Sports – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Sports – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:13 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Sports – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Big Stick Energy (New York Legends #2) Read Online Sarina Bowen http://www.ilovenovels.com/big-stick-energy-new-york-legends-2-read-online-sarina-bowen Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:12:13 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/big-stick-energy-new-york-legends-2-read-online-sarina-bowen Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Authors: Sarina Bowen Series: New York Legends Series by Sarina Bowen
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)

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A hockey team captain and a bubbly staffer mix business with pleasure when they start fake dating through the wedding season in this hot sports romance perfect for fans of Mariana Zapata and Elle Kennedy.

Darcy Kendrick is used to putting out fires. As an overworked admin to a hockey team, she’s seen it all. But nothing prepares her for accidentally DMing her very private, very NSFW fantasy to the subject of this fantasy: team captain Eric Tremaine. Nobody actually dies of embarrassment. Right?

But when a wedding invite puts them on a collision course with her chaotic family and his emotionally fraught past, Eric suggests a plan: they fake-date their way through the “Wedding Experience.” It’s mutually beneficial. Totally strategic. And definitely not real. Except between mini tacos, slow dances and lingering glances, Eric starts to wonder if the sharp-tongued assistant with a bottomless to-do list might be the one person who truly sees him. And for Darcy? The fire in her heart might be the only one she can’t put out.

It’s supposed to be fake. It’s supposed to be temporary. So why is it so hard to walk away?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

A Little Prickly

Eric

May

The bus rumbles to a stop outside our Fort Lauderdale hotel, and the collective groan tells me everything I need to know about the team’s energy level. We’re deep in the playoffs, and nobody has slept a full night in weeks.

“My legs are trashed,” DeLuca announces from the seat behind me. “I might need to be carried off this bus.”

“I’ll grab your head, the rookie can take your feet,” Patterson offers, already standing and stretching dramatically.

“I’m not touching anyone’s feet,” Weber grouses. “That’s not in the handbook.”

I clap my hands together. “Less whining, more walking. I’m hungry.”

“They’re feeding us again, right?” DeLuca asks.

“I’m sure. Get your asses off the bus, and then I’ll check.” Captain’s duty.

I watch as they file toward the front, a procession of exhausted millionaires griping like toddlers before nap time. Petrov has his sleep mask still pushed up on his forehead, Weber is limping slightly from a blocked shot that found the one unpadded spot on his ankle, and Larkin is already on his phone, probably checking in with his pregnant wife.

I’m always the last one off the bus. Captain goes down with the ship, or in this case, makes sure nobody leaves their phone chargers or lucky socks behind. I do a quick scan of the seats, picking up a water bottle Emerson left behind and a granola bar wrapper that somehow missed the trash.

That’s when I notice a flash of ginger up front. As I get closer, I realize that Darcy—the GM’s assistant—is still in the first seat, her head resting against the window, completely dead to the world.

For a second, I just stare. I’ve never seen Darcy Kendrick anything less than alert and efficient. She’s always three steps ahead of everyone else, anticipating problems before they happen, notebook in hand and a sharp comeback ready. But here she is, mouth slightly open, completely oblivious to the fact that we’ve arrived.

I reach for her shoulder but then hesitate. I don’t want to startle her. “Darcy. Hey there, Darcy?” I say softly instead. “We’re back at the hotel.”

But she doesn’t move. Her pretty face is slack.

“Darcy?”

Once again, nothing.

I’m going to have to be more assertive, but I’m not looking forward to it. Darcy is a fantastic asset to the team, but she’s always been a little prickly to me. And only to me. When everyone else is around, she smiles more. I irritate her, though, and I’ve never been able to figure out why.

Honestly, it bugs me.

None of that matters right now, though. We need to get off this damn bus, so I reach down and give her shoulder a gentle nudge. “Buddy, we’re back at the hotel. I don’t think you want to stay on this bus.”

Her eyes snap open with the suddenness of someone who’s been yanked out of a dream. When she looks up, her gaze meets mine, and for a brief second, there’s a flash of something almost dreamy in her expression before it’s quickly replaced by irritation.

“Damn it.” She leaps to her feet, her face flushing nearly as red as her hair. “I never fall asleep. Did anyone draw on my face?” Her hands fly to her cheeks.

“Nope. You’re clear,” I say quickly. Although it’s a legitimate fear. Last month, on a flight to Dallas, Johnson fell asleep with his mouth hanging open and DeLuca drew a handlebar mustache on him with a Sharpie, which didn’t fully wash off until three games later. The TV commentary was rough.

She scrubs at her face with her hands anyway, then gives me a furious look. “Don’t stare. It’s impolite.”

“I’m not. I’m waiting for you. Like a gentleman,” I insist. Then I change the subject. “Dinner is probably soon, right? That’ll perk us up.”

She hoists her bag onto her shoulder and gives me another frown. “I’m on it, okay? I’ll check with the kitchen before I go up to my room.” Then she marches off the bus as if I’ve offended her.

Which is fine, right? I don’t need everyone to like me.

They usually do, but whatever.

I thank the driver for his service and drag my tired ass into the hotel.

Chapter 2

Like a Pit Bull in the Sun

Darcy

The Florida humidity sticks to me even after I’ve staggered into the air-conditioned hotel lobby. But the heat makes sense, because I’m suddenly in hell. I can’t believe that Eric Tremaine just found me drooling on myself. So mortifying.

I’d been floating along in a dream state when I’d heard a low, sexy voice. “Darcy. Hey there, Darcy?”

My first reaction had been: Oh yes, baby. Say more. But when I’d eventually opened my eyes, I’d been filled with horror. Out of two dozen players, it had to be Eric Tremaine who found me? I let out a groan, and a bellhop gives me a quizzical look.

You’d groan, too, buddy. My working relationship with Eric Tremaine is already complicated. He’s at the tippy top of the Legends food chain, and I’m on the bottom. Since he’s the captain of the team, I interact with him more than with other players.

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Married to the Scottish Player (Axes & Endzones #2) Read Online Sara Ney http://www.ilovenovels.com/married-to-the-scottish-player-axes-endzones-2-read-online-sara-ney Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:11:21 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/married-to-the-scottish-player-axes-endzones-2-read-online-sara-ney Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Authors: Sara Ney Series: Axes & Endzones Series by Sara Ney
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

From the author of Falling for the Fake Lumberjack comes a laugh-out-loud scorcher about a burned-out wedding planner and broken-down linebacker brought together by fate—and a booking snafu.

Wrangling lumberjacks for Star Lake’s Fall Fest has wedding and event planner Annabelle Franklin ready to saw some serious wood. When her best friend suggests a staycation, she’s all in. Too bad the cabin she books is already occupied—by a brawny Scot who just won’t budge.

The good news? Callum “Maverick” McBride has abs to spare and a voice that could fell trees (and drop panties). Did I mention he owns two kilts? Recuperating from surgery, the Arizona linebacker just wants privacy. And since he was there first, he refuses to give an inch.

