A Game of COURAGE Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  A GAME OF COURAGE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Dear Reader

  BONUS EXCERPT

  From the Author

  Books by Lena Hart

  About the Author

  A Game of COURAGE

  Lena Hart

  Contents

  A GAME OF COURAGE

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Dear Reader

  BONUS EXCERPT

  From the Author

  Books by Lena Hart

  About the Author

  A GAME OF COURAGE

  Copyright © 2017

  Abridged version originally published in the Hot On Ice: A Hockey Romance anthology.

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-941885-42-0

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.

  A Game of COURAGE

  Newly appointed head coach Mason Courage is in for the fight of his life. What should have been the biggest night of his career turns into the worst moment in his life when his wife files for divorce—and the media has a field day.

  Tired of her husband’s neglect, Jules believes the best course of action for their strained marriage is to end things now before things get worst. But her former bad boy isn’t about to let anyone—or anything—break up his family.

  For his career, his children, his wife, Mason is prepared to fight for them all… But can he manage to win back her heart?

  To those living their happily-ever-after.

  Keep the flame burning…

  Prologue

  “Mommy, where’s Daddy?”

  Jules took the large serving spoon out of her messy four-year-old daughter’s hand and replaced it with a smaller one.

  “He’s sleeping, sweetie. Daddy got home really late last night.”

  Madison pouted and frowned down at her cereal. “But he promised he was going to make me pancakes for breakfast.”

  “Not today, baby. He needs his rest.”

  Madison released a grunt of displeasure, but spooned a big helping of the cereal into her mouth. Jules finished her banana and tossed the peel in the trash. She ran down the many appointments she had today and knew she was forgetting something. She needed to check her calendar if she had any hopes of getting her schedule straight.

  She searched around the countertop for her cell phone until she remembered it was still in the bedroom.

  “Madison, don’t forget we have to visit your new school today, so finish your breakfast then get out of those pajamas.”

  “Is Daddy coming too?”

  “No talking with your mouth full. And no, baby. Not today.”

  Jules headed to her bedroom and was surprised to find the bed empty, though the shower in the connecting bath was running. She should have known better. No matter how late her husband got in, he was never in bed after eight.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and quickly went through her calendar. As she suspected, she had back-to-back appointments, including a late afternoon board meeting with one of her charities. She scrolled down her calendar and saw the reminder highlighted in red at the bottom.

  Wedding anniversary next month!

  Jules smiled. This year they would be celebrating nine years of marriage. She wondered what she should get him. He’d been so distracted this year with his team and so focused on getting to the playoffs, she couldn’t think of anything he wanted for.

  Except winning the championship Cup, of course.

  Jules sent a little prayer and a couple of wishes that her husband and his team got exactly that. As for their anniversary, she would just have to think of someplace special to take him. Someplace far away from his work.

  An email notification sprang up on her screen and she quickly scanned it. It was from their son’s speech therapist. She was so engrossed in her reply email, she didn’t realize the shower had stopped for some time now.

  “Good morning, babe.”

  Jules glanced up to find Mason still damp from his shower, a thick white towel wrapped around his lean waist. His short, dark hair was tousled, adding to his rakish good looks. She admired the way his abs flexed as he strode over to where she sat on the bed. Even though he had traded his hockey stick for a clipboard three years ago, he still kept his body fit and firm. Leaning down, he planted a kiss on her lips.

  “Good morning,” she murmured against his mouth, breathing in his fresh aftershave.

  He started to straighten, but she latched on to his towel and held him to her. His deep blue eyes widened with surprise before he smiled crookedly at her.

  “You want this off?”

  “No, I want to know what you’re doing out of bed?”

  “I have to get back to the stadium. We have a long day of training ahead.”

  Jules frowned. “But you got home really late last night. You should be sleeping in.”

  He arched a brow. “When have I ever slept in?”

  “I know, but still… You need to stop and take a break.”

  “I will, babe. Once we win this thing. Until then, we can’t sleep on our competition. And I certainly can’t let up now.” He framed her face with his palms and came down until his lips hovered over hers. “But I could spare an hour or two in bed if you join me.”

  Before she could respond, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply. Jules braced her palms against his hard abs, savoring the feel of his athletic body and the way his lips moved over hers. He began to draw her down on the bed, and the moment her back touched the soft, cool sheets, she pushed against him.

  “Wait. The door isn’t locked.”

  He glanced behind him. Their bedroom door was left slightly ajar. “The kids are still home?”

  “Only Madison. Carrie brought Jeremy to school so I could take her to meet her summer prep teacher.”

