Playing for their country in the Winter Olympics is the highest of all honors, but when family members are pitted as rivals and a dark specter from the past turns up in Beijing, tensions run high, and abruptly, it’s not all about the hockey.
Jared is torn—assistant coach for Team Canada, with Ryker on the team; he bleeds red and white and wears the maple leaf with pride. Only Ten is now a rival, and not just that, but the country they’re all playing in frowns on his marriage and keeps him and Ten apart. Jared wants to win gold for his country and his son, but he’d be so proud if Ten were to win. He’s confused and concerned, but when a face from their past turns up to play, he’s furious.
Being picked for Team USA is one of the things Tennant dreamed of when he was a little boy. All of his other aspirations have come true through hard work, determination, and pure talent. Now he’s about to represent his country in front of the world, and the pressure is starting to build. He’s also just come face-to-face with a hated rival from a dark period in his past. Add in the burden of squaring off against his husband and stepson, and Ten is feeling the pressure to be perfect.
Family becomes rivals—but love always wins.
First of all, I couldn't think of a better book to review for the final day of the 2022 Olympics. I've loved the hockey universe RJ Scott & VL Locey has created since the very first entry, Changing Lines(Harrisburg Railers #1) and to have an Olympic set entry with Jared and Ten is like adding a heaping scoop of your favorite ice cream on a warm slice of apple pie: divine!
Those that follow my reviews will know that I'm not really a hockey fan except during the Olympics(I actually prefer the women's games but I watch the men as well) so you can imagine how extra special fun Rivals was for me. If you're a hockey fan, then I'm sure you're well aware the NHL didn't actually send any players this year(which for me made it better, I liked the whole amateur level of so many college players) and Scott & Locey obviously wrote this novella before that announcement but that's okay because Ten and Jared are my favorite pairing in their hockey universe so it's all good.
I won't give too many details away, other than we get to see a few extra characters popping up from their hockey world, who most were some of my favorites so that's another tick in the treat box. As you can guess from the title and the blurb, Ten and Jared are on opposing teams: Team USA and Team Canada. Many authors would have went for the dramatic overkill of that scenario but not these ladies. Oh, don't get me wrong there is drama, drama that needed to be addressed eventually and I couldn't think of a better way to present said factor(this is one thing I won't spoil). So we have drama, but we have fun, we have love, we have friendship, we have country spirit, we have humor, and like so many of their stories, we have plenty of heart.
Ten and Jared just continue to grow stronger with each hurdle they face and my love for them does too. I can't wait to see what Scott & Locey have up their sleeves next for the duo and for their hockey universe as a whole. Brilliant fun all around.
Side Note: If you're new to this world they've created, I highly recommend reading the series in order(here's a link to the authors' website reading order). You many not be lost if you haven't read the previous entries but you will certainly be missing some key facts and emotions that make the journey flow smooth, not too mention all the great reads you'll be missing out on.
Chapter One
Jared
“The name is wrong on my bag.” Ten shoved his Team USA kit bag onto the bed, right on top of my neatly folded T-shirts. “I filled in the form Madsen-Rowe and look!” He pointed at the single word ROWE that appeared in several places on the bag. I gently picked it up, and placed it to one side, then smoothed out my small supply of official team shirts in all their red and white glory. Ten had been a flurry of motion today— the last few hours before attending the All-Star game, and then flying direct to Beijing— and he hadn’t stopped since three this morning when he’d woken up flailing and muttering about bacon. God knows what he’d been dreaming about, but if it involved his beloved bacon, then it had to be serious.
“I’ll get you a marker, and you can add the Madsen,” I teased, but I hadn’t read the room, because Ten slumped to the bed, only just missing my folded tees.
“I miss Charlotte already, and we’re doing this huge thing, and they can’t even get my name right.”
Okay, this was serious, so I picked up the shirts and placed them out of harm’s reach, then sat next to my fretting husband, hugging him, and resting my cheek on his hair. “I miss her as well,” I murmured, then felt and heard his whole-body sigh.
“I know she’ll be fine with Mom— spoiled— and I know it’s only a while, but I wish she was coming with us, and I wish they’d gotten my name right. It’s like they forgot I’m married.” He suddenly tensed; “Holy shit, what if my jersey is wrong as well.” He stood then, shook me off, and raced out of the room with a resounding, no fucking way!
As soon as he’d gone, I checked my official duffle, and thankfully, saw that the full name was stitched onto it.
