matter,” Jay said with a grin. “You’re mine, and that’s what counts.”

He leaned down and gave me another brief kiss, but not so brief that I didn’t feel a bolt of lust coursing through my body.

“Come on, knock it off with the mushy stuff!” Connor clapped Jay on the shoulder, and Jay gave me a smile then turned away and embraced his friend.

Ever since Connor had checked into Promising Light, his relationship with Jay had been much better. They were back to living like brothers, and I couldn’t have been happier about it. Even though Connor and Lizzy stayed over all the time, I loved having them around. Lizzy had her own flat, a few blocks away, but she was still obsessed with football, and if there was even the slightest chance that one of Jay’s mates was going to drop by, she was over in a flash.

“Kate, come here,” Lizzy said. She grabbed my wrist and tugged me over to the bar. “I want to talk to you.” She looked at me, her green eyes flickering around nervously. “I think Connor is going to ask me to marry him soon.”

I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s great. But don’t you think you’re a tad young for that?”

Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Come on, you’re like, two years older than me! I’m not too young!”

I laughed. “Lizzy, you’re five years younger than I am!”

Lizzy raised her eyebrows. “But I’m responsible for your current happiness. After all, I introduced you to Jay,” she said. “Don’t you think you owe me a little more credit?”

I laughed drily. “Fine, I’ll give you that one. But remember, whether you get married or not, you’re only twenty-two,” I replied. “Enjoy it.”

“Yeah, soon I’ll be old and married and boring,” Lizzy retorted. She stuck her tongue out. “Oh, look, the game is starting!”

Grabbing my arm, she dragged me over to the viewing area. We were so far up in the air that Jay and his mates looked like little specks, but I could always tell which one was my husband. I grinned again. I loved seeing him on the field; I loved seeing him do what he did best.

“He’s really something,” Lizzy said, following my gaze. “He’s the best, Kate.”

“Remember the first time you told me that?” I looked my younger sister in the eye. “And I didn’t believe you?”

Lizzy laughed. “Yeah,” she said, taking a big sip of her beer. “You were dumb. But you wised up.” She winked at me, then gave me a funny look. “Even for you, you’re being quiet today. What’s up?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just a bit nervous about the match seeing as it’s one of the last ones for the season,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t immediately realize that I was lying.

I had a lot on my mind, but I wanted to tell Jay first. Fortunately, the first half of the game went quickly and before I knew it, he was bounding up to me, sweaty and covered in mud.

“You’re doing great, babe. Arsenal don’t stand a chance against you guys,” I said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Yeah, this is a great game,” he replied, wiping his brow. “My mates are really working the pitch. You watching?”

I nodded. “Always,” I said with a little smirk on my face. Then I took a deep breath; I was finally ready to reveal my secret. “We both are.”

Jay gave me a funny look. “You both are?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, nodding and grinning as I rubbed my stomach. Jay looked down and watched my actions, then looked back up to my face for confirmation, and when he realized what I meant, he let out a whoop before grabbing me and spinning me around in the air.

“Bloody hell, Kate, I’m going to be a father?” he asked. I nodded, and Jay let out an exuberant cry as he leaned down to kiss me. “I can’t believe it! What fucking fantastic news!”

I grinned at his colorful language. “You won’t be able to swear like that for much longer. Unless you want our baby’s first word to be ‘fuck’.”

“Could be worse. His or her first words could be ‘I support Liverpool’.”

I laughed, and tears of joy came to my eyes. I didn’t bother wiping them away; I was so happy that I didn’t even care about ruining my makeup.

I nuzzled Jay, leaning in close and smelling his delicious, masculine scent. “Are you happy?”

“Babe, I’ve never been this happy,” Jay said. He grinned at me widely. “And you know what this means, right?”

I shook my head.

He winked. “This means I get to score
two
goals in the next half,” he said with a smirk. “One for you, and one for the baby. Arsenal are still on zero, so it’ll be a perfect match for us if it stays that way.”

