by Taylor Hart
Any resistance to flipping the bird was now gone. Will turned it to Evan.
The men laughed.
Will gave a tense smile. “Seriously, guys. Think about it. How many hours do we spend memorizing plays?”
“None.” Dalton sputtered. “We know them all.”
Will pursed his lips, unamused. “How many hours have we spent in our whole football careers memorizing plays, analyzing plays, figuring out strategy?”
For a moment none of his friends spoke.
Evan threw up a hand. “Countless.”
Will punched a fist into the air. “Exactly.”
“Your point?” Dalton made a circling gesture with his hand.
“The point is we have brains full of strategy about football, but none when it comes to what matters.”
Evan looked doubtful. “We make a lot of money, bro.”
“Football is life, bud,” Dalton agreed.
“Just…” Will didn’t even know how to get his point across. “It’s Christmas week. And what are you guys doing?”
They hesitated, then Evan said, “Going back to Milwaukee.”
Dalton nodded. “I’m going to Port St. Austen to spend the week with my older brother.”
“Exactly.” Will gestured to both of them. “We’re grown men. I’m twenty-eight, you guys are twenty-seven, twenty-six. None of us have our own families.”
Leon stood. “There’s no reason to rush. I’m only twenty-five. I’m too young to die of marriage.”
Evan snorted. “I’m not sure which one of you is worse.”
Dalton gave a forced smile. “I can see your point, Will. I’ve been feeling…”
“Don’t do this, guys,” Evan protested.
Dalton lifted a finger into the air. “Hey, I’m not doing anything. Did you see my last break up? I bought a car for that woman and she still cheated on me.”
This admission fueled Will. “That is my point, we can complain all day about the women who are in our lives, but what about the ones we’ve lost?”
Neither Evan nor Dalton spoke for a few moments.
Will turned away from them. “Maybe I’m just feeling a bit lost after seeing the hope in my brother’s eyes, but … I want that.”
Evan cleared his throat. “And you think you could have had that?”
Will’s heart raced and he thought of Tara Lighthouse, the girl he’d thought he would marry from high school. “I had a first love.”
Evan snorted. “Is said first love available now?”
Feeling determination sweep through him, Will knew what he was going to do when he got out of here. “I’m looking her up when we finally get out.”
Dalton grunted. “Hmm.”
Evan turned to Dalton. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about someone special, too?”
Dalton shrugged. “I actually saw a social media post from this girl I was sweet on a long time ago the other day. Maybe I’ll look her up, too.”
Evan glared at Dalton, then back to Will. “And what do you think they’ll say? Hmm? If they’re even available, which they probably aren’t, they’re going to say—well, of course I want to go out with a professional football player, can you buy me a car?” He pointed the last comment at Dalton.
Dalton glared at him. “Oh, shut it, Evan.”
“I’m with Evan,” Leon said.
Will realized he probably couldn’t explain it to Evan. He was definitely a lost cause after everything the last girl put him through. Not to mention Leon.
“What?” Evan asked, looking defiant and ready to rumble.
Will tilted his head to the side. “Nothing.”
“Say it.” Evan stepped up to him.
An idea flashed into Will’s mind. He grinned. “What if…” he laughed. “What if we placed a bet?”
Evan looked confused. “What are you are talking about, Kent?”
Dalton looked wary. “My accountant hates it when I get involved in one of your bets, Kent.”
“You know how I feel about betting.” Chase rubbed his clean-shaven head.
Will laughed, thinking of the last time they’d had a guy’s night out. “No,” he said, excitement pulsing through him. “How about calling it a friendly Christmas week bet?”
Evan sputtered out a laugh. “You’re crazy.”
Dalton frowned.
“Interesting.” Chase leaned back against the cement wall, crossing his arms.
Will knew Evan could never refuse a bet.
Evan nudged him. “Fine, get on with it.”
Will grinned. “We’ll need some parameters.”