As sparks start melting the ice between them, they concede to sharing the cabin. But after crashing a wedding—and waking up hungover with matching gold rings—any boundaries established are quickly forgotten.

Turns out Annabelle and Callum’s marriage is legit. And fate has another wee surprise in store. They discover that sometimes the best mistakes in life are the ones you choose to keep

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Annabelle

Lucy was right.

I need a break.

If one more person tells me I look tired, I’m going to scream.

But I do look tired. Because I am tired. Because running the Lakeside Fall Fest was basically like hosting a royal wedding, the Super Bowl, and a three-day lumberjack circus all rolled into one, minus the helpful minions and with way more syrup emergencies! Ugh!

The funny thing is—and by funny, I mean cruel and ironic—after it was all over and we’d counted the $80,000 we raised (I’m still suspicious someone added a zero), my first thought wasn’t relief.

It was I need a vacation.

A real one.

One where no one calls me at 6:00 a.m. asking if they can bring their cousin’s boyfriend’s dog to the pancake breakfast. One where I don’t have to talk to the fire marshal about whether or not axe throwing constitutes a “controlled hazard.” One where I don’t have to hear the question “Are we out of syrup?” ever again in my natural life.

But I can’t take a real one because There is No Time.

I text Lucy to complain, thumbs flying across the screen like a woman possessed: I need a vacation. I need three vacations. Possibly a sabbatical. Maybe early retirement. How do I make this happen without abandoning the town or faking my own death?

I stare at the chat bubble, waiting for those three glorious dots to appear.

Nothing.

I hate how impatient I am, waiting for her to reply. I hate how envious I am that she left for Arizona without me, because Harris freaking Bennett, NFL linebacker for Arizona, swept her off her feet like some kind of romantic comedy hero with biceps carved from marble.

She deserves it.

Obviously she does . . .

But also?

Rude!

I’m here, running on caffeine and stress fumes, my hair in a bun that hasn’t been undone in four days, answering emails about lost-and-found jackets, backpacks—and whether or not we can “make the lumberjacks come back for Christmas tree lighting in the square.”

I tap my phone impatiently. Still nothing.

I let out a dramatic sigh, leaning my head back against the porch railing, staring at the gray sky. Even the weather is judging me.

My phone dings.

Lucy:

Omg. Stop. Come to Arizona. Get on a plane. Do It.

Come to Arizona?

I stare at the screen, wanting to reply with a resounding Yes! Yes, you’re right! I’m on my way! Free place to stay! Sunshine!

My thumbs hesitate over the keys.

Except . . . I can’t.

There’s a pancake breakfast meeting on Tuesday. And the Christmas committee kickoff on Wednesday. And Madison Rodriguez and her fiancé are coming to tour their wedding venue on Tuesday afternoon, and her parents will finally be in town.

Annabelle:

You know I would love to, but I can’t.

Lucy:

There is always going to be reasons not to do something. I shut down the studio to fly here, because I couldn’t get anyone to cover for me. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for our mental health, for example . . .

I sigh. She’s not wrong—there is always going to be a reason not to do something. Still, that doesn’t mean I can drop everything and fly out of town.

I am not like Lucy.

I am not spontaneous.

I don’t live on the edge.

I stare out the window, in the direction of the lake. Yes, I live in a resort town. No, my apartment isn’t anywhere near the water. Too expensive.

But that’s me in a nutshell, isn’t it? Practical. Predictable. Sensible to a fault. I make grocery lists and stick to them. I budget down to the penny. I plan vacations twelve months in advance and still double-check hotel confirmations the night before. I don’t wake up one morning and decide to book a flight somewhere on a whim. I’ve never been that girl.

I wonder what it feels like to be that girl.

To act first and figure the rest out later.

To leap without worrying if the net will appear.

Lucy:

What about a staycation? Go to the lodge and relax! Let them pamper you! Hang out with the tourists . . .

Annabelle:

The lodge is the least quiet place in town. What I need is peace and quiet and not to stare at the white walls in my apartment, day in and day out . . . UGH!

Lucy:

Okay. What about one of the cottages? I had never been in one until I was inside Harris’s and they are So Darn Cute. You would love it.

I chew on my bottom lip, staring at her message. Spontaneity? No, thank you. That’s how you end up lost, sunburned, and accidentally eating something you’re allergic to.

But . . . what if?

What if I did take a staycation?

What if I closed my laptop, threw some clothes in a bag—no, not even pack a bag, just take whatever I can grab in ten minutes—and got the heck out of here?

Annabelle:

Wouldn’t that be weird?

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Promise Me This (Chicago Railers Hockey #4) Read Online Jennifer Sucevic http://www.ilovenovels.com/promise-me-this-chicago-railers-hockey-4-read-online-jennifer-sucevic Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:11:00 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/promise-me-this-chicago-railers-hockey-4-read-online-jennifer-sucevic Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Jennifer Sucevic Series: Chicago Railers Hockey Series by Jennifer Sucevic
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

I never planned to end up pregnant, alone, and starting over. But life unraveled faster than I could hold it together, and now the only thing that matters is protecting my baby… even if I have no idea what comes next.

Taking a live-in nanny job for Laiken Lennox is supposed to be temporary. A fresh start. A safe place to land while I rebuild my life. It’s not supposed to be dangerous.

Laiken is my brother’s teammate.
My new boss.
A guarded NHL goalie and devoted single dad already fighting a custody battle.

I tell myself I can handle the proximity.
The late nights.
The way he looks at me like I’m something worth saving.
But living under his roof blurs every line I swore I wouldn’t cross.
Especially when he starts caring for me in ways no one else ever has.

I’m carrying another man’s baby.
He’s the last person I should fall for.
But the more time we spend together, the more Laiken feels like the one thing I can’t lose.
And when the truth comes out, it could cost me everything.

Promise Me This is a forbidden, slow-burn pro hockey romance featuring a protective single dad, an off-limits nanny, and a secret that could tear them apart. It’s book four in the Chicago Railers series and can be read as a standalone

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Kia

The nausea hits before I’m fully awake.

One second I’m under the covers in my brother’s guest room, staring at the washed-out light seeping around the curtains, and the next my stomach cramps so hard it steals my breath.

“Oh crap,” I whisper, rolling onto my side.

My feet barely find the carpet before I’m rushing into the bathroom. The tile is cold against my bare feet as I drop to my knees, flip the seat up, and⁠—

My body takes over.

The vomiting is harsh and relentless, scraping up everything inside me until I’m shaking. My eyes sting and my throat burns. Even when there’s nothing left, my stomach continues to convulse.

Almost every morning for the past month has started out this way.

If I’m lucky, it’ll pass quickly. Sometimes it drags on for hours, leaving me to feel hollow and wrung out, stranded on the bathroom floor with fear buzzing beneath my skin.

I sag forward, my forehead resting against the cool porcelain as my hair hangs in damp strands along my temples. With my eyes closed, I breathe through my nose, trying to get my body under control.

My guess is that I’m around ten weeks pregnant.

Possibly eleven.

