Showing titles in Sports

He's a gifted hockey player who can't get his act together. The moment I heard about Levi Ziegler, I had a bad feeling in my gut. As a seasoned sports agent, I just knew he was going to be trouble. But despite my reservations, as a favor to the GM of the Vancouver Wolves, I agreed to sign this young, wild player as a client. One reckless night, one terrible mistake, and suddenly my entire world and everything I have worked for is on thin ice. Thanks to my rookie.

I’m not looking for a man, let alone a baseball player. Definitely not a minor leaguer who doesn’t even know how to pick a steamed crab. This is North Bay. Baseball and crabbing are a way of life. This town is in my blood, it’s where I belong. Mike Miller showed up with his big dreams of signing with a better team, and he already has one foot out the door. I don’t want a man who won’t stay. I’ve had enough of those. So, why can’t I get him out of my head?

Look, I've had it bad for the girl with all the curves next door forever. She turned me down in high school and since I'm not a total douchecanoe, I lusted after her all by myself in my shower, and we stayed just friends for years. Now she's the adorkable librarian next door, and I'm the star quarterback of the best pro football team in the league. So when she asks me to be her fake date to her all-girls school reunion, I am totally down to show her off to the mean girls who bullied her back then so they can see just how incredible she is.

Eliza McDavid is done with dating. Every man she meets does nothing for her. After years of abuse, she knows she wants safety—but most of all, she wants love. Each of her sisters has her own passion, and Eliza thinks she's found hers when she decides to open her own coffee bar. But she doesn't have a clue how to run one. She knows someone who does, however, but he won't give her the time of day. Until he does.

The best way to get back at my horrible ex? Fake date Rory Miller--my ex's rival, the top scorer in pro hockey, and the arrogant, flirtatious hockey player I tutored in high school. Faking it is fun and addictive, though, and beneath the bad boy swagger, Rory’s sweet, funny, and protective. He teaches me to skate and spends way too much money on me. He sleeps in my bed and convinces me to break my just-one-time hookup rule. He kisses me like it’s real.

Miller "Buck" Butterson has been banging his way through life ever since a puck to the face fixed his messed-up front teeth. After five years in the NHL, deflecting goals on the ice and scoring them with puck bunnies, Miller has decided he's ready for a girlfriend. A real, nonbunny girlfriend to take on dates and not jump into bed with after five seconds of conversation. Miller thinks he's found that woman in his teammate's sister.

Dmitri Sokolov doesn't lose control. Until his daughter’s nanny quits days before playoffs—and Erin O’Connor steps in to help. The Captain's baby sister. Too young. Too tempting. Too damn off-limits. But now she's in his home—close, distracting, and turning his world upside down.

One night, no names, and no kissing seemed like a good idea —until I got a big, fat plus sign on a pregnancy test, and I had no idea who my baby daddy was. I'm determined to raise my baby on my own, but then he waltzes into my classroom to drop off his son. Blake Walker. The newly retired linebacker and single dad is even more gorgeous now than the night we spent together, and since he knows I'm pregnant with his baby, he's adamant to do right by us.

I'm more than aware of the responsibilities that come with being a quarterback in the NFL. The upside—I get to do what I love every day, which is play football. And I make more money than I know what to do with. The downside—everyone wants a piece of me, and the press stalks me ruthlessly.

After fifteen years of tending goal for the Boston Rebels, I’m known for two things: the highest save percentage in the league, and never spending more than one night with the same woman. I’m definitely not the guy you should trust with your best friend’s little sister. Especially not when that sister, Jules, is eight years younger and my new roommate. When I witness her on the verge of a panic attack while being intimidated by another man, I don’t think twice about calling her my fiancée and kissing her. Which brings me to the third thing I’m known for: reckless and impulsive decision-making.

Emerson just made her dream come true as a professional cheerleader for her favorite pro football team. But even though the plus-size athlete is breaking down boundaries, she still has to contend with the massive rulebook. Carbs? Nope. Chocolate? Definitely not. Still, Emerson loves her curves, and she'll rock the hell out of this job even if it kills her. Except for one mandate that is easier read than done... No fraternizing with the players.

My name is Hudson Newgate, but my teammates call me "New Guy". That was my nickname in Chicago, too. And Vancouver. That’s what happens when you keep getting traded. Brooklyn is my last chance, especially after my poor performance last season.

As an NHL player, relationships haven't been my thing. Shrouded in secrecy and speculation, they never last very long. But then that's what happens when you require an NDA before the first date. Until Charlene. She's like a firefly. She's elusive, and if you catch her she'll burn bright, but keeping her trapped dulls her fire and dims her beauty. I caught her. And as much as I might want to keep her, I'll never put the lid on her jar. Not at the risk of losing her. So I've let her set the rules in our relationship.

A sexy, small town, grumpy sunshine, single dad, sports romance from USA Today Bestselling Author Willow Aster. I fell in love with his little girl first. From the moment nine-year-old Becca Fox and I hugged, it was like we’d known each other forever. Precocious, sweet, and kind, I just knew this little girl was exceptional. Her dad, though? Not so much. Bowie Fox checks every box in the looks department—rugged, intense, and the kind of man who makes you forget how to breathe—but his personality? About as warm as a snowstorm.

Some men are just off-limits. Like, say, all the other football players in the league…. I have to stop replaying the one night I spent with my rival. Trouble is, that white-hot encounter with the other quarterback answered a lot of questions I’ve had about myself, but it also led me into this mess where he hates me…

It turns out making out with my best friend in high school could be considered gay. Who knew? Apparently, everyone but me. Now that it's been pointed out, I can't help reliving it in my head. Repeatedly. Good-bye Denial Town, hello Confusionville. When my path leads me down the gay dating app route, I don't expect to meet anyone I like, but then I meet him. He can't be more opposite than me. He's smart, he hates hockey, and he identifies as demi - something I've never heard of. Yet I can't deny something's there.

I walked away from Quinn three years ago. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I had my reasons, and I thought it was best to let him go. I am too much. But even knowing that, I still crave him. I still miss him. I need him. I love him. But while I've been building an empire he's supposed to be a part of—and pining after him—he's off getting engaged. To someone who isn't me. He thinks I'm going to allow him to marry someone else? Not a chance.

I've been in love with my best friend for years. The problem? He thinks I'm straight. Now that I share a dorm with him, his insistent need to cuddle—and lack of clothes—are blurring the careful lines I've drawn. I'm struggling to keep my defenses up. I love him, but I'm afraid. Afraid I'm not enough to make him stay. Afraid he'll rip my heart out. Afraid he won't love me back. But I see a side of him no one else does. In the security of our room, he lets his mask fall, lets me hold him.

When your grandmother stalks the star hockey player on the rival team because “You need a husband, Dakota—you’re not getting any younger!” it’s Christmas crazy on ice.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.