The Good Groom

by Taylor Hart

  “That’s quite generous of you,” Dax said as they worked together. “Giving up your whole company to come here and help.”

  Ron shrugged. “I left out the part about a divorce and looking for purpose in my life.”

  Dax met his eyes and said, “I understand.”

  Ron laughed, and Dax found himself opening up and telling Ron about his life. About Ty. About the reason he was here.

  Sky worked hard, her stamina impressive. She had the physical endurance for swinging the hammer for hours, and she didn’t need much direction. Ron would tell her what needed to be done, and she would do it, no explanation required.

  When they finally knocked off for the day, Dax was surprised to find they weren’t going to a hotel. They’d be staying at the home of Jorge, the man who appeared to be in charge of the project.

  Dax leaned into her, whispering, “Why are we staying with him?”

  “Because we are here to help and to have an experience.” She flashed him a grin. “It’s part of the voodoo therapy.”

  “Ha. Ha.” He didn’t find her funny, but he liked that she was more confident here in Puerto Rico than she had been at the island.

  Jorge’s house was a nice home, big for the neighborhood. It was on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and there were ten rooms.

  Jorge gave him a tour. “This is where a lot of the volunteers stay, so I have lots of beds. You get your own room, and Sky, well, she has her own room too.” He winked. “Maybe one day you two will get your own house. Then you can stay there when you come to work on the project.”

  Dax took a step back, not sure what to make of what Jorge had just said.

  Jorge laughed and waved a hand through the air. “Just kidding, geez. How do the kids say it? ‘Chill out, man.’”

  Dax didn’t laugh, but he followed Jorge through the house.

  “These last two rooms are for volunteers too,” Jorge continued. “Don’t worry. We do background checks on all of them, so we know they’re safe. They come with different organizations that want to help.”

  Dax was impressed this man basically loaned out his house. “Doesn’t it bother you to have different people staying all the time?”

  Jorge hesitated, his brown eyes looking dim. “I lost my wife in the hurricane.”

  The news stunned Dax. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jorge blinked, and his expression softened. “I vowed that I would help rebuild and I would use the home we made together to help others. To help my people, mi familia.” He put a hand on the center of his chest.

  His words touched something deep inside of Dax. The way he said “my people” made Dax think of Ty, Ziggy, and his other brothers. Shouldn’t he be helping them? Shouldn’t he be in Denver right now, helping to organize this Masquerade Ball? Quickly, he pushed that thought away.

  Jorge’s grin widened, and he slapped Dax’s back. “Get showered, football man. Mi madre is cooking. Come down when you are ready.”

  When Dax walked into the dining room for dinner, the first thing he noticed was how amazing it smelled. An older lady—Jorge’s mother, most likely—was serving food to Jorge, Jorge’s son, and the four college students.

  Sky sat at the end of the table. Her hair was wet, and she was laughing with the group. She pointed at Jorge as she said, “I don’t remember it that way.”

  Jorge grinned wider. “You fell off the house that day. You know you did, señorita.”

  She giggled, and Dax liked how she was here—relaxed, happy. Her eyes met his, and he felt that undeniable attraction in full force.

  “Come join us, Señor Brady.” The older woman waved him over, then kissed his cheek. “Welcome.”

  Again, he was overwhelmed by the goodness of these people. “Thank you.”

  Jorge gestured to the seat next to Sky. “Please, sit. Mama made rice and arroz con pollo.”

  Before Dax knew it, his plate was filled with rice and chicken and steaming tortillas. Everything smelled heavenly.

  Jorge teased Marissa, Steve, Heidi, and Shane for a bit before addressing everyone. “I am so happy and grateful you are all here, because what you will be doing the next five days will change people’s lives. You will be fixing their homes and building solar panels and even building a new home.”

  Chills washed over Dax, and he felt himself soften. He’d made the right decision in coming here.

  “The hurricane that hit last year was not like other hurricanes.” Jorge pointed to a map of Puerto Rico on his wall. “Most hurricanes only hit a fraction of the island. This one hit the whole island. Families have been scrambling, and they have been going without help for a long time.”

  Heidi asked, “Jorge, do you really think your small organization can make that much of a difference in all the damage that has been done?”

  “Rude,” Marissa said, giving her friend a frown.

  “Yeah,” Steve agreed.

  Jorge only grinned and put his hand up. “It’s fine. It is totally fine, because it gives me a chance to tell a story.”

  “You’re in trouble now,” Sky said, sipping from her glass of water.

  Jorge let out a low chuckle. “Sky has probably heard too many of my stories.”

  “Never,” she said, sounding serious.

  Jorge looked at Sky with fondness, much like a father would look at his daughter. He cleared his throat. “There was a man who walked down the beach, picking up the starfish that had washed onto shore the night before. As he walked, he would bend down and pick one up and throw it back in the ocean. The boy with him said, ‘Papa, why are you even trying to pick up the starfish and throw it back in? There are too many, and it’s not going to make a difference.’ The man resolutely picked up another one and threw it into the ocean. ‘It made a difference for this one.’”

  Understanding lit up Heidi’s face, and she and the other college kids nodded.

  “That’s really cool,” said Steve.