I stopped counting because numbers make it real, and real turns into panic faster than I’m able to manage. A bitter taste coats my tongue as I swallow and blink until the room stops swimming. It’s hard not to feel like the universe is punishing me for being naïve and trusting the wrong man.

The sound of footsteps padding down the hallway outside my room is enough to turn my blood to ice.

Please, please, please don’t let it be my brother.

I’m not ready to tell Oliver yet. I’ve spent weeks rehearsing the conversation in my head, testing different versions of the truth, but none explain how I let this happen. Or how I ignored all the warning signs when I handed my heart over to a guy who didn’t deserve it.

Here’s what I know: words aren’t going to fix this. But a plan will. Unfortunately, I’m still trying to figure that part out. So, until I have something concrete in place, I’m keeping this secret to myself.

The footsteps pause outside the bathroom door.

Shit.

My muscles brace on instinct.

“Kia?” Rina’s voice drifts through the door. A second later, she steps inside. Her expression fills with sympathy when she finds me on the floor. “Oh, honey.”

The relief that crashes over me is enough to make my shoulders sag. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d become until this moment. Rina grabs a clean washcloth from the counter and runs it under the water before crouching beside me. The gentle way she presses it to my forehead has my eyes burning all over again.

Even though we haven’t known each other long, we’ve bonded over our unexpected pregnancies. The shared understanding, unspoken fears, along with the strange mix of joy and terror that comes when you realize your life is about to change whether you’re ready or not.

Only, she has Oliver.

My brother is protective, loyal, and all in when it comes to this woman.

And I have⁠—

I squeeze my eyes shut and shove the thought away before it can finish forming.

I have myself.

That’s it. And for now, it’ll have to be enough.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I nod, even though it’s a lie.

Her gaze skims over me, taking in everything I’m trying to hide from the tremor in my hands to the sheen of sweat on my forehead. Without comment, she rinses the cloth and wipes the corner of my mouth before folding and pressing it into my palm.

“Was it any worse today?”

I shrug. “Nah. About the same.”

She lowers herself beside me, her back against the cabinet. This isn’t the first time we’ve sat like this. It’s funny. I never thought my brother would settle down. But he fell hard for the Railers’ PR manager. And I can see why. Rina has a way of making me feel less alone in all of this. Her presence has been an unexpected lifeline. One I’m grateful for.

“I should’ve checked on you earlier,” she murmurs.

“It’s not your job to babysit me,” I mutter, swiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My knees ache against the tile. “I’m fine. Really.”

She lifts a brow. “You just threw up like your body’s trying to eject your soul. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re not exactly fine.”

A weak laugh slips out.

God, I’m so exhausted.

Exhausted from pretending I can carry all this alone.

And I’m scared.

No. What I am is terrified.

Maybe Collin is right, and I should’ve ended the pregnancy, but the thought never lasted long. How could I do that? How could I choose to get rid of the tiny life already growing inside me?

It doesn’t matter how hard this is going to be or how alone I might feel while facing it. When it comes down to it, there was never a choice to be made. I’m having this baby whether he agrees or not.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

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Reckless With the Rookie (Love on the Line #6) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.ilovenovels.com/reckless-with-the-rookie-love-on-the-line-6-read-online-brenda-rothert Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:58 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/reckless-with-the-rookie-love-on-the-line-6-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Love on the Line Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

I already know more about Magnus Lundgren than I should. Thirty-one. Swedish. Bought his mother a house. Still uses a flip phone. It’s all on my spreadsheet, which I started to help my sister land a pro hockey player.
But then she got engaged to the team’s coach, and suddenly the man who was row one, column A of my spreadsheet is standing in my living room. He doesn’t flirt or chase, but he shows up every time I need him and sometimes for no reason at all. He lets my five-year-old drag him to the floor to play cars and helps me study for nursing school exams. There’s just one thing he won’t do, and that’s get attached to anyone or anything he can’t pack into a suitcase.
He’s made an art form out of keeping people at arm’s length. I’m freakishly good at keeping men out of my life entirely, because men who can find a reason to leave always do.
Nothing that feels this good lasts. Both of us know that. But no matter what chaos is surrounding me and my boys, Magnus keeps showing up. And I’m starting to see that the most dangerous thing he’s done isn’t making me worry he’ll leave, but making me believe he might be the one who stays

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Blair

* * *

My sister steps out of the fitting room looking like she’s modeling the wedding dress she’s wearing for a magazine shoot. Again.

“Another ten, right?” Suki says, looking at me.

“Like it was designed just for her.”

“Your boobs are ... magical.” Mara stares at Jules’s chest like a man with unlimited audacity.

Jules smiles at her. “Thank you. But you guys, I need critical opinions, too.”

The three of us study the sleeveless ivory gown, which has pink flowers embroidered on the bottom. Suki and Mara are newish friends Jules met through her job with the Cleveland Crush, which is also how she met her fiancé Noel, who coaches the pro hockey team. They quickly brought me into their group and it feels like we’ve all been friends forever.

“Well, it does draw attention to your shoulders.”

I flick my gaze to Lorraine, our fiftysomething stylist at the upscale wedding boutique. She’s looking at Jules over the rim of her glasses on a chain, and she seriously just said that.

“Her shoulders are beautiful,” I snap. “And she wasn’t asking you.”

My sister’s smile fades as she looks at her reflection in the floor-length mirrors surrounding the pedestal she’s standing on. Lorraine walks over to the pedestal, her attention focused on Jules.

“An empire cut would help disguise your tummy,” she says, her tone gentle.

My brows hit my hairline. “She’s a style influencer and you look like you’ve been haunting a creepy mansion for the last two hundred years.”

Jules turns to look at me. “Blair.”

“No, she’s right,” Mara says. “Nothing on your body needs to be disguised.”

“I apologize,” Lorraine says.

“Well, Lorraine,” Suki says. “This is the first store we’ve been to, but we have others in mind, too.”

Lorraine winces. Inwardly, I’m celebrating harder than a shirtless guy chugging beers at a snowy football game. Suki and Mara are protective of Jules, just like I am. Just because she radiates joy and confidence, that doesn’t mean shitty comments don’t hurt her.

“Is Jana here today?” Suki asks Lorraine.

“No, but I assure you, I c⁠—”

What little color our sales associate had in her face is gone now. Suki looks at Jules, who looks down before raising her chin and squaring her shoulders.

“I think we’re done here, Lorraine,” she says. “If I decide to come back, I’ll work directly with Jana.”

Lorraine pastes on a smile. “As the owner, Jana doesn’t usually handle fittings.”

“That’s too bad.” Jules gathers the dress’s skirt so she can step down from the pedestal. “The boutique is a major sponsor of the Crush. I wanted to support her with my business.”

“The ... Crush?” Lorraine looks like she may be sick.

“The Cleveland Crush? Pro hockey team? I’m the social media manager. That’s how I met Jana.”

“Really?” Suki furrows her brow. “I figured you knew her through Noel.”

“Noel Turner.” Mara gives Lorraine a fake smile. “He’s the head coach of the Crush.”

