The Good Groom

by Taylor Hart

  “I didn’t mean—”

  He put his fork up, cutting her off. It was easier to be casual about this when h was staring at his meal. “It’s fine. I know some could look at what my family’s going through with Ty or what I’m going through with this whole football mess and blame God.” He shrugged. “I don’t understand that, because I don’t believe God works that way.”

  She put her fork down and focused her attention on him. “You don’t?”

  “Nope. My dad used to tell me and my brothers, ‘It rains on the just and unjust.’ He said God doesn’t make things perfect in our lives. He trusts us to figure things out.” Dax liked remembering his father’s words. Even now, the memory gave him goose bumps. “That’s the gift God gives us—the opportunity to make a go of things and fight through the struggle.” Suddenly, it occurred to Dax that he probably hadn’t been doing very well in that fight lately. He thought of Ziggy and didn’t feel like talking anymore.

  She quietly picked up her spoon and sipped at the soup.

  Dax decided to talk about normal things. “I heard you’ve been in Puerto Rico. How was it?”

  Sky took a drink of water. “Did you know there are still people displaced and thousands of homes that are in disrepair?”

  Not expecting to be grilled, he shrugged. “I knew about the hurricane, but I didn’t know there was still such a need.”

  For another minute, neither of them spoke. How could this woman be so angry at God, but so devoted to helping people? It didn’t make sense. He decided to stick with a safe topic. “The food is delicious.”

  She dipped a roll into her soup. “Ms. Henley always had the best food.”

  He liked that she ate. It was refreshing. The last woman he’d taken to a social event had just nibbled on a roll. “So you used to come every summer?”

  She relaxed a bit and nodded. “Kade and Anthony used to torture me.”

  Dax smiled at her, remembering how she’d slugged Kade in the arm. “It looked to me like you’re not afraid to wallop them if they need it.”

  She laughed. “I was so mad that Jon summoned me like that. When Kade laughed at me, I … Well, I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

  “Believe me, my brothers and I have ‘put holes in the walls’ kind of fights. Even still.”

  A smile played at her lips. “It wasn’t Kade. It was the fact Jon Kincaid kinda thinks he knows everything.”

  Dax actually relaxed. “It’s annoying.”

  Another bout of silence reigned, and he wondered all kinds of things about this woman. It had been a long time—since Sarah—since he’d thought of a woman as more than just a face to take to social events so he didn’t look like an idiot.

  “Are you going to tell me the unofficial story about you?” Sky asked.

  “What?” he snapped. “You want an interview too?”

  She glared at him.

  He gave her a challenging look. “I told you I’m fine. We should just agree to give each other what we need and enjoy the week.”

  Her lips turned down. “Right, you don’t want me to practice my voodoo on you.”

  He stuffed a piece of steak into his mouth and flashed her a grin. “So that is what it’s called?”

  If he’d wanted to tick her off, he’d succeeded. She stood, her green eyes looking like icicle daggers. “News flash: I told you, I’m a professional. But don’t you think your God would care if we lie about this?” She pointed at him. “Whatever opinion I give to Mr. Kincaid about you will be accurate and true.”

  “Will it?” He stood, feeling the need to taunt her. Who was she to throw God in his face? “You don’t think I looked you up online? Sure, you have some fancy degrees, but you haven’t practiced in a year. I did some of my own fact-finding around the team, and rumor has it that you left last year, chasing some rocker boyfriend to California.” He lifted his hands. “Some professional you are.”

  She closed the gap between them and pushed her face closer to his, her eyes narrowed. “Maybe as much as you are a first-string quarterback.”

  He matched her posture, swinging his head closer to hers. They were close enough to kiss, and he felt the powerful attraction surge between them—like an electrical cord that had gotten free and was waving around dangerously in the street, looking for a way to strike. He stared at her lips and had the sudden urge to kiss her. Instead, he focused on holding her gaze. “Do you really think you can help me?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and Dax noticed she was even prettier up close. As he got a whiff of light vanilla, another round of attraction circled in him.

