Hat Trick
By RJ Scott and V.L. Locey
4/5
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About this ebook
Stan Lyamin has seen many of his dreams come true. He’s found his soulmate, loves Noah like his own, hoisted the Cup, and has his Mama living with him in his new country. But his fantasies of a loud, loving, madcap home overflowing with childish laughter linger. When a distant family member passes, Stan and Erik immediately agree to take in the two orphaned children, but that means a trip back to Russia for Stan, an idea that both exhilarates and terrifies him.
Erik’s world tilts on its axis when a phone call wakes him and Stan in the middle of the night. Abruptly, Stan is returning to Russia, making deals, working with people who know people, and fully intending to bring two orphaned children home. The red tape is overwhelming, and Erik is alone in Harrisburg with the nearly impossible task of finding a nanny who can speak fluent Russian. Being on his own is one thing, but add in fears about Stan’s safety and team issues, and Erik is finding everything hard to balance; not least of which is spending quality time with Noah.
When their family expands from three to five, the journey won’t be easy, but love can always find a way.
RJ Scott
RJ Scott is the author of the best selling Male/Male romances The Christmas Throwaway, The Heart Of Texas and the Sanctuary Series of books.She writes romances between two strong men and always gives them the happy ever after they deserve.
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Book preview
Hat Trick - RJ Scott
HAT TRICK
A Railers Novella - Harrisburg Railers, book 8
RJ SCOTT
V.L. LOCEY
Love Lane Books LimitedCopyright
Hat Trick - A Railers Novella
Harrisburg Railers, book 8
Copyright © 2019 RJ Scott, Copyright © 2019 V.L. Locey
Cover design by Meredith Russell, Edited by Sue Laybourn
Published by Love Lane Books Limited
ISBN - 978-1-78564-146-6
All Rights Reserved
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer-to-peer program, for free or for a fee. Such action is illegal and in violation of Copyright Law.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
Dedication
To my family who accepts me and all my foibles and quirks. Even the plastic banana in my holster.
VL Locey
Always for my family.
RJ Scott
Contents
Hat Trick - A Valentines Railers Novella
Stan
Erik
Stan
Erik
Stan
Erik
Stan
Erik
Stan
Erik
Stan
Epilogue
Next for the Railers
Hockey from Scott & Locey
Also By RJ Scott
Also By VL Locey
Meet RJ Scott
Meet V.L. Locey
Stan
Watching snowflakes flutter by the window, I was struck by how beautiful snow was and yet how deadly it could be. Like now, it was soft and fluffy and would blow off the wings as soon as the 747 I was seated in took off. But there were snows that could cripple an airplane, sticking and freezing on the wings. Such was how many things were. Such was how my homeland could be. Russia was a beautiful country, rich with history and stunning cathedrals. The people were proud and vibrant and loving. But there was a dangerous side to Russia, one that might make my return risky. It was not a good time for gay men in Russia. The government called us terrible names, jailed us, or worse… simply for loving someone of the same gender.
I glanced at the flight attendant helping the other first-class passengers find their seats and stow their carry-on bags. He’d told me his name was Howard. He was older, distinguished, slim, with salt-and-pepper hair. His accent was British, very pretty, and he fussed over his passengers like a mother goose does her goslings. He’d assured me that, once we were in the air, he would come with the drink cart. Generally, I did not drink much. On New Year’s Eve of course, but other than special occasions, athletes skipped alcohol. Erik was not much on boozing it up. We were happy homebodies.
I looked back out at the snowy airfield. Erik. I missed my beloved already, and the plane was still sitting at Harrisburg International Airport taking on passengers. I shifted in my seat, glad for the leg room that first class gave me. Also, the seat was plush, the blanket thick and warm, and the food and drinks would be above par. Sadly, I would be enjoying all of this luxury alone. Erik had to stay home with Noah. There were hockey games to play, a nanny to find, and paperwork to have in order when I returned with our new children. The team wasn’t happy to lose me for the time required to make this trip, but they had given me leave to go. My stomach flipped in excitement and apprehension yet again. Ever since the call had come during the night two weeks ago, all of us had been bouncing between terror, anxiety, and joy.
Funny how a man’s life can change with just one phone call.
I’d been sleeping soundly the night the news had come, Erik in my arms, our bodies tacky with sweat and semen. My eyes had felt as if they had just closed when Elvis started singing Hound Dog over and over. I had found a new ringtone app called Elvis Ringtones
and picked a new song every week. Elvis had released many, many songs, so I could have a new ringtone whenever I wished. That night, it was Hound Dog, and it played repeatedly. Erik had slid over me, mumbling, and grabbed my phone off my nightstand.
It’s for you. Someone saying something in Russian,
he’d grumbled.
I slung an arm over his back to keep his belly pressed to mine. He let his head drop to my shoulder and his leg shimmy between my thighs. Perfection, I remember thinking before I put the cell to my ear and everything went upside down and inside and out. Is there an and
in that saying? I shook my head. No, I didn’t think so. Inside out. Yes, inside out is right. So yes, the call had come through, the line raspy with static as the service in the small town I had grown up in wasn’t good.
It was bad news. My fourth cousin on my father’s side, Anatoli, had been killed in a terrible accident involving a truck and him on a motorcycle. The two children he had looked after, children of another cousin, had been left alone upon his death, as their parents had died several years earlier. Their father from cancer and their mother from alcohol poisoning. She had been just a young woman, but her drinking was bad, as it is for many in the backwoods of Russia. When I was a child, I would look at the people of my small village and see only gray faces filled with great hardships and bleak futures. Which was why I had worked so hard to get out and make sure my sister and mother did as well. I did not want my mother to die before her time, her life dreary and sad.
The children, it seemed, had now been left to me, or maybe the better explanation was that I had been named as their next-in-line guardian. The poor children had been passed from pillar to post and had never known a stable family. The message was clear—could I come now to Leskovo and fetch them before they went into the government system. It seemed no one in the family could afford two more mouths to feed. I had sat up, stunned and shaken, unable to think of the proper words to say back to one of my uncles. I’d had no knowledge of my cousin naming me as a second guardian of his children if anything should happen to Anatoli, and I had told Erik that, after I’d blurted out some reply to Uncle Maxim about giving me time to make plans and to not allow the little ones to go to the government.
I do not know how the government treats little ones with no parents, but if they treat them as bad as they do gay people,
I mumbled as Erik hurried to dress and find me something to pull on. I go now.
Stan,
he said a moment later as I pulled a pair of jeans over my ass, I’m sure they’ll be fine for a few days until we sort through all of this. You can’t just fly to Russia and toss the kids into a plane headed for America.
Why not? I am chosen next guardian by father. I go now. Bring home. We adopt. Make them ours. We want more children; you say so too. Now we will have three!
I padded to the closet to find a suitcase. Erik slid between the closet door and me. "Stan, you can’t go off halfcocked. This is going to be a tangled-up bureaucratic mess to wade through. We’ll need a lawyer, probably an adoption representative, maybe state and federal permission. Things between the US and Russia aren’t exactly stable right now.