Page 57 of Hotshot

This was the first time since their kiss they’d been in close proximity, not at work, just the two of them. Whatever it was that had drawn them together was very much still there. That ping of magnetism. Sloane had to hold herself in place not to wrap her arms around Ella and proclaim her off limits to everyone else.

Ella held up a bag of presents. “I brought wine and chocolates, I figured they were safe Christmas gifts?”

“I think they’re exactly what Santa gives when he’s not quite sure what to leave,” Sloane replied. “Although sadly, he forgot to visit my apartment this morning.” She gave Ella a sad pout.

“We’ll have to rectify that later.” Ella’s cheeks turned a colour that might be described by a paint chart as Raspberry Bellini. She shook her head. “I mean, I have a gift for you, but I’m not bringing it. You can have it later.” Her cheeks went up a paint colour. Perhaps Volcanic Red. “The present, I mean!” She shook her head. “I’m going to stop talking now. Shall we get in the lift and get to Christmas with your family?”

* * *

Sloane wasn’tsure what to expect from spending Christmas with a bunch of relative strangers, but it turned out better than anything she dared to dream. Back in her actual family home in Detroit, there were too many rules, too much snow, and far too much religious dogma weighing them down. Sloane had never fitted in, no matter how hard she tried. She wasn’t the daughter her parents ordered. Then again, she wasn’t sure who would be. Sloane had always relied more on found family than actual flesh and blood. Now she’d met this side of her family, perhaps she’d need a rethink.

Ten minutes inside Cathy’s homey semi and she was part of the family, as was Ella. It was extraordinary, and so freeing. Here, she could be completely herself: soccer player, lesbian, coffee-lover, Monster Munch convert. And whatever the hell else she wanted. What’s more, she was even celebrated for it. This family were welcoming, and excited to see her. It wasn’t anything Sloane had ever experienced before.Would it have been the same with her great-grandparents, Eliza and Robert? She liked to think so. A woman who pretended to be a man to play soccer knew all about the struggles of being an outsider. Every time she thought about Eliza, her heart swelled.

Cathy fussed around in a sparkly top and slippers with reindeers on them, insisting Sloane and Ella sit right in the middle of the massive cream corner couch. To her right stood a six-foot Christmas tree stacked with decorations, guarding a pile of presents underneath. The air was hung with the smells of roast meats and all the trimmings, and jolly gold tinsel spilled from the red-brick fireplace.

“You already know my son Ryan, and this is his girlfriend, Hayley.”

Sloane and Ella gave them both a warm smile.

“Huge fan of yours!” Hayley’s blonde ponytail jiggled as she spoke, her grin so wide it almost fell off her face. “I cannot believe I’m spending Christmas with Sloane Patterson!” She leaned over Ryan, sat next to Sloane. “Don’t worry, though. Cathy told me I’m not allowed to take any photos without your permission.” She grinned a little wider. “By the way, that goal you scored to win the championship at LA last season? I’ve watched it tons of times. Ryan’s sick of trying to compete to get my attention because of it, aren’t you?”

To her side, Ryan gave Sloane a shy smile. He seemed a little more starstruck now he really knew who she was. “It was a great goal. I’ve watched it a few times since we met.” He fist-bumped Sloane.

Cathy’s husband, Rich, walked in carrying a glass of water for them both. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? Or is that bad for professional athletes? Ryan tells me he’s a professional athlete, but his recovery from injury normally involves beer.”

“Dad!” Ryan’s cheeks flushed pink.

“I hardly drink during the season, which is why I look forward to summer vacation,” Sloane replied. “I’ve been known to have a glass at Christmas, but with this injury, I’ll stick to water, thank you.” She turned her attention to Ryan. “How’s the rest of the season going? I hope you got some more game time after your concussion. I really am going to try to make it to another game once everything settles down and my schedule allows.”

“Knocked some sense into him, didn’t it?” Cathy said, taking a seat on the end of the couch. “He was off for a few weeks, but now he’s back. Scored a great goal the other week.”

Ryan puffed out his chest. “Apparently the Patterson name lives on through me, too. Although I’ll probably never score as many goals as my great-aunt Eliza, or you.”

Sloane took a sip of her water, still unable to take this in. Somehow, she already felt like she’d been a part of this family for years. She couldn’t explain it, but the warm press of home hummed through her body. Sloane stiffened, and tried to swallow down her emotions. Damn it, she couldn’t cry. She was happy, but that isn’t what tears would say.

Moments later, Ella’s hand grazed her knee, giving it a small squeeze. Just to show she was there for her. It gave Sloane the boost she needed. She took a deep breath and gave her new family a broad smile.

“She’s who I think about with every step of recovery I make. Eliza Power and her amazing scoring record. I want to get back to full fitness again for her.”

“Talking of your great-grandmother.” Cathy jumped up, and grabbed a square present from under the tree, topped with a bow. “This is for you.” Her warm smile was fixed on her face as she handed it to Sloane.

“I’ve got you presents, too.” Sloane put her water on the wooden coffee table and went to get up.

But Cathy shook her head and tapped her arm. “Open yours first.”

The instruction made Sloane’s pulse quicken. She remembered the presents from her childhood family Christmases all too well. There were only so many times she could unwrap a Bible and try not to look too disappointed. But if Cathy had bought her a Bible, she would dredge some enthusiasm up from somewhere. She glanced at Ella, who gave her an encouraging nod.

With the whole room watching, Sloane ripped the paper, to reveal a plain white book. But when she flipped the solid cover, she saw it was a photobook. Put together by her new family. As Sloane turned the pages, she gulped, thenreallyhad to hold back tears. She put a hand to her chest, then looked up at Rich, Ryan and Hayley, then finally Cathy.

“I don’t know what to say.” Sloane flipped another page and gazed at the sepia-tinged images of her great-grandparents playing soccer for Kilminster United. A short history of where she’d come from and where she got her soccer talent. It was incredible.

“I thought you’d like it, seeing as you came to the ground looking for answers. I’ve got some personal ones, but I did some digging around the club archives and cobbled together over 20 photos of your great-grandparents, with Barry’s help. It’s rare to have that many photos of anybody back then, but you can thank the club photographer who was clearly very diligent. Lucky for you.”

Sloane shook her head. “This really is the best present ever.” She looked up and caught Cathy’s gaze. “Thank you.”

Her cousin beamed. “You’re very welcome. You’re carrying on her legacy, and we couldn’t be prouder.” She pointed at the book. “Turn to page five, though. That’s the best photo of your great-gran. She really did look like a man – you can see why she got away with it. But to hold her own in such a man’s world.” Cathy shook her head. “What a woman.”

“If I have half her gumption, I’ll be happy,” Sloane replied.

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