I stand from my seat. “That man is crazy in love with my sister. The last thing he would want is for any part of her to be disguised on her wedding day.”

Lorraine gives Jules a pleading look. “I’m so sorry.”

Suki and Mara both stand, too. Mara gives me a genuine smile. “I, for one, am relieved I won’t have to try on bridesmaid dresses after all that queso with a side of tacos.”

“Same,” I say. “And now we have enough time to try the cupcakes at that new bakery.”

“I’ll get dressed,” Jules says.

Lorraine leaves the room. I glare at her back, and then at the door she left out of.

“Aw.” Suki smiles softly at her phone screen, then turns it so we can see. “Look at these two.”

Lainey, who is married to Bash, one of the Crush players, sent a selfie she took of her and Talia, one of the team’s trainers. They’re both reclined in chairs, dressed in fluffy white robes. Both women have a pale-green clay mask on their face.

“Lucky bitches,” Mara says.

The team had four off days in a row, and Lainey and Talia are spending three days at a spa in Sedona, Arizona. Mara, who is seven months pregnant, is saving all her days off for maternity leave.

“Oh my gosh,” Suki says, looking at her phone again.

She turns the screen again, showing us a video of people skating at an ice rink. After a few seconds, I realize it’s her husband, Carter, Mara’s husband Leo, and Magnus and Isaac, who are all teammates. They offered to let my two sons hang out with them today while we shop. Carter’s girls are there, too, his youngest daughter in his arms.

Noel is there, too, and he’s showing my seven-year-old, Eli, something to do with skating. My heart swells at the same time my stomach churns.

My boys don’t remember much about their dad, who left a long time ago. I don’t allow men around them because I don’t want them getting attached. But Noel is marrying Jules, so he’s family. My sons adore him, but seeing Eli with Noel reminds me of kids with great dads, which my boys deserve but will never have.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

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Slap Shot Kisses – Seattle Knights Read Online Loni Ree http://www.ilovenovels.com/slap-shot-kisses-seattle-knights-read-online-loni-ree Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:44 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/slap-shot-kisses-seattle-knights-read-online-loni-ree Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports Authors: Loni Ree Advertisement

Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >45

He’s used to blocking the best shots, but she’s the one who knocks him right off his skates. Can hockey’s biggest hothead win over the one woman who refuses to play his games?

The season is over, and for these Seattle Knights’ players, the summer is just starting to heat up.

Meet the ultimate kings of the rink. They’re professional hockey players who are used to scoring on and off the ice. Spoiled, wealthy, and with egos as massive as their fan base, these athletes think they have the world on a silver platter. But when the season ends, three of Seattle’s finest players are about to meet their matches in the form of three sassy, fiercely independent, and unapologetically curvy women who aren't impressed by a fancy jersey or a hefty paycheck.

These women know exactly what they want, and they are determined to give these pampered playboys a serious run for their money. Pucks will fly, tempers will flare, and hearts will definitely get checked against the boards.

Lace up your skates and get ready to fall in love. The Seattle Knights are about to learn that when it comes to curvy women with a sharp tongues coming in second just isn’t an option

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

JAXSON

That buzzer slices through eighteen thousand screaming fans, abrupt and final, ending the siege. I don’t launch myself into the dogpile at center ice, not right away. I just lean back, helmet tapping the crossbar, chest pounding so hard it rattles in my sweat-soaked gear. The air in here tastes cold and sharp, like ozone, like victory, but it barely cuts the heat burning under my skin.

Forty-two saves. Another shutout. The cameras? They get the same old statue: focused granite, unmoving, the infamous “Ice Wall” keeping the Seattle Knights perched at the very top. That’s what they see. Inside, I’m trying to suck in air, lungs crushed flat by the weight of the game, praying my legs will hold when I finally stand up straight.

“Ice Wall! You beautiful, frozen bastard!” Mick McLinden, our captain, barrels into me, his glove slamming so hard against my shoulder pads my teeth rattle. He’s grinning already, wild and red-faced, the kind of smile that says he’s picturing the liquid gold of a post-game beer and the easy warmth of a win.

I tip up my goalie mask, and cold air sweeps over my drenched face like a bright knife to the nerves. I give Mick a sharp nod. My knees complain, dull ache pulsing with every heartbeat, but finally, I shove up out of the crease, skates biting deep into the scar-cut ice for the last time tonight.

You’d think shutting them out, again, might mean something. Maybe even make the bruises, the sweat, worth it. Instead, all it does is hollow me out. I’m counting the seconds until I can strip this gear, slip away from the noise, and vanish into my penthouse’s cold quiet. A couple of months into it, and it feels like this season’s been a steel trap with my bones caught inside. Every game blurs forward, white-hot spotlights, fans howling, that edge of need crawling along my heart, every win leaving me hungrier.

The handshake line waits, and I move toward it without really feeling a thing. I’m a machine running hot and dead inside. Gloved hands thump my shoulders, somebody slaps my helmet, and “hell yeah, Ice Wall!” echoes behind me, but it’s all just noise blurring into the background. Mick’s still eating it up, fist-pumping, grinning like a maniac, basking in the cheers. I watch him for a heartbeat, then drop my eyes to the ice and the fresh white track my skate just split down its face. I’m hollowed out, already over it, itching to get the fuck off the rink.

The tunnel is chaos, a wall of fans slamming up against the glass, hands reaching, voices going wild. Emerald and white everywhere I look. I keep my focus set on the dark open mouth of the locker room. People say I keep my distance to stoke the legend, make myself seem like more than human, but the truth is so much simpler. If I look up, look too long at a face, the act might shatter. The mask slips; I can’t let that happen.

Inside the locker room, it’s a shouting match, gear hitting benches, sweat-soaked everything, and the sharp snap of wintergreen riding on top of the stale funk of adrenaline and old effort. Teammates everywhere you look, a whole army of them, yelling, pounding each other on the back. But pulling off my jersey, I just get that yawning pit in my gut. A hunger and a heaviness that has nothing to do with being lonely. It’s the kind of ache that hits when you realize you’re the only guy out there with nobody waiting in the stands. No messages coming. Only the silence waiting.

Pull up your big boy panties and get your shit done so you can get your ass home, I tell myself.

I sit on the wooden bench, the steam from the showers beginning to cloud the air. My hands are still vibrating from the sting of a third-period slap shot that nearly took my thumb off. I stare at the calluses on my palms, tracing the map of a career built on staying very still while the world moves past.

“Hey, man,” Mick says, dropping onto the bench beside me, smelling of sweat and expensive cologne. “We’re hitting The Blue Line after this. You’re coming. No excuses tonight, Jax. It was a shutout. You earned a drink that isn't green healthy junk juice.”

“I have shit to do in the morning,” I spit out, and the lie comes out so easily. They always do. I’m not sticking around for the noise, the drunk pricks with their fists full of shots, or the rink bunnies, stick-thin girls prowling for a chance at a pro. I want none of it. I want the big, echoing silence of my penthouse, the kind that wraps around me and lets me breathe.

