Perfect Gifts
Summary:
Harrisburg Railers #12
Family comes first in all things. Whatever the cost.
Ten had always heard the saying, “Out of the mouths of babes,” but he hadn’t expected it to hit home as it had. After a comment from their daughter, Ten and Jared ponder an addition to the family. Moving into the adoption process is nerve-wracking and riddled with anxiety—kind of the way the Railers have been playing as of late. Bringing two young men into their homes and hearts won’t be a smooth ride. But with patience, humor, and love, the bumpy road might just be a little easier to travel.
Expanding their small family was always in the cards, but no one could have foreseen the process clashing with the worst ever start to a Railers season. A string of losses, a vital player missing from the defense, a captain in the emergency room—and winning a single game seems impossible, let alone getting the team to the playoffs. Faced with hard decisions, Jared refuses to take his work home, but it’s difficult when your husband is at the leading edge of the losing streak. His focus fractures when one sibling they’re matched with is frustrated, angry, and has a healthy dose of mistrust.
Jared and Ten’s parenting skills are tested, but they’ll do anything to make a place in their home the perfect gift for two children lost in the system.
Valentine's Hearts
Summary:Owatonna U #5
Will broken hearts replace the wedding they dreamed of?
Ryker's heart has space for three things—his family, hockey, and Jacob. As their wedding grows closer, it seems that nothing can stand in the way of an idyllic celebration, surrounded by friends and loved ones. But things appear to be changing; Jacob is forging a future that might take him away from Ryker, and Ryker alternates between pride and fear when a new man comes into his fiancé's life. A hockey season from hell has him doubting his life choices, but worse, he's driving Jacob into another man's arms. How has their perfect life suddenly gone so wrong?
Life has certainly thrown many twists and turns in Jacob's path. Most of the goals he’d set for himself as a teenager had to change, but one has remained constant: finding his heart's desire and marrying him. That aspiration was reached when Ryker said, "I do". Planning their wedding was meant to be the best time of their lives, but Jacob unwittingly puts his trust in the wrong man and finds himself in danger. Is their love strong enough to survive the fallout?
Snowed
Summary:Boston Rebels #3
A second chance at love is all Kyle wants for Christmas, but a dark menace from his past wants him dead, and love is second to staying alive.
Kyle Lourenco has carved out a comfortable life and career for himself in Boston. With the holidays quickly approaching, he’s heading home for the first time in several years. Home to his loving parents and the small Canadian town where he was raised. And home to Christian, his best friend and the first man to steal his heart.
Just as a winter storm begins to blow in, it forces Kyle off the road only miles from home and a dark and sinister force from his past creeps ever closer. His only hope is getting to Christian’s cabin before the evil that has haunted him for years finally catches up to him.
Best friends since they were three, Christian Gauthier grew up next door to Kyle, in a remote mountain town with one stoplight and a forty-mile round trip to the nearest school. When Kyle left town for a shot at a professional hockey career, he took Christian’s heart with him. Even though he knew Kyle was always destined for bigger things, it hadn’t stopped Christian from falling for him as soon as he knew what love was.
With Christmas coming soon and a major snowstorm heading their way, Christian shuts the doors to the family store and heads to his cabin, where he will be on standby as an official volunteer for Search and Rescue. He has never regretted staying in Eagle Ridge, but a near miss on a simple rescue leads him to reevaluate everything, and when Kyle ends up at his door, he knows that guarding his heart might not be the best solution after all.
On Thin Ice
Summary:
Chesterford Coyotes #2
A young adult hockey romance filled with making amends, family, friends, and discovering the real person inside while juggling the crazy, upside-down world of high school.
Jonah Robinson has really messed up. He’s spent the last year hanging out with someone who wasn’t leading him in a good direction. Now that Felix has seen the light, perhaps it’s time for Jonah to do the same. Making amends is not going to be easy when he’s not exactly been the nicest guy at Chesterford. With the help of his family and a special friend at the school, Jonah is ready to try to make things right with those he wronged. The first person on that long redemption list is Tyler, the brightest player on the Coyotes, at least in Jonah’s eyes. He’s taken a thousand pictures of Tyler for the school paper, but he’s going to have to learn how to develop more than just negatives if he wants to grow close to Tyler.
Tyler Corrigan’s dad has left, his mom is terrified he’ll come back, and it’s Tyler who’s left to keep his little family in one piece. The only respite from real life is playing hockey, and he’s an important part of the Chesterford Coyotes. Despite not being the biggest person on the ice, speed is his superpower, and the team has his back during the worst of the bullying he’s had to endure. His friends make him feel safe when his real world is full of fear, but no one can protect his heart when an awkward and messed up Jonah—one of the worst of his bullies—is suddenly around every corner, wanting to make things right.
Sorry can be a difficult word to believe, but trusting your heart is everything.
Original Review November 2022:
Gotta start by saying: YAHOO!!!! Another Railers holiday tale!!!!
The authors may have tagged this a Christmas Railers novella but it actually encompasses multiple holidays including Turkey Day and that is a holiday that is rarely touched on, or at least not nearly enough. That right there is worthy of 1 bookmark alone. Being Harrisburg is worthy of another. What gave it the other 3? Read on.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: love, love, LOVE men who care for kids! Seeing Ten and Jared's family grow is so heartwarming, watching them tackle fostering and adoption of older kids turned me into a big puddle of sappy goo. Now that's not to say this leg of the crowned Princes of Scott & Locey's hockey universe is cliche by using the term "sappy" oh no, no, no, no. Sure some moments may seem cliche but that doesn't make it bad. With so many health issues in our family, status quo or cliche, is often a welcomed treat so when I say "sappy" all I'm really saying is "can we bundle those boys in layers and layers of bubblewrap so harm never comes to them?"
Soren and Milo are amazing! Milo is the quintessentially adorably loveable little boy. Soren is the epitome of "give me your best shot and I'll tell you what for" chip on his shoulder older brother. Some might say Soren is a little brat but not me, what I see is a scared boy having to be older than his years to protect his little brother. He's thrown for a loop when he meets Ten and Jared and it raises his guard up even higher. Now I'm not going to say more because despite this being a holiday novella and Scott & Locey are always about the HEA, I don't want to spoil any of the journey the Madsen-Rowe household embarks on, just know that your heart will thank you for the experience. Seeing little, itty bitty Lottie walking and talking and being all kinds cute is plus.
