A Player for Christmas: Book 4 The Last Play Series

by Hart, Taylor

  Ana turned to see Brooks roughly wipe tears off of his cheek, and warmth rushed through her—the same kind of warmth she felt every time she prayed. Every time she’d felt overwhelmed in desperation, this warmth was what would bring her back to hope. Looking into the eyes of Brooks Stone, she knew that even though she’d felt so alone and lost and afraid and angry that Callie’s father had deserted and abandoned her, God had sent an angel to her. Not one with wings or a halo, but one with a black eye and a split lip. Grinning up at him, she realized that God had filled in those places she didn’t even realized she needed filled—with his grace. “Okay.”

  He grinned and pulled her into his arms, gently kissing her head. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 20

  If someone would have told Brooks a week ago that he would fly to Salt Lake City, take a little girl with cancer out for a date, offer to go to Santa Monica and track down an old roommate, and end up in a cage fight, he would have told them they were living in a fantasy land. Yet here he was. The crazy thing was that he had never felt so alive.

  “Hey.” Ana opened her arms as she eagerly moved toward Callie.

  Callie’s whole face lit up, and they hugged. “Mama!”

  For a few seconds Brooks watched the reunion, touched by the love between this mother and daughter. At that moment, something shifted. It had started the moment he’d met Callie; then, he’d fallen helplessly in love with Ana.

  At this moment, he knew he wanted to be Callie’s father too. He wanted to be part of what they had, to have a right to love them, protect them, pay for anything they wanted. Because they belonged to the same family. It was a sudden awakening that nearly took his breath away.

  Ana pulled back from Callie and held up the paper. Callie’s face lit up. “You found Daddy?”

  All the love and all the protectiveness washed out of him, replaced with anger and loathing for Ken Given. If only he could get in another hit right now to repay Ken for the hope on this child’s face. For the pain and suffering he’d caused her, a bazillion hits wouldn’t be enough. But hitting something wouldn’t help her now.

  To Ana’s credit, she only winced once before managing a smile. “Daddy wishes he could be here, but he’s so busy in California.” Hearing the lie, Brooks tried to keep a neutral expression on his own face.

  “Why wasn’t he answering his phone?”

  Ana waved at the air in dismissal. “He lost his phone.”

  Callie’s face fell. She reached out, putting her hand on top of her mother’s. “Don’t, Mama.”

  Ana blinked. “What?”

  “It’s okay, Mama. God told me.”

  Brooks tensed, unable to deny the fact that God did seem to tell Callie a lot of things. She was the smartest kid he’d ever met.

  Instant tears sprang to Ana’s eyes. “What, baby?”

  “God told me that Daddy can’t be here. That’s part of the reason he sent Brooks.” She looked at him and frowned. “What happened to your face?”

  He laughed at the innocence of her question, and blinked back emotion. Moving to the other side of the bed, he sat in the chair and put his hand on Ana’s and Callie’s. “Callie, I have to tell you something.”

  “What?” She easily smiled.

  “God may have sent me to you … but he really sent you … to me.”

  Callie hesitated for a second, then giggled. “I always knew that, Brooks Stone.” She held her arms out to hug him.

  Brooks leaned into her, knowing that even if he were the Grinch, his heart would have grown three more sizes. He hugged her close.

  Pulling back, Callie looked up at him with innocent eyes. “Are you going back tonight to get ready for the game?”

  Brooks checked his phone, hating that he had to get back so he could get approval to play. “I’m going to the airport in an hour, but I want you to know that I’ll be coming to Brazil to see you as soon as I can.” He felt his voice get stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t explain how much he didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to be back at that game. Didn’t want to go to his quiet home in Florida. All he wanted to do, with every part of him, was take this awful illness from her. Tears fell down his cheeks.

  Carefully, she put her small hand to his cheek. “Have faith, Brooks Stone.”

  Chapter 21

  Ana sat next to Callie on the bed. Christmas omelets were finished. Presents were opened: Ana had given Callie a soft new blanket, while Callie had given Ana a new beaded bracelet and necklace. The big screen was on, and they had two minutes to game time.

  Ana held Callie’s hand, grateful and hardly believing she’d be taking her daughter to Brazil in two days. She blinked and turned to her daughter, whose faith had inspired her. Her daughter, who was everything to her.

  “What, Mama?”

  “Nothing, baby.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “That I’m happy.”

  “Because I can go to Brazil?”

  “Yes. And I’m just happy to be your mama.”

  “I’m happy about that, too.”

  They both turned back to the television, and she braced herself to see Brooks, number eighty-eight, come running out. He’d told her on the phone the night before, when he’d called and they’d fallen asleep on the phone, that he’d been approved. She felt nervous butterflies in her gut, like the first time she’d landed a big client.

  “What else, Mama?”

  “What—what else? There’s nothing else.”

  “Mama.” Callie giggled.

  “What?”

  “You know that God told me,” Callie said, slightly accusing.

  Ana relented. “What did he tell you?”

  “That Brooks was for you, too.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I asked for Brooks as my Christmas present, but God sent him for both of us.”