  She blinked, distracted by his proximity. “Honestly, I don’t know if anyone could. You’re cocky, arrogant—” The tension grew with every word she spoke. “Temperamental, ego driven, not to mention clearly afraid.”

  Fire burned through him. He was afraid, true, but not of whatever she was thinking.

  Her green eyes blazed with emotion. “You’re the kind of man who may not be reachable—”

  Dax cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, gently at first. He cupped her head and deepened the kiss. Sky froze, then leaned into him, her hands lightly pulling at his shoulders.

  He’d never had a kiss like this. It was a nice distraction from the storm he could call his life.

  She yanked back, dropping her hands and shaking her head in jerky movements. Her face was stricken with horror. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I reckon we were both doing some kissing just now.” He laughed, strangely satisfied. “Maybe this is the therapy I need.”

  She slapped him. Hard. “How dare you!”

  Automatically, his hand went to his cheek, which throbbed with pain. “How dare I what?” The woman acted like she hadn’t taken part in that kiss.

  Her horrified look intensified as she stared at her hand. “This can’t be happening.” She pointed at him. “Even if I wasn’t your therapist, I don’t date football players!”

  He cursed and turned away from her, feeling like a jerk. “I should be on a fishing trip,” he grumbled.

  “What?” she asked incredulously.

  “I’m supposed to be on a fishing trip.”

  Sky’s anger and confusion seemed to get the better of her. She rushed out of the room and down the hallway.

  “I’m sorry!” he called after her. His heart raced, and he cursed again. He shouldn’t be here—and he shouldn’t have kissed her.

  Chapter 6

  Sky stood by the window, watching the tide move in and out. The sun had just set, and it was beautiful. Kincaid Island had always been a magical place for her, and this room alone brought back so many memories. As a girl, she used to share this suite with her father. He would have a bed put in the room with the couches. He’d never wanted her to be alone.

  Gently, she reached up and touched her lips. She closed her eyes and thought of Dax Brady’s mouth against hers. There had been so much fire and passion in that kiss. How did she explain that she could feel this man’s intensity? It was probably what made him such a great quarterback.

  She’d never felt that intensity to this degree. It frightened her in a way she couldn’t pinpoint. The man was right. She couldn’t give him therapy; she couldn’t give him anything.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she thought of her father and missed him so much. She’d shoved the grief down all year, getting lost in Paul and then lost in building houses. Now, there was no way to keep those feelings at bay. Dax’s kiss brought them all to the surface, like he’d dived into her soul.

  She shook her head, hating the way he’d kissed her like she’d belonged to him. Even worse was the way she’d kissed him back, then slapped him, wanting to deny the truth of it all.

  Frustrated tears brimmed in her eyes. She didn’t want to be here, and she really didn’t want to deal with all of this. She found herself sitting in the large chair next to the window, her hands covering her face, crying. “I miss you, Dad. I miss you so much.” Pain stabbed her in the
center of her chest. By the time they’d gone to the doctor, his cancer was stage four. The news had made her so angry at her father. He’d been with Mr. Kincaid when his wife passed of cancer. He’d seen how important it was to keep up on his physicals. But he hadn’t.

  She’d quit seeing patients, and she’d stayed with him at the home she was now living in alone. The home her father had given to her. He’d refused chemo, and she’d been livid that he wouldn’t fight for his life. Stage four would be nearly impossible to survive. She’d wanted to fly him to Brazil and do a special treatment, but he wouldn’t do it. Mr. Kincaid had been generous, offering any financial assistance they wanted. Again, her father had refused. She stared out the window. Her world had been shaken when he’d passed. She didn’t even recognize the therapist she’d once been, the one Mr. Kincaid wanted her to be again.

  The realization hit her—she really couldn’t do this. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. She pulled out her phone and, on impulse, pressed Jon Kincaid’s number.

