Catching Her Heart Read online

  Catching Her Heart

  Copyright © 2018 by Marquita Valentine

  Previously published as All the Right Moves Copyright ©2014

  Take a Chance on Me

  Copyright © 2018 by Marquita Valentine

  Copyright © 2015 Dare Me Once

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design: Shanoff Designs

  Editing: Cynthia Shepp Editing

  www.marquitavalentine.com

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Catching Her Heart (Scored, #3)

  Prologue | Ashley

  Chapter 1 | Ryan

  Chapter 2 | Ashley

  Chapter 3 | Ryan

  Chapter 4 | Ashley

  Chapter 6 | Ashley

  Chapter 7 | Ryan

  Chapter 8 | Ashley

  Chapter 9 | Ryan

  Chapter 10 | Ashley

  Chapter 11 | Ryan

  Chapter 12 | Ashley

  Chapter 13 | Ryan

  Chapter 14 | Ashley

  Chapter 15 | Ryan

  Chapter 16 | Ashley

  Chapter 17 | Ryan

  Chapter 18 | Ashley

  Chapter 19 | Ashley

  Chapter 20 | Ryan

  Chapter 21 | Ashley

  Chapter 22 | Ryan

  Chapter 23 | Ashley

  Epilogue | Ryan

  BONUS READ: TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Also by Marquita Valentine

  About the Author

  Ryan Turner has all the right moves on and off the field, but Ashley Mitchell refuses to be played...

  After being dumped on my wedding day by my football playing ex, I've sworn off dating athletes. There's no way I'll come in second to a pigskin ever again.

  Until I meet meets Ryan Turner, the sexy wide receiver of the Raleigh Renegade, during puppy-parenting class.

  When he makes an offer I can't refuse, I find myself charmed by the real man beneath the uniform.

  But I know the score when it comes to smooth-talking athletes and there's no way I'll get sidelined this time...

  Prologue

  Ashley

  My foot taps anxiously as I wait for my dad to join me in the bridal room. I’m alone, my bridesmaids lined up with the groomsmen at the door to the sanctuary, and my momma sitting on the front pew with my grandmother.

  The door opens and I smile, stepping closer to take my daddy’s arm. Only the person walking inside is my freaking groom.

  “Cover your eyes,” I all but shout at him, frantically searching for the robe I wore earlier to cover up with. “It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.”

  “I think you’ll survive,” Dean says, in a voice so flat that I stop looking for the robe and stare at him. “We need to talk, Ash.”

  I shake my head, my heart sinking and my stomach roiling. “Nope. We do not need to talk.” I paste on a bright smile and playfully push Dean toward the door. “Go on. Shoo. We can talk all you want at the reception.”

  Unfortunately, Dean is a lot bigger than me and he doesn’t even budge from his spot. “I’m serious. I... we can’t go through with this.”

  My lips quiver and tears pool at the bottoms of my eyes even as shock blasts through me, my brain unable to fully comprehend this moment. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I accepted the offer to go to Arizona. I’m going to play for the Heat.”

  Air whooshes out of me, and I stumble back a few steps, not completely unaware that Dean makes no move to help me. “Is that all?”

  “Pretty sure that’s big damn deal.” Dean runs a hand through his golden hair, his brown eyes earnest. His lips are set in a line and his normally laughing face is drawn tight. “I know what you want from me and from our relationship. I can’t give that to you, honey, and it’s best if we part ways now instead of divorcing later. You’re not cut out to be the wife of a football player like me.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Ashley. You heard what I said.” He shakes his head. “You should be happy that I’m doing you a favor. We both know you’d be miserable with all the parties and moving, and meeting new people.”

  Anger replaces shock and sadness, heating the blood in my veins. “You’re doing me a favor? Wow. I didn’t realize that not marrying me today was something I should be thankful for. Stupid me.”

  Dean smiles. “I’m so glad you’re cool with this because I thought for sure you’d lose your shit and act all girl crazy. My teammates were rooting for you to knee me in the nuts though.”

  I laugh bitterly. “Oh Dean, you are a moron to think that I’m okay with you breaking up with me on our wedding day.”

  His smile fades. “There’s no need to get personal and call me names.”

  “You better be glad that I don’t do more.” Clenching my fists, I march up to him. “How could you do this to me? I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and if that included moving every year or two because you were traded or wanted to play for another team, then so be it.”

  “I wasn’t traded. I asked to play for them. I’m tired of living in Raleigh and coming in second to Dallas Drake.”

  My mouth opens and closes in shock. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t think I had to.”

  “We’re engaged, Dean. That’s what engaged people do.”

  “Look, you’re making this a bigger deal that what it is. I want out. I tried to break up with you earlier but you never had time for me,” he says, as if that makes everything my fault.

  “I’m sorry. I was busy planning our wedding,” I snap.

  “Look. I’m not ready to settle down. I’m not ready for kids and I’m not ready for all the things you have to have in life.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Things you could have told me before now!”

