The Athletic Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers

by Lucy McConnell

  Whatever had taken place had released much of the tension between them all. That, and the boys’ continual joking. Isaac filled his plate.

  “Dad, this is Zander, Zeek’s cousin.” Logan introduced his new friend.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wolfe.” Zander wore a striped polo shirt and had curly hair to his chin. There was an innocence of youth about his features that his cousin had grown out of, but there were enough similarities to see the family resemblance.

  Isaac smiled. “You too.”

  “Zander goes to the charter school and showed me around this afternoon.”

  Isaac perked up. “Charter school? I thought you wanted to go to the public school?”

  Logan tucked his elbows close to his body. “We went there.”

  “And?” Harper prompted.

  Logan shrugged and kept his head down.

  A war began inside of Isaac. On the one side was his need for answers. What about the school made Logan so uncomfortable? Did he regret leaving behind his friends? Did he resent Isaac for taking this job? On the other side fought the desire to not embarrass his kid in front of his new friend and family.

  Zeek picked up where Logan didn’t start. “The staff was busy and we didn’t get much time to ask questions.”

  Logan nodded. Isaac tore off a piece of pizza with his teeth and his mouth exploded with the flavor of pepperoni, ham, spicy sausage, and several cheeses. “Holy cow, this is good.”

  Harper turned her chin his direction, looking over her shoulder, her long blonde hair cascading down her back. He swiped at his face with his napkin to make sure his mouth wasn’t hanging open.

  “Danny is a genius. You should try the fruit one.”

  He scooped up a piece without thinking about it. “Whose idea was it to go to the charter school?”

  “Mine,” Zeek volunteered. “Zander is in the same grade as Logan and he really likes it.”

  Zander nodded, swallowing a huge bite without blinking. “Yeah. The uniforms aren’t cool, but the kids are great and the teachers aren’t bad.”

  “I brought the student and parent contracts for you to look over, Dad. They’re in my bag.”

  “Sounds good.” Like walking into the billionaire house, picking a new school for Logan was out of his realm of expertise. A charter school hadn’t even been on Isaac’s radar. However, having a built-in friend on the first day would make the transition that much easier. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

  Seth had been quiet throughout the exchange, but in the lull, he asked, “What is there to do for fun around here?”

  All three boys broke into grins. “Go-cart racing,” said Logan.

  Isaac laughed at the image of these three zooming around a track, egging one another on. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, I can’t wait to take you guys.” Logan looked back and forth between him and Harper. Warning bells went off in Isaac’s head. The kid was taking this marriage thing seriously, already referring to the two of them as if they were a package deal.

  Harper stiffened next to him. Was she thrown off by the idea as much as he was, or was she offended to be lumped in with him? Isaac wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not.

  “Zander bounced off every wall.” Logan shoved Zander’s shoulder.

  Zander guffawed. “At least I didn’t forget to press the pedal when that blonde drove by.”

  Logan’s cheeks dusted pink.

  Zeek laughed. “You both are hopeless.”

  Harper set her napkin on her plate. “Remind me not to loan you my car.” She nodded to Logan.

  “I seem to remember a Ford Taurus that didn’t last past your first month of driving.” Seth winked at Harper.

  “Some lessons have to be learned the hard way.” She took his teasing good-naturedly, though there was an edge to her tone telling Seth to back off.

  “Let’s hope you don’t repeat your mistakes.” Seth’s eyes cut to Isaac for the briefest of moments.

  Isaac’s blood pressure skyrocketed. It had been a long day of Jackson Kimber pushing his buttons, Blake Rygs behaving inappropriately in the PT room, Harper laying down the law, and Zeek taking his place in Logan’s life. Okay, maybe Zeek wasn’t taking over, but Isaac didn’t like being the one on the outside of what was going on in Logan’s life. And he had had enough. Looking Seth in the eye, he said, “I assure you, despite what my birth mother may have thought, I am not a mistake.”