How can I write a review for a Railers tale without mentioning one of the funniest scenes I've read in ANY story in a long time? Adler and Stan loudly discussing naughty Valentine gifts as Ten tries to shut them up as a reporter is only 10' away. How can that not leave you ROTFLYAO? Trust me, I'm glad I read this when I was at home and not in the waiting room at Mayo Clinic, they may just have had to call security because I would literally have been on the floor laughing hysterically. Thank you, ladies for including a convo that could only work with Adler and Stan.
The hockey universe consisting of Harrisburg, Owatonna, Arizona, & Boston Scott & Locey has created should be read in order, especially those involving Ten and Jared. Will you be lost if you read Perfect Gifts without having read any of the other universe? Probably not but there are other characters mentioned and seen who make a lasting impression if you know their individual stories as well. None of the stories will leave you sorry you picked them up. Just so much yumminess all over the place and I don't mean just the sexy times, but overall heartwarminess(yeah I know that's not a word but I think it sums it up pretty spot on).
Valentine's Hearts
Original Review February 2021:
First and foremost: WOW! WOW! and WOW AGAIN!
I've always had a special place in my heart for Ryker and Jacob. Maybe it's because Ryker is the son of the original entry and character in Scott & Locey hockey universe, Jared Madsen, maybe it's because Jacob is a farmboy born and raised from the upper Midwest, maybe it's because they are just so darn cute . . . or the most likely scenario: a combination of all three. In my mind, there is just not enough Valentine's Day stories, despite reading so much romance it doesn't seem to be a holiday that gets a lot of settings so when one of my favorite series and characters were getting their own Valentine novella, I knew I had to read it.
I was not disappointed.
For a holiday wedding novella, there is a surprising amount of drama that our couple faces and though I won't go into just what that drama is, I will say that Ryker and Jacob deal with it realistically, heartwarmingly, and flat out beautifully, which is a perfect example of why I love these guys, this universe, and these authors. I won't say anymore other than to add, once it happened I had a hope where it would end up, or at least be mentioned and I was right. Cryptic, I know(as I often say "no spoilers from me"), but once you read it you will understand where my hope stemmed from.
Ryker is growing, both on and off the ice but he still has that hot headedness that comes with having that much talent at a young age and can leave one a bit reckless when your head isn't entirely on the ice as it should be. Jacob is growing as well, finding his place in the "desert" but never quite losing that need for the farm, truth is there is more to Jacob's place at the university but I don't want to give too much away so I'll just stop here in that regard. Together they are a force to be reckoned with which is expressed amazingly well when they face the future.
Valentine's Hearts is the latest entry in the authors' Owatonna U series but since Ryker has appeared in all three series that make up Scott & Locey's hockey universe, there are some character relationships and cameos from multiple entries. Does that mean you have to read all 19 previous books before this one? No, but as a series reader I know I enjoyed it more having read them all in order as written. If you haven't been reading this universe prior to Valentine's and 19 sounds like a big number, I do highly recommend at least reading Ryker and Christmas Lights of the Owatonna U series as they tell Ryker and Jacob's story so far. A true reading gem and definitely worthy of it's place in RJ Scott & VL Locey's hockey universe(serious ladies you need an umbrella title for that😉😊😉).
Snowed
Original December 2021 Book of the Month Review:
What can I say about Snowed? Hmmm? . . . Going home is always a treat at the holidays(even if the character is uncertain of their return). Second chance at past love can definitely bring about equal moments of new and nostalgia. Forced proximity is always a possibility here in the north, after all Mother Nature is a fickle . . . well let's just say she's fickle who has no sense of the clock or one's schedule. Throw all these factors together and you have yourself a powerfully emotional journey of discovery with just the right balance of mystery to make Snowed not your typical holiday fare and yet somehow it is typical in the sense of what makes a holiday story "holiday": HEART. Trust me there is plenty of heart in Scott & Locey's latest addition to their hockey universe.
Now, if I was to break it down a bit, well you know I won't do too much of that as this is a spoiler-free zone but I will give a little insight. Kyle is coming home after being injured on the ice but he isn't too sure how welcomed he will be especially by his ex, Christian. Christian stayed when Kyle left to pursue his hockey career and now that fate has left them stranded at Christian's cabin will they be able to talk and discover what has been missing from each of their lives in their years apart? You know you'll have to read Snowed for yourself to find that answer .
I hinted at mystery earlier and yes there is something that doesn't quite add up about Kyle's "mental blocks" for the lack of a better term here and they can definitely tug at your heartstrings and want to wrap Kyle up in Mama Bear Hugs till everything is all better but sometimes we have to experience the pain to find and appreciate the joy, fictional characters are no different. Okay, perhaps they tend to have more than their fair share of pain but in my experience that actually helps me work through things in my own life, course it also at times makes me want to whack them upside the head with a cast iron skillet.
Back to the mystery element, I love how it's believable, it's not forced to fit the characters or the setting, it's not thrown in to give Kyle and Christian an extra level of drama. It may not happen every day but it is believable, hurts one's heart but still very possible.
There may not be much hockey in this entry to the authors' hockey universe but it does make for a perfect beginning, it hooks you and pulls you in. And where this story goes is what truly makes the whole book a delightful gem. Can't wait to see where Scott & Locey go next.
On Thin Ice
Original Review October 2023:
I've been wracking my brain(and yes I know I could just look it up on my kindle but why go the easy route?😉) to recall if the authors let us know that book 2 would be Tyler and Jonah's journey but I remember being certain it would be when I read Off the Ice. I was not disappointed because the only thing keeping Tyler & Jonah from replacing Soren & Felix as my favorite pair is that S&F came first and in a multi-couple series, the first is always my favorite.
Unlike Felix, Jonah did not have a dysfunctional homelife that lead him down the path of bullying, for him it came down to peer pressure, following the pack, not quite having the courage to say "enough!". It may not make his behavior in book 1 acceptable but it does show that the ability to change is present. There were signs of his heart in his scenes in book one so watching just where his heart and thoughts are in book 2 is absolutely lovely. The scenes with his little sisters says it all, they may only be a few but for me how a brother treats his little siblings can go a long way to setting a characters' worth.
