On the Fly Read online

  On the Fly

  Courtney Abbott is a gold medal winning Olympian who always dreamed of playing in the NHL. But breaking into a man’s game is nearly impossible, and she’s put her all into playing in a semi-pro women’s ice hockey league.

  Concert violinist Lana Caruso and her teenage son return home to care for her father. The move is only temporary, though--as soon as he recovers, Lana plans to return to Chicago and her position in the orchestra.

  Court knows Lana isn’t going to be sticking around for long, but she’s used to living life on the fly. She doesn’t think for even a second she’ll end up truly falling for Lana, but when hearts are on the line, love becomes the one game she can’t afford to lose.

  Praise for PJ Trebelhorn

  The Right Kind of Wrong

  “[A] nice, gentle read with some great secondary characters, easy pacing, and a pleasant writing style. Something you could happily read on a lazy Sunday afternoon.”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  “PJ Trebelhorn has written a romantic, sexy story with just the right amount of angst.”—Kitty Kat’s Book Review Blog

  “The love story between these two characters is well formed and you can understand their feelings for one another as well as knowing the inner turmoil of potentially losing your best friend.”—Les Rêveur

  From This Moment On

  “From This Moment On is a fine read for coping with loss as well as being a touching lesbian romance tale.”—Midwest Book Review

  “Trebelhorn created characters…that are flawed, faulted, and wholly realistic: While many of the characters are struggling with loss, their unique approaches to dealing with it reveal their weaknesses and give the reader a deeper appreciation of the characters…From This Moment On…tells a gripping, emotional story about love, loss, and the fusion of the two.”—Philadelphia Gay News

  Desperate Measures

  “I love kick-ass police detectives, especially when they’re women. This book contains a superior specimen of the breed.”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  Taking a Gamble

  “This is a truly superb feel-good novel. Ms Trebelhorn is obviously an accomplished writer of engaging and riveting tales. Not only is this a very readable novel but it is full of humour and convincing, beautifully written and conceived realities about falling in love for the first time.”—Inked Rainbow Reads

  On the Fly

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  On the Fly

  © 2018 By PJ Trebelhorn. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-256-0

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: September 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  By the Author

  From This Moment On

  True Confessions

  Missing

  Trusting Tomorrow

  Desperate Measures

  Up the Ante

  Taking a Gamble

  The Right Kind of Wrong

  Twice in a Lifetime

  On the Fly

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve loved the game of ice hockey for as long as I can remember. My uncle Tom took me to my first Portland Buckaroos game when I was about seven, and I was hooked for life. When they left Portland, we were without a team for about three years until junior hockey finally came to town. Even though I live in New York now, I still follow the Portland Winterhawks, a junior team in the Western Hockey League (WHL), one of three leagues under the umbrella of the Canadian Hockey League (CHL) mentioned in this book. Unfortunately, I never learned to ice skate, so I never played the game, but I always dreamed of what it would have been like to play.

  I want to thank everyone at Bold Strokes Books for being so wonderful to work with, especially Sandy Lowe and Radclyffe. I’m proud to be a part of the BSB family.

  Thanks also to my editor, Cindy Cresap, for making it look like I know what I’m doing. Your humor and insight are amazing.

  Thanks to my sister, Carol, for continuing to be my biggest cheerleader. Also to Susan and Harvey Campbell for being two of the best people I know.

  A big thank you to my wife, Cheryl, for always supporting me and understanding my need to write. You truly are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  But the most important thank you goes out to you, the reader. I love hearing from you, whether it be through email or messages and posts on Facebook. As long as you keep reading, I’ll keep writing.

  For Cheryl, always

  Chapter One

  “Shit,” Courtney Abbott muttered under her breath as she picked herself up off the ice again. She glared at the woman who’d driven her hard into the boards and took a couple of strides toward her.

  “What’s the matter, Abbott?” Jen Hilton asked, a wicked grin showing through the cage covering her face. “Are you finally realizing you’re getting too old for this?”

  Court dropped her stick and moved toward her again, taking satisfaction in watching as Hilton’s grin slowly disappeared. She was getting tired of this rookie pushing her buttons. Maybe it was time to teach her a lesson.

  Their coach, Gail Crawford, blew her whistle and quickly skated over to stand her ground between them. “Are you ladies finished? You know this is supposed to be a practice, right? Court, I need you in the lineup tomorrow night—not sitting in the stands with an injury that could have easily been avoided.”

  “It’s all good,” Jen said as she skated backward and tapped her stick on the ice a couple of times. Court stayed in place and watched her, hoping like hell she’d fall on her ass. “Come on, Abbott, let’s show them how it’s done.”

