Loe raamatut: «Overtime For Love»
Desire is a game without rules
Optimistic and hardworking, Angela Bouler prides herself on getting through life without asking for an assist. School, two jobs, caring for her nephew, Cory—she’s keeping it all together...then Isaiah Reynolds bounces into her life. The Jacksonville Gators’ star forward is coaching at Cory’s summer camp, but guardians and mentors aren’t supposed to mix—and certainly not surrender to red-hot kisses...
Isaiah has an image of the perfect partner in his head, and it doesn’t quite mesh with Angela’s hectic life. Or her evening job serving drinks at a gentlemen’s club. But deep down, she’s the only woman who sparks a true connection. He’s expected to keep his image spotless, but instead he’s risking everything on a strong, sexy, complicated woman. Winning her heart won’t be easy, but it’s becoming the only play that really matters...
A large hand wrapped around her wrist and prevented her from impersonating a flipped pancake.
Awareness prickled up her arm from the strong hand around her wrist. Her gaze lifted all the way up to a pair of dark sexy eyes. Her heart stumbled worse than her feet and air sprinted from her lungs like a that of a runner’s. Isaiah Reynolds.
The lean muscles of his arms were bared by a sleeveless red athletic shirt. Basketball shorts partially covered sculpted legs long enough to make a redwood jealous. If a tree could get jealous. The spice of sweat and his own masculine scent swirled through her senses and made her knees wobbly. Recognition brightened his warm brown eyes. For a split second he seemed happy and surprised right before his brows furled. His lips, the lower one fuller and so damn kissable, twisted into a frown.
“Angel?” he said in a tenor tone that was as smooth as silk and ran over her just as seductively.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for spending your time with my characters today. When I first introduced Isaiah in Full Court Seduction, I knew I had to write a story for him. The so-called “good guy” of the team needed a woman to make him put all his rules aside in the name of love. Angela “Angel” did exactly that. She’s not what he planned for, nor did he expect their first introduction to cause so much change in his life. Angela has been hit with some hard blows, but she remains upbeat and optimistic. Her refusal to let circumstances beat her down is one of the reasons Isaiah can’t help but fall for her.
I hope you enjoy their road to happily-ever-after. Please be sure to leave a review or drop me an email at synithia@synithiawilliams.com and let me know what you think.
Happy reading!
Synithia W.
Overtime for Love
Synithia Williams
SYNITHIA WILLIAMS has been an avid romance-novel lover since picking up her first at the age of thirteen. It was only natural that she would begin penning her own romances soon after—much to the chagrin of her high school math teachers. She’s a native of South Carolina and now writes romances as hot as their southern settings. Outside of writing, she works on water quality and sustainability issues for local government. She’s married to her own personal hero, and they have two sons who’ve convinced her that professional wrestling and superheroes are supreme entertainment. When she isn’t working, writing, or being a wife and mother, she’s usually bingeing on TV series, playing around on social media or planning her next girls’ night out with friends. You can learn more about Synithia by visiting her website, www.synithiawilliams.com, where she blogs about writing, life and relationships.
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to the great team at Harlequin Kimani: Shannon Criss and Keyla Hernandez. You two helped tighten my stories, always answered my questions and were super helpful during my time with Kimani. I wish you much success in your future endeavors.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Dear Reader
Title Page
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Extract
Copyright
Chapter 1
Bless the soul of the person who invented air-conditioning.
Angela Bouler sighed in ecstasy when she opened the door to the North Region Activity Center and cool air kissed her skin. Heat and humidity had combined to make summer in Jacksonville, Florida, beat Hell on the hot and uncomfortable scale. She leaned back against the open door and turned to her only nephew, who was coming up behind her. Oblivious to the heat, and enthralled by his cell phone, Cory walked slower than a two-legged tortoise.
“Come on, Cory. Whatever is on that thing will still be there once we’re inside the air-conditioned building.” Her attempt at an upbeat tone wilted.
