Published by Lauren Blakely Books on January 7th 2018
Genres: Romantic Comedy, Sports Romance
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It should have been a simple play…
She needed a football player to step up and be the star for a charity calendar. I needed a sharp and savvy publicist to manage a brand-new sponsorship deal. I scratched her back. She scratched mine. And oh hell, did Jillian ever drag her nails down my back on one hell of a hot night. Okay fine, it was several hot nights on the road.
Now we’re back in town and it’s time to set the play clock back to when we were simply player and publicist. Given the way the last few years have gone, I can’t risk this deal, so it's hands off for us once again. Trouble is, I want more than than just another night with her.
What’s a guy to do when he's always been most likely to score, but the woman he’s falling for is just out of bounds?
I don't date players.And I definitely don't sleep with players.And I absolutely don't fall for a certain player when I get to knowhim and learn he's more than just sexy -- he's clever, funny and has aheart as big as his . .. well, you get my drift.
But my job is at stake, and I can't afford to lose that as well as my heart. The problem is, I think I've already lost that game.
What's a girl to do when the clock is running out, but the man she's falling for is off limits?
I could not wait to get my grabby little hands on Most Likely to Score. I mean, come on! Sports Romance? It’s my go-to genre. Lauren Blakely? Can you say, “Auto buy author”? They are two great tastes that taste great together. They go together like Rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong. You get the picture.
I don’t know how she does it, but Lauren Blakely excels at writing from the male point of view convincingly and with tons of humor. True to form, Jones’s inner monologues are hi-larious. I loved his cockiness as well as his genuine kindness. I swooned over the big, tough wide receiver’s relationship with his ten-pound adorable dog, Cletus.
Jillian is classy and sassy. Jones’s flirtation game is on point, filled with naughty innuendos. Jillian gives as good as she gets while still being a wickedly savvy publicist. Side note to say thank you, thank you, thank you for writing a main character who is a minority. That’s embarrassingly rare in romance. I loved learning about Jillian’s culture.
The magnetism between Jones and Jillian is wonderful. They are clearly well suited for each other, so the mixed signals and attempts to fight their feelings only make the payoff greater when they finally get their crap together.
There is one major shortcoming, though: the dialogue between Jones and Jillian. It’s oddly repetitive and mundane throughout the second half of the book. She parrots him excessively.
“I need to be with you, baby.”
“I need that, too.”
“You’re like a cherry, and I want to eat you up.”
“I want you to eat me up like a cherry.”
“I need to make love to you.”
“Please. Please make love to me.”
It almost seems like another author wrote some of the dialogue because it sounds nothing like Lauren Blakely’s style.
The forbidden romance angle could have been much stronger, but I still found Most Likely to Score to be a very funny and lively story.
Recommended for fans of:
** ARC received in exchange for an honest review. **
“Love it,” Christine says emphatically, her lips and that metal hoop in the bottom one the only parts of her face visible since the lens covers the rest. “How about a little tough-guy look now?”
Because tough guys hold footballs in front of their junk.
“This is my best badass pose,” I say, narrowing my eyes and staring at the camera like I’d stare at the secondary of the Miami Mavericks.
“Oh yes, more of that, right, Jillian?” Christine shouts to the other person here in the studio with us.
That person is Jillian, and she hasn’t looked my way since I strolled in here and dropped my drawers. Damn shame.
From her spot leaning against the far wall, the team publicist answers in a crisp, professional tone I know well. “Exactly. We love his tough-guy face.”
She doesn’t even look up from her phone.
I keep working it for Christine, doing my best to make sure my blue eyes will melt whoever is looking at the picture when the magazine hits newsstands and Internet browsers in another few weeks.
It’s an evergreen kind of issue, since the body edition is one of the most popular. Gee, I wonder why. I’ve no doubt this shot of me with a football for my skivvies will quickly surpass the previous most-searched-for image of yours truly—the game-winning catch I made in the end zone in the Super Bowl two years ago.
But, to be fair, there’s another shot of me that’s searched for maybe a tiny bit more. I like to pretend that shot doesn’t exist.
“The camera loves you,” Christine croons as the snap, snap, snap of the lens keeps the rhythm.
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” I say, pursing my lips in an over-the-top kiss.
Christine laughs. “You are my favorite ham in all of sports, Jones. That’ll be a perfect outtake for our website.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Jillian chimes in. “Make sure to send me a copy for social, please.”
“Absolutely,” Christine answers.
I sneak a peek at the dark-haired woman by the wall, that silky curtain of sleekness framing her face as she smiles a bright, buoyant, outgoing grin at the photographer then drops her head back down.
Jillian Moore is one tough nut to crack.
I’m nearly naked in front of her, and she hasn’t once looked my way.
As the woman behind the lens shoots another photo with my favorite ball covering my favorite balls, Jillian doesn’t even spare another glance.
I’m going to need a whole new playbook to get this woman’s attention.
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