Tyler has not had it easy at home or at school thanks to the likes of Miles and one time followers, Felix and Jonah. But now that Felix has found the courage to walk away thanks to Soren and Jonah is trying to follow Felix's path, school should be easier but Miles is still around and seeing as Miles(and many in the school) believe it was Tyler who turned the bully in will it really be better? For that answer you have to read for yourself. As I stated, Tyler's homelife hasn't been the best either but breaking free of his dad's hold in their life gave both Tyler and his mom a chance at building a better future, but that doesn't mean they can just flip a switch and it's all hunky dory, it takes time but Tyler is definitely a determined youth.
Together the boys find a new way forward, though it's neither easy nor instant but perhaps that is what makes it worth fighting for all that much more sweeter. I just want to wrap them both in tight Mama Bear hugs until everything is perfect but life is about learning and growing, we readers can only do so much in the wanting to protect department. On Thin Ice is a very lovely and honest journey of growth and happiness which can make it sound and seem very adult at times. They do have to grow up sooner than most but they still are teenagers at heart, Scott & Locey do a brilliant job of balancing their youthful friendship and eventual romance with the angst that forces them to face that adulting a little sooner than many of their classmates.
As I started with not remembering if the authors' clued us into who would be at the heart of book 2 at the final page of book 1, I can say here in On the Ice we briefly met Shaun and Kenji who we know will have their story told Spring of 2024 and I can't wait. I may not read much in the young adult genre, with a few exceptions(Anne of Green Gables comes to mind) I probably have only read a handful since I myself was a young adult(as I turned to the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steel, and Jackie Collins by the time I was 15) so I hate to make comparisons to other YA stories, especially in the LGBT area. Perhaps I'm a little biased for 2 of my favorite authors, RJ Scott & VL Locey, but I think they do an amazing job delving into the youthful storytelling in Chesterford Coyotes and of course it's definitely worthy of the Scott & Locey Hockey Universe moniker. A true delight from beginning to end.
Perfect Gifts
“So, where do we think she got on the brother kick?” Jared asked as he stirred some of the honey that Adler’d brought us into his mug. Ad had taken up beekeeping. Why? Not a clue, but we all suspected that it was so he could brag about having a big stinger in the locker room. They’d found out Layton was allergic, so he watched the bees from a distance.
“Probably at the indoor playground over in Camp Hill earlier,” I said while dunking a Stella D’oro cookie into my tea. I’d have a few. Cookies were not recommended by the Railers nutritionist as healthy afternoon snacks. “She was playing with Michelle Khan.”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Khan just had a baby,” Jared replied, then added one more dollop of honey to his mug. “A little boy.”
“Yep. She was cooing and cuddling the baby until we left. She even skipped the jungle gym and slide to tickle tiny Joey’s chin.”
Jared’s eyes flared. Lottie never passed the jungle gym and slide. Ever. I’d had to climb in a time or two to extract her when it was time to go. Jared—the old D-man that he was—was too burly to fit. The parents who had gotten to witness a hockey player trying to wedge his shoulders into a skinny tube with monkeys painted on the sides had found it pretty amusing. As had the local press the following day. Nothing says professionalism after just signing a new multi-million dollar contract like being photographed wriggling through the monkey tumble tube.
“That explains it,” he commented as he began thumbing languidly through his daily read of The Patriot News online. The man looked sexy AF in those reading glasses.
“Yeah, I guess.” I nibbled on my cookie, my phone showing a half-read article in The Athletic waiting for me to return to it. “You know we could consider it.” That brought his gaze up from the local news. He studied me over the top of his DILF glasses. “What? It’s not as if we haven’t discussed having another baby. It was kind of always our plan.”
“Well… yes, I know we’ve discussed it.” He removed his glasses, folded them, and laid them by the cookie box. He assessed me intently. “Do you think it’s something we should look at more closely?”
“Maybe?” I reached for another cookie, my sight darting from the cookie to Jared to the window where the glass was coated with a touch of frost around the edges. Fall was here, and it was glorious. We had pumpkins to carve, cider to drink, and Halloween costumes to decide on before the end of the month rolled around. “I mean she is here alone all the time.”
“She’s not alone. She has us, a nanny, and now, a dog.”
“Well yeah, I don’t mean like we Kevin McAllister her or anything, it’s just…” I plucked the cookie from its wrap, then dunked it quickly into my tea, hurrying to get the shortbread treat to my mouth. I chewed, then swallowed. Jared sat across from me waiting patiently for me to make my point. “Okay, so, and never tell them—especially Brady—but having siblings to grow up with was pretty nice. Most of the time.”
Valentine Hearts
One
Jacob
My eyes burned. And no amount of rubbing them was helping.
“… the same thing all the time? Maybe we should experiment sometime. Do some hot and sour soup or beef and broccoli.” Ryker’s voice broke my concentration. I sat up, scrubbed at my face with my fingertips, and focused on the proposal that’d fallen to me to type up. Why me? I was the newest guy.
“Yeah, we should,” I called back to my fiancé who was dishing up our late lunch/ early dinner in the kitchen behind me. Mind snapping back to work from Ryker, I stared at my laptop resting on my thighs and tried to pick up the threads of what was, in effect, a groveling letter from the U of A ag department to the company that’d been paying us to research and report on their seeds and would hopefully continue to do so. I began typing, blocking out everything and everyone in my space.
Furthermore, through our technology differentiator we have made great strides in understanding the microbial interactions of the latest Bygenta BG Triple Grow which have allowed us to lower the cost of drying time by 0.07 per bushel. Combining that with the higher yield growth and moisture advantage we see a possible change in bushels/ acres needed to recoup additional seed cost from $ 3.81 BU/ A to $ 3.27 BU/ A. Further testing on Bygenta BG Triple Grow should show significant gains for hybrid high yield corn seeds if combined with above ground technology to combat the Southwestern Corn Borer. Additional testing could save farmers millions of dollars a year in management costs and—
The lid of my laptop snapped shut. “Hey,” I snarled. Ryker lifted the Dell from my thighs, placed it onto the coffee table, and then took its place. “I was in the middle of something.”
