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  Super Secret Santa

  Super in Love Book 5

  Copyright © 2020

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

  All rights reserved.

  Here are the books in the Super in Love series, which can be read and understood alone but are best enjoyed all together!

  1): Super Over You

  2): Super Not Into You: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Romance

  3): I Super Don’t: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Romance

  4): Super Big Game: An Enemies to Lovers Sports Romance

  5): Super Secret Santa

  Click here to see all the book in the Super in Love series!

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  Neil

  Most people only got one chance at love.

  Surprisingly, I was getting two.

  But I couldn’t blow this one like I did the last one.

  Ever since high school, I still thought of Becca and her gorgeous, curvy body. But I thought I had ruined my shot with her before we had ever been able to get anything started. It hadn’t developed into anything more than a crush, and I hadn’t even gotten to date her.

  And yet I had never been able to forget her.

  The last thing I expected was to see her at a Christmas event where I was dressed as Santa, thanks to a publicity stunt my coach made me do to redeem my image as a player off the field more so than on.

  But now that I saw Becca, I had a feeling that she would do more to tame my inner bad boy than my coach and his crazy ideas ever could.

  Sure, she had a kid in tow, but it turned out she wasn’t off the market. She’d had a rough life since high school, and I admired what a good mother she was. I wanted to give her—and her son—the best Christmas ever.

  I was going to do whatever it took to make her mine all year long, and to have my way with her any time I wanted.

  To kiss her.

  Touch her.

  Get inside her, finally.

  I wanted to grab ahold of her plump ass cheeks while I was thrusting deep inside her. And to let her know how much I had always wanted to do that.

  Sure, Coach Kramer had told me to clean up my act. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  And if he did find out, Becca and I would go to whatever lengths necessary to keep seeing each other.

  We’d even say we were engaged.

  And maybe I’d just have to make the story authentic by proposing for real.

  Because Christmas magic had brought me the love of a lifetime and I never wanted to let this opportunity slip through my hands again.

  The only problem was convincing her that I meant it.

  She had her reasons for holding a grudge against me for all this time and we started back up again as something more like enemies than lovers.

  She also had plenty of reasons to be afraid to trust.

  I dealt with it at first as best as I could, but now I was determined to get her to see that things had to change. She had changed me and I wanted her to change and be able to learn to trust me.

  Sure, this love/hate relationship we had going on was fun.

  The back-and-forth banter was interesting.

  And the sex was hotter than a yuletide fire raging at Christmastime.

  But how could I get her to see that our pretend holiday engagement could turn into lasting love?

  Chapter 1

  Neil

  I sauntered into the facilities, hungover, and already incredibly late. Coach Kramer was not going to be happy and I knew that. Luckily, we weren’t starting on the field this morning, so my absence wouldn’t impact my teammates as it would have if we were running drills.

  Today, the other tight ends and I were meeting with our coach, to go over some plays in our books. Then to the field for a grueling day of practice. I wasn’t sure which would be worse with a hangover. Running plays and doing drills or sitting down like an overgrown student trying to stay awake and learn things. I was pretty sure this would be the more taxing part of my day today, given my pounding headache.

  I didn’t mean to stay out as late as I did last night, but then I never do. After a few drinks, bad ideas seem downright necessary. I hadn’t gone home with a woman, even though someone had really wanted to. She was sweet and pretty, but she was also a fan who knew who I was, which was often the most dangerous type.

  Even just leaving the bar on my own, I thought I saw a man with a camera lurking behind a tree and was really glad I hadn’t taken her home with me. I hoped I was just being paranoid, but it wouldn’t be the first time a woman tried to use me to make a name for herself, calling reporters with her story and hoping for some cash and to see her name in print.

  Everyone wants their 15 minutes, I thought.

  Even though I wasn’t the quarterback, the player the sportscasters had their eyes on the most, my social endeavors seemed to make it into the local New York and New Jersey papers weekly, and I had somehow become well known among housewives and the twenty-somethings entirely for my non-field activities. Still, Head Coach Kramer would kill me if another story hit the papers, so I was being extra careful to not take women home.

  Not that I didn’t deserve his wrath because again and again, I had let him down. Playing in high school had been fun, and I had loved the game. Then while still in college, I had signed on with an agent and I was ultimately selected by the Leviathans in the third round of the draft, over five years ago now.

  Joining the big leagues had been quite a change. Being in the public eye was stifling, and while I was just known locally more than anything, the tristate area was a pretty big fishbowl. I couldn’t imagine being a famous rockstar or actor, where there was nowhere to hide. All my trysts were now for public consumption, and the women I took home couldn’t necessarily be trusted.