  “Hello, darling. You getting settled in on the island?”

  “I slapped him,” she confessed. She felt horrible about it.

  For a moment, there was silence. Then Jon chuckled. “Did he deserve it?”

  She sighed. “Yes, but I still shouldn’t have done it.”

  “Ah, the boy can take it. He gets hit much harder than anything you can give him. Don’t worry.”

  She hesitated before admitting the real problem. “He doesn’t believe I can help him.”

  Another pause. Jon let out a breath. “I believe you can.”

  Despite everything, his faith in her meant a lot to Sky. “I don’t know if I believe it.” She hated feeling this fragile. “I don’t know if I can help anyone.”

  “Sugar pie, you listen to me—”

  “I actually have an idea, but it isn’t traditional.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m listening.”

  “I want to take him to Puerto Rico to build houses.” Somehow, the emotion in her words didn’t cause a hitch in her voice.

  He sighed. “C’mon, pixie girl. I know this is a tough situation, but you can’t just fall back to what you’ve been doing.”

  She would have protested that he stop calling her that, but she didn’t want to fall apart even more. “I’m not just ‘falling back.’”

  “Do you think that will help him?”

  “It helped me. It helped me when I’d lost everything. Do you remember what you said to my father when you offered him the job to be your assistant?” She blinked against her tears. “My father loved you. You must remember this.”

  “Of course I remember.” Jon’s voice was gravelly. “I said to him, ‘Al, the best thing for you right now is hard work, and if you’re not afraid of that, I need you and I have a lot of work for you. It’d be the best thing to help get you through this grief.’”

  “Yes,” she whispered, sucking in a relieved breath.

  A light laugh came from the other side of the phone. “I swear it’s like your daddy just reached through heaven and spoke to me, pixie girl. Spoke to me through you. And he reminded me that hard work is exactly what Dax Brady needs. Good call.”

  Sky perked up. “So, you’ll let me take Dax to Puerto Rico?”

  Jon let out another sigh. “I will.”

  “Yes!”

  “Okay. I’m trusting you, pixie girl. Don’t let me down.”

  “One more thing.” Her heart raced.

  “O-kay.”

  “I want to let him choose to come or not.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jon said slowly.

  She hadn’t thought of it until just then, but she was certain of it. “He needs to have a choice in all of this.”

  “I don’t like that.”

  Of course he wouldn’t. He was the biggest control freak she’d ever met. “You said you trusted me.”

  He hesitated. “I do.”

  This was the right approach to take. She could feel it. “Then let him have a choice.”

  Jon sighed. “Sweetheart, our deal still stands.”

  She ended the call and stood, smiling as she thought of going back to Puerto Rico. “I don’t care what you say, Jon. I’m giving him a choice.” Then, in a moment of faith, she did something she hadn’t done in a long time: she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. “God, I know I don’t deserve it, but I could use your help on this one.”

  Chapter 7

  A banging sound woke Dax, and he looked out of the window next to his bed and squinted—the sun was just coming up.

  “Dax,” Sky called from the other side, followed by another round of banging.

  Dax flipped the sheet back and went to the door, swinging it wide.

  She was put together. Her red hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck, and she wore a black fitted top and dark jeans. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes, going to Puerto Rico to build houses. You can stay or come—your choice.”

  The news took him by surprise. “What?”

  “You were a jerk last night.” She poked him hard in the chest, as if the change in topics hadn’t given him whiplash. “You were a jerk, and you know it.”

  Naturally, she was right, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to kiss her again. It would be so easy to snake an arm around her waist and pull her in. “You’re right,” he acquiesced.

  Pulling her finger back, she let out a sigh. “But you were right on one count.”

  “I was?”

  “I don’t think traditional therapy will help you, so, as you said, let’s dispense with the civilities and do something different.”

  “Go to Puerto Rico?”

