One Timer: An Nashville Assassins Novel Read online

  One Timer

  An Nashville Assassins Novel

  Toni Aleo

  Copyright © 2019 by Toni Aleo

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  All rights reserved.

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  One Timer is a work of fiction. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Editing by: Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  Proofing by: Jenny Rarden

  Cover Design: Lori Jackson Design

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Hey, how you doin’?

  She’s Gonna Be the Death of Me, Jakob!

  Nice Stick

  You Came Quick

  Oops, I Did Him Again…

  It’s Been a Week

  Jakey!

  In a Relationship

  We’re Doing This Together

  For Real? For Real.

  We Won’t Break Up, Will We?

  No, We’re Going to Live Happily Ever After

  Would He Be There for You?

  It’s Yours. You Just Gotta Take It.

  UP NEXT….POSEY!!!

  Dump & Chase

  Also by Toni Aleo

  Acknowledgments

  About Toni Aleo

  This book is for someone I consider to be very special—Janet.

  Janet was full of such beautiful life. She was a hopeless romantic and funny as all get-out.

  She was the first person to read Taking Shots, chapter by chapter. I wrote it in her basement when I wasn’t at work. She was one of my first supporters. I lost her on 9/15/2019, and my heart aches at the loss.

  Love you, Janet.

  Janet Leigh Moore

  2/1/83 – 9/15/2019

  Hey, how you doin’?

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  She’s Gonna Be the Death of Me, Jakob!

  Jakob

  I feel all children should just accept their parents are always right.

  We’ve been there. We made the bad decisions. We slept with people we shouldn’t have. We drank until we were drunker than a skunk. We jumped out of cars and fought with exes outside Taco Bell. We worked hard and then hardly worked, which resulted in ramen for a week. We were broke, we struggled, and then we realized that our parents were always right. I know this, I learned it the hard way, and I ignored all my parents’ wishes. They didn’t want me to chase my dreams of the National Hockey League. They wanted me to work for the family, and while I ignored them and it worked out great for me, I know that will not be the case for my baby.

  So, if she could just realize it before she ruins her life, that would be great.

  Instead, I sit in the middle of the living room as my daughter screams at my wife. Journey, my son, who is mighty smart, sits beside me with his headphones on as he kills zombies on the Xbox. I wish I could join, but my wife would probably cut me in half. But neither of the women in my family is listening to me.

  “Mom! You don’t understand! I love him. Like, with my whole soul! And he loves me the same!”

  Of course he does. Our daughter, Allison, is the perfect combination of her mother and me. She’s built like Harper, tall and slim. She’s got muscles from years of volleyball and my dark green eyes that, in the right light, sparkle from the flecks of gold. Her hair is a light brown that falls down her back like a mane. Harper always keeps her own hair shorter and her eyes are blue, but when they stand beside each other, they look like twins. Problem is, my daughter has her mother’s mouth, which is why it’s never quiet around here. They’ve been going at it since Allison was twelve, and sometimes, I wish she were more like me. Let the water roll off her back. But for some reason, she is always geared up to fight. Or maybe that’s Harper; she brings it out in our girl. For me, Harper brings all the good feelings out of me.

  Even after all these years, my wife still knocks me on my ass with her beauty. She keeps me on my toes, keeps me laughing, and she’s one hell of a mother. Journey is easy; he plays video games when he’s not on the ice. But when he’s on it, she’s in the stands screaming his name. She is the best at homework, which is fantastic since I struggle with the English written word. Even after living in the States most of my adult life, I still struggle. Harper doesn’t care. She does it all. There isn’t a game of Allison’s she’s missed. She has been team mom for the last five years. How she is team mom for the college team is beyond me, but I’m so proud. Allison needs her mom.

  They may fight, but they love each other more than anything. Which is why this fight is killing me. I want to blame the guy—Taco. Yes, this dumbass goes by the name of Taco, sometimes Doritos Locos Taco if he’s feeling spicy. Insert the eye roll. And truth be told, I hate him. I let my hatred for him slide most of the time because of how much Allison loves him. First-time adult love is rough. I remember mine; I married her. So, yeah. I get it. The guy has no choice but to notice my princess. She’s her mom made over, but he doesn’t get to take her away from everything and ruin her life.

  I know I sound dramatic, but Allison is on a full ride to Bellevue. Not just for volleyball but for academics too. She’s not only talented on the court, but she’s a damn genius! Again, taking from both of us. My athletics and her momma’s smarts. She took a year off after high school to play volleyball in Brazil. She already had the scholarship lined up, but she wanted to improve her skills even more before she started on their team.

  While I understand she’s gotta make decisions on her own, fall on her face and all that jazz, can’t she do that when she’s done with school? She’s worked so damn hard. Which is what Harper is trying to tell her.

  “Ally, I get it. Baby, I do. I promise I do. But you have a full ride, sweetheart. A full ride. You can’t give that up to run off to Texas. What the hell is in Texas? Will you go to school? Will you play? I mean, you’re the team’s setter. They need you!”

  “Princess, Mom is right. It’s not only yourself you’ll be hurting—it’ll be your team.”

  “But I love him!” she screams, and then the tears start. “He’s leaving for work, and he won’t do long-distance. I can’t lose him.”

  “Why?” I ask, and apparently, that is the wrong question.

  “Daddy! I love him,” she says, her eyes wide and flooded with tears. I hate when she cries. “He is my best friend, my other half.”

  Was I this dumb? I might have been. Harper tried to get rid of me over and over again, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “But Ally, darling, if it is the same for him, why can’t he do long-distance? No man should ask you to give it all up for him. Daddy never asked that of me.”

  I nod, though neither of them is looking at me. I have been prone to injuries my whole career—and each time, Harper was there. I wouldn’t let her miss work or anything with the kids for my sake. Somehow, she made it work. I think when I retired, Harper was sadder than me. She loved watching me play, watching me live my dreams. But what she didn’t realize was she is my dreams. She stood beside me on the ice with our children as we watched my jersey rise to the rafters. It hangs with my buddies’ up there—Shea Adler, Alex Welch, and Lucas Brooks. It’s pretty damn awesome, especially since I’m on the special teams coaching staff for the Nashville Assassins as their lead coach. Elli Adler may have had to let me retire, but she wouldn’t let me coach anywhere but for her. We won the Cup last season, and we want it again this year. Things are go