Dalton’s frown deepened. “Great, now we have ‘parameters.’”
Will snapped. “Find your first love or the woman who got away. They have to be single,” he said, ticking it off on his fingers. “You take them out on a date and kiss them by Christmas Eve.” He opened his hands like he had offered them a solution to their worst problem.
Evan outright laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. What if they’re not single?”
Will shrugged. “Then you find one who is.”
Dalton looked pensive, not responding yet.
“Love is like a stormy sea,” Chase began.
Will lifted his hands higher, like a master of ceremonies, cutting off Chase. “And the one who can’t do it or won’t complete it has to face Cameron Cruz.”
“No!” Evan kicked the ground and his face soured.
Leon shrugged.
Dalton let out a soft laugh at Evan’s antics.
“That’s worse than losing a bunch of money.” Chase leaned forward, making it obvious he was interested.
Will knew he had Dalton. Reaching out, he pushed his shoulder. “What do you say, Ruff? Are ya in?”
“No!” Evan protested, again.
Dalton laughed and shrugged. “Why not?”
Will laughed, too. “C’mon, Ev! Why not bet on first love? What do you have to lose?”
Evan gulped. “Have you ever heard of ‘kill the messenger,’ man? Were you paying attention during Shakespeare in high school English?”
Will moved to his side and gave him a little nudge. “C’mon, Ev, is the number one guy in sacks in the league gonna turn down a little competition?”
Evan rolled his eyes.
“Preach?” Will studied the running back but already knew he was in.
“God is love. Surely, he wants that for me. For all of us. I’m in.”
“Leon?” Will asked.
Leon smiled one of his Mona Lisa smiles—like he knew something they didn’t. “Sure. I can do that.”
Evan still shook his head.
Dalton cocked an eyebrow. “That’s fine. If Evan doesn’t want to bet, then he automatically gets to face Cameron by himself.”
Evan hesitated. “You guys are jerks.”
Dalton, Will, Leon, and Chase laughed.
“We know. Are you in?” Will pounded Evan on the back.
A guard came to the jail cell door. “You’re all sprung.”
“’Bout time,” Evan said through pinched lips.
Will grinned. “That’s a yes.”
The guard opened the door and they all filed out.
The team attorney was waiting for them. He had new phones and a scowl on his face. “I have Uber drivers out there to give you a ride wherever you want to go, as long as it’s straight home.” He let out a light laugh. “I feel bad for you guys when Mr. Cruz gets back.” He walked away.
The rest of them watched the attorney leave. Will turned to his friends and winked. “The bet stands. Have a good Christmas and may all your first loves come true.”
Evan made a barfing sound and stuck his finger down his throat. “I hate you, Kent.”
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The Risky Groom: Last Play Christmas Romances
The Christmas Spirit
Dalton Ruff admired the bright lights of Denver. They glittered by as he stared out the window into the night. The lan
dscape was different from the small-town sandy beaches and balmy weather that he’d grown up in, but between the snow and the Rocky Mountains, he’d fallen for it and he loved the state of Colorado he now called home.
One of his best friends and teammates on the Denver Storm, Chase sat beside him, his eyes closed, his head resting against the seat. Dalton shook his head mirthlessly, unsure whether Chase was sleeping or praying. Both sounded like great ideas. Dalton was tired. Exhausted really. And not just because he’d spent the last several hours in jail.
The past few years playing football had been a whirlwind, each day blurring into the next like the lights outside the car window. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it. He had. Football had saved him in more ways than one since his parents died. Without it, he shuddered to think where he might be instead. But he was eager to have the week off. Christmas was six days away and then he had to be back to check in with the team the day after that. It would be a nice opportunity to rejuvenate his mind and possibly his heart.
“Will you wake me up when we reach the hotel?” Dalton asked the driver.
“Sure thing, buddy.” The elderly gentleman with twin caterpillar eyebrows scrutinized him in the rear-view mirror.