“I know, you’re always in the ‘middle of something,’ even on the weekends. You worked on Christmas Day and yesterday— and they were our two days off together.”
“I didn’t,” I lied.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you take your phone into the bedroom and then not come out for an hour.” “I was…” I had no excuse really, because I’d been checking on overnight reports, but that was the job, and I had a deadline that coincided with Christmas Day, and then more on the twenty-sixth. Then I recalled a fact that made his accusations seem wrong. “How do you know what I was doing? You were in a turkey coma on the big day.”
“A turkey coma that would’ve been better snuggling with you on the sofa.” He was making it sound as if he was joking, but there was an edge to his tone. Why didn’t he get that I needed to put the hours in— the same as he’d done getting to be a pro hockey player? He’d done the hours, still did them, and now it was my turn. I had all that defense in my head, but he didn’t give me a chance to talk. “Eat.” He settled squarely on my lap, a huge bowl of chow mein in his hand. I huffed at the interruption just as my stomach grumbled. “See, you’re hungry.”
He held the green ceramic bowl out to me; his dancing hazel eyes alight. Sighing, I took the bowl as he plucked some chopsticks out of his back pocket. Cradling the bowl to my chest, Ryker wiggled his ass around a bit then gathered up some savory noodles, bok choy, and a fat mushroom and led them to my mouth. I opened and let him drop the food in. Then he gathered some for himself, and then for me, and so on. We sat chewing, staring at each other, the weight of him on my thighs pleasant and arousing. When his tongue danced over my lips I grunted and wished we didn’t have our meal between us. He licked in when I opened my mouth, moaning. He tasted of soy sauce and ginger.
“Do we have time?” I asked breathlessly when the kiss ended. He opened his mouth to reply just as his phone alarm sounded. We both mumbled in disgust. “Guess not.”
“Sorry, we have a game tonight.” He dropped a dry kiss to my brow and jumped up, leaving the chow mein behind. “We’ll pick this up when I get home, yeah?”
“Sure, yeah.”
His smile brightened the room. “Excellent. Finish that up. You’ll watch the game?”
“Of course. Go. You know how Coach gets when you’re late.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something more but he just nodded then ran off to change. Within minutes he was in a suit, his shades on, earbuds dangling round his neck, and his hand on the doorknob. I was still on our tan couch holding the bowl of takeout.
“Are you sure you can’t come to the game? Maybe we could go out afterward? Check out that restaurant that we were talking about having the reception at?” He stood waiting at the door.
“I have to get this proposal done or I’d go,” I explained for the fourth time. He forced a smile and bobbed his head, soft curls falling over his sunglasses. “As for that restaurant, I thought we’d decided it was too expensive for the reception.”
“No, you decided it was too expensive. But whatever. I have to go.”
I let the jab roll off my back. There were few things Ryker and I argued about, but money always seemed to be a problem. He tended to spend without thought, and I held onto every penny. I knew it was because of our childhoods. He’d grown up with Jared Madsen as a father, a hockey superstar who could afford to give his only child— at the time— anything he desired, from hockey equipment and cars, to cash for college. Then there was my childhood on a struggling dairy farm, wearing the same chore coat and boots until my feet busted out of them because my parents couldn’t afford new ones. A farm that my parents had ended up losing. The cost of this wedding was a constant source of contention.
“Ryker, don’t get pissy. I’m just saying—”
He threw a hand into the air then left, the slamming door jarring me. I blew out a long breath then pushed to my feet, tossing the bowl of takeout to the end table. I padded to the window to watch him. He stalked out of our brick building, cut through the small flower and cactus garden, and headed toward the arena. We could see it from our window. Brow dropping to the warm glass, I stared down at him until he disappeared from view.
“When will you learn to just shut up?” I asked myself then lifted my head and stepped out onto our tiny balcony. There was room for one chair and a tomato plant out here. I knelt beside the plant and touched the dirt. Dry. Everything out here was always dry. Heaving a sigh, I stood, went to get some water in a glass and my laptop, and came back out to give Mr. Roma a drink. Then I sat beside it, legs stretched out in front of me and I watched the sky for the longest time, wishing I had handled the most recent tense moment with Ryker differently.
“I just have to chill out, let him do the wedding his way, and everything will be fine,” I said to my tomato plant. “Just stop fighting him about costs. I mean, who cares if we blow every penny in our savings account? What’s financial security compared to having four hundred guests and shrimp canapés? What the hell is a canapé anyway?”
Mr. Roma just sat there in his pot, soaking up the sun. Man, I wished we had a dog. I missed dogs. I’d grown up with the best farm dogs. There was nothing like a dog at your side. They listened much better than a tomato plant. But there were no pets allowed here. To be fair, a small apartment with two men who worked/ travelled all the time was no place for a dog. For a dog, we’d need a house. For a house, we’d need a down payment. For a down payment, we’d need to stop planning an extravagant wedding and put the cash aside. And here we were back at money again.
“Ugh.” My head dropped back to the brick wall. Mr. Roma was no help at all. “I bet an Early Girl tomato plant would have had better advice.”
My phone buzzed against my ass. Hoping it was Ryker calling before he entered the dressing room to say he was sorry, I lifted an ass cheek and yanked the cell free of denim. I was monumentally disappointed to see that it was Adam Isaksson calling— my boss and lead on the Bygenta study. The millionaire tech giant was all about sustainability, and determined to change the world— I felt honored to be part of this new future at inception, and he valued my input on all levels.
“Hey, Adam,” I said as I flipped open my laptop and found the document I’d been typing before the Ryker/ chow mein interruption.
“I’m glad I caught you. Do you have that proposal for Bygenta done?”
I looked at the mostly blank screen. I had two paragraphs. Did that count as done? Doubtful. My gut began to churn.
“I’m working on it.”
“Good! Finish it up then bring it to me and we’ll polish it tomorrow. They’re eager to see our results so far over in the main office. I’ve told them about the incredible work that this team, and you in particular, have been doing. I’m calling everyone to ensure all the data has been double and triple-checked. After we’re done we can grab dinner somewhere and discuss your future with Bygenta Agrochemicals.”
