Swooning over the Football Billionaire Groom (Sweet, Christian Football Bad Boy Romance Series Book 1)

by Ellie Hall

  She stepped into the rain. She had to know whether she’d fallen in love with the man she thought he was or someone else.

  A foghorn blew mournfully in the distance.

  “What happened?” she asked. “What was that woman talking about?”

  “That was Cole’s mother.”

  “Mrs. O’Malley? I thought you’d already seen her.”

  “I was going to, but I chickened out. I’m sorry I let you think otherwise, but visiting her and being back here was what I meant about stepping back into the past when I’d originally tried to convince you not to come.”

  “She said you were a murderer.”

  He nodded as the rain caught in his hair and turned his black suit darker.

  She gasped and stepped back.

  “That was why I couldn’t bear to listen to her message.”

  “You owe me an explanation. Please give me an explanation.” Her voice turned pleading. What was happening?

  Declan’s eyes lifted to meet hers. “When I was fifteen, sixteen, I fell in love with Cole’s sister, Siobhan. We were mad for each other. Cole had already turned to drugs and looking back, I think we were there to support each other. We both knew him before. You know?”

  She understood what he meant, but her breath had caught. How could he do such a thing?

  Declan gazed out to the harbor as though he couldn’t bear her judgment. “Have you ever heard the quote, ‘A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. I understand that I can’t rightfully keep the truth from you. You’ll find out someday anyway. If I was a boat, I’d have to go bravely into choppy and uncharted waters.” He gazed up to the rain pouring down. “I’ve only ever told Aunt Sheila the story. It had broken me to speak the truth aloud. It pains me still, but I know I have to take the risk and tell you what had happened all those years ago even if that means you’ll sail out of my life.”

  She braced herself. Her mind emptied and she just listened.

  Declan drew a deep breath. “One day, Cole was bad; as high as a kite. He was out of his mind, acting belligerent, dangerous. Siobhan called me to help calm him down. Their mother was at work. Siobhan snuck me into the house. First, I found his drugs and disposed of them. But Cole caught me and lunged at me with a kitchen knife. Siobhan must’ve been watching from the hall because before I could stop her, she launched herself between us. It happened so fast. He stabbed her. It was all my fault.” Rain or tears tracked down Declan’s face.

  I called the Garda, an ambulance. She passed away on the way to the hospital. I was distraught. Cole confessed to doing it and went to jail. But he blamed me—had I not thrown out the drugs and had I not been there, it wouldn’t have happened. I think he soured his mother on me too. Once, she’d been like a mother to me.

  “I’m so sorry.” Maggie couldn’t imagine the pain, the burden.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just—”

  “Painful.”

  He nodded and squeezed her hand. “I can’t—” He turned on the path and hurried to the townhome.

  Maggie could hardly process what Declan had told her but could see the weight of it that pressed down on his shoulders as he disappeared into the house, slamming the door.

  She didn’t want to let him go but knew that if she went after him, he’d turn her away. There was no hiding the tremor in her voice. Reaching for the door handle to the car, she whispered, “Goodbye, Declan.”

  After checking into a hotel in the city proper, Maggie found that her parents had called, but hadn’t left a message.

  She collapsed on the bed and quickly filed her final report as Declan’s coach. Likely, she lost her job but wanted him to get the credit he deserved. He’d done well practicing etiquette. In fact, after leaving Blancbourg, she hardly had to teach him a thing. She imagined he was the kind of kid who’d rebelled when in the confines of school. However, he’d flourished with her. The thought led her to wonder about the vengeful woman, Cole’s mother, who’d confronted him at the cemetery. What was she talking about, selling his story to the media?

  Realization dawned. Maggie’s parents. Her terrible, horrible, evil parents. She was about to punch call on her phone when she got a message. Likely, they’d called her earlier to gloat and were texting now to really rub it in. They probably resented that she’d rejected their lifestyle and them.

  Maggie snorted. She should’ve known.