  A few months ago, I hit a new low by taking a married woman home. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that she was married, and I wasn’t the one who had broken any vows. Yet suddenly, I had become a social pariah. Luckily, that became old news within a couple of weeks and the press moved on to something else, and I was able to safely return to taking home single women, and once again secure my rep of playboy rather than homewrecker.

  Now, I snuck in the back of the room where the coach was meeting with us and sat at an empty desk with a play book on it. Coach was in mid-sentence and glared at me without losing his place. A couple of the guys must have noticed the look because they turned around.

  Johnson had a smirk on his face that said, “really dude?” He shook his head. We finished going over the essentials for this week’s game, which took about another 90 minutes. So far it had been bearable.

  But then Coach Wells snagged me before we all headed to the locker room to put on gear before getting on the field. He wasn’t as high up as Coach Kramer was, but he still had authority over me. He took me aside and confronted me.

  “What are you thinking, Bowman? 4.5 million a year isn’t enough to get you out of bed at a reasonable hour and get your ass here on time?”

  “I’
m sorry, Coach. I know I fucked up, and I keep fucking up. But I didn’t even take anyone home with me last night. And you know that on the field, I never let you down.”

  “That doesn’t matter to me, and that’s not what your contract guarantees us. We are a team, and you owe your teammates your full presence. And how do you imagine I could command the respect of the other guys when I have you acting up without consequence? I don’t need a free-for-all, with all you guys coming and going whenever you damn well please.”

  “I know, Coach. I’m sorry. What will my fine be this time?”

  “Oh no. We are beyond fines at this point, I’m afraid. You are having a sit down with Coach Kramer after practice and some things are going to be spelled out for you. So, don’t be sneaking out like you tried to come in.”

  “Got it, Coach.”

  I walked to the locker room wondering what the hell “beyond fines” meant. I had trouble concentrating on the field, knowing this never-ending day was going to get even worse. Honestly, I was worried for my career. But I thought that surely they wouldn’t keep me practicing for the rest of the day if they were letting me go.

  After I had showered and changed back to my street clothes, I headed to Coach Kramer’s office. His door was open.

  “Coach. You wanted to see me?”

  “Ah, Bowman. What is going on with you lately?”

  “I’m sorry, Coach.”

  He waved me off.

  “Yeah, yeah. You always are. So, here’s the thing. While the general manager wants a winning team, they also want to maintain a good image and the press seems to love finding you in all kinds of compromising situations. So, we need to rehabilitate you. There’s a charity, Christmas for Heroes, that is organizing an event in Caldwell in a couple of weeks. They’ve asked for a couple of our players to show up, to guarantee a larger turnout. The team publicist thought this was a great idea, and naturally since Caldwell is your hometown, we thought of you. Now would be a great time for you to improve your image and show your good side to the public. I already know you’re a good kid, deep down. So, go show everyone else.”

  “So, no fine, Coach? Just an appearance.”

  “That’s right. We’re trying something new for a change, but make no mistakes, this is not us letting you off easy. You will have to commit the larger part of a Sunday to doing something worthwhile, rather than sleeping off another of your crazy Saturday nights. Your contract is currently in an extension, and you probably would have been signed for another five years in April if it weren’t for all the notoriety which follows you around. The franchise is trying to decide if it’s even worth keeping an extremely talented player, who spends his limited free time giving the team a black eye. I don’t need to tell you that we all have a short shelf life in this business, and yours has already been longer than many, considering the circumstances you always seem to find yourself in. Food for thought, Bowman.”

  “Yes, Coach. I understand. Thank you for the chance.”

  I headed out, really thinking about what he had said. I had been lucky so far to not have any serious injuries, and I was still with the same team who took a chance on me, the local team I grew up watching and revering. I knew that at some point, though, they would have enough of my antics. And the worst part was, I would have no one to blame but myself. So, I’d better do whatever they asked of me, and stop being such a fuck up.

  Chapter 2

  Becca

  “Mom! C’mon! Let’s go outside. Please?”

  Mark woke me up before seven on Saturday morning. I would have liked to sleep in just a little bit longer on a weekend, but there were several inches of fresh snow that had fallen overnight, and he was excited to get outside. I helped Mark bundle up before we headed out, but he was getting so big and independent that he didn't really need much assistance these days.

  This morning, I only had to help him with his coat zipper and with sliding his feet into his boots. All his teammates on Pee Wee football made fun of him for being a momma’s boy, but, unlike Mark, then they all came from homes with a father figure if not an actual father.

  We went out back, where the snow was still untouched. The tire swing hung, abandoned, from the Weeping Willow, in the back corner of the yard. Mark was getting too big for it these days and I always reminded myself to take it down but never seemed to have the energy.