  “Yes, it is,” said Dax softly. Jorge had lost his wife, and he’d probably lost others in the hurricane. His friends had lost so many things, but though it felt daunting, he had decided to help others.

  A lump formed in Dax’s throat, and he couldn’t sit there any longer. He stood, nodding to Jorge’s mother and to Jorge. “Thank you for dinner, but I’m tired. I’m just going to go to bed.”

  Chapter 8

  Sky watched Dax go, wondering where to go from here. When he’d kissed her last night, it’d been the type of thing silly princesses in Disney movies sang about. But he had perfectly constructed walls around him. The man had kissed her, and fine, maybe she’d kissed him too, but he felt untouchable. As the others talked amongst themselves, all she could think about was how, even though the man was annoying as all get out, she felt something good in him.

  She thought of his brother being diagnosed with ALS, and she knew what he was facing right now. She’d faced a similar thing with her father. Grief. Loss. Pain. Anger. She imagined he was facing it early because there was no cure.

  A bit later, Jorge stood and gestured to her. “Señorita, you come talk with me.”

  She followed him out onto the veranda and looked out over the ocean with him. The moon was bright, and the stars felt so close.

  “That man has pain, doesn’t he?”

  With a nod, she explained all that she knew about Dax, even down to the fiancée he had almost married last February.

  Jorge listened, his expression becoming more and more troubled. He sighed and leaned against the metal railing. “You mentioned you’re the one taxed with helping him?”

  She matched Jorge’s stance. “I told you about my father’s trust. What I didn’t tell you is that Mr. Kincaid made this whole thing with Dax part of the deal. If I can help him, then I get clear access to my trust. If I can’t …” She shrugged. It felt impossible when she said it like that. “I don’t think I know how to help anyone anymore.”

  Jorge put his hand over hers. His palm was rough from years of labor. “Señorita, rem
ember, it’s not what we say. It’s what we do.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Sometimes, we just have to be there and listen. When we stop talking, sometimes they start. Just be there for the man.”

  Sky pounded a nail and tried to understand what, exactly, Jorge had meant the night before. How was she supposed to be there for Dax Brady? She’d known it would be good for him to be here, to focus on other people’s problems, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  Dax was pounding nails next to her, close enough to be divert her focus. This morning, he’d worn sport shorts, tennis shoes, and a T-shirt. Now, it was after lunch, and he’d taken his shirt off. The sweat that poured off of her wasn’t nearly as distracting as Dax’s bare chest.

  “Just be there,” Jorge had said. He had become like a father to her, and she was grateful he’d agreed to let them come. When she had officially seen clients, they’d scheduled appointments and come to her. This situation was tricky.

  “You missed a nail.”

  Jerked out of her thoughts, she turned to see Dax right next to her, pointing to a place she should have put a nail. “Checking my work, eh?” she asked.

  Dax held her gaze. “Guess you needed me to check it.”

  The look of superiority on his face ticked her off, but she ignored it and pounded another nail into place.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, walking away from her.

  She hadn’t tried that hard to develop a real friendship with him. No, she’d been coming into this thing like a job. Another hour went by, and she brainstormed ways she could talk to him.

  “Hey, Dax,” Marissa said, sidling to him. “Heidi and I were thinking of going out tonight. Would you want to come with us?”

  Sky looked over to see Marissa put a finger on Dax’s shoulder and trace it down the back of his arm. The gesture made her irritation flare up.

  Dax froze. Slowly, he pulled his sunglasses off his face. “Listen, Marissa. I’m not your father, but I feel like I need to tell you that hitting on men in this way is not becoming.”

  Sky’s heart lightened, and she smiled, turning back to focus on nailing a board.

  “Oh,” Marissa said, disappointed. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know, and I don’t want you to worry about it, but you’re young, and you have a lot of potential in front of you. Don’t be getting mixed up with the kind of men who might take advantage of you.”

  Sky couldn’t stop herself from grinning even wider. She glanced over and saw Marissa’s bottom lip trembling.

  “I’m so embarrassed.” Marissa turned away.

  Dax reached for her hand. “You don’t need to be.” He really did sound fatherly.

  Marissa broke down into full tears.

  Dax’s eyes met Sky’s, and she turned away, trying not to laugh at the situation.

  “Now, now,” Dax said, trying to comfort Marissa. “You get on back to work. Just remember, you’re a nice girl, and you don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

  Marissa sniffed and went back down the ladder.

  Sky couldn’t stop the giggles from bubbling up.

  “Stop that.” Dax’s voice in her ear made her jump.

  She met his gaze, and they both were grinning like they were sharing some inside joke. She shook her head. “You were pretty great with her.”

  A troubled look crossed his face. “Poor girl needs some guidance.”

  Staring at him, Sky realized Dax Brady was a good guy. How easy would it be for him to take advantage of young girls? She positioned another nail, then tapped it. “I’m impressed, quarterback.”

  He let out a low laugh. “Why?”

  “Because you have the talk down.”

  With a doubtful look, he moved back to his part of the room. “I had a good father. And I have a good mother.”

  “I had a good father, too,” she said, without really meaning to.

  Turning back, he hesitated, then got back to work.

