Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

“I’ll come,” she answered. “But at the first sign that I’m even remotely a burden on you—”

“You could never be a burden, Mom.” My heart jumped, and my body flooded with a restless energy. “Are you sure?”

“One condition.”

My hand gripped the phone tightly. “Anything.”

“I want a jersey that says Mama McCoy, just like when you were in college.” Her voice cracked again, and I just about lost it. This woman had given up everything for me and was ready to do it again.

“You got it.” I blinked away the light sheen of tears that blurred my vision and stared out at the Charleston skyline. “God, I wish I could come over and celebrate with you, but my first game is the day after tomorrow. I don’t even know when I can get up there…” I trailed off, realizing how hard it was going to be to find the time to get my mother moved. We only had three days off from games most weeks, and my guess would be I had ice every day.

“Don’t you worry about that. This lovely Asher boy called me and told me he’d send his own plane! Can you imagine that, Sawyer? He owns a plane.”

“Yeah, he does, Mom. He owns the Reapers.” I laughed, and let myself feel it for the first time—the complete, all-consuming joy of having my lifelong dream turn into a reality.

“Oh, well, that’s nice,” she said simply, and I wondered if she had the slightest clue who Silas really was in the scheme of the US—hell, the global—economy. “Well, he said he’d send a team out to get me packed and bring me right to you when I was ready.”

I stood and looked back at the team of men, and now a woman I had to guess was Eden Jones, who represented both Hudson Porter and Axel Nyström. It was hard to believe a guy who was as cutthroat in business as Silas had taken the time to reach out to my mother.

“You just let me know, Mom,” I said.

“Well, I think I’d like to see you play your first game,” she answered as if that wasn’t the day after tomorrow. “And Sawyer, you’d better call up those friends of yours and go celebrate. You understand?”

“Yes, Mom.” This time my gaze drifted back to Scythe. “I love you.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you. Good thing I look really good in Reaper blue.”

She hung up while I was still laughing, and I made my way back to the group. “My mother said you’d send a plane for her when she’s ready,” I said to Silas.

He arched an eyebrow over Harper-like hazel eyes and nodded once.

“She’s ready now. She’d like to be here for my first game,” I answered.

“Does this mean you’re taking us up on the offer?” Silas asked.

“Don’t you answer that!” Eden snapped, pointing a finger my direction. The twenty-something was short in stature, but not in attitude, that was for sure. Then again, her dad was a hockey legend, so it wasn’t hard to see where that bravado came from. “Not until we go over this contract. And Silas, he’s not paying for that plane ride. You offered it. You pay for it. And I expect a healthy relocation allowance for his mother’s trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Silas answered with a smirk. “We’ll leave you two to discuss the contract. When you love it, and you will, let me know. We have the press coming in for an announcement in three hours.”

Well, that was a way to put me on deadline. Not that I could blame the man. They were short a goalie and due back on the ice in forty-eight hours for a game.

“Yes, sir.”

“Anyone who’s held my sister’s hair back over a toilet gets to call me Asher or Silas,” he countered but shook my hand.

“Does that mean—” Hartman started.

“You’re not on that list,” he said before walking toward the door. “You’ve got three hours, Sawyer.”

They filed out of the room, leaving me with the woman who was now my agent.

“Well,” she said, sticking her hand out. “I’m Eden Jones. Axel and Porter have told me a lot, but Langley won’t shut up about you, so I feel like I already know you.”

“Sawyer McCoy.” I shook her hand. “If they trust you, then I do. Thank you for taking me on.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s make sure you don’t get screwed over.”

Three hours later, the contract was signed, and a Reapers’ jersey covered my torso.

“You ready?” Eden asked, nodding toward the room where the press waited.

“One second.”

I finished firing off a text.

Sawyer: I’m coming by the bar in a little bit. Looks like I need to pay my tab.

I waited with held breath as the dots cycled, showing she was typing out a reply.

Echo: That’s amazing. I can’t wait to see you.