I smiled and nodded, although I knew that even if he didn’t score any goals at all, we still had a perfect match on our hands.
Us.
We were worlds apart in terms of upbringing and personality, but that meant nothing when it came to two people matching up and being perfect for one another. We balanced each other’s flaws and positive aspects, and we supported each other no matter what.

I put my hand on my belly again, watching as Jay headed back onto the field, and for the millionth time, I thought about how lucky I was that he was my man.

I’d really made the perfect score.

THE END

Thank you so much for reading my book! I hope you enjoyed Playing Dirty, and I hope it made your day a little brighter :) If it did, I’d love it if you could leave me a review on Amazon – it helps my books reach more readers. As a bonus, I’ve included a free book for you – keep reading to find it.

You can also sign up to my newsletter here if you’d like updates on new releases and competitions
:
http://eepurl.com/bOrUuH

Thanks again <3

Love,

Avery

ROYAL BABY

A British Bad Boy Romance

Chapter 1

Keira

“But you’re an art student!” My friend Sarah’s words had a tendency to slur slightly when she’d been drinking. “Why would you want to be a cleaner?”

I rolled my eyes and wondered if I looked and sounded as drunk as my friend. I hadn’t had as much to drink as Sarah, but on the other hand, Sarah was a bigger drinker and could hold her liquor better—there was a good chance that I was just as drunk despite only having had two drinks. If that even made sense…I wasn’t sure, which probably meant that I was a little tipsy.

Oh well. Tonight was a night for celebration! I’d just finished my degree, and I was happy to be past all the late nights, cramming, and stressful final exams.

“Well?” Sarah pushed for an answer to her question.

“Okay, firstly,” I began, hearing that drink-induced slur in my own words mirroring that of my friend. “I’m not an art student. As of today, I’m officially an art graduate.”

“True. I’ll drink to that,” Sarah replied, knocking back a shot with a practiced flick of her wrist.

“Secondly,” I continued. “I don’t want to be a cleaner, I want to be a maid, which is a bit different. Thirdly, I don’t even
want
to be a maid exactly, but I’ve got to make money somehow on my gap year. And while it’s pretty easy to ‘maid’ your way around Europe, it’s surprisingly hard to ‘art’ your way around Europe. You go into a temp agency and say you’re looking for any art jobs they have going and they laugh in your face.”

“Jeez, they literally laughed in your face?”

“Well…mostly they snickered behind my back,” I admitted. “But the principle is the same.”

“I guess I can see that,” Sarah replied.

“If I don’t go now, then I’ll end up getting a job, getting married eventually, and having kids. And you know, I do want all that stuff sometime down the line, but if it happens soon, then I’ll never get to do the stuff for me, like traveling and experiencing the world.”

“And seeing all the great art galleries of Europe.”

“Exactly.”

“And getting good and laid along the way,” she added with a smirk.

I shook my head. “I’m just going for the art.”

Sarah shook her head in disappointment at me. “You see, I could understand that attitude if you’d cut loose in college, like everybody else did. But whenever I tried to take you out to meet some guys, you always said you had to work…”

“I
did
have to work.”

“
And
,” Sarah continued, waving away my excuse. “You always said that there would be plenty of time for fun once you graduated. Well, now you’ve graduated, and you’re still being boring! You need less Manet, and more man-lay.” She paused and snickered at her artistic pun. “That’s the best I can do off the top of my head. I think there’s something with Botticelli but I can’t quite figure it out.”

“Please don’t,” I said with a grin.

Sarah shrugged. “Anyway, where are you gonna be working?”

I perked up. Although being a maid was not what I’d dreamed of through years of studying old masters, one exciting possibility had come up. “Well, I’m starting in England. I’ve applied for a bunch of places but the one I really want is—drum roll please…”

Sarah did a drum roll on the edge of the table with her hands.

“Working for the British royal family at one of their official residences.”