On some surface level, it was nice to have him speak so highly of me. I’d been working my ass off on this project, and Adam had been supportive of all the time and energy I’d put into my work. Unlike Ryker, who only bitched about my job. Still, if I went to his place to work tomorrow Ryker would come unhinged. I sensed that Ryker disliked Adam for some reason he wouldn’t cop to.
“But tomorrow is Sunday. I have plans with Ryker to ride out to the ten bakeries he has on his wedding list and—”
“Jacob, I know it’s the weekend, and I’m sorry for calling you in, but this is too big a chance for you to miss out on. If it’s any consolation, I had to cancel a dinner date with my mother in Tempe. And you know how much I love spending Sundays with her.”
Yeah. I did know. Adam Isaksson was close to his mother and spoke of her with great affection. I’d learned a lot about Adam over the past few months of this massive study. If I could just wrap this job up with a stellar report, Adam had promised to drop my name when he reported to the main Bygenta office in Switzerland. Maybe I’d get a higher position with more pay, then Ryker and I could stop fighting over cash all the time.
Now I felt doubly shitty. “Sorry. I know this sucks for all of us. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Jacob. Tell Ryker I’m really sorry for ruining your plans.”
“He’ll understand.” I lied a huge lie. Even Mr. Roma knew it and was judging me in silence as only a tomato plant can. “See you tomorrow.”
I cut the call and then let my phone slither down my chest to my leg, then onto the cement. Great. This would not go over well. We’d had Christmas and the twenty-sixth off together, but that had been caught up in Skype calls, and visits, and turkey, and tomorrow — the one day Ryker had off before a Canadian road trip — I get called into work to prepare for some asshole from the main office in some other country. Gazing at Tucson’s arid mountain backdrop, I longed for Minnesota and the soft lows of cattle. It was seventy degrees in January. No way would I ever get used to the lack of seasons.
I missed snow and cold so much I could taste it. This city and this small apartment were chafing at me. I needed a big farmhouse, acres of corn and soy to tend to, cattle to milk, calves to bottle-feed and raise. I needed a dog.
“Nothing personal, Mr. Roma.” I reached over to pat his green leaves. There was no wagging tail or lick of my hand. Blowing out a breath that puffed up my cheeks, I opened my laptop, rolled my head, winced at the cracking of my neck, and dove back into the world of dry data and ass-kissing. This whole Arizona experiment was not working out as I’d envisioned. It was midnight when Ryker got home.
I was waiting up with a sour stomach, a fake smile, and a tray of chicken tenders right out of the oven. He’d had a very bad game, monumentally bad, according to the play-by-play man, not that I saw all of it, because reports waited for no man.
“Hey,” he said after tossing his jacket and tie to the back of the couch.
“Hey. Sorry about the loss. Boston is always tough,” I said while sliding his tenders off the cookie sheet and onto a plate. He eyed the tenders suspiciously. “I knew you’d be down after a rough game so…” I waved at his favorite food then served him the plate. “Blue cheese or ranch?”
“Ranch. I really shouldn’t be eating this kind of stuff,” he whispered as he lifted a tender from the plate and broke it in two. “I’ll be doing ten miles on the treadmill tomorrow.”
“You’re pretty dedicated to your diet. A treat every once in a while won’t hurt.”
He smiled then blew over the half a tender, sitting on the kitchen counter. I unscrewed the lid to the dressing then squeezed a big dollop onto the edge of his plate. He rewarded me with a smile— the most beautiful smile on the planet. I’d better cherish it because once I told him about tomorrow it would be gone.
“You always know how to make me feel good,” he said. I had to look away. I’d never been good at deceit. “What?” When I worked up the courage to glance back, his brow was furrowed like a well-worked wheat field. “You might as well tell me.”
“Don’t get mad.” As soon as I said it I knew it was stupid to say that. His sleek eyebrows dropped into a ‘V’. “I can’t go visit bakeries tomorrow because I have to go to work.”
There was a harrowing span of like fifteen seconds where he said or did nothing. Then he flung the dish of chicken tenders to the counter.
“It’s Sunday. You don’t work on Sunday. We set this up five weeks ago because it was the only Sunday I was home and not playing.”
“I’m sorry, I am! I just… Adam called and said we need to get this update into Bygenta and—”
“Fuck that project, fuck Bygenta, and fuck Adam! This is our wedding, Jacob! Do you even care about it at all?!” His gaze snapped with anger and pain.
“Of course I care!” I fired back, feeling like a lowlife bastard.
“Do you? Do you really care? I’m killing myself with the planning and playing hockey and all you do is shoot down and shit all over everything I propose. What the hell kind of wedding do you want? Do you just want to go stand in front of some JP?”
“Maybe! At least that would be sensible. We’re supposed to be saving for a house, Ryker! And kids. How do we plan to make all of that happen when we toss every penny we have into this stupid wedding?”
“Nice, so it’s ‘stupid.’ Good to know.”
“I never said the wedding was stupid.” Fuck, I had said that. Shit. This was spiraling out of control quickly. “I didn’t mean the wedding is stupid. I want to marry you. I want us to have what my parents have and yours have. It’s just all this pomp and circumstance is… well it’s stupid. You’ve fallen into the trap.”
“The trap.” He said it so emotionlessly that I knew I was deep in the shit. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Yeah, a trap. The wedding industry has warped peoples’ minds. My folks had a small wedding at home. The pastor came to my grandmother’s house and married them, then they had their reception in a hay barn followed with a short camping trip by a nearby lake. Why can’t we do that? Why do we have to have canapés and silk tablecloths and two entire hockey teams?”
“Wow, so this close to Valentine’s Day you decide to finally be honest with me. That’s fucking great, Jacob.” He threw his hands into the air, hurt and ire rolling off him in waves that seared my flesh and heart. “Just so you know, I’ve always wanted a big wedding.”
“I know, trust me. It’s all you talk about,” I snapped, and his eyes widened. “It is! Ever since I asked you to marry me, you’ve told me over and over about how you wanted to find a pretty girl, have a big wedding, spend a couple weeks in Europe, and then settle down to raise kids.”