  However, the message was from Haleigh. It was simply an emoji with a surprised face. Then a link to the VJ Media website. Squishing up her eyes, she didn’t want to click it but had to see for herself the damage her parents had done.

  Chapter 14

  Declan

  Maggie already had her reasons for not wanting to be with Declan, but he knew that once she’d heard the full story of Siobhan and Cole, she’d leave. No one ever stayed in his life. Not if he was really himself. He was the lowly lad Mrs. O’Malley had described. He should’ve known better than to fall for someone as true as Maggie.

  She deserved better than him anyway. He was born a loser and would always be one. Losers like him were destined to be alone. Maggie wasn’t a nobody. She was amazing, beautiful, and so kind. She’d held him steady during his return to Dublin, their stay, and his aunt’s passing. She knew just when to squeeze his hand, when to pray, and when to listen.

  Wallowing in misery, he’d gone through exactly five bags of Taytos cheese and onion crisps. He would’ve liked ice cream and cake too, but didn’t have the energy to go to the market.

  When he’d discovered they’d switched phones again, he made sure that her parents listened for once. He first had his manager contact them under the guise that he wanted an exclusive interview. They jumped at the bait and called back immediately, hungry for a scoop. He gave them one and an earful about being better to their daughter. He also told them the entire story about Cole and Siobhan. They’d already known, thanks to Mrs. O’Malley, but he added details and clarified things. Having learned from the best coach in the NFL, he gave them an ultimatum.

  They either aired his side of the story and keep their daughter out of it or he’d take them to court for slander. After digging through their website, it wouldn’t only be his lawyers going after them, but he’d convince the other guys on the team to do the same.

  Additionally, if VJ Media did the right thing, he’d pledge a large sum to a charity of their choice. He hoped that would pave the way for them reporting on more positive celebrity news rather than scandals. Unlikely, but he’d used whatever influence he could.

  He hadn’t broken the rules of the playbook. He’d fallen for Maggie. He only had eyes for her and counted himself lucky that he’d had a second chance to be in love even if it was short-lived. If he’d had the opportunity, he’d have asked her to marry him.

  When he’d had her phone, she’d received a call from Xavier. The name was familiar and he’d realized that was the guy who’d betrayed her and took off with the mobile cupcake van she’d invested her savings in, dashing her dreams. He considered giving the dude a piece of his mind, but that wasn’t his business and he didn’t want to overstep any other bounds. Maybe they’d been in touch and were rekindling things. It wasn’t for him to say. She deserved to be happy and Declan doubted he could ever do that for her—not with the damage from the past that he still carried with him.

  After learning about what happened with Cole and Siobhan, he was certain that Maggie wouldn’t be able to forgive him. It was true that Cole would never forgive Declan for what had happened with his sister. However, the worst part was Declan couldn’t forgive himself. Cole was right. He should’ve done something differently during that dreadful summer day—anything, but especially acting faster to move Siobhan out of the way. He’d never understood why she’d come between them. He wished it had been him who’d taken the blow. She should have lived and he shouldn’t have.

  For several days, a faint pain had ached in his chest, but right then it was like a stab wound. He
gripped his heart and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his gaze landed on a photo of Aunt Sheila that he’d had on display at the wake. She stood in front of a cathedral in Rome during one of her many travels. His breath caught. It was like she was reminding him of what she’d been saying for years about forgiveness.

  He took it as a sign.

  Declan called a car and had the driver bring him directly to the local church. It was quiet since it was outside service times. He knelt in a pew. First, he prayed for a second chance with Maggie, but when he quieted his mind and let God speak to him, he knew that in order to move ahead with his life, he had to forgive himself. He wasn’t sure if the directive, “If you forgive others their transgressions, your heavenly Father will forgive you” (Mt 6:14), included forgiving himself, but he’d sure as heck try. He had to reconcile. His aunt had been telling him to be a big, brave man and forgive himself, but if he did would that mean he’d stop regretting what happened? Stop loving Siobhan? If he forgave himself, was he then suggesting that what had happened was okay?