  “Hey. Hey.” Dean holds up his hands. “Don’t get violent on me.”

  “When have I ever been violent with you or anyone else?” I stare at him in utter bewilderment. Who is this man I’m talking to? Sure, I knew he wasn’t the best decision maker, but in the past, he’d always included me in his—our future. “I can’t believe you would do this to me.”

  “Better now than later.” Dean shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to draw this out, so I’m going to leave now. You can say whatever you want; I’m willing to be the bad guy for you and take the blame.”

  “You are to blame.” Hot tears slide down my cheeks.

  Dean leans down, kissing the top of my head and I have half a mind to knee him in the crotch. “Just so you know, there’s not another woman. Never has been.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” I choke out.

  He smiles at me. “Good luck.” Then he walks out of the room, leaving the already ajar d
oor, open.

  A second later, I sink to the floor and cry in humiliation, sadness, and anger.

  Chapter 1

  Ryan

  Two years later

  I’m in love with a woman who suddenly won’t give me the time of day.

  All right, so maybe in love is stretching it a bit, and the woman in question does, in fact, talk to me... during our puppy-parenting classes, but not like before. She doesn’t flirty anymore, barely smiles at me, and I’m starting to get a complex about it.

  What the hell happened?

  I glance at the object of my inner grumblings and suppress a grimace.

  Ashley Mitchell, my puppy-parenting partner for the last five weeks, smiles at the instructor as she listens to him, her slender fingers stroking the head of her dog, a brown, white, and tan mutt named Bluebelle.

  The first time I met Ashley, she knocked me on my ass. She walked into class, pretty smile on her gorgeous face as she introduced herself to everyone. I was the last to meet her, but we had something. A little chemistry, or so I thought because we sure as hell made sure to partner up together every chance we got.

  Plus, I’d been fairly certain she wanted me to ask her out, but I wanted to wait until classes were done, so there wouldn’t be any gossip about it in class.

  Basically, I was a moron who should have asked her out right after our first class together.

  My dog Gunner whines because Ashley’s not paying attention to him, then again, neither is Bluebelle. The rescued pit bull is seriously in love with Ashley.

  Or her dog.

  Possibly both.

  “Yeah, wish that were me, too, buddy,” I whisper.

  Unfortunately, Ashley won’t be stroking anything of mine because all we ever talked about is our dogs. Nothing beyond that.

  She’s always acted like she doesn’t know who I am, or what I do for a living, which suits me just fine. Honestly, that’s what I like most about the class. Out of the five people in it, exactly two know who I am—including our instructor, Jeff. For whatever reason, they’d kept quiet, and I appreciate it.

  Sometimes, it’s a hassle to be loved and hated in a city like Raleigh, but it goes with the territory. Besides, can I really complain about attention when I pull in millions each year?

  Except, I want to complain about the lack of attention I’m getting from her. Yeah, it’s stupid and childish. But dammit, I’m Ryan Turner.

  I grimace at my own mental asshattery.

  “Ryan,” Ashley calls, and I slice my gaze to her, my grimace melting away. “Bring Gunner over here, and let’s work on his reaction to Bluebelle one last time. Jeff said it would be a terrific way to end class.”

  The pit bull trots over to the woman, practically preening as he goes. Damn dog loves the attention from her. Hell, I love the attention from her, and I’m not even the one getting scratched behind the ears.

  I really need to stop with the dog analogies.

  A rat terrier growls at Gunner, and I tighten my grip on the leash.

  “Don’t do it, buddy,” I say in a low voice. “You’d break him in half before you finished biting down.”

  Thankfully, Gunner listens and ignores the rat and his owner, a local florist with more plants than common sense. “Let’s be friends,” the elderly man chortles. “No need for violence.”

  Seriously.

  Bluebelle happily approaches Gunner, then licks his ear, like she always does. Gunner backs away slightly, and then does exactly what he’s supposed to—he looks up at me and sits.

  Hell, yes!

  I reach down to pet Gunner on the head, and then give him a treat. “Proud of you, G-Dog.”

  “Good job, Gunner,” Ashley coos, chiming in. “Bluebelle is proud of you, too.” She scratches behind his ears, and his stump of a tail wags like crazy. Then she lifts her face to mine, pretty blue eyes shining. “I can tell you’ve really been working with him. Awesome job!”

  If I had a tail, I know it would be wagging right now, too. “Thanks.”

  She keeps smiling at me, sexy dimples playing peekaboo in each cheek. Yeah, I’m a goner for those. “I don’t think you two will need another round of classes.”

  As I rub the back of my neck, panic sets in. I have to make my move. “Yeah. But uh, maybe you and I could have some private lessons together?”

  Oh shit, I did not just say that.

  “Private lessons?” Ashley gives me a confused look. “But Gunner’s done so well.”