After scrambling to get off work early so she could pick up Cory from her neighbor and get him to the activity center in time to sign up for a month-long basketball camp, in the middle of a heat wave straight from the pits of Hell, she didn’t feel too bad about not being perky. She’d left the blazer she’d worn to her day job as a court-appointed advocate for foster children in the car, but even without the extra layer, her blouse stuck to her back and tendrils of hair escaped the ponytail she’d swept her thick shoulder-length hair into and clung to her neck.
Cory slipped his phone into the pocket of his basketball shorts and picked up his speed to match that of a three-legged tortoise. “I’m hungry,” he grumbled.
“You’re always hungry.”
“I’m growing. I’m almost a man now,” he said with a cocky, know-it-all smile perfected by teenagers everywhere.
Angela rolled her eyes but didn’t suppress her grin. “Whatever, man. Pay me back for the box of Hot Pockets you ate in one day.”
“I said almost a man. I’m broke.” Cory grinned and looked so much like her brother Angela’s heart hurt. He was as tall as she was, but would probably grow several more inches. Despite his slow pace, his skin, the color of dark honey, held a red flush from the heat.
Angela ruffled his purposefully messy high-top fade, then gently pushed him farther into the cool building. Cory tried not to laugh and brushed her hand away. Ever since her brother’s girlfriend, Heather, had dropped off Cory at Angela’s door a month ago, saying nothing more than “I can’t take him to New York—he’ll ruin my chance at a stage career,” Cory had done nothing but eat, eat and then eat more, all while growing half an inch every fifteen minutes. Her fifteen-hundred-square-foot apartment felt like five hundred and if she didn’t hide her good ice cream in an old bag of frozen peas she’d have nothing to eat. Though she suspected Cory’s never-ending appetite would eventually lead him to explore the frozen veggies and discover her hiding place.
She closed the door and directed Cory toward the main desk. “Come on. Let’s get you signed up. This will be fun!” She managed legit excitement with the last statement.
The grin on Cory’s face melted away. Another thing she was learning about thirteen-year-old boys—they went from happy to sullen in a split second. “This is charity.”
“A favor isn’t charity. One of the boys originally registered for camp dropped out and my boss was nice enough to let me sign you up. There are plenty of other kids we work with who would love to be in your place. Do you want me to tell my boss to give the registration to another kid?”
Her office got five registrations to the activity center’s coveted camp with the Jacksonville Gators professional basketball team. Angela hadn’t asked for Cory to get the newly opened spot, but couldn’t turn it down when her boss approached her at the last minute. Cory deserved some joy. Her brother, Darryl, was serving time for embezzling funds at his job—the idiot—and his mom had up and left for New York. Angela refused to be another person who let him down. She would do whatever she could to make Cory feel wanted. Even though she had no idea what she was doing. Kids hadn’t been in her short-or long-term plans.
Cory stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “No.”
“Then zip it and let’s get you registered.” Angela rubbed his back and smiled.
She understood his aversion to accepting things. Help from others usually came with a price. Something she’d learned after her parents died and her aunt considered the money Angela’s parents left for Angela and her brother’s college educations to be her “reward” for taking in the kids. After that lesson, Angela chose to rely on herself to get what she wanted out of life. She’d taken a job as a bartender at a gentlemen’s club to pay for her undergraduate degree and continued serving drinks part-time after landing the position as an advocate to help cover the costs of graduate school. She paid her own way and was proud of that, but a coveted spot in a basketball camp with professionals was an exception to her don’t-accept-help rule.
She looked around the inside of the activity center. The large one-story building was filled with light from the multitude of windows along the front. It housed a gymnasium, rooms for various exercise and art classes, and a large meeting space. A table next to one of the classrooms had a sign that identified it as the spot to register for the Gators’ basketball camp.
