The Midnight Groom (Last Play Christmas Romance Book 4)

by Taylor Hart

  Epilogue

  18 Months Later

  Isabel walked out of NYU’s Medical School after taking her last final. She was exhausted, but elated. It was over. It’d been a difficult year, but she’d done it, and she was pretty sure that she’d aced all of her exams, which was no small feat. The spring air hit her, and her phone buzzed. Pulling it out of her pocket, she was surprised to see a text from Cam.

  They’d sporadically texted all year, and it’d been hard because she still thought about all those moments they’d been together. She’d fallen in love with a man who could never love her back.

  When the Storm had won a championship game this past year, she’d texted him, and he’d texted her right back a bunch of happy emojis. Then, a couple of days later, he’d texted her quite a long response, thanking her and telling her about how he’d been going to non-mandated therapy and how it was helping. He’d mentioned a house in Castle Rock, a suburb of Denver. He’d asked her if she wanted to have dinner and see the house the next time she was in town.

  She’d texted him back and explained that she wouldn’t have a break from med school until the end of May. It’d surprised her, because they’d actually been texting a bit more regularly since then. Nothing serious, just little inside jokes about monkeys hitting you in the face or “catching a baby.” Just things only they would get.

  The text today had a random Hawaiian emoji and asked, I wonder how your boyfriend is doing?

  She laughed and sent back a salsa dancer.

  Can we have dinner? the next text asked.

  She stopped walking, already thinking of how to text him that she wasn’t coming back to Fort Collins for the summer. She was staying in New York.

  Before she could text him back, a limo pulled up to the curb, and the door opened. Cameron Cruz stepped out, wearing jeans, a button-down shirt, and that perfect facial hair.

  Her heart sped up like she was racing in the Indy 500. Dang, the man was larger than life and didn’t ever disappoint. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Automatically, she reached up to touch her hair, which she’d swept back in a bandana thing. She was wearing jeans and a plain blue Storm T-shirt—the same one he’d given her.

  “Nice T-shirt,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. If she were looking at him as a possible client, she would say the man was rested, happy, and excited about something.

  “Cam?” She was breathless. “What?”

  He strolled up to her and took her hand. “I’ve wanted to come for a while, but I didn’t want to distract you from school. I’m ready now.”

  She blinked, stupefied.

  He squeezed her hand and let out a long breath. “I mean, Persuasion, right?” He grinned. “That is, if you’re ready.”

  Overwhelmed, she couldn’t believe he was really here. She couldn’t believe that he was saying this.

  “Persuasion, Izz, remember?”

  She laughed and knew tears were misting her eyes. “I remember. Timing.”

  Then he was leaning in, and she met his lips. After a brief kiss, she looked into his eyes and saw that he not only was healed, but he might be …

  “I love you, Izz.” He blinked. “I fell in love with you clear back when I was in the middle of a bunch of crap, but now … I want you.”

  The center of her chest flooded with love and hope and everything she’d wanted way back then with him. “I love you, too.”

  He let out a light laugh. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  They kissed again, and a whole lifetime happened in that moment. A romance that could only happen with a billionaire, flying back and forth by private jet between New York and Denver. A proposal at the top of the Empire State Building when her sister and mother and Alicia and Craig and Jon and Paul were in town with him. A wedding in Storm Stadium that felt more like a movie. Delivering babies at Denver Hospital. Her own pregnancies—four kids, all boys, all little football players, and Cam proudly carting them to work at the stadium with him anytime she was on call.

  A life of pain, loss, grief, grace, and love. A life of everything together. And it was perfect.

  Available now!

  More Last Play Christmas Romances!

  The Betting Groom

  The Risky Groom

  The Haunted Groom

  The About Face Groom

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  The Betting Groom: Last Play Christmas Romances - Will’s story

  Will Kent, quarterback for the Denver Storm, looked around the Christmas charity event for Denver Memorial Children’s Hospital and asked himself, again, why he’d flown back from Maui early? Oh yeah, because he had to play cupid for his idiot younger brother and leave him to his old high school flame.