“I never specified it had to be a girl!” He was jacked now and so was I. “I mean shit, Jacob, you’re a gay man! Aren’t you the least bit into having the kind of wedding that straight couples have been able to enjoy forever?”
I rolled my eyes. His jaw tightened. “I don’t care about all the bullshit that goes with marrying you. I just want to marry you. I want a house and a dog and kids.”
“So do I!” he shouted and I winced. “And I want a wedding to be proud of. Not some hayseed hootenanny in some miserable barn.”
Ouch. Shit, that hurt. “Right okay, well, maybe we should just rethink this whole thing then since my dreams of a wedding are so below your standards!” Now I was yelling.
“Maybe we should!” He spun, grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, and headed to the door. I gaped at him as he stalked out into the hall. “I’m going to Alex’s.”
He jerked the door shut. My hands were fisted in rage and so I did the one thing I could think of. I stuffed the chicken tenders down the sink, flipped on the garbage disposal, and ground them up. Then I fought back tears for a minute or two or ten.
Snowed
It took me a few moments to clear my head and make an assessment. Other than my shoulder, I was okay. Sore and trembling but safe. Thank God for seatbelts. If I’d not been strapped in, I would have been flying through the windshield and kissing a tree. That thought made me queasy. I tried the windshield wipers. They made one pass then died. It was just enough to see that the front of the Explorer was bent around a fat fir tree.
“Great,” I moaned, easing my right hand down to free myself from the seatbelt. Powder from the airbags filled the interior, making me cough and sputter. The headlights were still on. Which was good. Sitting here in the woods alone in the dark made me edgy. The unseen could be lurking in the forest, silent, like the wolves that prowled the muskeg, forests, and tundra of Manitoba. There was plenty around home that could kill you that didn’t dwell in your nightmares. “Fucking great.” I checked my phone for service even though I knew there wouldn’t be this far from Eagle Ridge during a blizzard. “Fuck,” I snarled, which ignited a new pain in my neck. Super, so I now had whiplash as well as a re-fucked shoulder. “Asshole moose.”
I knew the area well. I had to get somewhere warm and call for a tow truck. There was little to be done for my shoulder. That would have to wait until I could get to Churchill where they had a pretty decent health center. It would set me back a few weeks. I gave it another ten minutes then my headlights began to dim. A deep, unsettling unease crept into my chest. Without the lights on the dash or the headlights, the darkness would descend.
Grabbing my Rebels duffel, my childhood stick, and the bag of presents for my parents, I took the keys from the ignition and exited the car. Snow whipped around me, tiny bits of ice mixing in with the flakes to scour any exposed skin. Thankfully, I had worn my thickest winter coat. The son of Miriam Enook Lourenco knew enough to dress in layers. Shame he didn’t know enough to not run off the damn road. Fear spurred me on. The wind was brutally cold. The outside temperature, according to the dash of Rocky’s totaled SUV, had read zero degrees Fahrenheit, which was normal for this time of year. I took a few steps, my hood cinched around my head, and turned on the flashlight that was in the car, to give me about a foot of light before the snow cut the beam into nothingness. I swallowed. It was fine. I knew where I was. Christian had a cabin just a mile or so down Egret Lane. Head down, I pushed into the storm, the snow already to my knees.
Once I got into the woods, the wind did ease a bit, but not enough. Something cracked behind me. I spun around with a gasp, heart pounding in my breast, and waved the light back and forth.
“Who is it?” I shouted, but the gale force winds carried my words away. I stood there, locked in fear, snow battering my face like a sandblaster, squinting to see into the maelstrom.
Just a tree. It was just a tree breaking and falling. Nothing to worry about. It’s not the unseen. Just keep walking. You know this road. Round the bend. Up the knoll. The old Adjuk place. Mom told you all about it. Dad helped Christian put on a new roof when he bought it. You’re safe, just keep walking.
On Thin Ice
Chapter One
Jonah
I was kind of doomed.
Actually, I was totally doomed. Like Dr. Doom was dropping all the doom he possessed—which was a lot—onto my head, and while it sucked, it was kind of expected. Still, I hated sitting at the kitchen table being chewed out by my folks as my siblings snickered in the living room.
“… cannot believe that you’ve been bullying people, Jonah. I know your mother and I raised you better. Look at me, Jonah. I want to make sure you’re soaking in what I’m saying to you.”
I raised my eyes from the bracelets on my wrist. My father’s gaze met mine across the kitchen table, and what I saw in those dark brown eyes made me feel even shittier. He was not proud of me at all, neither was Mom, who was chewing on her lower lip, her light blue eyes worried and damp. I’d made her cry. Talk about feeling like something scraped out of my baby sister’s diaper.
“I know it was wrong,” I mumbled as I fingered the slim rubber bracelet with the bi colors on it. I’d slid it on just this afternoon, after seeing Tyler and his friends from the Gay Student Alliance working on decorations for the Halloween dance. A dance I was supposed to cover for the Chesterford Chronicle, the student paper, but that I wasn’t allowed to go to because the principal had called my parents in for a conference. Seemed someone had dropped an anonymous note into the suggestion box outside the administration office saying that Jonah Robinson and Miles Brooks were using racial and homophobic slurs against other students. That had been the start of a really, awful, super-sized, monstrously bad day. And by the looks on my parents’ faces, this terrible day was going to stretch into a craptastic week or month. Hell, maybe a year. I’d probably not see the outside world apart from school until I was sixteen.
I deserved it all though.
“Jonah, if you knew it was wrong why did you do it?” Mom asked, pushing a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear.
I wanted to explain that I’d overheard Mom and Dad talking about her job with Felix’s family’s company, about how losing her job would be a major hit to the family budget, how it worried them, how they wished they had something real they could hold onto.
I wanted to tell them the horrors of being bullied at my old school—that it didn’t matter what school I was at, I never fitted.
I wanted to explain that this was why I’d hung onto Felix, and by extension Miles, just to keep myself protected, to keep my mom’s job safe. Felix would go to bat for my mother if he and I were friends.
To try to fix everything wrong in my head.
All I could do was hang my head in shame.