  Seth’s chin jerked back.

  “I think we’re done here.” Harper scooted her chair in an effort to stand.

  Isaac pulled her chair back so she could step out. She glanced up at him, and he caught an interest in her eyes before she ducked behind her hair. “Thanks,” she whispered, the faint scent of flowers tickling his senses.

  “My pleasure.” Isaac so badly wanted to touch her. To take her arm and guide her from the room, maybe find out exactly where they were and what this thing ping-ponging between them was, but something in her posture told him that would be a bad idea. They’d shared a closeness this morning that was now gone. He hadn’t done anything to dispel that trust. The only thing that changed was her brother’s arrival. He glared at Seth.

  “We’ve got to get going too.” Zeek and Zander got to their feet.

  “It was nice to meet you all,” added Zander.

  “You too.” Isaac smiled.

  “You’re welcome here anytime,” added Harper.

  Isaac sent her a grateful look. He’d wanted to encourage Logan to have people over but didn’t feel like he could, seeing as how he was a guest as well.

  “I’ll walk you guys out.” Logan showed them the way, leaving the adults behind.

  “I’m going to crash—it’s been a long day.” Seth looked pointedly at Isaac.

  Isaac rolled his eyes. Yes, it was childish, but so was this guy’s comment. Harper sighed heavily as Seth walked out. She took in the table before stacking dishes.

  “I thought you had emails to send?”

  “I do, but I’ve been sitting too much today.”

  Isaac followed her lead, heading into the kitchen with a stack of his own. “Am I really that bad?” he joked. “I mean, I shower at least once a day, I pay my taxes, and I don’t carouse with the ladies.”

  Harper quirked an eyebrow. “Carouse? Were you much of a carouser in your younger years?”

  Isaac shook his head. “Nope. I was always a one-woman kind of guy.”

  The plates clattered into the sink, making more noise than Logan and his friends. Harper cringed. “Sorry, they slipped.”

  Setting his stack on the counter next to the sink, Isaac shrugged. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who finds washing dishes by hand soothing.”

  Harper laughed. “Hardly. I’m all about modern conveniences.” She lowered the door to the dishwasher and began loading the plates in the bottom.

  Isaac dumped leftover drinks down the sink. “So what mistake did you learn the hard way?”

  Harper’s hands slowed. “To check my blind spot. I sideswiped a truck. Thankfully it was a 1967 Ford and the only damage was scraped paint, but my car was trashed.”

  “Not that mistake. The other one Seth was referring to.” He really hoped it wasn’t another guy. For some reason, the thought of Harper with anyone but him turned his thoughts green with envy. He hated the idea of her kissing some fool.

  The bottom rack of the dishwasher slid in easily and Harper pulled out the top one. She pressed her lips together before saying, “I dated someone who wasn’t good for me. It was a whirlwind romance—” A self-depreciative sound escaped her lips. “Minus the romance. One of those too-good-to-be-true things that really was.” She lifted a shoulder slightly, as if the pain still weighed her down and she couldn’t go any higher.

  He couldn’t stop himself from covering her hand with his, much like he’d done this morning in her office. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

  Her eyes stayed low. “He showed me how imp
ortant honesty and loyalty are to me. I mean, I always said they were important, but without them, there’s nothing.”

  Seth couldn’t have said it better himself. He’d learned those same lessons from his ex and they’d kept him out of the dating and marriage game for far too long. Harper not only made him want to be a husband, but to be her husband. He’d said the words in Pamela’s office, but he wanted to let her know he meant them. “Harper, I—”

  “Don’t.” She pulled her hand away. “Don’t say another word.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if you say it and mean it, then it means something, and if it means something, then we’re not focusing on what’s really important here.”

  He read the panic in her eyes. She felt the same stirrings between them that he felt and she was scared. Heck, he was scared too. He hadn’t felt the attraction and distraction of a woman in so long. Maybe she was right. Maybe changing the focus of their situation wasn’t a good idea. “The team.”

