The Turnover

THE TURNOVER BRANSTON BANDITS #1 PIPER JAMES Copyright © 2023 by Piper James All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum For my husband, who taught me everything I know about football. So if I got something wrong…you know whose fault it is… CONTENTS Author’s Note 1. The Calm Before the Score 2. Worst Fumble Ever 3. The Odds are Against Him 4. The Play Clock is Running 5. Welcome to Foot, Balls 6. Team Tessa 7. Communication is Key 8. Penetration in the Backfield 9. Illegal Touching 10. Not a Fumble 11. The G.O.A.T 12. Immaculate Reception 13. Suck my Balls 14. The Ball is in Her Hands 15. Season Tickets 16. Team Riggs 17. Too Many Hits to the Head 18. First and Goal 19. The Pre-Game Show 20. Touchdown 21. Playing to Win 22. A Tight End, I Can Handle 23. Getting Into Game-Shape 24. The Great Riggs Malone 25. Crazy for the Cougars 26. Rivals Reunited 27. He’s Scored 28. He Could Go All the Way 29. I Love your Tight End 30. Riding the Bench 31. The Best Defense is a Good Offense 32. Third and Long 33. The Ball’s in my Hands 34. The Turnover Epilogue Bump and Run About the Author Also by Piper James AUTHOR’S NOTE Hey, so, just be aware that this book contains hilarious hijinks and lots of delicious steamy bits, but there’s also a massive douchecanoe who—in a series of flashbacks—thinks he’s a stud for tricking innocent girls into giving up their V-cards and dropping them like yesterday’s trash…in case, you know, stuff like that might bother you. Otherwise, enjoy! And don’t worry, my man Riggs is the hero you really want him to be… ONE THE CALM BEFORE THE SCORE Tessa I love the smell of Arabica in the morning. And in the afternoon. And in the evening. I inhale deeply, breathing it in as I survey my kingdom with a satisfied smile. Beans & Books was my dream from the moment I took my first sip of that pure liquid gold at fourteen. It combines my two favorite things––coffee and reading. When Mayor Thompkins announced he wanted to revitalize Sublime’s downtown square and that the city would offer grants to help with renovation costs for new businesses seven years ago, I took the leap. And I haven’t regretted it for a second. Bookshelves line the far wall from one end of the shop to the other, a library of sorts that feeds every interest. Gently used couches and chairs I’ve picked up at garage sales over the years pepper the space, as well as the usual bistro sets you’d find in any coffee shop. A large fireplace sits cold and empty on the back wall, ready to house cheery, warm flames when the dog days of summer end and the chill of winter encroaches. This is my happy place. My dream come true. “Did you hear the news?” My ears perk up as I grab a rag and move down to clean the bar near where John and Luke Sumner are sitting. The brothers come in every day and sit at the end of the bar on wooden stools, gossiping like schoolgirls even though they’re both in their seventies. They always have their ears to the ground, soaking up gossip and spreading it like it’s their civic duty. And since this is their favorite spot to talk shit, I know everything that goes on in Sublime. “The Bandits signed Riggs Malone,” Luke goes on, slapping his palm to his knee as he cackles with glee. I go rigid, my fist tightening around the rag until my knuckles turn white. The old men are oblivious to my reaction, going on to extoll Malone’s prowess on the field, his superb ball-handling skills, and the prediction that by the time he retires from football, he’ll go down in history as the greatest of all time. How he’s so intense and focused on the field, the entire stadium goes quiet as he rears back to throw the long pass. The football world calls it The Calm Before the Score. “Did you hear that, Tessa?” I snap out of the catatonic state I’d fallen into and force my hand to move as if the news hadn’t affected me in the least. “Riggs Malone is coming home,” John says, narrowing his pale blue eyes at me. “You went to high school with him, right?” “I think so,” I say, my tone nonchalant though my heart pounds against my ribs chaotically. “I didn’t really run with his crowd, though.” “Funny,” Luke says, cocking his head to study me as if he can see all my secrets. “I seem to remember seeing you two run around town together for a while. Didn’t he buy you an ice cream cone at Jonesy’s one night?” Jesus fucking Christ, the man has the memory of an elephant. I purse my lips and shake my head. “I don’t think so.” “Yeah,” John says to his brother, slapping his hand onto the bar with a loud smack. “I remember you telling me you saw the two of them, all cuddled up on the same bench of a booth in the back. ‘Sweet as sugar,’ you said. Holding hands and giving each other the goo-goo eyes.” “I think you both are going senile,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I hear B vitamins are good for the memory.” I’m bluffing, and the matching looks they shoot me prove they know it. I did have ice cream with Riggs Malone. More than once. But fuck if I want to talk about it. Over the years, I’d managed to push those memories from my recollection. Packed them into a little box and sealed it with