Just Chance Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue – 6 Months Later

  Just Chance

  Dillon Hunter

  Just Chance © Dillon Hunter 2017

  Edited by Elizabeth Peters

  Cover design by Resplendent Media

  All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.

  Just Chance is set in Bridgewater, Virginia, and as such uses American English throughout.

  To Aubrey,

  None of this would be possible without you.

  For all that you do, from the bottom of my heart,

  Thank you.

  YTBNYIW

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue – 6 Months Later

  Thank you

  More from Dillon Hunter

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Hawk

  Sean “Hawk” Hawkins took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes closed against the sharp burst of pain in his ribs. It had been easier to ignore when he’d been up and about, playing a rough and tumble game of flag football with his nephews, than it was lying down in a hospital bed with nothing to do other than listen to his agent rip into him about having done something stupid.

  Hawk had always been a little bit reckless on the field, a trait that usually worked in his favor when the team needed to make a big play. But the diving tackle that had led to this injury hadn’t been necessary. This had been backyard fun, not a bowl game.

  And the fact that he knew his agent was right—that he’d had no business putting his injury-prone body at risk just weeks before the start of the season—only made the cracked ribs and assorted bruises hurt worse.

  There weren’t even any trophies from a hard-fought, hard-won game to ease the pain. Instead, there was just this conversation with Corbin, which meant there was yelling, there was drama, there were contract negotiations that were looking a lot more shaky than they’d been before he’d gone out and hurt himself.

  “This is bad, Hawk. Really bad. It’s your third injury in less than a year. Do you have any idea—”

  Hawk held the phone away from his ear and reminded himself to breathe. Sure, breathing with cracked ribs hurt like hell, but it was better than yelling back. He’d done enough potential damage to his career over the previous twenty-four hours without getting into an argument with his agent to top it all off.

  Still, listening quietly while getting lectured wasn’t exactly something Hawk was known for. He was used to calling the shots, making plays, shooting from the hip and asking questions later.

  In his agent, though, Hawk had met his match. It was a fact that nobody could ever accuse the guy of just being a yes-man, and he had no problem telling Hawk exactly what he thought about any given situation. It was that same aggressive, no-bullshit attitude that made Corbin Tucker the best sports agent in the business, and Hawk knew that if he wanted to be the best, he had to surround himself with the best.

  That line of thinking had served Hawk well for nearly six seasons in the NFL, and even though he didn’t always like the man’s methods, it was difficult to argue with the results. The feeling that he sometimes worked for Corbin, rather than the other way around, was a small price to pay for Hawk to keep his name on that starting lineup season after season.

  And since his balls-to-the-walls, take-no-prisoners approach to football and life in general meant that he was no stranger to toughing out some bumps and bruises—or a couple of cracked ribs, in this case—it was absolutely necessary to have an agent like Corbin, with the kinds of connections, influence, and razor-sharp instincts that had been honed over decades in the business.

  Another agent might have been worried about their star player’s well-being, or might have at least tried to be encouraging in the face of yet another injury.

  Not Corbin.

  In fact, being in the hospital only made things worse for Hawk, thanks to a ridiculous quirk of the NFL contract system that allowed the team to cut him at the owner’s discretion, contract or not. Hawk knew as well as Corbin did that as soon as word of his injury got out, the likelihood of his contract getting terminated increased exponentially.

  Even if he somehow managed to make it through to the next season, there were sure to be talks between the owners and management back at the team office in Atlanta regarding his future, given his history of injuries.

  “Do you hear what I’m saying to you, Hawk? Sean, am I getting through?”

  Hawk pressed the phone back against his ear just in time to hear his first name fly out of Corbin’s mouth with an emphasis that set his teeth on edge.

  “This is serious shit,” Corbin went on, “And you’re going to have to get it together if you plan on being on the roster in the fall. You were fine at training camp, for God’s sake! What were you thinking, going out and goofing off this close to the season?”

  “It was nothing, really,” Hawk said, Corbin’s censure making him feel defensive even though he knew this really was all on him. “Well, it was supposed to be nothing. My nephews asked me to play, and yeah, maybe I got caught up in the moment and showed off a little.”