“Thanks.” Dalton’s permanent residence was situated in an upscale suburb of Denver, more than a forty-five-minute drive from the town’s epicenter. Since he’d had the Christmas charity dinner for the Denver Children’s Hospital earlier that night and had to catch a flight to Florida early the next morning, he’d decided to stay at a hotel near the airport. Chase had done the same thing since he was flying out to Montana for Christmas.
“Preach,” his whispered, using the nickname the whole team had given Chase over the years since he’d been with the team. The running back murmured but didn’t respond.
It was better that way. Dalton had a lot to think about. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the chilly window. It felt amazing against his hot head. God, help me do some good, he prayed silently. He couldn’t help thinking about the trouble he and his friends had gotten into earlier in the evening. It’d started out great. He’d gone to the formal charity dinner with every intention of finding the most beautiful woman in the room and flirting with her the whole night. But then his best friend, Will Kent, the team’s quarterback had gotten into a verbal tussle with an irritating reporter. Dalton had gone to defend his friend and somehow, he and four of his friends, including Chase had wound up in jail.
Jail!
Not a great way to start his break. His role as wide receiver had been taking its toll—on his body and his mind. Time away from Denver and his teammates was exactly what he needed, and he was seriously excited. But when the team’s owner found out what had happened tonight, someone would pay. Dalton had no desire to be in the same room with Mr. Cruz when he was told what had happened… which brought his thoughts around to the bet.
Will Kent, the team’s quarterback, had suggested the friendly Christmas wager and the five of them agreed. The bet was simple. Find their first love or the girl that got away, ask her out on a date, and kiss her before Christmas. Loser had to tell Mr. Cruz what happened with the jerk Ken doll reporter and his cameraman.
At the thought of breaking the news to the owner, he winced.
Dalton refused to fail. That wasn’t an option.
The details of the bet sounded easy enough in theory. But, they weren’t. At least not for him. The love of his life was a woman named Lydia Landon. They met their freshman year of college, and as soon as he’d seen her jogging around the college track during his first football practice, he’d fallen head over heels. By the end of their sophomore year, they’d talked about marrying after graduation. Lydia was everything he wanted in a woman. She was beautiful, inside and out. Blond hair, creamy skin, and brown eyes that changed color according to how she was feeling. Her eyes were like mood rings. Sometimes they lit up with flecks of gold. Other times, when they were kissing, they would turn to caramel.
At thoughts of her, he gritted his teeth. She’d dumped him when he decided to go pro instead of finishing college. She hadn’t supported him and his dreams. Instead, she’d believed he would play his “little game” until school ended and then get a real job. A jolt of pain shot through his heart at the memory of their last fight before he left. It boiled down to one thing. She hadn’t believed in him.
Since that day, Dalton had spent most of his time focusing on the game that’d saved him from himself. He really believed football was life. Keeping his eye on the prize had served him well. Any down time was spent dating, clubbing, exercising, or tinkering with cars.
“We’re here,” the driver said.
“Thanks.” Dalton paid the driver, giving him a generous tip. “Merry Christmas.”
“Uh-huh.”
The night was chilly with a brisk bite in the air that nipped at the tips of his ears and his nose.
“Come on, man.” Dalton clapped Preach on the back as he stumbled tiredly out of the car.
They went through the hotel lobby, rode the elevator, and walked to their doors, which happened to be across the hall from each other, in silence. When Dalton had his door open, he turned to his teammate. “You’d best be thinking about what you’re going to say to Mr. Cruz because I’m winning this bet.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He had zero idea how he was going to win. Sure, he was flying to Florida and Lydia only lived two hours away from Port St. Austen, but could he really make the call? And what if she was married? That seemed highly probable. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like Lydia as his wife. She probably even had kids. That thought sent an ache through his heart. Was it worth it to him? Like the roar of a lion came a resounding, yes. He would find her. He just wasn’t sure where to start. But if she was available, he would find a way to win her back.