  Will pasted on a fake smile and scanned the room for his best friends and teammates, Dalton Ruff and Evan Cook. He’d texted them and they’d promised they would be here. The whole team was supposed to be here under mandate of the owner of the team, Cameron Cruz.

  Mr. Cruz had been in a bad mood since last Christmas when he’d tragically lost his wife, so nobody wanted to mess with him.

  The place was packed with all the who’s who in Denver’s high society and Will wasn’t in the mood to play nice with people he considered fake. He really wasn’t in the mood to answer questions about his shoulder, but the whole team had received pressure to attend and put on a good face for the media.

  At this point, with his injury, Will needed to show up and look tough. Image was everything and he needed to convince the world he was fine. Better than fine—ready to play.

  Putting a hand on the shoulder he’d injured, he gently massaged it, hating that it still ached at times. Especially when he was feeling stressed. Realizing what he was doing, he sucked in a breath and put his hand down. He began weaving through the sea of people. Dang, he just had to get through this event and then he’d go straight to San Diego to hang out with his brother, Zane, for Christmas week.

  The league took Christmas week off and Will wouldn’t lie, he was grateful.

  He saw a flicker of a hand and noticed Dalton waving at him from the front table. Of course the front. He bee-lined it for the table.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kent?”

  Carson Grim, the Ken doll of the sports reporting world, cut in front of him with his camera guy in tow. “Word had it that you would be out of town for this event tonight. What do you have to say about the rumor going around that Roman Young might come out of retirement next year and take your position as starting quarterback?”

  Completely blindsided by this information, Will stopped, stumbling before bracing himself on a chair nearby. “What?”

  “Mr. Kent?” Grim held the mic out to him. “What do you have to say about the possibility of being replaced?”

  Will had walked on as a free agent three years ago after serving his time in the Navy and he’d helped the Storm win the last two championships. For all intents and purposes, Cameron Cruz, the owner, and Roman Young were tight. This could happen if Will showed an ounce of weakness.

  Will rose up, staring into the camera and taking the mic from Grim’s hand. “Listen up, Storm fans, I promise you this—we might be down and out, but what happens when a storm is at its’ worst? Lighting explodes from the sky and pain is brought to the earth.” Adrenaline surged through him. “I’m stronger than ever and ready to face whatever anyone can throw at us.” He pointed into the camera. “I plan on playing next week against the Miami Surf and I promise you…I will bring the pain to Sam Dumont and the Surf.” He made an exploding motion with his hands. “Bam!”

  The reporter let out a sardonic laugh. “Pardon me, Mr. Kent, but you seem defensive.”

  Sharpened by the beady-eyed reporter’s words, Will felt his cool head slipping. Silence filled him. The same kind of sile
nce that used to fill him when he served on his ship before an impending attack. Putting on a media smile, he narrowed his eyes at Mr. Barbie doll himself. “You know, I would punch you out,” he said, turning to the camera and flashing a wider smile, “because, as I tell the ladies, my hands could be classified as deadly weapons.” He shrugged and tried to look modest. “The thing is, I wouldn’t want to damage that Ken doll jawline now, would I?” He rubbed his own jaw mockingly.

  Another rude laugh from the reporter. “Yes, good thing we don’t prosecute in this country for false threats.” He tapped Will’s shoulder. “I think we both know the real threat is that shoulder. I have a source who says you may not play the rest of the season.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Will thundered, forgetting his media calm. Forgetting his cool head. Forgetting the place was packed. He yanked back his fist. “You shut your face, Grim!”

  Satisfaction filled Grim’s face. He nodded like he was a cop and had just got the drug bust of the year.