  Even though that was basically the whole truth, Hawk knew it wouldn’t matter to Corbin, just like it wouldn’t matter to the coaches or the owners back in Atlanta. They all cared less about how he’d gotten injured than whether or not they could count on him to get his job done once he was back out on the field. Still, Hawk wasn’t going to apologize for spending time with his family. What was he supposed to do? Turn down his nephews just because some corporate bigwigs wanted to make sure he was out there making money for them?

  No. Nope. Not an option. Hawk loved football
more than almost anything, but his family still won out in a match-up.

  Still, without a career in football, Hawk wouldn’t be able to help his family financially—at least, not the way he’d been doing lately—and that mattered to him, too.

  A lot.

  So he really didn’t have much choice but to suck it up and keep it moving.

  “Anyway,” Hawk said when Corbin didn’t immediately respond, “Like I said, it’s nothing. You get me through this rough spot and I’ll be okay.”

  “That’s right,” Corbin said, finally agreeing with something Hawk had said. “You’re fine. And you’re gonna be fine. I’ve been on the phone with Larry and the owners in Atlanta all morning, downplaying this as an overreaction, an overnight stay out of an abundance of caution. As soon as we’re done on the phone here, I’m gonna get every doctor and nurse in that bum-fuck, backwoods hospital to sign an NDA, then pray they haven’t already leaked your real injuries to the press. You need to stay in that little town and away from the reporters until I can get this thing straightened out. But you’d better be prepared to work your ass off if you do come out of this with a contract. There’s already whispers that maybe you need some more conditioning. That maybe you’re getting soft in the off-season.”

  “I can go toe to toe with any man on that field. Anyone who thinks otherwise can say it to my face,” Hawk said.

  And okay, fine, maybe he could use a little more conditioning—he wasn’t perfect, after all, and at twenty-seven he might have to work a little harder than he had when he’d started out—but damn. There was only so much browbeating he was willing to take. Still, Corbin had made his point and now they’d both work to contain the fallout. But since coming right out and saying that would be a sure-fire way to keep the yelling going, Hawk was going to have to come up with a different excuse to get off the phone.

  Or maybe he didn’t need an excuse at all. He was legitimately in the hospital, for God’s sake. It might not count for much, but surely it had to count for something. And if he had to stay in Bridgewater and out of the limelight so the team owners didn’t get wind of yet another injury for even longer than the few days he’d planned on visiting his parents—or, God forbid, stay for the full six weeks his doctor said it might take to recover—he deserved at least a little sympathy. There would be no social life, no fun, no sex… just family and a few old buddies from high school.

  “Look,” Hawk said, grimacing at the thought. “They gave me a shot of something earlier that is starting to kick in. I should probably be going—”

  And with those words, just as if he’d summoned a guardian angel, the door to his hospital room opened and in walked a vision of… well, someone way cuter than any angel should rightfully be. Someone with flowers and a crooked smile that sort of lit up the room behind him.

  Hawk felt his heartbeat quicken and his breath hitch in his throat as his attention shifted to the visitor, Corbin’s voice becoming more distant. Whoever the guy was, he had Hawk’s full attention.

  Hawk’s body certainly didn’t react this way when the doctors and nurses came in every hour to look at their clipboards and mumble incoherently about his vital signs. And sure, maybe those painkillers they’d given him could be partly to blame for the way he was reacting to the guy, but it was more than that, too. Whatever it was, whoever this smiling stranger was, he gave Hawk the out he’d been looking for since the moment he’d taken the call from his agent.

  “No, Hawk,” Corbin was saying, his tone harsh. "You’re not getting off the phone until we figure out a plan, a way to fix this bullshit—”

  Hawk could almost picture actual steam coming from the older man’s ears, his blood pressure no doubt rising with each passing second. But those things barely registered. All Hawk could see, all he could think about, all he could focus on was the man standing in front of him—still sort of smiling even though he’d also begun to fidget a little and nibble at his lip as he waited for Hawk to end his call.

  Between his asshole of an agent and the cutie with an armful of flowers, there was no doubt in Hawk’s mind which person he’d rather be talking to. And maybe—just maybe—someone this cute meant there was hope for a little fun in Bridgewater, after all.

  “Sorry, Corbin. I hear you. And I can’t wait to figure this out with you.” Hawk’s face split into a grin at the blatant lie, but also because he couldn’t help but mirror the expression of the man in front of him. That sunny smile was just infectious. “But something just came up. Something important—”

  “More important than this? Than your career?”