They signed in at the desk and were directed inside, where twenty other kids and their parents and guardians sat waiting. She and Cory found a seat toward the front. Angela spotted and waved at the program director, Keri Little. Keri was a petite firecracker of a woman with mocha skin and natural red hair cut into a short tapered style. Angela often spoke with Keri when recommending kids from their office to the program.
Keri moved to the front of the room and tapped on the desk to get everyone’s attention. The hum of conversation disappeared and Keri gave the room a hundred-watt smile.
“Good afternoon! First, I want to thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to come to the orientation for the Jacksonville Gators’ basketball camp. This is going to be a great year, not only because I know we’ve got a great group of kids, but also because our Gators are league champions!”
Keri cheered and many of the parents and kids joined in. Cory sat up straighter. Excitement crept into his light brown eyes. Angela felt a rush of satisfaction. Finally, a show of interest.
“I know an orientation for a basketball camp may seem odd,” Keri continued, “but believe me, after partnering with the Gators for seven years to bring this program together, there are a lot of things we want to make sure we let parents and kids know. Plus, this year we have a few changes. Each year, Coach Gray lets me know which players will be participating in the camp. If you look in your packet, you’ll see a list of the players attending and when they’ll be here. Coach Gray just informed me that this year’s host player will be none other than star forward Isaiah Reynolds!”
Another murmur went through the crowd as a quick flash of excitement surged through Angela. She couldn’t serve drinks in a popular gentlemen’s club and not have come across a few members of the Gators team. As the team’s “good guy,” Isaiah was typically an exception to the rule, but he’d come in after the team won the championship and they all came in to celebrate at the club.
To her surprise, he’d hung out at the bar instead of making it rain hundred-dollar bills in the VIP section. She’d served him drinks. He’d asked about her tribal tattoo, an African symbol of strength, on her wrist. Not in the creepy, I’m-trying-to-fake-interest-to-hook-up-with-you way she often got. He’d seemed genuinely interested. Before long, they’d struck up a conversation that never lapsed or grew stale, even when she walked away to serve other customers. She’d felt a connection, so much so that she’d debated whether to give him her number if he wanted it, but he’d left without asking.
She’d been a little disappointed, but things happened for a reason. Isaiah not asking for her number had probably been for the best. Most guys who hit on her at the club only wanted a quick hookup. Not her style. That didn’t stop the flutter of her heart at the thought of seeing him again.
“I know we’re all very excited to be interacting with such talented players, but please remember, they’re here for the camp—not for socializing. We’re very protective of their privacy,” Keri said, as if she could sense the anticipation jolting through Angela.
Angela’s face heated even though Keri wasn’t looking at her. She was here for Cory. One cool conversation with Isaiah wasn’t important.
Keri’s smile shifted to a look of determination. “One of the reasons this program works so well is because of the rules. So here they are. There will be plenty of opportunities for you and your kids to take pictures with the players. So please, no selfies, unsolicited shots, or requests for pictures. Do not ask for autographs. The players will give each kid an autographed jersey at the end of camp. No asking for money.” Keri held up a hand when a few parents, including Angela, chuckled in surprise. “I know that sounds obvious, but we’ve had people try. And again, please respect boundaries—parents, that also means no fraternizing with the players, if you know what I mean. Violation of any of these rules will result in your child’s immediate withdrawal from the program.”
The lady next to Angela tapped her with her elbow. “Too bad, huh?”
Angela gave her a weak smile. When she looked at Cory he snickered with a hand over his mouth. “Why are you laughing?”
“Fraternizing with a player?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Angela rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
Keri went through more of the rules. Angela pulled the papers out of the packet and skimmed through them. Despite the brief moment of excitement when she’d learned Isaiah would be at the camp, she really didn’t want to interact with the players. That would limit the possibility of them connecting Angel the bartender to Angela Bouler the advocate. She wasn’t ashamed of her bartending job, but her supervisor in the advocacy office thought the fact that she also worked at a strip club was best kept under the radar. Their director was ultraconservative, and he wouldn’t want any hint of a scandal.