  Out of the blue, Evan flanked his right side, pulling Will’s fist down. “Hold on there, Grim,” Evan said, giving a media smile of his own. “Tonight’s a night to raise money for the children, not for this. Let’s focus on why we’re here.” Evan hated the media and hated coming to these events, too.

  Dalton flanked Will’s other side. The wide receiver was fast and lean, taller than most wide receivers. Not to mention wicked smart and loved sparring with the media. He tsked his tongue. “I didn’t think they were allowing the scum into this party.”

  Chase Hawkins took up a position beside Dalton, crossing his arms. The running back was one of their older players, retiring after this season, but he was also tough as nails and always had Will’s back.

  Leon Reyes also appeared, in his perfectly cut tux with phone in hand. “Grim, my least favorite reporter. Back off, or I’ll sic all of my Twitter fans on you. They’ve been bored today.”

  Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Leon played amazing football—he was one of the best tight ends in the league—but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

  Grim smiled wider. “Keep talking because you’re all still on camera.”

  Evan let out a laugh. “I sure hope so,” he said, turning to Dalton. “What were you just telling me about that reporter you snapped pictures of after the Los Angeles game who was naked in the dressing room with Sheena Turner?”

  Grim’s face turned red and he cursed, turning to the cameraman. “We’re going to have to cut that last part.”

  Evan lifted his phone, and Will saw that he’d been recording. “Not going to make a difference. This will upload to Instagram the minute you roll any of this on TV or the internet.” He jerked his head toward Dalton. “Not to mention what’s on his phone.”

  “Oh, this is good,” Leon said as he typed madly.

  Grim looked, for lack of a better word…grim. Annoyance rippled across his face. He crossed his arms at the men in front of him. “Touché.”

  Dalton gave a mock salute. “Stay away, Grim, and no one gets the real footage of you and Sheena I got on my phone.”

  Grim cursed and nudged the camera guy away from them. “Let’s try over there.”

  Will was dumbfounded as Grim walked away and he laughed, turning to his friends, who laughed too. “I’m impressed, boys.”

  Before any of them could react, Grim was back, ripping Evan’s phone out of his hand.

  Grim’s cameraman easily lifted Dalton’s phone out of his hand, and ran.

  “Oh, he did not...” Evan cursed as he and Chase took off after Grim.

  Will started after the cameraman.

  Unfortunately, the camera guy threw the phone on the ground and stomped on it with his heel.

  Just before Will dropped his shoulder and plowed the guy to the ground, he saw Evan doing the same thing to Grim.

  Will rolled and Dalton was there, pouncing on top of the camera guy.

  The crowd was yelling. Will heard the instant sound of sirens.

  Pain flared through his shoulder and all he could think about was how he didn’t need this kind of press.

  * * *

  Will sat in a jail cell with Dalton, Evan, Leon, and Chase. It’d been ridiculous the way Grim and his cameraman had thrown accusations at them like they had been in the wrong. The lead cop had told Will they could come along quietly or he would cuff them. It was their choice.

  So they’d gone quietly, knowing Cameron Cruz was going to put them in a world of pain for the bad press coverage tonight. For the last two hours they’d each made their calls to their attorneys and yelled insults at Grim and the other guy in the other cell over.

  Now, they sat quietly.

  It’d gotten quiet once Grim and his cameraman had been sprung by their wives twenty minutes ago.

  The dread of what had just happened and what it could mean to his career swooped over Will. He cursed. “I’m already on Cameron’s bad list and now we have to add this to it.” He turned to Evan. “How long is Cameron supposed to be gone?”

  Evan sat up from the bench he’d been laying down on and sighed. “He’s with his sister’s family on some cruise until the day before we play the Surf. He had to get out of Dodge after throwing that reporter to the ground a couple of weeks ago.”

  They all fell silent. Cameron had been in a bad mental place the entire year. No one would dispute that losing his wife to a hit and run accident would be hard, but not being able to find the guy who did it, would be even worse. It’d left Cameron erratic and angry most of the time.