“Something else that makes Canada better,” I said smugly to no one, and then realized that I should be more upset on Ten’s behalf. The fact we had been picked to represent our countries on opposing teams hadn’t come between us in any way— apart from the constant teasing I got from the Rowe brothers with their stupid-ass childish “USA is better” chant in the family chat, which I could mostly ignore. I took the higher ground and simply sent them a picture of the Canadian team in 2014, which was my way of saying “take-that-team-USA”. Funnily enough, both the Rowe boys and I ignored 2018— some things were best not spoken about, and we were all getting tired of Stan waxing lyrical about the Russians.
There was a healthy rivalry among us all, friends and family alike, but in my heart I kind of dreaded the aftereffects of losses where national pride was concerned. Canada wasn’t just my birthplace, it was in my heart, and I was proud of my heritage, and being chosen as one of the Team Canada assistant coaches made me want to burst with pride, and of course I wanted to beat Team USA soundly. But as Ten’s husband, I wanted him to win because I was so proud of him, and he was one of the best players of his generation, and he deserved to win. But then, Ryker was Team Canada, and to see my son win a medal would be the pinnacle of hockey-dad life.
I already had a gold medal from 2014, part of the victorious Canada team, although to be fair, I’d ridden the bench for most of it. Still, I’d played in that final game, and I’d been part of the team that had taken gold. I wanted that for Ten, but I wanted it for Ryker as well.
I was confused, and patriotic, and then more confused, and then a proud spouse, and father, and friend, and really, all I wanted to do was get to Beijing and start coaching some hockey.
The entire Railers team had ended up at our place to watch the opening ceremony. Depending on whether a player had been at the All-Star weekend, guys like Ten, Tate, and Stan, wouldn’t be arriving until a full three days after the opening ceremony, but with an intense season and not a day to spare no NHL player would make the grand beginnings of the games at all. So instead, every single one of us had stared in awe at the beautiful Beijing National Indoor Stadium and cheered as our various teams behind the flags of our countries passed by. Stan cried, which not even one of us laughed at. This was overwhelmingly intense.
It was disappointing, and maybe we got a better view watching it on the TV, but still, to have been there, parading for our countries? That would have been awesome.
Ten arrived back with his cell phone to his ear; “… and that’s non-negotiable!” he snapped, and then ended the call with a terse goodbye.
I winced. “Who were you shouting at?”
“Ed, our team equipment manager,” he groused, and then his eyes widened. “Shit, I just shouted at poor Ed, the wonderful, amazing, team equipment manager.”
I stayed quiet— Ten was placid off the ice, passionate about his sport, but he was never rude, and I could see all those emotions passing over his face.
“Shit,” he said again, and then pressed redial, and slunk out of the bedroom, probably so I didn’t hear him apologizing to Ed, who was a perfectly nice man and didn’t deserve anyone being a diva. I carried on packing, knowing the bulk of what we needed would already be in Beijing with the start of the tournament only a week away. We’d practiced some, shifted lines around, but none of the teams had real ice time after the qualification rounds.
My biggest issue was with the final six D-men I was going to recommend to Abraham Devers, the Canadian head coach for the duration, who coached for New York in the season. I already had a short list of seven from the pool I’d been given, but I’d not physically played with any of them, and the notebooks I’d filled with details weren’t making the picture any clearer.
I’d even taken to checking out social media to see what the fans said, but I got stuck on the Ten! Watch website, reading on the forum about how the sexiest player in the world was Ten, and how no defenseman from any country could touch him. Of course, I agreed with the sexiest part, and felt a sudden urge to kiss some of his stress away. Still, I had a few defensemen who made Ten work hard, him and Tate Collins both, and yet again, I went from angsty to proud and back again.
“Ed’s forgiven me,” Ten dropped his cell onto the bed and sat down so heavily I swore the frame creaked. “I told him about Charlotte, and the way that…” He stopped and scrubbed his eyes.
I tugged him in for a hug, then did this complicated flip maneuver that had him under me, his mouth slack with shock. Then, I proceeded to kiss him soundly, and after a short while, he relaxed into the mattress. We didn’t have time for more, but this was enough to ground him and me.
His cell chimed with a familiar tone that he had for his family. We scrambled up together in panic, and he answered it immediately. The video call connected, and we were face-to-face with our beautiful daughter, who stared at the screen and then pointed at us.
“Dadda! Pappa!” she said, and then turned away, probably to talk to Ten’s mom, Jean, who shuffled into view so we could see them both.
“Hey, Lottie!” Ten called, and Lottie gave the widest grin, holding up a toy bear and waggling it at us. She was over a year now, and while she was linking a few words, it was mostly sounds and waving toys. She was everything to us. She was bigger than us, bigger than hockey, and worth more than any Olympics— and that was what we needed to remember.
“We just had pancakes,” Jean announced.
“You did?” Ten said, and his grin was so wide I wondered if it would ever leave his face. “Lottie? Yummy?” he asked and made smacking noises to indicate eating.