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Tempting Venom (Vipers #3) Read Online Rina Kent http://www.ilovenovels.com/tempting-venom-vipers-3-read-online-rina-kent Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:35 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/tempting-venom-vipers-3-read-online-rina-kent Genre: College, Dark, M-M Romance, Sports Authors: Rina Kent Series: Vipers Series by Rina Kent
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Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >160

From New York Times bestselling author Rina Kent comes a nail-biting MM dark romance between two hockey rivals.

When two ruthless enemies collide.

My name is Preston Armstrong, and I’m the most depraved bastard you’ll ever meet.
I take what I want, ruin what I don’t, and live exactly how I please.
That is, until I crash into the force of nature that is Marcus Osborn.
Captain of our rival hockey team, and the perpetual thorn in my side.
A migraine in human form and the one person who refuses to play by my rules.
He’s my brand of heartless and just as deranged.
I set out to crush him, his career, and his infuriatingly gorgeous face.
But Marcus hits back with equal force, turning our rivalry into a violent, addictive dance neither of us can walk away from.
We were supposed to annihilate each other.
Instead, we spark a fire that threatens to devour everything in its path.
In this battle of two unhinged souls, our bodies become collateral damage.
But I never expected our stone-cold hearts to get involved.

Tempting Venom is a male x male college romance. While this book can be read on its own, for a better understanding of the world, it's recommended to read Beautiful Venom & Sweet Venom first

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PLAYLIST

Snap Back – Twenty One Pilots

One More Night – Maroon 5

Obsessed – Kami Kehoe

Popular Monster – Falling in Reverse

So Far So Fake – DarkLux & Xizt

Fuck Me Like You Hate Me – Jutes

Red Line – 5 Seconds of Summer

Girl With One Eye – Florence + The Machine

Over Me – Camylio

I Can Fix You – Jutes

It Takes Two – Jutes

Specter – Bad Omens

Better – Villain of the Story

Ache in My Heart – Palaye Royale

Start Over – 5 Seconds of Summer

Secrets – Christian Gates

Letdown – Letdown

A Lonely Night – The Weekend

Give – Sleep Token

You can find the complete playlist on Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube.

PROLOGUE — MARCUS

AGE SEVEN

Ihate my birthdays.

They always begin with the same bleak reminder that the one thing I want the most is the one thing I can’t have.

Maybe I should change the wish. Try to see if I can make a better one.

One that doesn’t revolve around wanting something I can never have.

Too late now.

Mom’s slightly trembling fingers tighten around my clammy hand—or maybe it’s hers that’s all sweaty. Her usually affectionate touch is jaded, smothered by the consequences of my stupid wish.

I peek up at her, sinking my teeth into my lower lip.

Mom is still in her pale-pink nurse’s uniform, her white sneakers smudged from the walk in the rain and a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her jet-black hair is pulled into a ponytail, a few strands slipping loose around her face.

I love Mom’s face. It’s round and welcoming, accented by huge dark eyes that I see myself in and warm skin kissed by the sun.

She carries that faint trace of disinfectant, the scent I’ve loved for as long as I can remember because it means she’s home. My classmates say the smell of the hospital stinks, but for me, it means Mom’s hugs as soon as she walks in.

Doesn’t matter how worn out she is, Mom always smiles the widest when she sees me, falling to her knees to hug me and shower me with kisses.

“How was your day?” I’ll ask because that’s what she always asks me.

“Much better now.” She’ll sigh in my hair, hugging me again.

Mom works in the emergency room at the local hospital in our town, Stantonville. And because she works night shifts and overtime, she usually has panda eyes.

Like now.

Normally, she leaves me with Mrs. Rodriguez next door, but yesterday, Mom asked Dad to spend time with me.

Because it was my stupid birthday wish.

I waited by the window, peeking through the curtains all night long, holding the puck he gifted me last year, but I fell asleep, and Dad never came.

This morning, Mom found me sleeping slumped on the windowsill, grabbed my hand, and drove us here.

To Dad’s mansion.

I’ve never been here before.

The house looks as big as Dad. Too big. Like a castle. And…just far away, though it’s right in front of me.

It rises from the ground like it swallowed the whole street, with so many floors stacked on top of each other and countless windows and doors. Even the garden is wider and neater than the park back home. It looks as magical as the gardens in fairy-tale stories Mom loves reading to me.

I wonder if there are roses I can get for Mom.

“The least you could’ve done is tell me you weren’t coming, so I could’ve come up with alternate plans for Marcus.” Mom’s voice is bitingly low—the tone she always uses when she’s fighting with Dad. “A child his age shouldn’t be left alone.”

“He’s eight and grown enough,” Dad says in that dismissive way of his, the sound cutting through the air, although his voice stays controlled.

“Seven. Marcus is seven, Andrew.”

“Seven. Eight. What’s the difference? You’re being dramatic.”

I peek at Dad, not really daring to look at him fully. I don’t think he likes it—or me—that much.

Dad is tall and broad—so tall, both Mom and I have to look up at him.

We share the same cloud-colored eyes, except his are narrower, meaner, and barely shift. His light-brown hair catches the light from the thin sunbeam leaking through the clouds, nearly turning blond.

He hardly smiles or hugs me like Mom. He just looks.

Like now.

His gaze strays toward me, and I stare down at my blue-and-white sneakers Mom got me for my birthday last year.

Mom always tells me Dad is busy and doesn’t have time and that I should understand, but I think he just doesn’t like me.

“Dramatic?” Mom’s hand squeezes mine even tighter. “I’m dramatic for asking you to be a decent human being and treat your child right?”

“I give you money for whatever he needs, June. What else do you want from me?”

Mom releases my hand, reaches into her bag, and pulls out a few dollar bills, then throws them at his chest. “Fuck your money! Your son needs his father, not money.”

“Well, that’s all I have to offer him. I told you it would’ve been better to abort him; it’s not my fault you chose to keep the kid.”

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Tempted in Love – The Maverick Billionaires Read Online Bella Andre http://www.ilovenovels.com/tempted-in-love-the-maverick-billionaires-read-online-bella-andre Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:34 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/tempted-in-love-the-maverick-billionaires-read-online-bella-andre Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Bella Andre Advertisement

Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >92

She’s got a no-billionaires rule. He’s dying to break it.

Troy Harrington has Olympic medals, a billion-dollar sports empire, and a reputation for being the most irresistible bad boy in San Francisco. What he doesn't have? A romantic bone in his body. So when his meddling younger sister Gabby challenges him to a bet over who will fall in love first, Troy turns to the only woman he knows who can manipulate love like a science — billionaire matchmaker Michaela Killian.

Michaela built her matchmaking empire from both hard work and her understanding that dating — and marrying — a billionaire is a dream of possibly every woman on the planet. Every woman but her, that is. Michaela has deep seated reasons for her vow to never, ever date a billionaire. When Troy Harrington walks into her office asking her to find his sister a soulmate, she smells trouble. And when she learns it’s all part of a bet? Absolutely not. Well...unless Gabby agrees.

