Audrey’s brow furrowed as she accepted the note from him, trying to remember if there was another one she’d forgotten, because she’d pretty much memorized every single one they’d written to each other.
But when she took in the four words, her eyes filled, and Audrey knew why she hadn’t seen this note before. She didn’t bother asking how he would know to write I love you too.
But he’d known, just as she’d known that he’d sealed her fate with the first look. The first kiss. The first smirk. The only thing that surprised Audrey was how long it had taken her to realize it.
With a smile and another kiss, she handed the note back to Cameron.
He let the thing flutter to the bed as he took her in his arms and showed her what he’d already told her.
About the Author
Erin Kern lives in north Texas with her husband, two kids, and their dog. She loves barbecue, Texas sunsets, antiquing, and high school football games. The first book in the Champion Valley series, Winner Takes All, was published in August 2016, and was inspired by Erin’s love of Texas football, small towns, and happy endings.
When she’s not at the computer working on her next tale, she can be found spending time with her kids or curled up with a good book.
You can learn more at:
ErinKern.com
Twitter @erinkern04
Facebook.com/ErinKernAuthor
Also by Erin Kern
Champion Valley Series
Winner Takes All
Back in the Game
Trouble Series
Looking for Trouble
Here Comes Trouble
Along Came Trouble
Love Always
Wins in
Champion
Valley!
Coach Blake Carpenter and physical therapist Anabelle Turner need to keep things professional for the good of the
team. But when the score is this close—
and the passion this fierce—it’s
anybody’s game…
Keep reading for an excerpt of
Winner Takes All.
Available now!
ONE
Half these kids don’t know a blitz from a fumble.”
Blake Carpenter had to admit his assistant coach wasn’t wrong. Most of these kids couldn’t pass for shit. The kicker couldn’t find the goalposts if they had flashing lights on them. And these boys couldn’t take the Colorado heat without bitching like a bunch of little girls. Damn, Blake hated it when his best friend was right.
How had his life come to this?
A year ago he’d been playing pro football, something he’d dreamed of since he was a little kid. Making more money than he knew what to do with and enjoying every advantage and privilege a multimillion-dollar contract could throw his way.
Yeah, life had been good.
Great, actually.
Until it had all come crashing down after multiple knee surgeries and an early retirement due to a positive drug test. Testing positive once had been bad enough. But after his coach had warned him that his second test would most likely be positive, Blake had taken matters into his own hands and retired. He’d warned his trainers to not give him that “medication” they kept injecting because of his torn ACL. He should have known better.
It had cost him everything he’d worked for. His contract. His career.
His passion.
And no football organization in their right mind would hire someone who had a history of using performance-enhancing drugs, not even for a front office job. So he’d left football and returned to Colorado, where he'd grown up, fully intending to live out the rest of his life in peace. That had lasted about a year before he’d been bored out of his mind, since there was only so much solitude and hiking a person could do before that got old real fast.
It was only after watching the high school football team die a slow death of humiliation and defeat, ending their eighteenth losing season, that Blake ended his pity party.
Now here he was, a week into his new job of coaching a high school football team that hadn’t seen a winning season since the Clinton administration.
Needless to say, it had been a pride-swallowing moment.
He had no one to blame but himself for his fall from being a football god to a thirty-four-year-old high school coach who’d received more wary looks from parents than a stripper at confession.
Apparently some moms and dads didn’t want the likes of him coaching the children they felt could be the next Aaron Rodgers or Peyton Manning.
Whatever.
Blake didn’t have the heart to tell them the only way these kids could be Aaron Rodgers was if they stole the guy’s identity.
In other words, not gonna happen.
In other words, he had his work cut out for him.
And you’ve only got one season to make it happen, pal.
That was another little tidbit that chapped Blake’s ass. If he couldn’t pull off a winning season, then he’d be shown the door faster than he could call his next play.
The school district’s athletic director had made that point very clear when he’d hired Blake. Bring the team to the playoffs this season or find another job.
Sure.
Piece of cake.
“What the hell is number twenty-four doing?” Cameron muttered. Cam’s blue eyes were hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses, despite the overcast day. But Blake could feel his best friend’s gaze, analyzing and scrutinizing each move the kid on the field made.
Cameron Shaw was a play-calling genius who could turn a ballerina into the next Heisman winner. He and Blake had played ball in high school together, then in college, and Cam had been coaching high school ever since. Blake had agreed to do the job only if he could have Cam by his side.
“Strickland!” Cameron bellowed to number twenty-four, whom he’d had a close eye on since practice started. Cam crooked his finger for the kid to approach.
Brian Strickland, a junior with the heart of a lion but the talent of a ten-year-old, whipped his helmet off and ran toward them.
“Yeah, Coach?” Brian asked with a noticeable tremor to his voice.
“You decide to take a nap out there, or what?” Cameron barked.
Brian’s gaze flickered to Blake’s, then back to Cameron at the same time that his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a buoy in a