  This was a taunt, something Court was used to from the younger players who thought their shit didn’t stink. She looked around at her teammates, who were all watching the exchange with a little too much interest as far as Court was concerned.

  “We’re done for today,” Gail said after a moment. When no one moved to leave the ice, she turned and looked at all of them. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

  They all skated away, and when Court started to follow them, Gail grabbed the sleeve of her jersey, effectively stopping her.

  “Hold up a second, Court,” she said.

  Court turned and met her eyes. They’d known each other for years, since before Court even started playing hockey. Gail had been the older sister of one of Court’s best friends when Court was eight years old and Gail was fifteen. The best friend of her youth, Gail’s little sister Jeanine, dropped out of Court’s life when she came out to her at sixteen. Gail had always been there for her, though, and Court was forever grateful for her support.

  “What?” Court asked, feeling a bit snippy. She shoved her right glove under her arm and pulled her hand out of it.

  “What the hell’s going on between you and Hilton?”

  “You should ask her, because I seriously have no clue.”

  “Look, I know s
he has a chip on her shoulder, but she could be the future of this team,” Gail said. Court shook her head and looked down the ice toward the empty net.

  “I know, but Jesus, Gail, she’s an ass.” Court knew Jen Hilton could be the future, but knowing it was true didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “But right now, I’m still here, and I have two years left on my contract. I’m thirty-four years old. I know I’m not going to be playing this game forever, but I’d like to enjoy the time I have left.”

  “Christ, you make it sound like you’re in the death throes.” Gail laughed as she started to skate slowly toward the bench. Court matched her stride for stride.

  “It kind of feels like it sometimes.” Court playfully nudged her with an elbow before unsnapping her chinstrap and removing her helmet. She handed it to Gail and ran a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. “If I was, it would certainly make Hilton happy.”

  “No doubt, but you need to find a way to work with her, Court.” Gail stopped before stepping off the ice. “You need to teach her the ropes.”

  “Like hell, Gail,” Court said, sounding as whiny as she had when she was ten. “She thinks she knows everything there is to know about everything already. I can’t teach her anything.”

  “You need to try,” Gail said softly. “It isn’t me. This is coming from the front office.”

  “Fuck.” Court took her helmet back with a little too much force.

  “Hurry up and get showered,” Gail said. “You and I are going for pizza. My treat.”

  Court nodded and headed for the locker room. She breathed a sigh of relief as she sat on the bench in front of her locker and leaned down to unlace her skates. She hoped Jen was gone and not simply in the shower, because the woman seriously rubbed her the wrong way. Sure, Court had been young once too, but she didn’t think she was ever as brash as Jen Hilton.

  Playing professional ice hockey had been Court’s dream for as long as she could remember. Of course, she’d always thought she might be able to break into the men’s game, but she was convinced now it would probably never happen for a woman. So she was grateful there were small women’s leagues popping up over the years to give young women the opportunity to play other than just for a national and an Olympic team.

  The league she played in consisted of eight teams, and she’d played her entire career with the Kingsville Warriors. She’d also been in two Olympics and had two medals to show for it, one of them gold and the other a bronze. Playing professional women’s hockey was never going to make her rich, though. Her day job was being a Realtor, which was okay and more than paid the bills, plus it was flexible enough to allow her to play hockey. If she had a game, or a practice, she just didn’t schedule any appointments during a time that might interfere. But she so wanted hockey to be her career in some way, shape, or form.

  “Wake up, Abbott,” Jen said with a slight shove to her shoulder, her hair still wet from the shower. “Is it past your bedtime?”

  Court said nothing in response, but simply went about removing her jersey and pads. She knew Jen saw her silence as a sign of weakness, but she didn’t really care. Jen could think whatever she wanted.

  “Hilton, back off,” said Charlotte Lincoln, their starting goaltender. She was young too, but she wasn’t full of herself like Jen. Court liked her.

  “This is none of your business,” Jen told Charlotte without looking away from Court.

  Court stood, and she felt a small amount of satisfaction when Jen took a step back from her. Being almost six feet tall was an advantage at times like these.

  “You have a problem with me, Abbott?” Hilton asked.

  “Nope,” Court replied with a shake of her head and a slight curve of her lips. “I don’t have a problem with anybody. I’m the most laid-back person you’ll ever meet.”

  “Truth!” a couple of women a few feet away from them called out. Court smiled to herself and grabbed the shampoo from her locker. The Warriors were a family, and Court loved how they stuck up for each other, on or off the ice.

