Theo (Savannah Heat #11) Read Online Jessica McBrayer

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Savannah Heat Series by Jessica McBrayer

Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)

I never knew a person could hurt so much.

My wife died, and my little girl needed me. I did the only thing I could. I retired early from the Los Angeles NHL team. L.A. is where I’d met my wife, where my daughter was born, and where my career ended.
Sarah died a year ago, and my house was full of haunting memories. My mother-in-law is becoming a problem. She never approved of the way Sarah and I were raising our daughter. Cicely and I had more heated arguments than civil conversations.
I was just going through the motions with the rest of my life, well, except with Rosie. She was the light in my world. I had no regrets about retiring to take care of her full-time. I was tired of L.A. and how everybody stepped on each other to get ahead. I didn’t want Rosalie, my beautiful three-year-old little girl, to grow up here. We needed a fresh start. But I hadn’t figured out how to move on.

Then my old friend, Jakob Baumgartner from the Savanah Heat, called. We grew up together, playing in the same hockey clubs in Europe. We’d become close friends and had always stayed in touch. He was at Sarah’s funeral. One of the few people who actually cared about her and about Rosie and me. He didn’t come because he felt obligated or because he wanted to be seen by the cameras that robbed us of our privacy.
Since then, he called me religiously to make sure Rosie and I were okay. I could talk to him about anything. I knew he’d never judge me. Then he called with a solution. A solution I didn’t know if I was ready for.


Chapter 1


The day I buried my wife, it had rained. Sunny Los Angeles cried when we put Sarah in the ground. I knew the team was all there, along with everyone that Sarah had ever met. Everyone was telling me their favorite story of Sarah while I clung to my daughter. I didn’t hear half of it. All I could focus on was my daughter. Sarah only knew her for one short year. She’d been an amazing mother, but Rosalie was too young to have formed any memories of her.

Brain aneurism. It was quick, and she didn’t feel any pain. It was rare that it happened to someone so young, but it happened. Twenty-eight. Almost two years of that I had shared with her. We’d only been dating for a short while when she got pregnant. We had a private ceremony within a month. Did I love her when we got married? I liked her. A lot. We were attracted to each other. I thought I could love her, and I wanted my child to grow up with two committed parents who lived in the same house, and Sarah felt the same. And we did learn to love each other. Rosalie brought us together and our love for her helped us find our own. There was a deep respect between us. It wasn’t an all-consuming, passionate relationship. Few people got that kind of chance. I was happy with my life, my child, and my wife, and that was more than many people. Somewhere near the end, I knew Sarah’s feelings for me had turned into that all-consuming passionate love and I felt guilty that I hadn’t loved her in the same way. Why couldn’t I have given her that? Now she was gone.

The following months were a blur. There were only four more games in the season. We didn’t make the playoffs that year. My contract was up for renewal at the end of that summer, so I retired. My only job now was taking care of my daughter. Some people understood and others couldn’t believe I’d retired in my prime at thirty. I didn’t care what they thought.

It didn’t take long before my teammates stopped coming around. At first, they were checking up on me, worried about us. I’d been the team captain, and I’d worked hard to keep the team together, to trust each other on and off the ice. Everyone had gotten close to each other. We had each other’s backs. After a while, I think people were tired of my irascible personality. Some still felt a duty to check on us, even though I made it quite clear I didn’t want anyone here. Eventually, I started telling them we were too busy for a visit. The relief in their voices was the final straw. It was just me and Rosalie now.

Cicely, my mother-in-law, practically lived with us in those first couple of months. She was a lifesaver. She was a widow; Sarah’s father having died several years before I met her. He was a big shot director and Cicely had been an actress. Cicely tried to force Sarah into acting and she’d done a couple of movies to please her mother, but she was happiest being a mom. Her mother blamed me for her quitting.