It was a mark of how impressive this news was that when Sarah spilled her drink, she didn’t seem to care. “You’re shitting me! You’d really be working for the Arlingtons?”

I nodded. “That’s what it’s looking like. I made it through the first stage of the application, so fingers crossed. I just have to wait for them to finish all the background checks and do the second round of applications. As you can imagine, they put all possible future staff through the wringer.”

“But they’re the friggin’ royal family…can’t they afford to hire someone with more maid experience? Like
any
maid experience.”

“I may have slightly embellished my résumé,” I admitted, my cheeks turning hot. “But I spent years cleaning up after all my younger brothers and taking care of them when my parents were drinking, so that has to count for something, right? Unfortunately they don’t let you put stuff like that on résumés.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Wow, though…if you actually get that job, that’ll be so awesome!” Sarah enthused. “Oh my god! I just thought of something—you might meet Prince Andrew!”

I smiled. “I guess you never know.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Sarah reached for her glass. “Oh, crap, I spilled my drink...”

While Sarah went to the bar to get a new drink, I mused on the possibilities my new job might offer me. Frankly, unlike my friend, I had little interest in the British royal family itself, and only the vaguest idea of who Prince Andrew Arlington was. He was heir to the throne and a bit of a playboy from what I’d read in the occasional gossip column I glanced at, and my knowledge about him ground to a halt there.

What I did know was that the royal family owned the largest collection of old masters in private ownership in the world. There were endless family portraits by such luminaries as Holbein and Velazquez, but there was also the largest collection of Da Vinci sketches gathered in one place, and rarities by British greats such as Constable, Turner and Reynolds. They were the amassed artistic treasures of an empire which had once spanned the globe and which, though the empire itself had now been disbanded, the royal family had been remiss enough not to give back. For anyone with an interest in art, it was like being a kid let loose in a candy store.

I wasn’t foolish enough to think that the first thing the family would do when I arrived was say, ‘
Have a look at the art collection first, then get on with cleaning the toilets’
. Nor did I think it likely that many of my maid duties would revolve around the galleries or store rooms in which the remarkable collection was housed. But if I saw only a fraction of what they had to offer, then that was enough—I would be seeing works that were usually reserved for academics, visiting dignitaries and the family itself. It would be a thrill, and if doing a bit of vacuuming was the price of that thrill, then it was a price that I was more than willing to pay.

Sarah returned with a bottle of something vodka-based for herself and a tray of shot glasses which spilled as she tottered unsteadily to the table.

“I have come to a decision,” she said.

“Are you replacing your blood with alcohol?” I asked, eyeing the impressive array of drinks as I arched one brow.

“Yes, but that’s more an ongoing project than a decision,” she replied. “I’ve decided that you are going to have fun tonight.”

“I
am
having fun.”

Sarah shook her head. “Let me rephrase that: you are going to have
fun
tonight.”

“That’s not rephrasing, that’s just changing the emphasis.”

“
Proper
fun,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve watched you having fun, Keira. It saddens me to think that you actually think you know what fun is.”

“I do know what it is!”

Sarah shook her head. “Unless you wake up in a place you don’t recognize, naked, sticky and feeling ashamed of yourself but not knowing why, you didn’t have fun. You might not remember it, but you have the satisfaction of knowing that fun was had.”

“I don’t want that kind of fun,” I said.

“You only graduate once, girl!”

“But you do this every weekend!”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Sarah winked and downed a shot, then picked up her bottle and turned to the room. “I’m going to find myself a hot guy to dance with. He may not be quite as good-looking tomorrow morning, but in these situations perception is all that matters.”

On this unexpectedly philosophical note, Sarah left the table.

