Kim Findlay - Crossing The Goal Line

Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher. ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries. www.millsandboon.co.uk Version: 2020-03-02

Introduction “Go get some gear on,” Bridget ordered. “Seriously?” “Chicken?” she asked. Mike laughed. He felt like a seven-year-old being dared. “So what position am I supposed to play?” “I thought you were a goalie,” she taunted. Challenge accepted. He wasn’t sure what she thought she was trying to prove, but he could handle a girl in road hockey, even if his game had been off lately. “So what are the rules?” he asked once they’d strapped on their pads. He tapped his stick on the pavement. “I’m going to score. You’re going to try to stop me. Play to five?” “We’ll need to stop before that. You’re not going to score.” She was good. He had to give her that. Much better than he’d expected. Mike, however, was better than good. He was one of the best. He was soon in his zone, watching her every move and expression. She didn’t score, though she came close. After fifteen furious minutes, Bridget called time. “I guess I owe you an apology.” Mike looked down at her. “It’s okay. I admit to provoking you. And this was actually a lot of fun. You’re not bad—for a girl.” He grinned at her. “You’re not bad, either—for a...for a guy from Quebec.”

Dear Reader Dear Reader Contents Cover Back Cover Text About the Author Title Page Copyright Introduction Dear Reader Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE EPILOGUE Extract About the Publisher , I’m so excited you’ve joined me for my first Harlequin romance! The sports world offers compelling stories. There’s the athletes’ dedication and the amazing things they can accomplish. There are the fans who live and die with their teams, a loyalty that transcends geography and success or failure. It doesn’t hurt that athletes are by necessity in top physical condition. Combine all that and you get some great settings for romance. In this story, Mike Reimer is a successful hockey goalie, but past experience has convinced him that his commitment to his sport makes relationships untenable. Since he’s dealing with a crisis of confidence in his play, that has to be his first priority. Still, he can’t help but notice Bridget O’Reilly when she dives into his life...and falls in love with his car. Bridget is a former competitive swimmer now channeling that drive into coaching. She understands the passion it takes to win because she shares it. As Mike gets back to his championship form, his future is leading him out of Toronto. Bridget, however, has her family and her own dreams in the city. Is either of them willing to risk it all for the other? To share your own love of sports, the people who play them and the stories they generate, please find me at kimfindlay.ca , on Facebook at kimfindlayauthor or on Twitter, @missheyer74 . Kim

Dedication For my parents and sister, who let me read, and my husband and sons, who let me write.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

NOT EVERYONE WHO had red hair was short-tempered. That was just a cliché. Bridget knew she was pretty even tempered, despite having bright red hair. Of course, she wasn’t perfect. There were a couple of things that could set her off. One of those things was Wally the Weasel, and he’d done it again.

Bridget shoved open the door out of the pool area and stalked down the hallway with all the authority one could muster in a swimsuit and flip-flops. She reached the Weasel’s office at the far end and, of course, he wasn’t there. Bridget shoved her glasses back up her nose with her finger, and huffed a breath. She had no doubt he’d carefully timed his morning activities to miss her. She’d have loved to stay and wait him out, but she had her own timetable.

She glared at his desk, and then turned and stomped out. Fortunately, this was the quiet time of day at the exclusive athletic club, so she didn’t meet anyone. Making nice to the members was never her strongest suit, and was close to impossible when she was angry.

Once she returned to the pool, she began to relax. She was back in her world. It might feel claustrophobic to some, but she was perfectly comfortable here. The chlorine-infused air was moist and the place echoed with the slightest sounds of the water’s movement in the pool. But in this world, she was confident, and one of the best at what she did.

Tad, the pool assistant, had finished setting up the lane swim markers that had sparked Bridget’s fit of temper, and was sitting on a bench, looking at his phone. She’d swear that kid would expire without that gadget. He was living dangerously: water would destroy it. She never had her phone in the pool area for that very reason. One had only to lose a couple, or five, and the lesson sank in.

“Tad, get the boys,” she called across the pool. Tad looked up guiltily, nodded and scurried into the men’s changing room. Bridget went into the women’s room, and found her four female charges. They were small, and very nervous. Bridget squatted down to look at them at their level.

“Hey, there, I’m glad to see you all got into your swimsuits. We can come out to the pool now, but you can be near the water only when there’s an adult around, okay?”

They nodded, but no one started moving. They were a little hesitant, which wasn’t surprising. She smiled reassuringly, grabbed two little hands, and led the way.

Tad had brought out four little boys. Three were looking at her apprehensively, while one was staring around like he owned the place. It had been years since Bridget taught beginners, but she recognized the signs. He was going to be one of those.

Bridget noticed someone swimming in the lane Tad had set up, but that was not her focus now. These eight kids were. The pool was supposed to be used only by her for the next forty-five minutes, so the Weasel, snob that he was, was up to something. He’d been opposed to the idea of this class from the beginning.

Читать дальше