  Will shook his head. “I’m not going to be the one who talks to him first.”

  Standing next to the bars, Dalton turned to them. “Shouldn’t we be out by now?”

  An unnerving feeling had swept over Will and he stood from his seat on the cot. “Yeah, we should be out.” He moved next to Dalton. “It feels like we’ve been forgotten.”

  For a moment none of them spoke.

  Leon sat up and stretched. “I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t been forgotten.”

  Evan joined them at the bars. “Give it a rest, Leon.”

  Chase didn’t move. It was like he was in shock. The guy was known as the team preacher. Maybe he was praying for their souls.

  More silence. More waiting. More … thinking.

  Ever since Will had taken the plane back from Maui he’d been thinking about one thing. About one person. “Isn’t it funny that all of us called our attorneys for our one phone call?” Sad would be a better word, but he didn’t want to kick his guys while they were down.

  Evan frowned. “Who else do you call if you go to jail?”

  Dalton gave him a grudging nod. “Yeah, man, we gotta get out.”

  More silence.

  Will turned woodenly back to the bars. “I told you guys about my brother meeting up with a woman he hadn’t seen in ten years. A woman he never thought he’d see again.”

  Evan put his back to the bars. So did Dalton.

  “Yeah.” Dalton crossed his arms. “How is this going to get us out of here?”

  Will let out a soft laugh. “I…I’ve just been thinking about who that woman was for me, ya know?”

  Evan nudged him. “Wait, hold on,” he said, being sarcastic. “Is Will Kent actually waxing nostalgic about a woman?”

  “What about your ‘policy?’” Dalton air quoted.

  Will wasn’t proud of the fact his policy on dating this past year had been never to date the same woman twice. He haughtily tossed his head up. “Like you’re much better.”

  Dalton put his hands up. “Hey, you won’t find me thinking about the woman who got away.”

  Evan shuddered. “After what happened six months ago, I’ve steered clear of dating.”

  “As it says in the first chapter of Genesis, ‘a man… shall cleave unto his wife.’” Chase shook his head sadly. “Someday,” he added wistfully.

  Leon snorted. “Someday nothing. If you want something, go and get it.”


  Will thought for a moment and clenched his hand into a fist. “We’re pathetic, ya know?”

  Evan frowned. “Speak for yourself.”

  Will shook his head, then an erratic laugh escaped. “So pathetic!”

  Dalton nudged him. “Dude, stop.”

  Unable to stop, he pulled away from the bars and turned to face them. “Look at us. We’re pro football players stuck in jail the week before Christmas and no one has come for us!”

  Evan rolled his eyes. “Our attorneys are probably still at the charity event.”

  Dalton pushed him in the shoulder. “True. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s not?” Will had abruptly turned angry. He gestured to the lock on the cell door. “Grim and his idiot got sprung by their wives.”

  “So what?” Evan shrugged. “Who cares about them?”

  Will bowed his head and that lost feeling, the one he’d felt the whole plane ride back to Denver increased one hundred fold. “It’s about so much more.”

  His friends just stared at him.

  “And people say I’m unstable,” Leon said.

  “You look like you’re on the verge of a breakdown, dude. Knock it off.” Evan crossed his arms.

  Will put his hand up. “I’m just…” he trailed. “Aren’t you just…” he started, but couldn’t get the words out.

  “What?” Dalton pushed away from the bars and threw up his hands. “Just say what you need to say.”

  “I’m done with it.” Will said, feeling certain.

  His friends gave each other worried looks, then turned back to him.

  “What, exactly, are you done with?” Evan asked.

  Will put laser-like focus on them. “All the women.”

  Dalton frowned. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound good.”

  Will resisted the urge to flip him off. “I just want one. The right one.”

  “True that, brother.” Chase snorted, putting his head in his hands.

  Evan laughed. “I don’t think you hurt your shoulder. I think it was your head.”