- Author: Danica Flynn
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Score Her HeartA Philadelphia Bulldogs Novel
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Score Her Heart
Copyright © 2021 Danica Flynn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information browsing, storage, or retrieval system, without permission in writing from Danica Flynn.
Cover Photography: Wolfgang Zwanzger /Shutterstock
Cover Designer: Emily’s World of Design
Editor: Charlie Knight
For my Soul Sisters, thanks for letting me annoy you on the daily in the group chat!
I bit my nails nervously, and this time my maid of honor, Katie, didn’t slap my hand away. For the fifteenth time, I fixed the veil on my head, but I still thought it was crooked. Deep in my bones, I knew something was off. As soon as I woke up this morning, I knew something was going to go wrong. That’s not exactly the feeling you want on your wedding day. Especially when the groom was missing.
What the fuckety fuck!
“Did he answer?” Katie asked and studied the bouquet of flowers that I was gripping a little too tightly. Her white face was tinted red with frustration, and her brown hair was starting to come undone while she raked her fingers through it in agony.
I looked down at my phone still in my hand. When I unlocked it, I saw a text from my best and oldest friend, Riley.
RILEY: Girlllll!!! I can’t believe you’re getting married today. Can’t wait to see you tonight!
A smile curled up on my lips. I was afraid he wasn’t going to make it. I knew that my fiancé was hoping he couldn’t, which was why he insisted on a wedding during hockey season. Let’s just say Eric didn’t exactly love my best friend or want the two of us to see each other all that much.
“Well?” Ellen, my bridesmaid and one of my other childhood friends, asked. With her tanned skin and perfect blond hair, I was kind of annoyed that she wasn’t as frazzled looking as I knew I was right now.
I shook my head and put my phone down. My fiancé was late for our wedding, and I couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about this. Like Han Solo flying into the Death Star bad feeling.
I only had two people in my bridal party. Well, three if you counted my mom, who was the matron of honor. Eric didn’t even want to get married, and I never pushed it because I had been happy with him, but his mom kept pushing the topic. After his dad died, he had finally asked. He hadn’t even done it very romantically. He turned to me one night, sighed, and asked, “Hey, should we just get married already?”
I wanted a courthouse wedding, but neither of our moms’ would go for that. Somehow, by the grace of the hockey gods, we had managed to keep this wedding small, but Eric had insisted we do it in Vegas. I had never been a Vegas person or interested in gambling, so we fought a lot about it. Since he was the one who asked me to marry him, I eventually gave in.
Honestly, I would have had a better time if we had just eloped in Vegas, but we were basically told we would have been shunned if we did that. I didn’t really care for weddings; they were fine for other people, but not for me. I felt like it was a pageant for my parents, and I was honestly pissed about it. Especially since they complained about how expensive it was. Even though I told them we would rather pay for it ourselves, but Dad insisted. Irish men were so stubborn; I guess that’s where I got it from.
I chewed on my bottom lip and turned at the sound of the door opening. My mom stood there in her wine-colored dress, her dirty blond hair pulled smartly into a chignon at the nape of her neck. I was hoping for good news, but her mouth was a thin line.
“Anything?” I asked but couldn’t help hearing the slight hitch in my voice.
She shook her head sadly, her brow furrowing in a worried expression.
“FUCK!” I screamed out loud this time and tore the veil off my head, taking some of my copper-colored strands with it.
Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Fiona Marie Gallagher! Language!”
I rolled my eyes but wanted to yell, “Fuck you, Mom, this is my wedding!” Yeah, that would have gone over well.
This was turning into a fucking disaster. Where the hell was Eric?
Katie tapped away on her phone. Katie was Eric’s older sister, but we had grown close over the five years I had been with her brother. I was bad at making friends. Ellen was one of the only people besides Riley who still put up with me. Scratch that; I was good at making friends but bad at keeping relationships intact. I assumed everyone would eventually abandon me, so what was the point? Why put in the work when everyone would disappoint you in the end?
“The guys brought him back to the hotel early last night. So it’s not like he’s passed out drunk somewhere,” Katie commented, but worry was still etched across her pale face.
A stone dropped down into the pit of my stomach. This was really bad.
Ellen put a hand on my