“Peer pressure,” Dad snapped, pushing to his feet to get another cup of coffee. It was his third in the past hour. He’d given up smoking two years ago and had substituted coffee for the nicotine. Mom had been giving him decaf for the past six months, unbeknownst to him. “Why stay friends with Felix and Miles? You had to know that no good would come of it.”
I winced because it was all on me. I’d chosen to hang around them; it was me who’d put myself in that position.
Dad continued, this time with way more anger. “That damn Brooks family is a seething den of bigots. Remember the first time we went to the Chesterford Spring Carnival?”
“I remember,” Mom whispered, her jaw tightening.
“Greg Brooks walks up to me, big as you please, and asks me if I had permission to be on the school grounds.” Dad thunked his Carlisle Parks & Recreation mug on the counter next to the Keurig. “Does that man think that only White people are allowed to be on the Chesterford campus?” he asked the coffeemaker as he pawed in the big plastic container for the right pod. They were all the same, all green covers, but he dug around anyway, muttering to himself until he found the one that he wanted. The lone, red-covered pod amongst all the green. “Ha! Found one. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with the coffee, Emma.”
Mom gave me a wobbly smile as Dad went off about the Brooks clan. “I know that there aren’t many people of color on that campus, but to come right up to me and ask… why is this damn pot not making coffee?”
“Something probably plugged the needles. Let me fix it, just sit down, and talk to Jonah.” Mom gave my arm a pat, then rose to poke at the coffee pot needles with a paperclip. Dad sighed and flopped down across from me, then gave me one of those long, sad looks of his.
“I’m so disappointed in you, Jonah. I know it’s been hard to adjust to the new school. And I know we don’t have all the cash falling out of our—”
“Terrence, language,” Mom chided Dad. My younger siblings—three girls ranging from ten down to two—giggled out in the living room.
“Out of our pockets,” Dad hurried to amend while the opening strains of The Princess and the Frog flowed into the kitchen. “I know it’s been tough; I truly do. But you earned that scholarship in fine arts. You’re an amazing photographer. Someday, you’ll be out there snapping pictures for National Geographic or the New York Times.”
Yeah, that was the dream. If only I could fix the broken parts of me.
“I know it was wrong,” I said, again, and shame choked my words.
“Then why the hell did you do it? Why would you hang around people who are bigots? Make us understand, Jonah. Make me see why a biracial young man would pal around with two hateful people like Felix Sinclair and Miles Brooks.”
He sat back, arms folded over his wrinkled dress shirt. His tie was probably being worn by one of his daughters as a headband. Dad and Mom had been called into the principal’s office after lunch, pulling them away from his job as the director of Parks and Recreation for Carlisle Borough and her new job taking orders at the local fast food drive-thru window, which was what she has been doing since losing her job at Sinclair Industries’ main office. Both had been furious during that meeting. Furious, shocked, and ashamed.
“Felix has changed,” I blurted out. Dad rolled his eyes. Mom made a sound as she poked violently at some plastic bit from inside the coffeemaker. “He has, honestly.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Jonah. It’s easy to say you’ve changed,” Mom said, her jabbing of the plastic bit getting violent. Better the coffee basket than me. Mom was generally pretty chill, but when her only son acted like an asshole and she lost half a day’s pay, she got crabby.
“No, Felix really has changed. He’s dating Soren Rowe now, openly, and they seem really happy. Only, he kind of isn’t really talking to me and Miles anymore.” My sight went back to my wrist, the band of rubber in soft shades of pink, purple, and royal blue feeling right on my skin. I’d never actually thought of myself as bisexual, not really, until I started on the school paper at Chesterford and had an epiphany. As the lone photographer on the Chronicle staff, I covered… well, everything on campus, and lots of off-campus as well. Sports included. Which was cool because I liked sports a lot. I played tennis and basketball, not on a team, but with kids in the neighborhood or my dad. It wasn’t until I got to watch the Chesterford ice hockey team that I’d gotten into the sport. And then had the big bi wake-up call.
“That’s good to hear. Soren and his fathers are good people.” Mom finally got the coffeemaker flowing, the gurgles and hisses making Dad unclench. Soon they both had mugs in hand and were staring at me once more, waiting for me to say something brilliant. “I don’t think you should associate with Miles anymore,” Mom added, then took a sip of her coffee.
“Shouldn’t have been hanging around him to begin with,” Dad grumbled into his cup, sipping tentatively as Mom’s head bobbed. “We know you’re close to sixteen and feel the need to have your friends as you see fit, but—”
“No, no, I don’t want to hang out with Miles anymore. I was never friends with him, but after Felix went off with Soren, he expected me to… no… I won’t do it. He’s just wrong, and I won’t…” I couldn’t think of what else to say. There wasn’t any good in Miles, he wouldn’t have a redemption arc in my life story.
Mom glanced at Dad. “That’s good to hear. It’s easy to get sucked into toxic relationships when you’re new to a social group. But it’s been two years now, and you should be able to mix into a wide range of friendship groups. You’re smart, handsome, artistic, athletic, and funny.”
“Takes after his father,” Dad chimed in, his anger seeming to slowly be leaching away.
“That he does,” Mom said, leaning over to peck Dad on his neatly trimmed, bearded cheek. “I hope you can figure out where you fit in, honey.”
“Yeah, me too,” I murmured, plucking at the bracelet I’d thieved out of a box the GSA had stashed inside the front doors. They were planning on handing them out to students as they entered the dance. “So can I go to the dance on Friday?”
“You’re grounded.” Dad gave me a look over his coffee cup.
“But it’s for school,” I wheedled, then glanced at my mother, only she wasn’t backing down.
“Sorry, Jonah, but Mr. Wheeler will have to take the pictures for the dance. Being called into the principal’s office is not a minor offense, nor is bullying people. Now, go to your room and do your homework. Your father and I will decide on how long your punishment will be.”
I wanted to argue, but deep down I knew whatever they gave me would be justified. I’d been a fuck toad to some people who honestly didn’t deserve it. I got to my feet in silence and pushed in my chair, my eyes on the tips of my sneakers.
“And, son, we expect you to apologize to everyone you hurt,” Dad said, his words pulling my sight from my Converse. “I don’t care if Felix or Miles do it or not, your mother and I raised you to be kind to people, and if you hurt someone, you say you’re sorry. Isn’t that right, girls?”