Of course, Gabby and Michaela can't resist having fun by flipping the rules: Michaela will agree to match Gabby with a billionaire client only if Michaela can also find a match for Troy. And in order for her to succeed, he has to agree to go on every single date Michaela sets up. No bailouts. No backing down.

Game on.

The only problem? Troy is a truly impossible Infuriatingly cocky, dismissive of love, and wholly uninterested in the idea of soulmates. Except, it seems, when he’s looking at her with his smolderingly sexy gaze.

Worse? Michaela is very, very tempted to look right back.

As their sizzling chemistry threatens to combust, Michaela faces the one risk she swore she'd never falling for a billionaire client. But Troy isn’t just any client. He’s the one man who could either make her believe in true love for herself again...or break her completely.

This slow-burn billionaire romance will leave your heart racing with forbidden attraction and one heck of a high-stakes bet!

TEMPTED IN LOVE is part of Bella Andre and Jennifer Skully’s bestselling series about The Maverick Billionaires. While it can easily be read as a standalone story, you'll likely enjoy reading the other books too

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Michaela Killian was the most beautiful woman Troy Harrington had ever seen. She was a tall woman, and her high heels—he’d glanced down long enough when he first entered to take the measure of those sexy spiked heels—turned her into a statuesque model, though she didn’t have the bone-thin structure. Not with those luscious breasts and delectable curves. Her midnight-black hair was twisted into an elegant knot on the top of her head, and his whole being ached to pull out the pins and see it fall over her shoulders in a silky wave. The darkness of her hair added depth and intensity to her lush green eyes, giving her a striking look that would turn any man’s head.

She had definitely turned his, almost making him forget his mission: to hire a matchmaker. Not that she was like any matchmaker he could have imagined. She looked not just like a million bucks, but a billion bucks. Which was probably how she got the title of the billionaire matchmaker rather than the fact that she was a matchmaker for billionaires.

His image of a matchmaker was someone much older, with cat’s-eye glasses hanging on a chain around her neck and a bouffant hairdo that would have been all the rage when she was young. But Michaela Killian looked to be only a couple of years younger than his thirty-five.

Troy certainly hadn’t expected her to steal the breath right out of his chest.

When he finally found his voice, it came out as a ridiculous croak. And his question had nothing to do with his matchmaking mission. “Do you get coffee at Santa Cruz Nine?”

His regular haunt sat on the corner of Santa Cruz Avenue and Highway 9 in Los Gatos, a quaint town next to San Jose. He’d purchased his home in the Los Gatos hills six months ago. The proximity to his San Jose office made sense, along with the fact that the community was nestled against the Santa Cruz Mountains, which were great for hiking and biking.

He knew her answer even before she tipped her head slightly and said, “Yes, I do frequent Santa Cruz Nine.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you there.” He sounded so suave—not.

His head felt foggy with her delicious scent, and his tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his mouth. And he was not a man who couldn’t find his words. Except with her. There was something about seeing her in this setting, smelling her instead of the scent of brewing coffee, hearing her velvet voice instead of the sound of grinding coffee beans.

She smiled politely. “Oh.”

So he hadn’t made any impression on her. None. But then, he usually came to the coffee shop straight after his run, with sweat plastering his dark hair to his head. And who the hell knew how he smelled?

Then again, every time he’d seen her, she’d been on her phone, talking, checking email, maybe even going over her task list for the day.

He heard that for the excuse it was; he was just trying to shore himself up after learning she hadn’t noticed him.

Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “Yeah, I go there a lot. I live up in the hills.” Wow, great conversationalist here.

She didn’t miss a beat. “I have a townhouse nearby. The coffee shop is convenient on the way to my office. And the hills are out of my price range.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a smackdown. But even if she couldn’t afford the hills, buying a townhouse in Los Gatos, a rather expensive bedroom community, was no mean feat.

Her business must be doing well, her office elegantly furnished with teak furniture, comfortable chairs and sofa, colorful prints of faraway destinations, a minimalist desk beside which she stood, and a state-of-the-art computer ready for her touch. Her third-floor window offered an enchanting view of a creek below, its babbling waters glittering in the early June light, exuding serenity and perhaps promising she would make all her clients’ dreams come true.

She was not only doing well for herself, she was smart. Amid the colorful travel posters hung her Stanford diploma, the words with distinction clear to him, which meant she’d graduated at the top of her class.

Beautiful, accomplished, and highly intelligent. What more could a guy ask for in a matchmaker?

“And how may I help you this morning, Mr. Harrington?” she asked in that sweet but sexy voice that made him forget how to speak. Until she tapped a pencil on the desktop with a hint of impatience.

Oh yeah. Now he remembered why he was here. His mission.

Finding out his mystery woman from the coffee shop was his matchmaker had thrown him, but he pulled himself back on track. “My friend Dirk Pendergast gave me your name.” Troy had done his Olympic training with Dirk, who was now blissfully wed, thanks to her.

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The Comeback King (Necessary Roughness #1) Read Online Riley Hart http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-comeback-king-necessary-roughness-1-read-online-riley-hart Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:28 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/the-comeback-king-necessary-roughness-1-read-online-riley-hart Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Sports Authors: Riley Hart Series: Necessary Roughness Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >84

Lucas
To my dad, Hunter King is a football prodigy destined for greatness.

The son he always wanted.

To me, Hunter King is the guy I’ve loved most of my life.

The guy who happens to be my dead brother’s boyfriend.

We were kids when Hunter came into our lives—the boy with the skill my brother didn’t have and the drive I lacked. The one who was always kind to me, who cared about my photography when, to my dad, it was a hobby, not worth anyone’s time.

Looking at the world through the lens of my camera is the only thing I’ve ever wanted.

Other than Hunter King.

Hunter
I would be nothing without the Blakes. Coach Blake nurtured my football talent from high school through college and now professionally. For all intents and purposes, he was my father. And when I started dating his son Ellis, it felt like I truly became part of the family.

But since Ellis died, nothing feels right anymore—not even the game I’ve always loved.

Until Lucas walks back into my life.

With each lingering touch, I feel sensation returning. Every kiss breathes air into my lungs. And for the first time in three years, it feels like my heart starts beating again.

But with every embrace, I’m betraying Ellis’s memory. The media, my team, Coach Blake will all condemn me. I’ll no longer be their Comeback King. I’ll be the man who is sleeping with his dead boyfriend’s brother.

Yet none of it is enough to make me stop.

The Comeback King is the first book in a new series. You can expect big feels and a secret relationship with pining and learning to love after loss

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Hunter

Everyone at practice seems to know each other—or at least know someone else—except me. I feel them watching me, feel them wondering about the new kid who transferred freshman year to a private school he couldn’t afford without a scholarship, not on this side of town. None of them have said shit to me yet, probably because they know I don’t belong here, other than on the football field. I’m really good at football.

