The Mistletoe Trap (Heart in the Game) Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more Amara titles… Write Before Christmas

  Snowed in with the Firefighter

  The Trouble with Christmas

  Tangled up in Christmas

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Cindi Madsen. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  10940 S Parker Rd

  Suite 327

  Parker, CO 80134

  [email protected]

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Stacy Abrams

  Cover design by Bree Archer

  Cover photography by VikaValter, byryo, 4x6, CreativaStudio, Aldo Murillo, and lisafx/GettyImages

  ISBN 978-1-64063-920-1

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition November 2020

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  To everyone out there fighting for kindness, hope, and love.

  Here’s wishing us all a brighter future with a very happy ending.

  Chapter One

  “I need help, and I’m not even sure why I called you, but really it’s your fault for continuing to be friends with me even though you’re a big football star now.”

  With his best friend Julie’s voice filling his ear, Gavin grinned and sat on the bench in the locker room, flinching when he plopped down harder than he’d meant to. If he kept on doing that, he’d need the trainer to work out the muscles in his back as hard as he’d just worked his shoulder. Gavin rolled it, wanting to keep it loose, and switched the phone to his other ear. “I’m not sure whether to say I’m sorry for still liking you, or that I’m currently busy being a big star, so I’ll have my people call your people once they manage to actually find a spot in my hectic schedule.”

  An offended ah! noise carried over the line. “That so won’t work for me. Mostly because I don’t have people. I have you and Kylo Ren, and he’s in a mood today.”

  “Hmm. Can’t believe your cat wasn’t more helpful.” Pure sarcasm there, because he’d met her temperamental black kitty with the tuft of white fur on his chest. According to her, that was the light side of the Force still inside him, trying to fight off the dark side. Not only was Julie his oldest friend, she was also a bit bonkers in the funniest of ways, which was why he always felt happier after talking to her.

  “Hey guys,” DeAndre Smitts, one of the enormous defensive tackles said as he strolled down the aisle of the San Antonio Mustangs’ locker room. He had the tiniest towel in history around his waist, the bleached terry cloth contrasting his dark-brown skin and drawing far too much attention to his massive thighs. Whistles erupted, and Smitts added a hip sashay. “Tell me the truth. Does this towel make my dick look too big?”

  As he continued strutting his stuff, several of their teammates claimed it wouldn’t be big enough to cover theirs. Gavin usually joined in on the razzing, but the pain screeching through his shoulder had dulled his sense of humor. “So, what can I help you with?” he asked Julie.

  “I can’t decide which swimsuit to bring home with me for Christmas.” Not something commonly asked in the locker room, although with the group of guys he played with, he’d heard plenty of odd questions—similar to the one Smitts just asked.

  “Are you gonna give me details, or do I just take a wild stab in the dark and say the red one?”

  “But I don’t have a red suit. Which one are you talking about? I don’t think I’ve ever had a red one.”

  Sometimes jokes flew right over her head. Particularly when she was preoccupied with something else—in her case, packing with what he was sure was a long, bullet-pointed to-do list. “I’m saying I need more details, or to see them before I can weigh in.”

  “I’m not sending pictures of my swimsuits,” Julie said. “I know you’re not asking, but I’m putting it out there anyway. I feel self-conscious enough just holding them up in the privacy of my own bedroom.”

  No, he wasn’t asking for pictures, not from the girl who’d been his friend since forever. But he’d never asked for pictures of her cat, and he got plenty of those. Same went for the mostly disturbing pictures from her pathology job. Some things—like engorged kidneys—should never be seen outside of the body. Not that he wanted to see them in the body, either, something he absolutely had to specify when it came to her “look how cool” picture-bomb texts.

  Gavin peeled off the sweatband that kept his dark curls off his forehead and leaned against the cool metal lockers, nodding at a couple of his teammates as they passed.

  Jason Holt hung back, his desire to be in the center of everything the reason they occasionally referred to him as Gossip Girl. “Talking to your girl? The cute blue-eyed blonde with the dimples?”

  Gavin twisted the speaker end of the phone away from his mouth. “You know she and I are just friends.”

  Between the visit she’d made shortly after he’d relocated to San Antonio eight months ago, the squeezed-in phone calls, and the fact that so many of his childhood stories involved Julie, a lot of his teammates knew her. Thanks to her eternally sunny demeanor, they always wanted to say hi, and became even more enthusiastic about talking to her during video chats.

  “Then why do you insist on cockblocking me?”