“That’s right, Daddy!” Lana, Gemma, and Polly all yelled back in unison. Mom beamed, then frowned when the sound of shouting was followed by crying, then a feeble “Sorry” from Gemma. Mom pushed to her feet and exited the kitchen.
Dad gave me a firm look. “I mean it, Jonah. You make amends to the kids you hurt.”
“I will,” I whispered, rubbing my new bracelet.
I rushed my father, hugged him hard, then bolted out of the kitchen, through the living room to the stairs. Those I climbed two at a time, my vision blurry from unshed tears I did not want anyone to see. I burst through the door to my room, closed it, locked it, and then, stood in the center of my space as the tears ran down my cheeks. I dashed them away, unsure why I was even crying. The past couple of years had been hard.
So hard.
Being pulled from public school and dropped into a private school in my freshman year had been exciting. For about two days. Then, the differences between my middle-class family and most of the other families of the students at Chesterford had really started to show.
I could count on two hands the number of students at Chesterford who were BIPOC. There was one other Black guy on campus, Reggie Dunleavy, who played football and was the son of two plastic surgeons. A couple of Asian kids attended, and one Latina girl who was graduating this year, the daughter of Hector Manuel Rivera, the assistant mayor of Harrisburg and his wife, Elena, a corporate lawyer. Then there was me. Jonah Robinson, son of hard-working people with more love than ready cash, admitted to a scholarship program that opened the doors of private schools to the less fortunate. Of course, the wording on the application had been different, but that was the gist.
I toed off my shoes, fell across my bed, rolled to my back to stare at the poster of Johny Pitts, one of my idols. Johny was a biracial photographer and had made a name for himself in the UK doing a photo journey with poet Roger Robinson. They’d driven across the country asking What Is Black Britain? and the images and words from that trip were stunning. Someday, I hoped to be able to do something as meaningful as that for the world. Mom assured me I would, but it seemed so far away right now. I’d gotten off light at school, pulling three days detention for an admitted verbal battle Miles had gotten into while I’d hung back like a coward. I should have stood up for the kid Miles was calling a weak little sissy before giving the freshman a shoulder slam as he strolled away. I said nothing to Miles, but I did apologize to the kid before heading the opposite direction from Miles. I’d heard Miles shouting my name, but I had kept walking, and I planned to keep walking away from that kind of shit. Whether I found my crew or not. I just hoped I did find them soon. It was lonely being different…
I stared up at Johny as the sounds of my sister’s singing along to “Almost There” filtered up the stairs. When Dad’s voice joined the singalong, I had to tune out. Dad could not sing, like at all, but he sure thought he was the next coming of Snoop. Which he was not.
I found a playlist that I liked, pulling up something from one of my fave hip-hop/punk bands. While the family was jamming to Disney, I was listening to a trio of POC musicians singing about burning down the system, wondering if being biracial and bisexual was one too many bis for one dude to tote around.
I’d been drifting off when a soft knocking at my door pulled me from the hazy ether of in-between wakefulness and sleep.
“Jo-bah,” Polly whispered under the crack of my door. “Jo-bah, lemme in peas.”
There was nothing I could do, but let her in. There were times when my baby sisters got on my nerves, but overall, I loved them more than mostly anything on the planet. Aside from my parents, and our cat Linus. Oh, and my Kodak digital camera, purchased outright by me after working all summer at Betty Lo’s Creamery selling ice cream cones and milkshakes. Mom and Dad had been so proud of me for earning that money. Now, they thought I was a slug.
I am a slug. I’m lower than that. I’m just the same as the kids who’d picked on me at my old school.
I’m worse because I should have known better.
“Jo-bah, peas,” my baby sister called, and so, being a dopey, smitten big brother, I left my bed and unlocked the door for her.
She gazed up at me, a drawing in her chubby hand, big brown eyes set in her tan, round face, her hair a wild mass of light brown curls no comb or brush could ever tame. All the girls had tight curls, same as me, I just kept mine buzzed because who has the time? Besides, I got cool designs in the clipped sides like lightning bolts, half-moons, spiderwebs, and stars.
“Jo-bah sad?” she asked as she handed the drawing up to me. “You crying?”
“No, I’m not crying, but I am kind of sad,” I replied, examining the drawing. It was a brown circle with two black ovals that were maybe my eyes. Blue lines ran out of the black ovals, so possibly, those were tears? “Did you make this?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered, skirting around me to dash into my room, then climb onto my bed. She flopped to her back—Little Mermaid nightgown twisted around her middle, her chunky thighs and calves exposed—and grabbed her toes. “I see Johny.”
“Yeah, he’s still there.” I sat down beside her as she tried to stick her big toe into her nose. “Don’t do that,” I said, and she quit. For now. “Thanks for the drawing.”
“You well-comb. Why you sad?”
I fell back on the bed to lie beside her. She giggled and cuddled in close to my side. The girl was a major cuddle-bug. I’d lost count how many times she’d left her toddler bed to come into my room to sleep with me—at least twice a week, if not more. I didn’t mind. My bed was more than big enough for one teenager and one toddler.
“I did something bad,” I told her, figuring that was enough for her.
“Oh, Jo-bah, why did you do bad things?” she asked as she rooted under my arm. I lifted it, and she snuggled into my side.
“I don’t know. Why do you do bad things?” I asked, then glanced at her. She’d popped her thumb into her mouth, a sure sign she was tired. She shrugged. “Yeah, same here. But I won’t do those bad things anymore.”
Her tiny hand, the one with the free thumb, came up to pat my face. “Jo-bah good boy forever now,” she said—or I think that was what she said—around her thumb before her long lashes fell to rest on her pudgy cheeks. As she slept peacefully at my side, I pulled a notebook out of my backpack and opened it to a new page.
I had a list to make of the people I’d hurt.
And at the top of that list was Tyler Corrigan.
Yeah, I was doomed as doomed could be.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
RJ ScottWriting 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.
RJ Scott
Perfect Gifts
Valentine's Hearts
Snowed
On Thin Ice
Harrisburg Railers Series
Owatonna U Series
Arizona Raptors Series
Boston Rebels Series
Sparkle #1.5(LA Storm)
Railers Legacy Series
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