  “Yep. I mean, no. But...” Hawk couldn’t think straight. Corbin was still yelling and asking questions, but even though Hawk did care about his career, he knew Corbin already had the game plan figured out. He didn’t really need Hawk’s input to know what to do. Besides, Hawk’s problems weren’t going anywhere, but this cutie wasn’t going to stick around forever. “Gotta go.”

  He hung up before his irate agent could find a way to reach through the phone and take out his frustrations on him directly. Hawk knew his record of injuries had put him on thin ice, but fuck it. There was a hot guy with flowers standing just a few feet away, looking at Hawk like he was a piece of candy.

  And the guy was cute. Not just Bridgewater-cute. Actually, honestly, legitimately cute and sexy. The kind of guy who would’ve caught Hawk’s eye no matter where he was… but who also had an indefinable quality that captured Hawk’s attention. One he didn’t see just anywhere.

  Maybe hadn’t seen anywhere else, ever.

  “I don’t know who you are,” Hawk said, setting his phone aside and using those few seconds to let his eyes roam over as much of the man as he could see from the bed. Their eyes met briefly and Hawk felt a wave of heat rush over him. There was no way the painkillers were doing that. “But you’ve just become my favorite person.”

  Hawk’s smile got even wider when he noticed the flush of pink that instantly spread across the man’s features at his words. Damn, this guy had the shy country boy thing down really well. Could he be more adorable?

  “Oh, I’m no—” The man swallowed hard and shrugged a little. “I mean, I’m just the um… delivery guy?” He held out the large bouquet as proof, even though it sounded like he wasn’t quite certain. “My boss said this was a special delivery.”

  “Well, you’ve delivered me from a phone call I was seriously starting to regret, so… that’s pretty special. And now I get flowers, too?” Hawk nodded to the small table beside his bed. “Maybe you could set those there for me, please?”

  Hawk watched as the man scrambled to accommodate the request, his cock giving an involuntary jerk when he realized it meant the man would be coming even closer, within arm’s reach.

  The cutie leaned in to arrange the flowers on the low table, and it was all too easy for Hawk to imagine him leaning in for something else, looking up with that flushed face, that tight little body, those big, deep brown eyes that were somehow innocent and mischievous at the same time…

  “Does this look good?”

  “The view is perfect from where I’m at,” Hawk answered, never taking his eyes off the man. “And your timing was also perfect.” He nodded toward the phone. “I shouldn’t even be in here, but my agent and my coach both worry too much.”

  The man’s brow furrowed slightly as his eyes darted around the room, widening slightly when they settled on the red and white jersey draped over the back of a nearby chair.

  “You, um… play sports?”

  Hawk laughed as the man turned an even deeper—and even more delicious—shade of red. “Yeah, when I’m not laid up in the hospital.” He cocked his head to the side, watching for any hint of recognition. After so many years as a starter for the Falcons, it was rare that he didn’t at least get a double-take from people. Especially around Bridgewater. “You honestly have no idea who I am, do you?”

  It was pointless to try and hide the amusement in his voice or in his expression. Eve
r since the man had appeared in his room, looking shy and uncertain and delicious, Hawk had been smiling so much his cheeks were starting to hurt. And even though it felt a little weird to not be recognized in his own hometown—especially when it often seemed like everyone in town knew his business—it also was sort of nice. It meant that the interaction they were having was real. This sexy delivery guy didn’t have an agenda that Hawk had to watch out for—or if he did, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. It was refreshing, and had instantly lit something inside Hawk that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if he’d ever felt it at all. That breathless surge of excitement he’d experienced when this cutie had walked into his room hadn’t gone away—in fact, it had only intensified. And even though it might be unfounded, or unwarranted—even unwise—Hawk was pretty sure he didn’t want that feeling to go away. At least, not before he got to explore it a little.

  The man nibbled his lip again and shrugged a little. “I honestly don’t. I mean… I don’t really follow, um… is it football?” His cheeks flared again with embarrassment as he asked, and Hawk couldn’t help but laugh again. The guy's innocent honesty was a breath of fresh air. “But I think everyone else in town might be downstairs waiting for you,” he went on. “I’ve never seen so many photographers and reporters in my life. They even took pictures of me. It was crazy.”

  For the first time since the angel had walked in with his flowers, the smile briefly slipped from Hawk’s face. He thought back on what Corbin had said. It was going to be hard to downplay his injury if the media was already swarming the place.