  “Sorry, Jules, hold on a sec.” Gavin tapped the mute button. “Because you’d end up being an asshole and hurting her, then I’d have to kick your ass, and that’d be bad for team morale. I’m not letting you anywhere near her, so forget it.”

  Jason’s type was anything female, but he had a weakness for blondes. His interest in Julie and if she and Gavin were really just friends had spiked when the guys were over and she’d video messaged with another “emergency situation.” She’d been about to go out with her tool boyfriend and required feedback on her outfit, hair, and makeup—come to think of it, at some point he should probably clarify fashion wasn’t his strong suit. Dating advice, either, for that matter.

  But she’d insisted she needed a guy’s opinion. Then she asked him to be brutally honest about whether or not she could pull off the glittery dress she had on.

  Before Gavin could tell her that she looked nice—or that he had company—Jason jammed his face into the camera and replied, “Hell, sweetheart, I’ll take you wherever you want, especially while you’re wearing that sexy number. Ditch the boyfriend and come out with me instead.”

  In order to escape the peanut gallery, Gavin had closed himself off in his bedroom. The makeup, jewelry, and scoop-neck dress had transformed her from the girl who often donned a lab coat and goggles at work and then spent her nights curled up on her couch with her cat into a much fancier version of herself. A protective surge had seized him, partially because he’d disliked her boyfriend and didn’t have faith the guy could properly protect her if a situation required it. But he’d shoved that away, assured her she looked great, and told her to have a good time at the opera.

  Not his scene—or hers, as far as he knew—but she’d been trying “something new.”

  The next morning, she’d called crying. Even though she’d thought the date had gone well, she’d been unceremoniously dumped.

  The edge of the phone dug into Gavin’s palm as he recalled how helpless he’d felt, and how much he’d wanted to go have a talk with the asshole. A lucky asshole at that, because if he hadn’t been a couple of states away… He clenched and released his fist. He still wanted to have a “discussion” with the guy, but that had happened four months ago, and Jules claimed she was over it.

  “Gavin? Are you still there
?”

  He quickly unmuted the call and lifted his phone to his ear again. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  Jason leaned in, nearly headbutting him. “Hi, Julie!”

  “He’s talking to Julie?” A few more of the guys crowded in to say hello, and Gavin put her on speaker so she could hear their enthusiastic greetings and respond, doing his best not to be jealous over his teammates taking up a portion of their limited time.

  At least I’ll see her soon. Then maybe it won’t feel like we never get to fully catch up.

  “Why don’t you fly her out for a game already, Frost?” Tyrone Marshall asked. “I still haven’t met her in person.”

  “He’s trying to keep her to himself,” Jason said, and then he lifted his hand to the side of his mouth and stage-whispered, “Even though he claims they’re just friends.”

  “We are just friends,” Julie said, and Jason grimaced at the phone.

  “Forgot you were still on speaker, babe. Did you need advice on another outfit? You know you can call me for tips anytime. My number’s seven-two-six—”

  “That’s it. I’m taking her off speaker phone.” Gavin gave a halfhearted kick toward the crowd. “Now, piss off.”

  “Wait,” Julie said. “I do need to tell Jason something.”

  A giant grin spread across Jason’s face as he moved closer.

  “While we’re talking tips, you’ve really gotta stop celebrating before you cross the goal line. You’re gonna get the ball stripped at the one-yard line during a big game, and I don’t like talking to Gavin when he’s all crabby from losing.”

  The guys laughed and jostled Jason. The wide receiver was a huge showboat, but half of it was playing to the crowd, who ate it up. Not that Coach Bryant hadn’t given him the same lecture about premature celebrations.

  “Till next time, Jason.” Julie hollered out goodbyes to the rest of the guys. “Now you can take me off speaker, Gavin.”

  At the tap of the button, her voice switched back to simply being in his ear.

  “For someone who’s not your girl, she’s certainly got you whipped. Do this”—Jason made a whipping motion, along with the cracking noise—“do that.”

  Gavin flipped him off before turning away so he could focus on Julie. Lately it’d been hard to touch base, and he really ought to stop taking calls in the locker room or gym where there were way too many interruptions. Easier said than done, considering he practically lived at the training facility. Not that he was complaining. After three years of playing backup to one of the best QBs in the NFL, new owner Lance Quaid had taken a chance on him, and he wasn’t going to blow it.

  Which was why his shoulder needed to chill.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bossy,” Julie said, and the hint of remorse dug at him. She’d seemed down for weeks, and he resolved to find a way to cheer her up once they were in the same zip code again. Unfortunately, it’d be for only an extended weekend, but at this point, he’d take whatever he could get.