  I bent down and scooped up some snow in my gloved hands, squeezing it into a perfect ball. This was ideal snow for building a snowman. And for a snowball fight.

  “Hey!”

  Mark had had the same idea, and he was hitting me first with his little snowball, his creation landing on the side of my left arm as I turned and used my right one to throw mine at him. It landed on his chest. He laughed as he bent down to grab some more snow.

  We were outside for almost an hour playing, and we’d even begun work on a snowman. I went inside to start some hot cocoa, and to find some goodies for the snowman’s face, while Mark remained outside. I watched him through the kitchen window as I stood over the stove, stirring the homemade cocoa.

  He was growing up so fast. I loved every moment of it, even when it felt hard to be a single mom.

  The phone rang, waking me from my daydreaming. The caller ID told me it was Angela, the closest thing I had to a best friend these days. We did everything together with our sons.

  “Hey there,” I said, as soon as I answered.

  “Hey, girl. Whatcha up to today? Enjoying this snow?”

  “Of course. It’s not even 9 AM and we've already almost finished a snowman. I came in to make some cocoa. Speaking of which, I'm going to put you on speaker, if that's okay? I need my hands free to stir.”

  “Of course.”

  “There’s no one here who can overhear us but the cat. Mark is still in the backyard.”

  Mark's father and my ex, James, had died overseas two years ago. Since then, other than our furry friend, it had just been Mark and me in the house, with frequent visits by Donna, James' mom.

  “I wanted to tell you there’s an event tomorrow at the community center for the military families,” Angela explained. “There are going to be at least a few local athletes. A couple of Leviathan players and a Scorpion have already committed.”

  “I don't know, Ang. I'm not anybody's charity case.”

  “Hey there. I'm going and neither am I, and really, I'm not sure how you can even say that, after what James’ service to our country cost you and Mark. Don’t think of it as a handout. Consider it an added benefit of our families' sacrifices for our country. These kinds of things that thank us and appreciate us don’t come often enough. I won't lose sleep over accepting additional Christmas presents for my David.”

  “Give me the day to think about it.” I sighed.

  “Just know that I've been to this type of event before, where they bring in the local sport stars, and they're always loads of fun, with no expense spared to make it a blast for the kids. They usually have a stage with music and dance performances. The players give autographs. I've even seen the same lady a couple of times making the most amazing balloon animals. Honestly, kids willingly and patiently stood in line for her because her creations were that good.”

  Mark had come in, hearing the last part of Angela's sales pitch.

  “There will be a Santa, of course, and lots of goodies for the kids. The whole thing is completely free. They are also going to return on Christmas Eve to visit families with more presents for the kids and with lots of food for the Christmas dinners.”

  “Oh, boy. Where's that, Mom? Can we go?” Mark asked, as he shut the back door and then fought to get out of his boots.

  I turned the stove to a lower setting and sat on the floor to help him, putting the phone down momentarily and then grabbing it again once I could.

  “Ang, I need to get Mark warmed up. Let me call you back later this evening.”

  “Sure thing. And seriously, think about it for Mark. It
’ll be from one to five tomorrow. Conveniently, neither team is playing.”

  “You would know, Ang.”

  She was the only woman I had ever met that was legitimately into watching sports. I’d known women who tried to grasp it for their man’s sake, but not Angela—she was in it for her own sake. She knew everything about every local pro baseball, football and hockey player. I never asked her how that happened, but I supposed she viewed my obsession with estate sales and antiques with the same disdain and disinterest.

  It looked like we’d be going tomorrow, and I was sure that Angela had heard Mark come in and knew as well as I did that it was a done deal by that point. I could never say no to Mark. It wasn’t as if we had any plans anyway, other than church in the morning. Then just another exciting Sunday of lounging and puttering around the house.

  I knew that if we didn’t go, David would tell Mark all about the fun he had missed, the next time they were at Pee Wee practice together, and Mark would be angry with me. So, it was probably best to go enjoy the afternoon. The event didn’t cost anything, after all.

  Despite my pride, that sounded appealing to me. Looking around, I knew I couldn’t afford another added expense. Even with fundraising, Mark’s football program had a hefty registration fee, but once Angela had registered David, there was really no way of denying Mark the experience.

  I always tried to put any decision through the ‘What would James do’ or WWJD test, because I didn’t want Mark to miss out on the experiences a father would grant him just because he didn’t have one. And I knew that James would have found a way to make Pee Wee football work.

  Of course, money also wasn’t as tight back when James was alive. Also, while football wasn’t my thing, the sport was safer these days, especially for the young kids. Having the structure and male influences in Mark’s life, as well as the daily teamwork, hadn’t turned out to be a bad thing for him, either.