  Mason turned back to her and lifted a brow. “There’s prep school for pre-school?”

  “At Saint Francis there is and that meeting is in an hour, so we’re going to have to pick this up later.”

  He blew out a heavy breath, gave her one last kiss then pushed himself up. “Pretty soon we’re going to have start scheduling our love making.”

  She followed him up. “We wouldn’t have to if you just made it home at night.”

  “Don’t start, Jules.” His tone was curt as he made his way to their walk-in closet. The sound of a drawer opening then snapping shut was indicative of his surly mood.

  Jules pursed her lips. She didn’t want to start an argument, but she wouldn’t let him make sly comments about their barely tepid love-life as if she or their kids were to blame.

  “You know I’m right, Mason. When was the last time we made love that wasn’t…lazy.”

  He poked his head of the closet, a
scowl marring his handsome face. “Lazy?”

  “You know what I mean. We used to have fun, be spontaneous. Now we’re like two ships passing each other with maybe a quickie tossed in right before you jet off to another game.”

  He ducked back into the closet. “It’s only temporary,” he called out. “Once the season’s over, I’ll take you someplace special and we’ll make love until we both can’t move.”

  She rolled her eyes at that. Then suddenly his words dawned on her. “When the season’s over? You don’t have anything planned for next month?”

  “No, why?”

  Jules narrowed her eyes then hopped off the bed. She went to the closet and leaned against the door frame, watching him as he jerked on his slacks.

  “Mason, please tell me you didn’t forget.”

  He stilled then glanced back at her. “I didn’t forget.”

  She studied him then scoffed in disgust. “Liar.”

  Turning on her heels, she started toward the bathroom.

  “Come back here, babe.” He came after her and looped his arms around her waist. “I said I didn’t forget. It’s our anniversary next month, isn’t it?”

  “Are you asking or telling me?”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck. Jules couldn’t stop the shiver that raked through her. He must have felt it too, because he drew her closer to him.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” he murmured in her ear. “Not for something that hasn’t even happened.”

  “I don’t want to spend our anniversary alone, Mason. I don’t care what game you have that week.”

  “You won’t, babe.”

  Jules let herself relax against him. She couldn’t stop the soft sigh that escaped her when he pressed another kiss against her neck.

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  1

  Three months later…

  “Mason, people usually smile during moments like this.”

  Mason Courage turned his gaze to the Cajun Rage’s general manager and cocked a brow.

  “Steven, that is him smiling,” Michael Babineaux said, sitting behind his large desk and chuckling at his own remark.

  Mason returned his gaze to the team’s owner, trying to process what the two men were telling him—or rather, what they had offered.

  Head coach of the Cajun Rage.

  It still seemed surreal.

  “I’m flattered by the offer, really. But what about Thibodeault? He still has a few seasons left in him.”

  Doesn’t he?

  Based on the shared look between the two men, Mason had his answer.

  “That heart attack hit him hard, and was more serious than we all anticipated,” Steven Garey said. “We wanted to wait until we made your promotion official, but it looks like Thibodeault will be heading toward early retirement.”

  Shit.

  The realization that the team’s current head coach wouldn’t return to his position filled him with a sense of loss he hadn’t expected. For all of Guy Thibodeault’s surliness, he was a great hockey coach, and had been an even better mentor these past three years. Mason was certain the team would feel the loss.

  “It’s been clear for some time now that Guy wasn’t up to leading a championship team,” Michael said. “It’s time we had the right guy for the job. And that guy’s you.”

  “What are you talking about? Coach Thibodeault is the one who got us here. Without him, we wouldn’t have won the Cup this season.”

  “Technically, without Zim’s save on the ice in game seven, we wouldn’t have won. Now, we’re New Orleans’ new local stars.”

  Mason frowned at him. He had nothing against Michael. He just didn’t care too much for the old-money type that chose to be hands-off only when it suited them. They had all sacrificed to get this win. Hell, there was a big chance that Thibodeault’s heart attack was largely due to the stress they had put themselves under.

  “Look, Mason, we’re not taking anything away from Thibodeault,” Steven said, pushing away from the desk he had been leaning against. “He’s been good for the team, but we’ve been watching you. We see how you manage the team. More importantly, we’ve noticed how they respond to you. It’s only right that you take on the head coach position permanently.”

  Mason stared at the men, not sure yet what to say. This was exactly what he had been looking forward to since he had joined the Cajun Rage as an assistant coach three years ago. Many assistant coaches looked forward to this moment. He had just never expected the moment to come so soon.

