Julia Connors's Blog

As the youngest heir of the Hartmann fortune and the backup goalie for the Boston Rebels, the pro hockey team my family owns, I’ve spent my life being the peacemaker in my cutthroat family and the goalie that my teammates can depend on.

I have only one weakness: my coach’s daughter, Evangeline Wilcott.

Eva is a pairs figure skater, and my life-long best friend. I’ve always wanted more, but she friend zoned me back in high school and we’ve lived thousands of miles apart since.

Eight years later, a secret pregnancy is threatening her skating career. When she’s rushed to the hospital right before Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals, I panic. Now, my team’s loss lies solely on my shoulders and I could be traded.

When Eva needs help, suggesting we get married is the easiest split-second decision I’ve ever made. A grandchild could keep me in Boston playing for my family’s team, and I’d do anything to take care of Eva.

We agree to a marriage based on friendship, but once Eva and I are living together, all those artificial walls we’ve built start crumbling. Now, I’m making up for all the years I couldn’t call her mine.

But when her past reappears in our new life together, her happiness and my family’s reputation are both threatened. And maybe I’m not so different from my family after all, because I find there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my wife safe and happy.


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“You saved me the trouble of having to rip the jersey off you if you’d had anyone else’s name on your back.”



✨ TEASER EXCERPT ✨

There’s a short line at the bar, so I lean against the wall as I wait, hoping that I don’t fall asleep standing. One bad night of sleep should not make me this tired.

I close my eyes for a brief second, and then I feel someone move in close. When I open my eyes again, Jameson has one arm propped on the wall next to me, and he’s leaning into my space.

“Where in the world did you find that jersey?” he asks, his voice a low growl.

“Jules gave it to me today because I mentioned I didn’t have any Rebels gear.”

“That’s my jersey.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. It has your name across the back.”

“No, I mean, that’s my jersey”—his eyes flick through the windows to the arena where we can see the big blue “R” inside the Rebels symbol painted onto the ice—“that I wore, when I played.”

My breath hitches in a way that makes it feel like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the space. “She didn’t tell me that. I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to overstep.”

He leans a little closer, his lips nearly touching my ear. “You saved me the trouble of having to rip the jersey off you if you’d had anyone else’s name on your back.”

My eyes flick to his. They’re as dark as always, but I’d forgotten that up close like this they have flecks of amber around the pupil, like sparks of fire radiating out into his irises.

“Jameson . . .” My voice is practically a whisper, and I pause because I don’t know what I want to say.

“Next!” The loud, distinctly annoyed voice of the guy behind the bar cuts into the space between us and I jump away.

🏒 Second chance
🏒 Hockey romance
🏒 Single mom
🏒 Only one bed
🏒 He falls first
🏒 Slow burn
🏒 Right person, wrong time
🏒 Enemies to friends to lovers