Preach chuckled. “Don’t be too sure, Ruff. I happen to know my girl is recently single and, if she’ll have me, I’m going to crawl back into her life and beg her to be my wife.”
Dalton studied his friend’s face. The man was determined. Without a doubt, he knew Preach meant what he said. “We’ll see, bro. Night.”
“Night. Have a good week.”
“You too.”
* * *
The flight from Denver to Florida had been turbulent, but thankfully it was over, and he was driving in his high-end rental car to his brother’s place. It wasn’t a long drive, about forty minutes, but it gave him time to come up with ideas on how to approach Lydia. Should he drive to Gainesville and demand she see him? Or contact her via social media? That seemed the easiest. At least then, if she was married, he wouldn’t have to see how happy she was, or the beautiful children she’d created with someone else.
And what if she was married? Then what? There wasn’t another woman he’d loved like her. He’d barely liked his last girlfriend, if he were being honest. Sure, he’d bought her a car, but that had been a last-ditch effort. A way to make something out of their relationship that wasn’t there. The fact that she’d cheated was a blessing, really, though her rejection still stung, especially since his teammates continually harassed him about it.
Dalton took the Port St. Austen exit. To his left was the ocean and his pulse immediately picked up. He was home! It would be good to see his brother Tristin again. It’d been a year since they’d met up in person, though they spoke on the phone once a week to discuss finances. Tristin was his accountant and Dalton was beyond grateful. He’d helped Dalton set up his retirement fund, invest his money wisely, and recently they’d discussed Dalton’s desire to start a nonprofit program, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted it to be yet. He knew most families didn’t have the kind of relationship he and Trist did, but then most families hadn’t gone through what he and his brother had. It still cracked him up that Tristin had changed his last name to Collins after Dalton started playing pro ball. It’d happened after Dalton won Offensive Player of the Year. Tristin had been engaged to his now-wife, but at the time she’
d nearly broken things off with him because of all the girls she had to contend with. Dalton liked to tease his brother that he was “hot by association.” Tristin hadn’t found it funny.
Up ahead and off to the side of the road, Dalton noticed a family standing beside an old car. The hood was popped, and smoke swirled out of it. The man was on the phone, pacing back and forth.
Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Dalton flipped on the blinker and pressed the breaks, slowing the oversized SUV. The mom noticed his car and rounded up her children like a hen gathering her chicks and gave his car a cautious glare. He didn’t blame her. The dad ended his call and stood in front of them in a warrior stance.
Dalton smiled as he rolled down the window. “Hey.” He spoke kindly, giving them a friendly I-am-not-a-serial-killer wave. At least that was what he hoped. “Can I lend a hand?”
The man took a step toward him and Dalton got out of his vehicle. “You know anything about cars?” the man asked.
“A little.” His smile grew. In truth, he knew a lot about cars. His father had been a mechanic and as a kid, he and his dad had spent hundreds of hours under the hood. Even now, tinkering with engines was his favorite pastime outside of football. “Want me to take a look?”
The man sighed heavily. “That would be great.” He shook his head. “I was driving. There was a noise and the car stopped. We pushed the car off the road, but…” He paused, shaking his head again. “I’m at a loss.”
Dalton followed the man over to the front of the car. “I’m Dalton Ruff,” he said, extending his hand.
“Eric Garvin.” The man shook his hand. “That’s my wife Isabel and our children, Ashton, Carla, and Evie.”
Dalton waved, hoping to ease their wariness. “Nice to meet you all.” Thankfully the weather in Florida was nothing like the weather in Denver. He’d gone from freezing temperatures there to the high sixties here. He took a deep breath, realizing how much he’d missed Florida weather. Beyond the smell of burning car fluids was the scent of the ocean. Later, he intended to take a run along the beach. There was something altogether amazing about running alongside crashing waves while birds squawked in the distance.