  She nodded. “The team.”

  He took a step back. “I’ll email you the list of applicants for the psychologist position.”

  “I’ll look at them tonight.”

  “Good night, then.” Isaac wasn’t going to set foot outside his suite if he could help it. Morning would be soon enough to see Harper. Limiting his exposure to her would be the best way to keep his thoughts focused. Although, focusing on a locker room full of guys was not nearly as fun as thinking about the blonde beauty sleeping across the hall.

  12

  Saturday afternoon was the beginning of the Redrocks versus Seattle series—the best way to start off a weekend, at least the way Isaac saw it. He checked the time before heading down to the locker room to put on his uniform.

  He cocked a grin. His uniform. If there was anything more satisfying, more studdifying, than putting on a uniform with your name across the back, Isaac hadn’t found it. Riding his Harley was a close second. The chrome. The leather. The low rumble as the engine came to life. He wanted to pound his chest just thinking about it.

  Logan had opted to attend the charter school, saying he felt more comfortable there than he did at the public school. Isaac was able to attend an orientation with the principal. He liked the limited class sizes and workload as well as the focus on science and computer programming Logan elected when he chose his classes. There wasn’t much of a sports program, but his kid had never been one to join a team, despite his natural athleticism. Some guys may have pushed their child to follow in their footsteps, but Isaac couldn’t see himself making an issue out of it. If Logan had wanted to play, he would have done everything in his power to encourage and advance his opportunities. But Logan was his own person, had been since day one.

  That was why he stopped at Harper’s office door before taking the elevator to the lower level and rapped on the frame. He’d been wrong about something and wrong in the way he handled the situation.

  Harper lifted her dark eyes from her computer screen.

  “Are you going to watch the game?” he asked.

  “I’ve got a live feed.” She nodded towards the television hanging on the wall opposite her desk.

  “That’s un-American!” He covered his chest with a fist as if she’d wounded him. “You’ve got the whole field right there.” He spread his hands wide, indicating the stadium framed by her giant window.

  Harper shook her head. “If I get caught up on my work, then I’ll head down to the box.”

  He grunted.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “No box?”

  “You can’t even smell the popcorn.”

  Shaking her head, she laughed. He wished he could grab up the sound and save it for later. Shaking himself, he said, “I wanted to say thank you for hiring Zeek. He did a great job getting Logan registered for school and he made the move easier for both of us.”

  Harper bit her lip. “I’m glad it’s all worked out.”

  “You’re not going to say ‘I told you so’?” he teased.

  “I may ask Danny to make crow for dinner.”

  “Mmm. Crow.” He rubbed his belly and licked his lips.

  “So you’ve had it before?”

  “Several times.”

  Harper smiled and shook her head. “Go on.” She shooed him away. “Or you’ll miss the first pitch.”

  He gave her a mock salute before sauntering out the door. Feeling bigger, more confident than he had before setting foot in her office, Isaac made his way down to the locker room. The time before a game was one of his favorite times—the anticipation, the adrenaline, the goofing with your fellow players. Most guys had a routine—baseball was a sport full of superstition. You had to put the left sock on first or you’d strike out. Or, you couldn’t put your ball hat on until you stepped into the dugout.

  And pranks. Just because a man turned thirty didn’t mean he stopped filling his buddy’s shoes with shaving cream or dumping a bucket of ice water on them in the shower. Of course, most guys saved the fun and games for after a win.

  Thankfully, the hallway to the locker room was empty. The press was already up in the press box. Tommy Stouvier in particular had given him quite the shakedown in print. It was the same guy who hounded Harper and had been hauled out of the stadium during practice. For the life of him, Isaac couldn’t figure out what had crawled into that guy’s cleats.

  He said hello to a few of the guys before spotting Brian Tuttle with his shoulders slumped and his head between his knees. If he was experiencing pregame jitters, it was the worst case Isaac had seen since coaching high school ball. The rest of the team was already halfway into their uniforms, but Brian had on his street clothes. He leaned back and threw a pair of balled socks into the locker with a grunt.