  The answer came to him in a heartbeat. No. Forgiveness didn’t mean that he’d ever forget. It meant he’d remember Siobhan always but without the cloud of hurt. He’d let God be the judge. Declan had room for love from the past, present, and future. And the future he longed for was with Maggie and a family of his own. Was that crazy?

  He’d somehow escaped the streets and had created a life for himself. He wasn’t proud of all of the things he’d done along the way, but he wanted to make Maggie proud of him. He said another prayer, asking for forgiveness for moon-gate too. Just in case.

  As he sat back in the pew, all the loneliness that he’d ever felt dissipated and was replaced with the loving presence of his Savior. The pain in Declan’s chest subsided and he took a deep breath of the wax-scented air.

  Before leaving, he lit a candle for Siobhan, Cole, and Aunt Sheila. He wasn’t sure what was next, but he felt like the past was finally at rest.

  Back home, Declan tried to call Maggie and when she didn’t answer, he texted her. First, he apologized for not telling her everything. Then he explained why, confessing his fears, his hurts, and his deepest wounds—that he wasn’t good enough for her. He hoped she didn’t pay any heed to Mrs. O’Malley’s words.

  Days passed. No reply.

  The ache in his chest returned.

  He hardly left the townhome in Howth, not even to go to the gym.

  One afternoon, Coach Hammer’s name appeared on the screen of his phone with an incoming call. “We have you on the schedule for next week. Have you been keeping up with your workouts? Wolf has been doing ballet. What do you have to say for yourself?” Hammer snickered.

  Declan glanced at the empty packets of crisps. “No, I haven’t.” His voice was rusty from lack of use.

  “What do you mean?” Hammer tore into him, hollering and scolding him.

  “Why would I bother?” Declan asked.

  “Because you’re the wide receiver for the Boston Bruisers. The greatest team in history.”

  “I’m pretty sure you meant to dial Fatechi.”

  “Am I talking to Declan Woods right now, because if so, let me set things straight. Maggie Byrne called me shortly before your aunt’s funeral and explained the situation. She confessed that she had a thing for you—don’t get big-headed about that—and tried to put distance between you two so you didn’t get kicked off the team and lose your spot to Fatechi.”

  “Maggie called you?” he asked at the same time he realized she must have switched their phones on purpose. The day before, he’d received a call from an airline, asking him if he’d review his recent flight to Florida. She must’ve used his phone to get a ticket too.

  “I had zero sense you put her up to that. I think there’s a haters club consisting of women who’d prefer to burn you, son. That Blair woman, for instance.”

  And Tess, Kate, Candi, Brandi...all of the women he’d wooed and then ditched.

  “Also, I read the reviews from Blancbourg. I looked into the timestamps of the various photos. They’re legit. To anyone with half a brain, the whole thing was spun for the lead on the infamous football player. You haven’t done yourself too many favors with the media lately, but that exposé on your past—I’ve had literary agents calling the training center asking if you want a book deal. That’s a story of perseverance. Why didn’t you ever tell me where you came from and what you’d been through?”

  Declan was nearly out of breath, keeping up with everything the coach had told him. He’d gone from feeling like giving up and boarding his yacht for parts unknown to coming back to life.

  “You there?” Hammer asked.

  “Yeah. I’m, just, stunned. I thought it was over.”

  “You know what we say on this team. It ain’t over until we’ve won. We’re resilient, fighters. The name Boston Bruiser’s isn’t for nothin’, son. We might get beaten down, covered in bruises, but we always get back up.”

  “You’re right, Coach,” Declan said, feeling his strength returning.

  “Ah, those words are music to my ears. Never thought I’d hear them from you though.” He chuckled. “Now, unstun yourself and get back on track. I want two-a-days. You got that? One workout in the morning. One in the afternoon or evening. These are going to be hardcore workouts, lifting, and stamina.”

  “You got it,” Declan answered, rising to his feet.

  “When is the soonest you can get to LA? I reckon pretty quickly given that jet of yours.”