  Ana blushed, resigned to the fact her daughter always knew everything before she told her. She grinned.

  “You’re blushing, Mama.” Callie giggled.

  Ana rolled onto her side and tickled Callie. “Oh, yeah? Well, you’re giggling.”

  Callie started giggling hysterically, and Ana loved it. Loved the carefree energy that had been missing from her serious child for so long.

  When she stopped tickling her, Ana pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Callie.”

  “What would you have if you could have anything today, Mama?”

  Ana blinked. “You know.”

  “Besides me being better, Mama.”

  Her mind flashed to Brooks, thinking about him being here with them. “Umm, I don’t know.”

  Someone cleared their throat, drawing their attention toward the door. Brooks stood there, grinning and holding two bouquets of Christmas flowers.

  “Brooks!” Callie clapped her hands together.

  Ana couldn’t believe it. “But how?” She looked at the television and then back to Brooks.

  “Dumont and I had a talk. Then he had a talk with the coaches, and we all agreed I should sit out this game.”

  “What?”

  Brooks shrugged. “You can’t be too careful with high ankle sprains.”

  Ana jumped off the bed and threw herself into his arms.

  Laughing, he held her for a second, then let her go and moved to Callie, leaning down and holding her in a gentle hug.

  He looked at the television. “Almost game time.” He tugged a chair over and patted the bed, where Ana had been sitting. “Let’s watch.”

  The Miami Surf ran out onto the field, and the stadium went wild.

  Ana sat next to Callie. Brooks scooted closer to her, taking her hand, and cleared his throat. Ana turned to see him smiling. “What?”

  “That was a good question, Ms. Given. What would you want if you could have anything today?”

  Grinning at him, she looked at Callie and then back to him. “You.” She pressed her lips to his.

  “Yay!” Callie called out.

  Brooks pulled back and then
winked at Callie. “I guess your mama wanted a player for Christmas, too.”

  Ana kissed him again. “Who knew?”

  Callie grinned at her mother. “I did, Mama.”

  And all of them laughed.

  “Yes, you did, Callie.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later, Brooks stood in front of a makeshift church that the people in the small village had put together. Sam Dumont and Roman Young stood next to him. Sam was the best man, but both families had come over for the occasion, and Roman would not be left out of standing up at the front. Brooks grinned as they teased him about looking good in a monkey suit.

  The music changed, and he watched Callie come into view. She wore a miniature “wedding dress” that matched Ana’s. The treatment had worked. The blood test last week had come back clean—no more cancer. Her hair was growing back nicely, almost reaching to her ears.

  His heart warmed as he watched her throwing little flower petals out of the basket. She looked beautiful. A fatherly stir went through him as he thought of how the only thing left to make her his daughter was a signature on the paperwork in the little building where they were staying. Immense gratitude to God filled him. Admittedly, he hadn’t really believed in a God until he’d met Callie.

  She winked at him as she veered off and then took her spot on the other side of the altar.

  Then she was there. Ana. In glorious majesty, she floated toward him. The doctor who was in charge of the treatment center was walking her down the aisle. Dr. Haman. He would always have a special place in their hearts.

  Brooks had flown to Brazil the day after he’d caught the game winning touchdown in the championship game six weeks after Christmas. The Surf had beaten the Dallas Destroyers 37:30. While it was a victory for Brooks, it was nothing compared to this day.

  Before Callie and Ana had come into his life, he hadn’t realized what life could be like or what it meant to love or to be blessed by blessing others. If it was a hero complex, he didn’t care. He liked this new version of himself.

  Dr. Haman released Ana’s arm, and she moved up the altar to stand across from Brooks. The priest began. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today, in the presence of God and these witnesses, to see the union of this man and this woman.”

  Complete happiness filled him. He stared at the adoration on Ana’s face and knew his expression matched hers. Both of them smiled like they were sharing a personal joke. It almost made him laugh. He was surprised at how they could look at each other and know what the other was thinking. It was different from what he’d had with Amber. And he was immeasurably grateful for that.

  A few moments passed, and Brooks wasn’t sure how much he’d missed simply getting lost in Ana’s eyes until he felt Sam bump his shoulder. “Oh.”

  Ana’s grin widened.

  Brooks turned to the priest.

  “Well, do you take this woman to wed, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

  “I do,” he said quickly, and he could hear both Roman and Sam let out muffled coughs. He would deck both of them later for that.

  The priest turned to Ana. “Do you take this man to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

  A tear leaked from her eye, and Brooks couldn’t fathom how even more love could grow in his heart.

  Callie leaned forward. “Mama, you know what to say.”

  Ana grinned, and a light laugh escaped. “Yes, I do.”

  After the ceremony, Sam and Roman and Brooks sat by the fire, watching their wives dance with the kids. Then Sam elbowed him. “Dude, you better get working on more kids.”

  Brooks grinned. “Plan to.”

  Roman and Sam both let out loud laughs.

  Then Brooks elbowed Sam back. “You’ve been married for a whole month; you’re the one that needs to get working.”