A player recognizing her didn’t necessarily mean word of her part-time job would get back to their director, but to be sure, she’d limit her interactions. Drop off Cory in the morning, pick him up after work, and that was it. She could admire Isaiah Reynolds from afar and come up with silly fantasies of what might’ve happened if he’d asked for her number. She wouldn’t risk her job or Cory’s shot at some happiness just to talk to Isaiah Reynolds again.
Chapter 2
Isaiah watched the tattoo needle scrape across the upper arm of his teammate and friend Kevin Kouky and grimaced. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here.”
Kevin grinned at Isaiah from a seat in his favorite tattoo parlor. “You know you want one.”
Isaiah only grunted and shifted in his own seat. Kevin and the tattoo artist, Jack, both chuckled. Isaiah ignored them and studied the pictures of the elaborate tattoos on the wall. Skin Ink was one of the biggest and best tattoo parlors in the Jacksonville area. Most of the members of the Jacksonville Gators basketball team got their art there.
Isaiah had no idea how many tattoos Kevin had in total. His arms, chest and part of his neck were covered with colorful designs. Today he filled in a blank spot on his right forearm with a picture of the championship trophy and the date. He’d told Isaiah the spot was saved for that reason. Kevin was thirty-five and one of the oldest members of the team, even though his colorful tattoos and even more colorful attitude made people think he was younger. He’d waited a long time to win a championship and even though Isaiah never wanted a tattoo himself, he was happy to watch Kevin fill in the spot. Well...willing to watch.
“I don’t see the point of scarring my body unnecessarily.” Isaiah repeated the words his dad often said whenever he saw tattoos on a person. He tugged uncomfortably on his white polo shirt. His mother and father were both college professors, in engineering and chemistry, respectively. They weren’t big fans of art, which definitely included body art. Isaiah had once felt the same, but after years playing basketball in college and professionally, he’d come to appreciate good body art—at least, on someone else.
Kevin looked down at the needle marking his arm. “Each tat has a reason. When you have a good reason, you’ll get one.”
Isaiah had flirted with the idea of getting a tattoo before, but hadn’t thought of anything he liked enough to permanently emblazon on his pecan-brown skin. Maybe the chemical symbol for testosterone or a differential equation. His parents might not freak out over a chemical bond or engineering nod versus a picture of the championship trophy. The idea made him smile even though he’d never do it. He no longer did things that would shock or disappoint his parents.
His cell phone chimed. Isaiah checked his email, then looked at Kevin. “Ms. Keri from the activity center sent over the agenda. You still helping with the camp this year?”
“Of course,” Kevin said in an eager voice. “Best time of the year. Thanks for inviting me again.”
Isaiah turned his chair around and straddled it with his arms resting on the back. “From what I heard, the kids loved you last year. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I know you think I’m wild,” Kevin said with a grin.
Isaiah laughed. “That’s why I hang out with you.”
Isaiah would rather have Kevin there than any of his other teammates. He and Kevin were total opposites. Kevin was the wild card on the team with tattoos, earrings and a spontaneous personality that had led to two failed long-term relationships and four kids. Isaiah had the reserved nature cultivated by academic parents, spent more time volunteering than partying and had limited experience with women, including one on-again, off-again relationship with his college girlfriend, Bridget, and a few hookups in between. Despite their differences, their personalities jibed. Mostly because Isaiah lived vicariously through Kevin. His friend wasn’t afraid to say, do, or go for what he wanted, whereas Isaiah spent more time thinking of long-term consequences instead of immediate needs. Nearly ruining his mother’s career due to a rash decision had that kind of long-term effect.
Isaiah checked the schedule for the basketball camp and compared it to his schedule, saw a conflict and grunted. “I’m going to miss picking up Bridget from the airport,” he said absently.
“And? She can’t find her way to a hotel?” Kevin asked drily.