“Hey…you’re Hunter King, right?” A guy steps up beside me. He’s got a golden tan, light brown hair, and brown eyes. He smiles at me the way you do with a friend. A real smile. The guy feels like he’s bursting with sunshine, which is weird—like that boy-next-door shit, the perfect kid with straight A’s, tons of friends, and everything a person can dream of, but also like he doesn’t let it go to his head.

“Yep.” I cross my arms, watching the guys run drills. We’re practicing in shifts for now—it’s the first day of tryouts and the coaches need to see what we’re made of.

“I saw you earlier. You’re even faster than they said, but like, have good brute strength too. The all-around running back who can do anything.”

I chuckle, surprised that I do. It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that, and it’s true, but often it annoys me. Usually, it feels like someone is saying it because they want something from me, because they don’t expect me to be as good as I am, or because they’re jealous. I don’t know this guy, but he doesn’t seem the type. There’s something genuine about him.

“Thanks. What position do you play?”

“The bench.” He laughs in a way I could never do if I’d said the same thing. “My dad wants me to be quarterback, but I’m not good enough to actually play.”

“I can practice with you sometime,” I find myself offering. I turn around and look behind me like I expect a second Hunter King to be standing there because those words sure as shit didn’t come out of my mouth. Only there’s no other Hunter there, and I did in fact say them.

“Really? That’d be cool. Thanks,” he says, just as he’s called out to the field. He jogs away, and I realize I didn’t even ask him his name.

He’s right, though. He’s not very good. He doesn’t have the athleticism of most of the guys out here, but it’s clear how much he wants it, how hard he tries.

I like him. He’s real in a world where most people aren’t. I want to help him get better. For some reason, I want this guy on the team with me. I want to be his friend. It’s weird as shit because I don’t typically think that way, don’t decide I want to be friends with someone, but I want it with him. Feels right.

When Coach calls me onto the field, I jog out, heart racing, excitement ready to explode out of me. This is what I’ve always wanted. Playing on such a good high school team, then going to college, before I’m drafted. Nothing will stop me from making my dreams come true.

And just like I wanted, I kill it in practice, showing them everything I can do.

“Hey,” I say to the kid who’s like sunshine in a bottle, once we’re in the locker room. “Wanna stay late and practice? I just have to get to the city bus by eight to get home on time.” Since I don’t live close, my mom and I are responsible for my transportation. Mom brings me to school in the morning, but she’s on evening shifts now, so I have to take the bus, then walk home, which she hates. It makes her feel guilty, when she has no reason to be. She works her ass off to make ends meet, but it’s hard to do alone. When my dad died, that changed everything for us, and she’s been playing catch-up ever since.

“Really?” he asks.

“You don’t have to, but if you want, I’m down.” All I ever want is to play football.

“Yeah. That’d be cool. My mom is already here to pick me up, though. Do you want to come to my house instead?”

There’s no doubt in my mind this kid has money, that we live in totally different worlds. I should tell him no, that I have to go home—also because my mama will not be happy with me going to some random person’s house. But I want to play football, so I shrug and say, “Sure, but as I said, I have to be at the bus station by eight.”

“You ride the bus home?” There’s no mocking in his tone, simply curiosity, but my back stiffens.

“Not all of us live like you.”

“No, I didn’t mean… Shit. I’m sorry. I sound like a douchebag.”

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The Nanny Game Plan (That Steamy Hockey Romance #5) Read Online Lili Valente http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-nanny-game-plan-that-steamy-hockey-romance-5-read-online-lili-valente Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:10:18 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/the-nanny-game-plan-that-steamy-hockey-romance-5-read-online-lili-valente Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Lili Valente Series: That Steamy Hockey Romance Series by Lili Valente
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >104

What do you do when the gorgeous older hockey player who rocked your world last Saturday night turns out to be your new boss—and the single dad of the sweetest little girls you've ever met?

You stick to the game plan. Obviously.

Dean Kane needs a nanny for his girls. I need a job with solid health insurance. We already agreed the age gap between us is too "gappy" for anything more than a little fun. So, we put our steamy mistake behind us and focus on what's best for the kids.

No stress, no mess, no falling in love.

Easier said than done when he turns out to be the guy of my dreams...

But I'm only twenty-four! I'm not ready for this man, these wounded babies, this whole beautiful, terrifying package. I have a rule against dating single dads for a reason—several reasons, actually, most of them named "my stepmother."

They're just hard to remember when Dean feels so much like home.

Soon, I'm one backyard dance party away from torching the game plan entirely, and I know I have to get out. Fast.

Some games aren't worth the risk.
Even if sitting this one out feels like the biggest loss of all

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

One

DEAN WITHERSPOON KATE

A responsible, devoted single dad

on the verge of making some

risky (and racy) decisions…

My mother is a force of nature.

When Hurricane Eliza blows onshore, you have two choices—get on board with whatever she has planned, or get the hell out of her way. When she blew in two months ago to help me through the most hellish time of my life, I was relieved.

Now, I do my best to get out of the kitchen before she spots me by the freezer, hunting for ice cream when I’m supposed to be out “doing grown-up shit.”

“Dean Witherspoon Kate, what are you still doing in this house?” she demands, flicking on the overhead light.

I wince, cringing in the sudden glare. “Deciding that eating ice cream and watching The Naked Gun makes me feel more like a grown-up than going to a party?”

“Nope! Out. Now.” She points to the door, snapping her fingers twice before pointing again. “This instant.”

I motion to my grungy brown sweater and sweatpants. “I’m not even dressed!”

“You’re a man, it’ll take you two minutes. Jeans. Black sweater. Run a little gel through your hair, and you’re out the door by eleven. You’ll pull up right when the fun is starting.”

“How do you know when the fun starts? When’s the last time you went to a party, Ms. Workaholic?” I ask, dancing away as she comes at me with the magazine in her hand, swatting in the general direction of my ass. “Okay! Fine, I’ll go. I’ll go.”

“Don’t just go. Go, and have a good time,” she says. “I’m old. I’ve had my share of parties, thank you very much. I was snorting cocaine off your dad’s bald head when you were just a twinkle in his balls.”

“Mom!” I shoot a pointed glance toward the stairs, where the kids are asleep. “What if the girls heard you saying shit like that?”

She rolls her tired blue eyes. “Oh, please. Those sweet babies have no idea what cocaine is. And when they’re old enough, I’ll tell them what it is and why it’s a bad idea.” She sighs. “Nearly as bad as marrying a man twenty years your senior, who drops dead of a heart attack while cheating on you with a girl even younger than you are.”

I close my eyes, muttering beneath my breath, “I liked it better when you were still hiding your checkered past.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you turned thirty-five,” she says, parking a hand between my shoulders and pushing me toward my room. “Thirty-five is old enough to handle an adult conversation. And to handle being a single dad and learning to live again. Frederica would want you to be happy again, son.” She pauses in front of my door, patting my back with a firm one-two. “She wanted that before she was dead. I bet she wants it even more now that she knows how time flies.”

I sigh, but don’t argue or ask her to take the bluntness down a notch.