  Court was a bit surprised when Jen turned her back and started getting things from her locker so she could leave. Why was she backing off so easily? I don’t trust her. Court slammed her locker shut and headed for the shower.

  “Maybe your teammates would be interested in knowing they’re sharing a shower with a lesbian.”

  There it was. The idiot kid who thought she could get under Court’s skin. Better people had tried and failed over the years. She turned back and faced her, but her line mate, right winger Savannah Wells, shoved Hilton hard against the locker. Court stayed where she was. Court was the captain of the team, but there were some things she’d rarely get involved in. Especially when there was someone who needed to be put in their place.

  “Listen, you little bitch,” Savannah said, getting right into her face. “Most of us have been playing together for longer than you know. If you think any of us didn’t already know that about our captain, then you’re more stupid than I thought.”

  “And she’s not the only one, Hilton,” a voice said from the other side of the room. Court looked at her left wing Kelly Rawlins, and they smiled at each other. “So you might want to watch what you say, and who you say it to.”

  Court went to the showers. Her family had her back.

  By the time she emerged from the shower, a towel covering her body, Jen Hilton was long gone. Savannah and Kelly were waiting for her at her locker, though.

  “Please tell us the Warriors are going to use her as trade bait,” Savannah said.

  “I wish I could,” Court answered as she pulled on her underwear and a pair of jeans. She rubbed her hair with a towel she then tossed into the dirty laundry bin before quickly putting on her bra and pulling a T-shirt over her head. She finger combed her hair and took a seat to put her shoes and socks on. “You know as well as I do they think she’s the future of this team.”

  “Fuck,” Kelly said. “We have good chemistry on this team. Why do they want to mess with a championship roster?”

  “None of us are getting any younger,” Court said, pointing out the obvious. “You have to make changes so the team doesn’t suffer.”

  “What if the team suffers because of the changes?” Savannah asked, looking pissed off.

  “We’ve all dealt with women like her in our careers,” Court told them. “And they generally settle down and become productive and valuable parts of the team.”

  “Why are you defending her?” Savannah asked, looking as though her head might explode. “She ran you hard into the boards in a practice, Court, and then continued to ride you here in the locker room. That is not acceptable.”

  Court shoved her equipment into her athletic bag and shut her locker. They played their games in this arena but didn’t have a dedicated locker room. Other teams and even the public used them during the times they weren’t scheduled to either play or practice, so they couldn’t leave anything behind. She hefted the huge bag and slung it over her shoulder before turning to face them.

  “She’ll either mature, or she’ll get what’s coming to her from someone on another team,” she said quietly. She shook her head because she so wanted to be the one to put her in her place, but knew that line of thinking would get her nowhere. “Just let it go, okay, guys? As far as I’m concerned, at this point in her career, she isn’t worth a suspension or having one of our contracts bought out. We need to show her through our actions how she should carry herself.”

  Her teammates stood in defiance for a moment, but they finally nodded their agreement. Court breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You want to go out with us tonight?” Kelly asked. “There’s going to be a lot of women at the bar.”

  “No, not tonight,” she answered as she headed toward the door. “I’m going for pizza with Gail, and probably her family too. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  Chapter Two

  “Lana!” Joey yelled from the kitchen. She stopped what she was doing—getting a customer a p
itcher of beer—and looked back at him. “Order up!”

  Lana Caruso sighed in frustration. He couldn’t have waited for her to finish with the beer? Working in her family’s pizzeria at the age of thirty-six wasn’t what she’d ever thought she’d be doing, but her father had suffered a pretty major heart attack and Joey had asked her to come back home to help with things at the pizzeria. She’d never been able to say no to Joey. Unfortunately, that meant taking a leave of absence from her position as second violin in the Chicago Orchestra. And now, here she was, more than seventy miles from the nearest metropolis, and stuck in Kingsville, Pennsylvania, once again.

  “I was helping someone, Joey,” she said as she grabbed the pizza and walked away to deliver it to the table of hungry customers without waiting for a response from him. No doubt it would just be something likely to piss her off anyway. He should be grateful she was helping him out at all. Thankfully, the orchestra gig paid her well, and she had plenty of money saved. She just wasn’t happy about making Eric change schools for the rest of the year. Also, living in the room she’d grown up in wasn’t helping matters. At least she had an appointment in the morning with a Realtor to see about leasing a house.

  Where the hell were all these people coming from anyway? It was a freaking Tuesday night, and she hadn’t had an opportunity to even sit down for more than thirty seconds. She pointed at an empty table, a hot commodity apparently, for the two women who’d just walked in. They’d just have to wait for her to catch a minute to be able to take their order.