Kevin had met Bridget twice and wasn’t a fan. Isaiah wasn’t offended. Bridget’s straightforward personality often rubbed people the wrong way. For the past year, she and Isaiah had been off-again while she finished law school. He’d asked her to move to Jacksonville after getting her degree. He was tired of being on the dating scene. He was ready for a wife and kids. Bridget was the best option. His parents liked her, they were compatible and he knew she wasn’t after him because he was a professional baller.
Isaiah flipped his phone in his hand. “I thought about letting her stay at my place,” he said in a blasé tone.
Kevin’s attention snapped to Isaiah. “Hell no!”
Isaiah shrugged. “Why not?”
“Her staying with you means you’re back on again.”
“I’m ready for that step.”
Kevin cocked his head to the side. “What step?”
“The next step. Marriage, kids, all that.”
Kevin’s head shook before Isaiah finished talking. “Not her.”
He hadn’t expected Kevin to give an enthusiastic endorsement for Bridget, but he wasn’t expecting the flat-out steel in his friend’s voice. “Why not?”
“Man, she’s a nice girl but she isn’t right for you.”
Isaiah leaned back and laughed. “She’s perfect for me. Smart. Beautiful. Good family. No scandals.”
Kevin’s head fell back and he made a snoring sound. “Boring.”
Isaiah grinned at his friend’s theatrics. “Reliable. I’d much rather trust my future with her than someone I don’t know. You know how exhausting dating is? I don’t want to meet some new woman’s mom, dad, sisters and brothers. I don’t want to have to figure out if she’s really into me or hoping to be the next star of celebrity wives. I know and trust Bridget.”
“You can trust her to tie your balls in a knot,” Kevin grumbled. “And not in the good way.”
Isaiah raised a brow. “There’s a good way?”
Jack stopped the tattoo gun to stare at Isaiah. “Of course there’s a good way.”
Isaiah waved a hand. “Oh, well, then enlighten me.”
Kevin pointed at Isaiah with his free hand. “You want a woman who drives you crazy and makes you laugh. Someone who heats your blood with just a look. A woman that’ll cuss you out when you’re being a fool, but you know she’ll always have your back.”
“That sounds like a recipe for drama.” Isaiah couldn’t keep the distaste out of his voice.
“It’s a recipe for excitement,” Kevin said. “She challenges you, pushes you, and you might not like it all the time, you may argue, but making up again?” Kevin grinned and nodded. “That makes everything worth it.”
Isaiah laughed. “No harm, but that doesn’t sound like the type of marriage I want.”
“Hell, what can I say? That didn’t work for my marriage, either.” Kevin said in a teasing voice, but Isaiah caught the glimpse of regret in his eye.
Kevin had married his college sweetheart and she’d divorced him after five years. Then he’d had another long-term relationship that had ended a few years ago. He’d admitted to his mistakes in those relationships, and joked about being a failure at long-term commitment. The only good thing he claimed from his rocky relationships was his kids. Even though he often joked about his past, Isaiah suspected his failed relationships hurt more than he let on.
“But we’re not talking about me,” Kevin said, his cheerful voice back. “You’re champing at the bit to find a wife and have a pack of kids. I get it—your parents have a beautiful union and you like stability. You’re that guy.”
“That guy?” Isaiah asked.
“The relationship guy. That’s cool. We need guys like you out there. It’s good for team testosterone to have decent men out there, but don’t let your visions of a perfect family lead you to marrying the wrong woman. Divorce isn’t fun. Believe me.”
“Bridget isn’t the wrong woman. That’s why I asked her to move to Jacksonville. When I get married I want to stay married. I know Bridget and she knows me. We both want the same things and our families love each other. She’s perfect.”
Jack glanced at Isaiah quickly before going back to the tattoo. “Perfect doesn’t mean you want to sleep with her every night.”
Heat filled Isaiah’s face and he flipped his cell phone again. “We’re compatible in every way if that’s what you’re getting at.”