My mother doesn’t do pretty lies or even pretty truths. She lays the facts out as she sees them, stripped down and naked in the harsh light of the Eliza sun.

I’m sure she’d be gentler with me if my ex and I hadn’t been out of love for a long time before Frederica died in that plane crash. Or if she hadn’t died on the way to her honeymoon with another man.

As things stand…

Well, I’m lucky my mother’s been as patient with my moping and wallowing as she’s been thus far.

But I can’t help it. I wasn’t in love with Frederica anymore, no, but she was someone I loved for a long time. More importantly, she was the person my girls loved most in the entire world.

I don’t know how I’m ever going to love Ava and Bella enough to make up for that kind of loss.

The thought keeps me up at night, worrying, stewing, researching new therapists because I’m pretty sure the one they’re working with now isn’t helping them process anything except how much they like playing with the dolls and trains in her office.

Last night, I was up until nearly one in the morning looking at nanny agencies. I have a part-time service lined up for the next month, but I need long-term. I can’t pull off an NHL career and being a full-time single dad without help, and Mom has to go home. She’s already been here for almost eight weeks. If she stays remote much longer, her clients will mutiny. Mom’s the best divorce lawyer in our hometown. She has half a dozen court dates coming up in February alone and has to get on that flight back to Minnesota on Monday. No more delays.

I’m dreading her leaving nearly as much as I’m dreading this party…

Though—bright side—once she’s gone, there won’t be anyone around to shove me out the front door with shouted orders to “cut loose a little, for Christ’s sake. I didn’t raise you to be a fun-hating prude.”

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XOXO Summer (The Season Sisters #1) Read Online S.L. Scott http://www.ilovenovels.com/xoxo-summer-the-season-sisters-1-read-online-s-l-scott Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:09:56 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/xoxo-summer-the-season-sisters-1-read-online-s-l-scott Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports Authors: S.L. Scott Series: The Season Sisters Series by S.L. Scott
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)

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I can’t decide if my new summer tenant—a devastatingly handsome hockey player and single dad—is the answer to my problems or the start of a new one.

When big-city developers threaten to buy up my small town, I need to save the rental cottage next door from demolition. I have a plan . . . until Daniel Sutton checks in.

Six-four, a face chiseled by the gods, and a body built by a career on the ice, I’m knocked sideways. He’s charming with me and adorable with his son. And when we touch, it’s electric.

But two things change everything. The pipes break in the cottage, and his agent calls. Before I can stop myself, I’m offering him a place to stay, and Daniel is offering me the answer to my problems. He’ll buy the cottage for me if I help him clean up his reputation.

Sounds simple enough. But when I start to fall in love with him, even though I know he’s leaving in a few months, it’s suddenly more complicated than ever.

I’m willing to take a chance on us and pour my heart into a letter. But with him skating on thin ice, he’s going to have to sacrifice something—me or his career.

I just hope XOXO, Summer isn’t the last thing I ever get to say to him

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

FAITH SEASON

TWELVE SUMMERS AGO . . .

“Shh,” I whisper, pressing my finger to my lips. I’m met with an array of giggles—my favorite sound in the world. My four girls.

The quilt topples over my forehead until I push up with my hands to see their beaming smiles and eyes bright from the glow of the battery-operated lantern in the middle of our little circle. “You’ll wake your dad.”

Charlie’s wide awake and will want the full rundown when I return to bed, but the girls like to feel like they’re getting away with something, even if it is innocent fun.

Autumn’s red hair trails over her shoulders as she anchors the blanket on the bedpost again to support the fort.

My littlest’s laughter bursts as if it’s too much to contain when Spring scores a match in Go Fish. She’s eight, so it probably is. She’s a lightning strike of a personality, commanding attention even when she’s not demanding it from her sisters. Winter clamps her hand over Spring’s mouth quicker than she gives up the card. “Be quiet, Spring.”

“It’s okay, Winter,” I whisper. “We can still have fun. We just need to keep the volume lowered so Daddy can sleep. He has an early meeting in the morning.”

Spring sticks her tongue out at her older sister and then giggles, quieter this time.

“Do you have a peacock, Mom?” Summer asks. I glance from my cards to my oldest. My sweet Summer with eyes that match the blue skies to her golden sunshine hair. Reaching over, I caress her cheek and laugh. “Go fish.” My kindhearted child smiles, bringing one to my face as well. She’s been my buddy, my sweet girl, and a great helper over the years. She gives up too much of her time, so I hope one day she can find the joy in living life for herself.

I’ve lived my whole life trying to walk a straight line that was never there, trying to blend in since my mom always stood out in this small town. Once I realized I didn’t need to live up to other people’s expectations, I found my own happiness and never looked back.

Looking at my daughter, I’m not sure when my Summer girl started growing up on me, but here she is, all of fourteen and carrying the world on her shoulders. “Hey, you,” I whisper, contorting my face. It takes a nudge of an elbow to finally win a laugh out of her. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close. Teenagers are tough to amuse, so I count this as a victory. “I love you.”

“Love you, Mom.”

I whisper, “I want you to always remember that you’re strong in mind and resilient, but that doesn’t mean you have to walk life’s path alone.”

“Who will I walk with?” So sweet and innocent.

“That’s in the hands of destiny. You’ll know when you meet them.” I turn to meet her eyes. “They’ll be the one who is there when you need someone most.”

When I release her, she smiles, and my heart clenches. Time is a fleeting traitor. They’re all growing so fast, faster than the blink of an eye. But I see the young woman she’s trying so hard to become that these moments of frivolous fun feel more precious.

I take my necklace off, the little gold chain with the tiny butterfly, and hold it out. “I want you to have this.”

Her eyes widen as she stares at the small pendant. “But that’s your favorite necklace.”

“That’s why I want you to have it, Summer.” She angles her back to me and sweeps her hair to the side. I clasp it around her neck, and when she turns back, the butterfly lying against her skin, I know I made the right decision. It wasn’t planned, but seeing the genuine smile it brings to her face and the way her eyes turn brighter under a layer of tears makes me glad I did. “Looks beautiful on you.”

She throws her arms around me, burying her forehead into the crook of my neck and causing our fort to topple over. “Thank you, Mama.”

Mama. It fills my heart to hear her say it once more—like she did when she was younger. With the blankets fallen over us, I hug her back. “Take care of it just like you take care of your sisters, okay? Promise?”

“I promise.”

The unexpected moment is broken by another round of giggles from the other girls, who are calling dibs on everything from my measuring spoons to my pearls.

They might not realize it yet, but I’d give them anything they wanted. Family is everything to me, and these four girls are my heart and soul.

CHAPTER 1

SUMMER SKY SEASON

TWELVE SUMMERS LATER . . .

“Are you going to finish your breakfast, Summer?” Two more sausage links roll off Dolly’s red spatula onto my plate before she holds it up with pride. The kitschy café-inspired kitchen is my grandma’s arena. Silicone, metal, and wood cooking utensils are her weapon of choice. If she had her way, like she did having us call her Dolly, I’d be rolling out of here like those links just did.

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