  “If you need more time to think about it—”

  “I don’t,” Mason said abruptly. Soon or not, he had no intention of turning the job down. “If Thibodeault is retiring, then I’d be honored to take over for him.”

  “Excellent,” Steven said. “This is turning out to be a big year for us, Mason. Don’t let us down.”

  Mason rose to his feet. “When have I ever?”

  He had come a long way from the hotheaded agitator he had once been as a player in the league. A wife and two young kids had a way of taming any bad boy—at least, they had for him.

  “We know this is the off-season and you might have plans with your family this summer,” Steven said, “but leave some room on your schedule to help vet a replacement assistant coach.”

  “Sure. Do you have anyone in mind?”

  “We’re looking at a few candidates, but haven’t arranged anything yet. Besides, we want to first announce these changes to the team before we make Thibodeault’s retirement public.”

  “Any idea when that will be?” Mason asked. Their players knew about his interim position as head coach, and many had no issue with it. But how would they take learning the position would now be permanent?

  “As we speak, Harlan is drafting a statement on Thibodeault’s behalf,” Steven said. “We have a press conference scheduled at the end of this week to make an official announcement. We’ll use that to also announce your promotion.”

  Lucky me.

  He hated talking to the press.

  “After the press conference, we expect planning for next season to begin sooner than later,” Michael added. “Winning the Cup was big for us, but it was just the beginning. We have a bigger season ahead of us.”

  Mason inclined his head and left the office. If Michael Babineaux knew him at all, he wouldn’t have wasted his time with that comment. Mason was already thinking about the scouting reports and training videos he planned to review for next season.

  He made it to his office, but before he could settle himself behind his desk, his personal assistant Doug Cullen rushed inside. He had the forethought to shut the door behind him, but it was the pallor on his narrow face that made the muscles on Mason’s shoulders bunch.

  “What is it, Doug?”

  “You haven’t seen it, have you?”

  “Seen what? Don’t tell me there’s another video of Archer out there.”

  Mason gritted his teeth and braced himself. For all their talent and heart, some of the players couldn’t seem to keep themselves out of the media.

  “Um…it’s a little more serious than that,” Doug said, shifting on his feet. The lack of color on his face made his red hair that more pronounced.

  “Spit it out, Doug,” Mason snapped. “I’m not a mind reader.”

  “Well…uh…I should probably just show you.”

  Doug pulled out his cell phone and fiddled with it before handing it to him. Mason took the phone, his brow pulling into a deeper frown. For a second, it took him a moment to recognize the photo of him and his wife on their wedding day. It was the only photo of their very private wedding that had been released to the media eight years ago, in order to satisfy the vultures and put an end to the harassment.

  But it wasn’t the fact that the photo had resurfaced these many years later that bothered him. It was the alteration to it that brought his blood to a slow boil. The image included an altered rip in the center, effectively tearing the photo o
f them in two.

  The headline read: BREAKING—America’s Beauty Queen calls it quits after ten years with Hockey’s Former Bad Boy.

  Mason’s heart began to beat in a rapid tempo as he continued to read the brief article.

  Former beauty queen Juliette Bennett has petitioned for a divorce from New Orleans’ Cajun Rage coach Mason Courage. The appeal comes after the Rajun’s shocking championship win against the New York Spartans.

  Mason reread the article, wanting to believe this was just internet gossip—a prank, even—but the news source was credible. Not to mention the extreme care he and Jules took to stay out of the media. No reputable news source would bother reporting something that didn’t have some semblance of truth behind it.

  And in the pit of his twisting gut, Mason knew it was true. He and Jules had been having problems for some weeks now, but he never believed it had gotten this bad.

  “When was this posted?” Mason asked, his eyes still glued to the small screen.

  “A few minutes ago,” Doug said. “My roommate texted it to me. It’s not trending yet, but…um…you might want to stay off social media.”

  Mason glared at him. “Why?”

  Doug shifted again, then swallowed hard. Just then, an alert sounded on the cell phone in his hand, and Mason glanced down at the text message that filled the screen.

  You see this???

  Attached to the message was a picture of his wife with a dark-haired man at a restaurant. She was dressed beautifully, and her straight dark hair was pulled over to one side of her bare shoulders. She was smiling at the man sitting across from her at the table, her full lips frozen in a sexy grin. It was obvious she didn’t know the picture was being taken. If she had, he wondered if she would have smiled at that man that way.

  Mason tried not to let his thoughts jump to conclusions, but it was damn near impossible not to. “Who the hell is Tank?” Mason asked, turning the phone to Doug’s direction. “And where the hell did he get this picture?”