  She flashed a smile. “You’re fast on the uptake.”

  Was she flirting with him or insulting him? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like this woman. She was brassy and bold and a bit angry. She put him on his toes. He flashed a smile. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

  She grunted. “You can choose to go or stay.”

  “Really? Mr. Kincaid agreed to this plan?”

  “Of course.”

  He didn’t believe her. The old man wouldn’t drag him all this way and then let him decide to leave. “Really? And I’ll be first-string quarterback? They won’t trade me?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “You have twenty minutes to decide to come or not. I’ll be saying goodbye to Ms. Henley. You can stay and have the next couple of days to yourself, or you can be a big boy and think about other people’s problems.” She took off.

  A stunned laugh slipped from Dax’s lips. Dang, the woman knew how to get at him. He didn’t believe for one minute that Mr. Kincaid agreed to give him a choice, but he would go. He would chase the rabbit down the hole and see where he landed.

  With a sigh, he turned to pack. What had his mom said the other night—to trust God? Yes, that’s would he would do.

  After reaching the airport and meeting up with a man and his son, both named Jorge, Dax found himself staring at a half-built house, together with an American construction worker named Ron. Ron had hugged Sky for longer than Dax thought he should have, especially because he was clearly a lot older than her.

  Ron politely shook Dax’s hand. “Dax Brady, glad to have your help.”

  Dax nodded. “Sure.” His eyes trailed over the construction site; it was pretty much Ron and the two of them. He turned to Sky. “So we’re the crew?”

  Sky tugged off her sunglasses, and her green eyes glinted with amusement. “Yep, it’s my therapy voodoo.”

  He frowned, not liking the joke.

  “There’ll be four college kids coming soon with Jorge. They’ll be here for the week too,” Ron offered.

  Sky grinned at Dax. “Think you can handle some hard work, Brady?”

  When she put it like that, he did like the idea of not having to deal with a bunch of emotional stuff. Laboring under a tropical sun would be a great escape. He swung his gaze back to Ron. “I’ve never done construction, but I
’m here, and I’m willing to help.”

  Ron laughed. “Willing to help is all I need. I’ll use you guys.”

  The college volunteers eventually showed up, two girls and two guys. The four of them were friends from Texas A&M, all here for the week to gain some experience. The girls giggled when they were introduced to him. “I’m Marissa, and she’s Heidi,” the blonde one said, pointing to the brunette. She looked at Dax like he was an appetizer. “I can’t believe you’re here. Can we do selfies?”

  Luckily, Sky shoved her way next to him and put up a police signal to block him. “No selfies, no tweets. I’m asking for your discretion with Mr. Brady. The last thing we need is paparazzi showing up.”

  Marissa didn’t look convinced, but she nodded.

  “Behave,” one of the guys told Marissa. He rolled his eyes and grinned at Dax. “I’m her twin brother. I’ll apologize in advance for her behavior. I’m Steve.”

  Twins. Dax smiled, struggling against his own emotion. “Hey.” They shook hands.

  The other guy moved to Steve’s side. “I’m Shane. We’re big fans.”

  Dax relaxed, and they all talked about Titan football until Ron pulled the group away to orient them.

  Dax fell into a rhythm of working again. He didn’t mind listening to the Spanish rock music station and having Jorge burst out in song with the radio.

  He listened to the four college kids chatter and laugh. Steve and Marissa would bicker sometimes, then laugh it off. They were friendly with each other.

  Normally, Dax didn’t think about Ziggy—he’d trained himself this past year to push him out of his mind—but having the twins here made it almost impossible not to think of him. Growing up, they’d been the best of friends. They were the worst of enemies, too, but mostly friends. If Dax was honest with himself, he did miss Ziggy.

  Dax discovered he liked swinging a hammer and hauling lumber around. He liked Ron too. Ron was a down-to-earth guy who had given up his construction company back in the States and decided to work full time with this project for now.