It had been a while since they’d slept together. And the last time had been rushed, when they’d both been in the same city a year ago and only had a few hours before she had to catch a flight. He’d always thought their sex life was decent, until he’d heard the stories the guys told. Then he realized his and Bridget’s sex life had always been tame. There was nothing wrong with tame...it just made him wonder about wild.
Kevin shook his head. “Big deal. Most women are decent in bed. She’s moving here because you asked her to. Are you burning to see her in here?” Kevin placed a fist over his heart. “Is she all up in your head? Are you twisting, turning and downright yearning for her to get here so you can get your arms around her?”
Twisting and turning, yes. But not out of anticipation. More out of a sense of anxiety. Was asking her here the right thing? That wasn’t something to talk about now. Kevin was his friend, but Jack didn’t need insight on Isaiah’s boring romantic life. “Of course,” he said quickly. Kevin’s look said Isaiah was full of crap.
Isaiah focused on his phone and checked social media. He thought about the last time a woman had heated his blood. Still thinking about Angel. Isaiah clenched the phone and his teeth. He needed to stop thinking of Angel, but not thinking of her was nearly impossible. Dark sparkling eyes, full luscious lips, curves... Damn, the woman’s curves were amazing. Smooth, golden tan skin that had sparkled with a glittery lotion that smelled as enticing as she looked. And that thick dark hair—he’d wanted to reach out and touch it.
Angel was the perfect name. If that was her real name. The bartender at Sweethearts gentlemen’s club probably used a fake name, just like the dancers did.
Their conversation had lasted all night. He’d felt a connection, but wasn’t that supposed to be what he felt? Women at the strip club worked to make connections so patrons spent more money. Even though he’d wanted to ask for her number, he’d made himself walk away instead of shattering the illusion if she turned him down.
“What are you guys doing tonight?” Isaiah asked.
“Some of the fellas are going to Sweethearts. I’m not feeling it. I’d rather burn my money on something else.”
The jump shot of anticipation at the mention of Sweethearts made Isaiah’s heart dribble against his rib cage. He took a slow breath to steady the beat. He didn’t need to go back there.
“Why aren’t you feeling it?” Isaiah asked.
“I promised Chanel I’d take her to Hawaii.”
Kevin’s latest fling. Isaiah cocked his head and smirked at Kevin. “She give you the burning feeling you were telling me about?”
“Hell no. Chanel is only looking for a good time. That’s all I’m good for.” Before Isaiah could comment on the grim tone of his friend’s admission, Kevin got a knowing look in his gray eyes. “Are you going to the club?”
Isaiah grunted and shook his head. “Nah. What for?”
Kevin just grinned. He’d teased Isaiah about Angel for a week after the team celebrated at Sweethearts. Teased him and called him a damn fool for not getting her number. According to Will Hampton, another friend and teammate, her not giving him her number was unlikely. Perks of being a professional athlete, he’d said, but Will was the type of guy not many women said no to.
Isaiah wasn’t going to bring Angel back into the conversation. Bad enough her sexy laugh and beautiful smile still popped up in his dreams. “You’ll be back from Hawaii in time for camp?” He stood and looked at the pictures on the wall.
“Just going for a weekend. I’ll be back,” Kevin said.
One of the pictures on the wall caught Isaiah’s attention. He walked over for a closer look. The five curved lines arranged in a star shape reminded him of the tattoo Angel had on her wrist. The African symbol for strength.
A reminder that I can handle anything that comes my way. I’m strong enough to take care of me.
Her voice had held a trace of some lingering pain. He’d wanted to know what it was so he could wipe it clean away. But he’d changed the subject. Teased that he would get a shark tattoo because it was his favorite animal. She’d laughed and he’d fallen into her spell.
Too bad life wasn’t just about going with instinct, the way a shark did. Instinct would have him back at the club tonight. There were consequences to consider. Plans to be made. Plans that didn’t involve falling for a bartender with a beautiful smile after already asking the “perfect” woman to move to his town and talk about their future.
Tasuta katkend on lõppenud.