  “No worries. I don’t give a shit about what Holt thinks anyway. In fact, it’s fun watching his shocked expressions when his come-ons roll right off you. He has such a hard time believing you’re not affected by his charm.”

  “It’s not like he was actually coming on to me. He just likes trying to fluster me, and at least this time I was ready for it.”

  Not even close to true, but Gavin meant what he’d said about not letting Jason anywhere near Julie. She’d already dated enough players, and somehow she still saw the best in people, to the point that she occasionally ignored warning signs and ended up hurt.

  That wasn’t happening on his watch ever again.

  “Anyway, circling back to my swimsuit dilemma…”

  “What did you put on your packing list?”

  “How did you know I—?” He heard the crumple of paper on the other side of the line. “Fine, I have a list, but it literally says, ‘Decide which swimsuit to take.’ I’d like to look sexy while soaking in the hot springs—as sexy as is possible for me, anyway—but our families and everyone we went to high school with will undoubtedly be around as well…”

  His stomach clenched, and somehow the bottom still fell right out of it. He’d been so psyched for his long holiday weekend with Julie and his family that he’d managed to suppress the possibility of a run-in with his ex-girlfriend. Gavin hadn’t seen Kristin since the devastating breakup the tabloids speculated about and reporters sporadically brought up if he slipped and let his guard down. Didn’t matter that it ended during his second season with the Pythons—right around the playoffs, at that.

  Guess that was what happened when you proclaimed how strong and unbreakable your relationship with your high school and college sweetheart was shortly after you were drafted. It made the haters all the more ravenous when it crumbled apart.

  “…so maybe that means I should go for a sturdy, full-coverage suit,” Julie continued, and he shoved away his past drama to concentrate on her words. “Plus, your family’s forever insisting on playing a pickup game.”

  “And you’re more of a belly-flop girl.”

  “Hey!” She paused, and he could picture her gnawing on her lower lip. “But you’re right. Sturdy it is. It’s not like I can flirt with our families around anyway. Which reminds me… Has your mom started dropping hints again about how you and I should totally be a couple?”

  “You’ve met Darlene Frost, right? She doesn’t drop hints. She smashes you over the head with them.” He pitched his voice as high as it would go to imitate his mom. “Julie’s single again, you know. She’s such a beautiful, sweet girl, and so smart, too. It’s amazing how well she fits right in with our family. In case you haven’t realized it yet, it’s also the first time in years you’ve both been unattached at the same time…”

  “Let me guess, you evaded and brought up the success I’ve had in my career.”

  He laughed, because he’d tried that very method. “I went on and on about how you’d landed a big promotion and added how proud I am of my good buddy.” Her intelligence had never been in question, and neither were any of the other positive attributes Mom rattled off whenever Julie’s name came up. But they’d never had the sort of spark that led to more.

  He supposed if he looked at Julie objectively, taking into account the blond waves, bright blue eyes, and those dimples Jason had referred to, she was beautiful.

  But he couldn’t look at her objectively.

  She was Julie, daughter of his parents’ best friends. They’d been pals since birth. While it’d been a bit forced during the toddler stage and they often fought like siblings, they’d grown even closer as they struggled through the awkward junior high phase. By the time high school rolled around, their names were synonymous with each other—which had caused plenty of friction when it came to other women. Although having known both of them for most of their lives, his last ex-girlfriend, Kristin, had been more understanding than most.

  When his parents weren’t stirring the pot.

  Separating for college only magnified how nice it was to have a friend who knew you backward and forward, didn’t put up with your crap, and gave a mixture of encouragement and tough love.

  The best thing was, Julie felt the same way about him. People often asked if they were more than friends, and they’d both always replied with a resounding no. That was what made things so easy and uncomplicated between them. They could kick back and just be—the last thing he’d ever do was mess that up.

  He’d already done that to his other most-important hometown relationship, and the loss of it… Never again.

  “On my end, my parents keep reciting your impressive football stats,” Julie said, “as if I’m not watching your games myself every weekend.”

  Warmth flooded his chest. It was good to know she was cheering for him from the sidelines, even if the sidelines were farther away than he’d prefer.

  “My mom says stuff like, ‘Look at the way he and the Mustangs are pulling together and climbing the ranks! If you don’t act soon, you’re gonna lose him to some trophy wife type.’ Which is insulting on two levels—one, it’s not very feminist-forward thinking, and two, she’s implying that I’m not trophy wife material.”

  “Well, I’ve seen your impressive collection of science trophies, so I have no doubt that one day you’ll make some man a very opinionated trophy wife. Who runs several labs and doesn’t take shit from anyone.”