I eyed the shot glasses warily and then looked up at the room. There were some handsome men here, and contrary to what Sarah might have thought, I wasn’t a frigid, stick in the mud who didn’t want or know how to have fun. I simply didn’t like to get absolutely blackout drunk when I went out, because my parents had struggled with alcohol addiction earlier in their lives, and I didn’t want to be like that at any point. Also, I was…well, to tell the truth, I was nervous. The truth was that I envied Sarah more than I cared to admit. The idea of going out, picking up a man, enjoying a night of devastating sex and then walking away without another thought was wholly off-putting to me, and yet also massively exciting and attractive. I didn’t want a one night stand; I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. But at the same time, I really envied the girls who were lucky enough to
be
that kind of girl. It must be so freeing to not give a crap about what others might think.

Could I do it for just one night? As I’d just noticed, there
were
some sexy men here at the bar…

But even as I thought it, I knew that it was beyond me. I simply wasn’t the type. And that was fine—I wasn’t horribly unhappy with who I was, and after an adolescence spent fighting against myself, I had finally come to think that being Keira Valencia was not such a bad person to be. It was just a shame that I couldn’t be entirely happy about it.

I watched Sarah dancing with a man whom she’d probably never met before tonight, and I raised my glass to my lips as I mused on what that would be like. For one night it might be nice to be Sarah Keane, but the next morning I would wake up as myself and most likely regret it all. Key to my life philosophy, such as it was, was the belief that somewhere out there, there was something that would make me as happy as Sarah seemed to be all the time. It might be harder to find, but that would just make it all the more worthwhile when I finally found it.

Boy, I hoped I was right about that.

I had no idea what the ‘something’ might be, although a persistent voice at the back of my mind told me that it might be a ‘someone’ rather than a ‘something’. And if God was kind, then it would be a someone who looked as good as the man who’d just approached and sat down at my table…

I drew in a sharp breath as I took him in. He looked around my age, perhaps a couple of years older. From what I’d seen out of the corner of my eye as he approached seconds earlier, he was tall—very tall—and although he was fully clothed, the cut nature of his body was evident, his muscles somehow imposing their presence through the constricting fabric. He reminded me of a sculpture; something strong and perfect carved by the brilliant hands of an ancient artist, aside from the tattoos twining up his upper arms and disappearing under his shirt. Ancient sculptures definitely didn’t have tattoos, and I didn’t need a fine arts degree to know that.

His face was even more captivating than his muscular form. His eyes were an entrancing shade of blue, and his face was all masculine angles from the ridge of his brows, the high cheekbones, and the square of his jaw. His lips were seemingly drawn into what appeared to be a permanent half-smirk, and I gulped as I waited to find out exactly why he’d sat down across from me.

“This is going to sound like a line,” he said.

He had an English accent that made me go unexpectedly weak at the knees. I’d never known that I found British accents sexy, but apparently I did. That movement of his lips was potent to me, and I felt something resonate within my core like the echo of a drum. 

“And the reason it’s going to sound like a line is because it
is
a line,” he continued. “I thought it was best to get that out of the way upfront—save any misunderstandings about my intentions.”

“Okay.” I smiled and nodded. Usually I would’ve said a polite ‘no thank you’, but I had to admit, this was a good opener. Oh, and the fact that the guy was utterly gorgeous certainly didn’t hurt….

“Let’s hear the line,” I added.

“You mean that wasn’t good enough?”

I laughed and shook my head. “You said there was going to be a line and you prepared me for it, so now you have to deliver.”

The man locked his sapphire blue eyes with mine. “You are, without question, the most beautiful woman in this bar, probably in this city, possibly in the world, and I would very much like it if you would join me for a drink. If for no other reason than the fact that I will be able to tell people that I drank with the most beautiful girl in this bar, probably in this city, possibly in the world.”

I found it hard to tear my gaze away from his eyes, but I did my best to seem nonchalant. “It’s not a very original line, but you did deliver it well. I think the accent helps.”

Speaking of the accent, it had just registered with me that it was rather posh, which struck me as strange for a man who had tattoos twisting up his arms. Then again, these days a lot of people had tattoos; people from many walks of life. I suppose it wasn’t
that
odd.

The man smiled back, blue eyes twinkling with irresistible wickedness. “I may not be original, but I always deliver.”