Lottie stared at us, babbling about her teddy, but she too was smiling, and that was a nice image to take with us when the call ended.
“So, what did Ed tell you?” I asked after a short pause.
Ten flushed in embarrassment. “My jerseys have Madsen-Rowe on them,” Ten said and lay back against the pillows.
“So, it’s just the bag that Team USA messed up on?”
He shot me a wry look, then sighed. “I overreacted.”
“Yep.”
He sighed some more, then we exchanged an extra kiss. We weren’t even flying out to Beijing together, me stuck in one more planning session, Ten jetting out first class after appearing in the All-Star game. He was proud to have been invited to the All-Star— an event where a ton of specially invited players went up against each other in things like hardest shot, or fastest lap. It was just bad timing that it was right before the olympics.
I laced my fingers in his. “I’ll miss you,” I murmured, and pressed my forehead to his. We’d done everything together for so long, apart from the Stan/ Elvis Christmas road trip, which I still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for. The thought of not being together was unsettling.
“I’ll miss you, too.”
“We’re lucky that at least we’re going to be around each other, Stan spent an hour in the chat talking about how Erik is staying back here.”
“Was that before or after he talked about how Russia is best.”
We both chuckled then because since he, Ten, and Bryan Delaney, the Railers’ second goalie, had been signed up by their countries, Stan had been like a broken record.
“I need to finish packing.” He rolled off the bed, and I had to restrain myself from tugging him back and pinning him down so I could get some more kisses. Instead, I settled for watching him tuck one of Lottie’s tiny teddies into his bag, and then doing the same for me. Finally, we couldn’t delay things any longer, and it didn’t help that a team car was outside for him, and he really had to go. I stopped him at the door, grasping his hand.
“Good luck,” I murmured into a kiss.
“Good luck,” he whispered. Then, he lifted a single eyebrow and, with his best impersonation of Stan, growled: “USA best,” then darted away before I could squash him like a bug. He waved as he got into the car, and I waved, making a heart with my hands and sighing as the car went through the gates, watching them close behind him.
Now it was just me, and my car wasn’t going to arrive for a while. I couldn’t join Ten at the All-Star Game, instead I was heading out to a coach’s camp, so I didn’t know what to do with myself. I tidied away a few of Lottie’s toys, checked I had everything I needed, checked it again, locked up the house, unlocked the back door to relock it, just so I knew it was done. Anything to kill time.
Finally, I checked some game tape. Only it wasn’t for Team Canada. Nope, it was my old favorite— the first time Ten had gotten back on the ice after his accident.
I had it bad.
Which was good.
The airport was manic, but at least we didn’t have the fanfare on leaving that Team USA did— boarding from New York, there were crowds of supporters. While we did have some fuss, we weren’t Team USA flying out of an American city, so the players got some attention, but luckily, myself and the other coaches slipped through mostly unnoticed. That meant I got to sit and chat with our head coach, and while Abraham Devers was normally a rival on ice, this time I could talk frankly about the D-men I was working with and the three who were giving me issues. The players were at the back of the plane, us at the front, along with a couple of the figure skating coaches, and thankfully, we could use the time to talk.
“So, the three we need to discuss?”
“Jennings, Hennessey, and LaFleur,” I reeled off the names easily enough, and Devers nodded. “My instinct is to keep Hennessey in reserve.” At only twenty, he was the youngest of the three, and was so damn fast no one could keep up, but what we lacked in defense was the big guys, the ones who could protect our forwards— protect Ryker. Not that I was thinking that way, I was a professional, and Ryker was one of several forwards who needed protection. We had to go for bulk and brawn over speed sometimes.
“Agreed, I like what Hennessey brings to the table, and we can switch him in if needed. It’s the US side we have to be careful with, Tate and Ten.” He side-eyed me, and I waited for him to ask me if I had insider information, but all he did was smile. “Tate and Ten, the dream team,” he added. “But we have Ryker, and he’s a chip off the old block, don’t you think?”
Enormous pride welled inside me, but I didn’t give anything away.
“I couldn’t say,” I finally offered.
We bumped fists, and then Devers sat back in his seat, iPad on his chest, staring at game film. “This could be our Olympics,” he mused.
I sat back as well, lovingly hugging my clipboard with the penciled-in names, my bible of skills, my list of awesome, and let myself imagine for a moment Team Canada getting the gold. Then, getting a squirrely feeling in my chest at the thought of Ten not winning, and then, thinking about Ryker, again.
Fuck my life.
This could be rough.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Owatonna U
Boston Rebels
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
Rivals #11
Harrisburg Series
Owatonna U Series
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