  I can’t tell if she’s serious or if she really means back off, dude, you’re being creepy with her question. Not that I’ve ever gotten one of those. Or at least, I don’t remember getting one.

  Most women like to be in my company, even before the fortune and fame. I’m charming, they say. I know how to sweet talk, dirty talk, and charm my way into hearts and bedrooms, they say.

  Or I thought I did.

  Gunner tugs on his leash. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Her forehead wrinkles. “It wasn’t?”

  Cocking my head to one side, I study her. “Look, if I’ve overstepped my—”

  She forestalls my attempt to apologize and save face by holding up her hand. “Ryan, you seem like a super nice guy, but I don’t date f—uh... fellow classmates.”

  Super nice guy? Doesn’t date fellow classmates? If that isn’t the kiss of death... “After tonight, I won’t be your fellow classmate,” I point out, determined to play this conversation out to the end. One that has us committed to getting coffee together, at the very least.

  “Besides, after tonight, you won’t see me or Bluebelle again.”

  I cross my arms, warming up to our banter. “Suppose I do see you again... does that mean I can ask you out?”

  “If you see me again, then go for it.” She pats Gunner on the head again, and the dog licks her hand. “Keep working with Gunner. He’s such a sweet boy.”

  “Thanks for being my partner,” I say before she walks away to gather her things.

  “You’re welcome,” she calls out, then waves goodbye to the rest of the class. “Thanks for your expertise, Jeff.”

  The class echoes her sentiments, including me.

  I know when to be a gracious loser. I also know patience pays off in the end. All I have to do is make sure I run into her somehow, and then I can ask her out. She didn’t say no. She just gave me the rules. I can live with that.

  As long as I know the rules, then I can play whatever game she throws at me.

  Chapter 2

  Ashley

  I can’t get Bluebelle to the parking lot fast enough. Although I thought my super nice guy comment would deter Ryan, it didn’t. It’s almost like I’d issued a challenge. Well, maybe that isn’t the challenge I issued, but seeing me again so he can ask me out on a date is.

  Opening the back of my SUV, I help Bluebelle inside and close the gate. Then, I jump in, throw my purse into the passenger seat, and start up the engine before putting it into drive.

  Not until I make a right onto I-540 do I let out a sigh of relief. Since it’s almost suppertime on a Sunday, traffic isn’t too crazy and that means I can think about my last conversation with Ryan.

  Until, that is, I pass a billboard with his image on it—the one week old one that nearly sent me crashing into the median when I realized that puppy-parenting class Ryan Turner is not the identical twin of Raleigh Renegade with the same name. He looks sexy, wearing his Renegades uniform and a panty-melting smile. I can admit that much to myself, but he is also a football player.

  I don’t date them.

  Anymore.

  Okay, so it was one guy, THE ONE, who broke my heart and left me standing in complete shock at the church—five minutes before the ceremony was supposed to start. I spent the first part of our honeymoon—sans the groom—drinking champagne in an mostly empty reception hall, then crying my eyes out on a plane as it flew to a destination couples’ resort. That had been so much fun.

  Not.

  It happened
two years ago, right after my ex was drafted to the Arizona Heat—no, not drafted. He wanted to leave the Renegades and me to play for the Heat.

  . For me, the out of sight, out of mind thing helps. Phoenix is a long way from Raleigh—thank God because if I had to look at his image on my way to work every day, I’d probably get arrested for destruction of private property.

  Sure, it isn’t fair to paint Ryan with the same brush as my ex, but Dean had really, really hurt me. We’d been together since sophomore year of college and made it through the rest of college, a break up of seven months while he played for the Renegades before crawling back to me on his hands and knees... He’d sent me flowers, chocolates, and took me on trips to Cancun and Jamaica... then he popped the question. Like a love struck fool, I said yes.

  I should’ve known he only wanted me because the season was over and I’m a safe choice. A woman who wasn’t after his money and didn’t care about stealing his spotlight.

  No, he didn’t cheat on me, or even put his hands on me in anger. He was honest, and admitted he wasn’t ready to settle down. That he wasn’t ready for a wife and kids.

  All he wanted to do was concentrate on his career.

  All he wanted to do was leave me behind and tell me how much of a favor he was doing for me.

  Funny thing is, I never remember saying or wanting half that stuff. Kids, eventually. A dog, of course. But the other... I’d been ready to follow him anywhere, even if it meant relocating my prosthesis accessory business to move to Phoenix and start over again.

  In any case, Dean didn’t give me the choice. He simply walked out of the bridal suite and never looked back.

  Bluebelle makes a huffing sound, and I glance into the rearview mirror. “Almost home, sweetie,” I say.

  The rescue lab/boxer/indeterminable origin hates to ride, but she put up with the trip. I like to think it’s because she has a crush on Gunner.

  If it wasn’t for the fact Ryan is a football player, I’d be all over him. Literally. The abs on display are lickable. His shoulders are broad and he has those indentions... the ones I personally like to spend time paying lots of attention to.