  “I’ll be there in under forty-eight hours. First, I have to make a pitstop in Florida.”

  He realized that omitting the extent of his life story from Maggie and not going after her was as bad as fumbling the ball in the last seconds of the fourth quarter. No, worse. He was about to run upstairs and pack when he grabbed the photo of his aunt.

  It was like her voice was in his head. Tell her the truth.

  “I did,” he whispered.

  The other one.

  He’d been an idiot, that was for sure and had to fix things if only it wasn’t too late. Like Coach had said, he was a Boston Bruiser, but before that, he was a survivor. He’d been knocked down, but always got back up. Now, it was time to fight for love.

  Chapter 15

  Maggie

  Returning to Florida felt like a step backward. Maggie hadn’t heard from Katerina and was sure she’d lost her job at Blancbourg. She’d have liked to explore Concordia. Maybe there would even be an opportunity to work at a bakery or open one of her own.

  She’d seen that Xavier had called too. He’d also texted, asking if they could talk, try again. That ship, er, van had sped out of the parking lot and her life in a cloud of dust, heartache, and financial woe. But aside from her payment from her now-defunct coaching job, she needed cash. Reluctantly, she agreed to meet him at what had been her favorite bakery in Orlando, hoping by some stroke of good fortune he’d found a decent bone in his body and decided to pay her back.

  Haleigh dropped her off before heading to work.

  “I hope you get your set of wheels back,” Haleigh said.

  “Unlikely. I’ll just take the bus back to your place. Thanks again for everything.”

  “You can call Nadia to pick you up. I think she’s covering the dinner shift later so she’s probably free. Still dating the football player and still working at the restaurant.” Haleigh snorted. “Call me old fashioned, but I’d have him set me up for life.”

  In her deepest, most secret daydreams, Maggie had thought about a future with Declan and marriage. Of course, she’d now never be Mrs. Woods but had the opportunity arisen, she’d keep a job—for more than a year. She felt like it was important for her to have her own thing.

  But what was that?

  Cupcakes and baking. That was her thing. She loved them.

  But there were bakeries everywhere. That was why she’d had the clever idea to have a mobile bakery. She glanced up and down the street, wondering if Xavier had finally de
cided to return what was hers. Just a few work trucks, a sedan, and an economy car filled the parking spaces.

  Stepping inside the bakery, the sweet scent brought the first smile to her lips that she’d felt in ages. The display case was filled with row after row of cupcakes, pies, cookies, cakes, tarts, and more.

  “What can I get for you?” the salesgirl asked.

  Maggie straightened. “I’d love a cupcake, but—” She glanced around, wondering if Xavier was already seated. Drawn in by the delicacies in the bakery, she’d nearly forgotten what brought her there in the first place.

  “Yes, I’d like one of those.” She pointed to a pink velvet cupcake with buttercream icing and rose gold sprinkles.

  The salesgirl rang her up. “That will be—”

  Someone slid beside Maggie and held out a bill. “I’ve got it. My treat.” He belched and then said, “Excuse me.”

  The salesgirl wrinkled her nose.

  Maggie turned sharply to find Xavier standing beside her. His hair was longer than she remembered and he needed to shave. His offer to pay for her cupcake aside, he could stand to attend Blancbourg for a month.

  “Hey, Maggie,” he said. He swooped in to give her a kiss, but she backed away.

  “Hi.” She felt a deep furrow form across her brow. Nonetheless, she found an empty table and sat down. What had she ever seen in him?

  He grabbed a chair and spun it around, sitting backward on it. He had a baseball cap on as well and had spun it around so the bill was in the back. Without needing to see the logo on the other side, she knew it was Boston Bruiser’s football merchandise given the black and blue design.

  “So, Maggie, Maggie, oh, my Maggie,” he said. “It’s been so long. Where have you been? What have you been up to?”

  She took a bite of the cupcake, thinking about how to explain. It had a slight strawberry flavor that complimented the vanilla buttercream, reminding her of strawberry shortcake—a fitting summer treat.