  Another couple of hours passed before she got the nerve to talk to him again. “Hey,” she said, following him over to where he was hammering.

  He paused, glancing at her briefly as he pulled out a nail.

  “H-how is it going?” Dang it, why was she nervous?

  “Fine.” He cocked an eyebrow. “As you can see, I’m working.” He sounded a bit snippy.

  She stood about twelve inches away from him, remembering what she’d done the other night. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for slapping you the other day.”

  Slowly, he turned and faced her, giving her his full attention. His eyes narrowed, as if he was deciding whether to trust her or not. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

  She nodded. At least they agreed on that.

  There was something intense about this man’s gaze, the way he looked at her with that abrupt coolness. The edges of his lips turned up. “And I do accept your apology.”

  It sounded formal and, once again, a bit cocky. For some reason, it made her smile. “How come when you accept it I want to take it back?” She started hammering nails again.

  “Oh, is this the part of therapy where you want me to lie down and tell you a story about my childhood?”

  “If you lie down, you might find yourself accidentally falling, so I’d be careful.”

  He laughed. “Not a pacifist, I see.”

  “Accidents happen,” she said lightly.

  His smile widened. Her heart raced, and she reminded herself Dax Brady was her patient.

  Chapter 9

  After working all day and eating an amazing dinner prepared by Jorge’s mom, Dax stood on the veranda, watching the sunset. It felt good to be physical and work hard. Pounding nails suited him. If this was therapy, he’d gladly take it.

  He thought about Sky. She plowed through projects, taking direction from Ron and doing the assigned task like a pro. His attraction to her was becoming a familiar feeling. Dang, the woman was distracting.

  He grunted. Maybe that was a perk of the trip. Having several distractions from his life was a good thing right now. His body was tired, yet his mind was calm and clear. He felt good.

  His phone buzzed, and he saw a text from his mother. Please come to the Masquerade Ball on Friday. It would mean everything to me.

  Simultaneously, annoyance and guilt surged through him. He called his mother.

  “Hello,” she chirped.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “I’m so glad you called. I miss you.” Her voice was a bit shaky.

  “I miss you, too.”

  “Come to Denver.”

  Dax sighed. “Actually, I’m in Puerto Rico building houses right now.”

  “What?”

  He winced, knowing he should have told her sooner. “It’s … a complicated thing that I have to do for work.”

  “For the Titans?”

  Unable to stop himself, Dax let the whole story spill out: why he was here, how the owner of the Titans had entrusted his fate to Jon Kincaid, and why Sky was supposedly helping him. He found himself telling his mom all about Sky, even about their kiss and her father.

  “Well, son, it sounds like being in Puerto Rico might be for you—and maybe for this girl, too.” His mom always called the women he dated girls.

  “Maybe.” He grinned, then sighed. “How’s Ty?”

  “Good.” She sighed, too. “And all your brothers have been here. They are all trying to figure out ways to earn money to try to find a cure for ALS.”

  “That’s good.”

  “But they need you.” Before he could respond, she said, “I know you’ll come home when you can. Now, you be good, and I love you.”

  She’d clearly let him off the hook.

  “Love you too, Mom.” He pressed end and stared at the ocean, wishing for so many things.

  The sliding glass door opened behind him, and he heard Sky’s voice. “Hey, want to go to the beach with me?”

  Instantly, he was on edge. She’d wor
ked next to him all day, and he felt a bit nervous around her. When was the last time he’d been nervous around a woman? High school? For a second, he just focused on breathing as he stared at her pretty face and striking red hair.

  As if sensing his hesitation, she put her hands up, surrendering. “Not as your therapist. Just for fun.” She winked at him.

  He saw a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and he said, “Not a date, I’m assuming, ’cause you don’t date football players.”

  She gave him a stilted smile. “No, I don’t.”

  “Do you surf?”

  She grinned. “You’re speaking my language, Brady.”

  The way she said his last name—like they were on the same team, but also like she was flirting with him—made him feel lighter. Smiling, he pointed at her. “You swear no therapy talk?”

  “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye.”

  “Ha. Ha. I’ll get my suit.”

  Two hours later, he sat on the beach on top of the surfboard he’d rented and watched her surf a wave. She was good, and he admired that. True to their “no therapy” agreement, they’d only spoken like tourists on the way over, pointing things out and not talking about themselves. Then they’d surfed. By now, darkness had fallen, but the moon was bright.

  She strolled over to him, putting down the board he’d rented for her. “Can I sit?”

  He nodded. “You’re good.”

  She settled down, pulled out some waters, and offered him one.

  He took it, and they both guzzled.

  “Puerto Rico has the best surfing,” she said, gazing out at the ocean.

  “Agreed. I’ve actually never been here until this trip.”

  “I had never really thought about it before I came to help Jorge. Then I fell in love with this place and the people.”

  Considering what he’d seen of Jorge, Dax knew how easily that could happen.

  Silence reigned between them. Eventually, he decided to take the friend thing to the next level. “So what led you to coming here, exactly?” He knew there was some boyfriend. He’d heard that when he’d been in Jon Kincaid’s office that first day, but he didn’t know all of it.