The Virgin Scorecard (Rules of Love #4) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Romance, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Rules of Love Series by Lauren Blakely

Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

The Virgin Scorecard (Rules of Love #4)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Lauren Blakely

Book Information:

Indulge in this collection that begins with Mr. Right Now and Captain Romance -- two romances between virgins and athletes that complete the bestselling RULES OF LOVE series.
Mr. Right Now... I’ve got a problem. After a dozen failed dates - but who’s counting - I’m done hunting for Mr. Right. I’m more than ready to cash in my V-card, and at this point I’ll gladly hand it over to Mr. Right Now. When I go out with my friends for a night on the town, I bump into the perfect candidate. A guy from my past who kissed like a dream but took off before we could say goodbye. The swoony, charming pro athlete is back in the city and he’s as ready to help me with my project as he is to win baseball games. The next morning, I’m deliciously satisfied and I know I’ve chosen wisely. But when he leaves again, I can’t stop wondering -- what if Mr. Right Now is actually Mr. Right? And how do I get him back?
Captain Romance... I don’t have luck on my side when it comes to romance. That’s why I’m laser focused on my career as a sports reporter and making a mark as a woman in this tough field.
When one of the city’s baseball stars asks me to spend a night on the town, I have to draw the line. Just friends, I say.
He’s good with that. Very good with that. So good that I start falling for my new friend.
Of all the swoony, charming, thoughtful men in this big city, why is the one I want thoroughly off-limits? But if I want a chance with the guy they call Captain Romance, I’m going to have to put more than my heart on the line.

This collection also includes Kiss Your Tulips, Limo Bang, and DogFishing, three stories set in the Rules of Love world.
Books in Series:

Rules of Love Series by Lauren Blakely

Books by Author:

Lauren Blakely

The Virgin Scorecard

A collection of novellas

By Lauren Blakely

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Mr. Right Now

A Virgin Scorecard novella



New city. Fresh start.

That’s what I’m about these days.

If I were a betting man—I’m not—I’d wager all my chips at the tables tonight. Everything’s been going my way since I got on the plane in New York six hours ago. We took off bang on time, I landed in my once-upon-a-time hometown early, and now my luggage is popping out of the baggage carousel first.

I grab the black bag and head to the Lyft already waiting outside the airport.

Yep, bet it all on red.

The driver scurries out of the sleek black car, but I wave him off. I traveled light—always do. Baggage isn’t my style.

“I’m all good, mate. I’ll just set it in the back seat,” I tell him as I toss my bag in the car.

The bearded man with the San Francisco Dragons ball cap peers at me a little longer than a driver normally would. His brown eyes flicker a few seconds later.

Given the telltale hat, I’ve got a hunch why.

He points at me, a delighted smile curving his weathered face. “Are you . . . Shakespeare?”

I laugh as I slide into the seat. “I am indeed.”

“Holy fireman,” he says, then rushes to the driver’s side, starts the engine, and peels off into traffic. “Dude. You are everything we need, Shakespeare. I am so stoked the team traded for you.”

I smile as I pop my seat belt on. “I’m pretty chuffed too.”

“Chuffed,” he snickers. “I can’t get enough of it. The British-isms. By the way, huge Dragons fan.”

“I gathered as much,” I say, gesturing to the purple air freshener in the shape of the team’s logo. It hangs from the rearview mirror.

“But I’ve seen more heat in a toaster than in the Dragons bullpen. Been writing letters to Ms. Winters for the last year, begging her to get us a fireman,” he says, naming the team owner for the baseball franchise as he cruises away from the airport. “Everyone knows you can’t go all the way unless you have a fireman.” He slaps a meaty paw against the dash to make his point. Can’t say I disagree. He peers in the rearview mirror, a grin lighting his face. “And we got one. Shakespeare the Fireman. Hey, can I call you that?”

“Have at it. I pretty much answer to any variation of Shakespeare,” I say, since that’s the nickname that’s stuck with me since I played for the LA Bandits three years ago. I started with that team, then was traded to the New York Comets for a stretch, and now I’ll be suiting up for the Dragons. “The only variation I’m not fond of is ‘Shakespeare, you suck,’ which is what opposing teams’ fans call me.”

“Screw them. You’re our Bard now,” the driver says, proud and possessive.

“Thank you. I also answer to Shane.”

He cracks up as he steers the car onto the 101. “Shane, you’re our anomaly. Brilliant, chuffed, bloody fabulous,” he says, imitating my accent.

Not well, but that’s beside the point.

Also, I don’t care if a fan talks British to me, as has become the saying among the so-called Shakespeare crew. It’s part of my anomaly factor, and I don’t mind it.

“You’re the twenty-ninth English dude ever to play in the majors,” he remarks, almost as if he’s citing intel from my Wikipedia entry.

“That is correct,” I say, and since he’s a fan, I don’t need to dive into my story. It’s a simple one, and like many good stories, it’s a love story. My father is a Hall-of-Fame American pitcher—Jedd Walker. He led the league in shutouts and innings pitched thirty years ago, won a couple of Cy Youngs and a World Series. When he retired, he traveled to England, met a brilliant woman in a pub, fell in love, and shacked up with her in London.

And the birds and the bees made me a little later—helped along by a pint or two, I’m sure.

After thirteen years in London, my parents moved back here so I could play baseball in America, a decision that served me well, that gave me the team skills to become a major leaguer.

The driver and I chat more about the Dragons’ chances this season as he cruises the car into the city, the lights of San Francisco flickering like fireflies against the night sky.

I draw a deep breath, energized to be here again, where I lived as a teenager.

I had my first kiss here—under the bleachers at a ballpark with a charming, adorable pixie of a blonde, the kind of girl you could lose your mind for. The kind I nearly gave my heart to. Probably would have if we’d had more time.