RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,2

he asked? Oh right, flying. “I travel all the time, it’s just been a rough . . . day.” Or year. Yeah, let’s go with day, though. Don’t want to sound too pathetic.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said smoothly with another wink before ordering a glass of Merlot that I knew by heart. I’d tasted the first barrel. My mouth watered.

It was a good choice.

Damn him.

Men who knew wine were my weakness.

Alton had always—

Stop. I needed to stop.

Alton was gone.

Gone.

I cleared my throat. “Good choice, that’s one of my favorites.”

“Other than champagne?” He grinned, showing straight, white teeth that almost blinded me against his smooth, tanned skin.

“Other than champagne,” I agreed, still a bit tongue-tied as the flight attendant brought his drink in a stemless glass. He swirled the wine around, examined the legs, sniffed.

My jaw almost came unhinged as I watched him test it.

I waited on pins and needles for approval, not even realizing how much I needed it until he sipped the wine.

God, was I that ridiculous?

Needing a stranger to tell me I had good taste in my own father’s wine?

I really did need a vacation.

“It’s good,” he finally said.

“Good,” I repeated. “Good?”

He smirked at me. “Emotionally invested in wine, then? Just had a desire for champagne instead?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about the aroma of cherries? I think if you take another sip you’ll also notice the robust—”

He placed a finger to my lips and whispered, “I said it was good, are you trying to change my opinion, then?”

My lips parted.

“Folks, looks like we’re first for takeoff. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin.”

I watched in shock as he didn’t finish his wine but handed it off to the flight attendant. Annoyed, I decided not to speak to him the rest of the flight.

Great, now I was punishing a stranger because of his taste in wine.

I was going to die alone.

Damn it, Alton.

If he’d been there he’d have held my hand, rubbed his thumb lightly over my skin, and then later told me something like the guy was beneath us. Which wasn’t true. He had a very low opinion of anyone who wasn’t in his circle, which had always bothered me. Now I was nervous that the one thing I’d despised about him was rubbing off on me.

My chest tightened.

That’s why I needed this vacation.

I needed to decide who I was.

Because at thirty years old, when I looked in the mirror I didn’t see just me, I saw the man who was supposed to be by my side, along with all the flaws that somehow pushed him away. My need to please, my need for my parents’ approval, pushing my girlfriends away because I had him, because they made me lose focus on the prize—running the family business. Thirty years old and I had no life to speak of and now no fiancé.

Chapter Two

SLADE

Vacation had been the only option after getting offered one of the highest salaries in US soccer. They needed a face to sell . . . and I wanted to get away from my old team.

Not to mention my old co-captain and former best friend.

I jerked my headphones over my ears and closed my eyes. I was so damn jetlagged I could sleep for years. The wine had tasted phenomenal, but I was too exhausted to finish it, and I wasn’t an animal.

One never chugged wine.

Or champagne for that matter.

The woman next to me started reading a gossip magazine. The faces staring at me from the cover belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend, and I cringed.

Thank God I was wearing my hair down around my ears so I wasn’t immediately recognizable.

The black beanie helped.

But there was nothing I could do about my golden eyes.

People typically saw what they wanted, though, and according to the world I was still hiding out in my flat licking my wounds.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

From Premier league to the United States.

From Chelsea.

To Seattle.

It was career suicide.

But I’d wanted to be as far away as possible.

And since my mom was American, it made sense.

At least to me.

My former teammates had something else to say about their number-one striker running away.

I snorted. Let their girls get knocked up by a teammate and get back to me.

Shit.

Music pounded in my ears, lulling me to sleep. A few days away before the chaos started, and I’d be good as new.

I licked my lips, still tasting the wine on them, and closed my eyes, letting sleep take me.

“WAKE UP!” a voice screeched next to