  Okay, not jitters.

  No one paid the outfielder any attention, probably since he was sending off major leave-me-alone vibes. Isaac made his way to the corner and sat down on the bench facing the opposite direction. “Hey, Tuttle. How’s it going?”

  “Fine.”

  Isaac took in Brian’s wrinkled shirt and the stain on his pants. “Good. Good. You ready to play?”

  “Yep.”

  “Really?” Isaac nodded to the tie still knotted at Brian’s throat.

  “Oh.” Brian slid it off, bunched it up, and sent it to join the socks. He undid a few buttons, staring at nothing while his mind was elsewhere.

  “Something going on?” Isaac prompted.

  Brian reached into his gear bag and pulled out a pile of papers clipped together. “My wife handed me this right before I left this morning.”

  The word DIVORCE popped off the page.

  Isaac swore under his breath. “I’m sorry.” He put his hand on Brian’s shoulder. “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” Brian wiped his hand down his tan beard but it didn’t do much to focus his eyes nor his mind.

  “Do you have any kids?”

  “Two.” It was Brian’s turn to swear as he threw the stack of papers on the bench next to him. “This is going to mess them up.”

  “It can, but there’s a lot you can do to make it better for them,” Isaac offered.

  Just then, Jackson Kimber passed by, headed towards the giant mirror over the sinks in the shower area. His phone blared a T-Swift song and he was singing right along in a falsetto voice. His grooming kit hit the divorce papers, sending them to the floor.

  Brian and Jackson reached for them at the same time. Jackson got them first, glanced down, and then back to Brian. “These yours?” he asked.

  Brian gulped back the pain and nodded.

  “Dude—you’re free.” He offered a fist bump, which Brian stared at incredulously.

  Isaac bit his tongue.

  Jackson let his hand drop. “It’s all good, man. You’re in shock. What you need is a good time. We’ll head out after the game tonight, party it up Vegas style.” He played an air guitar.

  “I don’t …” Brian’s chin dropped. “What do you think?” he asked Isaa
c.

  “You might want to wait until things are final.” He tapped the paperwork.

  Jackson bobbed his head. “You don’t want to give the hag a reason to ask for more money—I get it.”

  Pretty sure you don’t. Isaac gave Jackson a shut-up stare.

  “Just let me know when you’re ready, because I am always up for a part-ay.” Jackson glanced at Isaac before walking away.

  What a—

  “This is killing me.” Brian closed his eyes. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  Isaac grabbed his shoulder again, hoping to be that lifeline that would hold Brian steady for the next few minutes. “Just take it one hour at a time. Then a day at a time, then a couple days. Don’t try and jump over all this—it’s something you have to slog through.”

  “You were divorced?”

  “Yep.” Isaac squeezed Brian’s shoulder. “I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t.”

  “Yeah.” Brian nodded. “How’d you get through?”

  “Baseball, my friend. The love of the game. The fans. The field, the grass, the dirt on my face—they were the only things that felt real to me—the only time I could come alive and not feel the pain.”

  Brian swallowed hard—as if he were ingesting Isaac’s words.

  “Listen, baseball isn’t for the weak of mind or body. If you make it to this level, you’ve got an inner strength that can get you through this too. Use the same skills you use on the field to manage your divorce and you’ll be okay.”

  Brian ran his palm over his pant leg. “I get what you’re saying.” His eyes sharpened, as his brain wrapped around the idea. “Like being ready for every play, knowing the team I’m up against, listening to the coaches, and stuff.”

  “Exactly. But I have to tell you, the biggest mistake I made was seeing my ex as my opponent. It’s easy to fall into that. If you can, you think of yourselves as on the same team—for the sake of your kids.”

  “A divorce team.” He covered his gut as if he’d been punched. “Never thought I’d play for that side.”