  Sam blushed. “Oh, we are.”

  They all grinned, and for the millionth time that day, Brooks felt emotional. These two men had become more than fellow players. They’d become true friends. Being here, married to a woman who he loved with all his heart, and sitting with real friends, was something he could never have imagined for himself.

  “No crying, man.” Sam nudged him.

  Brooks turned to Sam and saw tears on his cheeks.

  Sam pushed him in the shoulder. “Look away, or I’ll have to punch you to justify all this crying.”

  They all laughed, and Brooks noticed even Roman’s eyes were wet.

  Ana strolled up to him, lifting her eyebrows. “Come on, husband. Let’s get to the honeymoon.”

  Brooks took her hand. “Done!”

  “Wahoo!” Sam called out as they left.

  As they passed the dancing, Callie ran to them. She hugged both of them at the same time. “I know we already said goodbye, but I’ll miss you guys.”

  Holding both of these girls, Brooks knew he would never let them go. “Don’t worry, Callie. I’ll always come back for you.”

  Grinning at him, she pointed up. “Oh, I know. He already told me that, too.”

  I hope you enjoyed A Player for Christmas. If you would like to receive a book FREE, The Christmas Eve Kiss, ($3.99 value), sign up for my newsletter HERE. Another benefit of receiving my newsletter (which I send out about once a month) is that you will be notified of the 24-hour discounts on new releases that only newsletter subscribers receive.

  If you liked this book…you may enjoy Book 1 of Last Play Series. Keep reading for a sample of Roman’s story.

  Last Play, Chapter 1

  When Roman Young, the Dallas Destroyer’s quarterback, boarded the flight to Salt Lake, he kept his hoodie on, not wanting to be recognized at the moment, which was unusual for him. He was just settling into first class when his phone buzzed.

  “What?”

  “Dude, you can’t leave.” Jake, his long-time agent and friend, spoke with clipped words. “Your team just won the championship game and there are a bunch of parties and photo ops.”

  Roman stared at the shiny new ring on his finger and cringed. It should have been him out there, throwing the winning touchdown, but the coaches had refused, saying they wouldn’t risk his knee. He frowned. His knee was fine now. Better than fine. “I’ll be back in a couple days.”

  Jake hesitated and then let out a long, irritated sigh. “Has Sheena roped you into something?”

  Roman’s breath hitched at the sound of his ex-wife’s name. “No, it’s not Sheena. It’s…my uncle.”

  “Who?” Jake’s voice had a sharp edge to it.

  Clutching his fist, Roman let out a whiff of breath. “He passed away two weeks ago, but the attorney was told not to contact me until after the championship game.”

  Jake sighed. “Oh man, I’m sorry.”

  He unclenched his fist, seething. “It’s…fine.”

  “You’ve had a rough couple of months.”

  Leave it to Jake to point out the obvious. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Wait!”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Hey, did you see the headlines today?”

  He’d purposely not picked up a paper or opened up his news app today. The last thing he needed to see was Sam Dumont’s cheating face on the front page—with his cheating ex-wife at his side. “Can’t say I have.”

  A soft moan escaped Jake. “No wonder you’re so bugged.”

  “I’m bugged because my uncle died.” Which, to Roman’s surprise, was actually the truth.

  “I know. I know. But, the owners put out a statement that they still haven’t decided if you or Dumont will be their starter for next season.”

  That got his attention. “Even after the game?” The game where Dumont had risen to the challenge of being starting quarterback and taken the Destroyers to a championship game victory?

  Jake laughed. “Right.”

  The ache in his chest eased a bit.

  “I guess they attribute most of the team build
ing of the last few years to you. They said it was your leadership that got them to this point and they think your knee injury is temporary.”

  Relief surged into him. “‘Bout time they realized it.”

  “Ahh,” Jake let out a sigh. “There’s the cocky ego maniac I know and love. You’ve been absent lately.”

  Roman tugged back his hoodie and motioned to the pretty flight attendant. “Could I have some Pierre water please?”

  “So why don’t you hop off that plane and come to my office. We’ll talk strategy.”

  Roman hesitated, the previous relief instantly evaporating. “I can’t.”

  “Roman, you can’t do anything crazy. I need you back for the meeting with the owners in four days.”

  “I won’t do anything crazy.” His mind flashed to four months ago, the night he’d been charged with a DUI after swerving into the other lane and hitting a woman and her son. He took the water from the flight attendant and nodded. He’d never been a drunk before, but after that night, when the woman and child had walked away with minimal injuries that could have been much worse, he’d vowed he’d never drink again. His uncle had been the one to re-focus him. He pressed a hand to his forehead and squeezed. He had to stay focused. This could be a new beginning. “Don’t worry, I won’t blow my chance. I’ll be back.”

  Jake let out a low whistle. “Okay, but keep your head down and stay out of the headlines. We need to have the owners completely convinced that Roman Young is ready to take his rightful place leading the team next season.”

  “I’ll be back in a day or two tops.”

  “I’m holding you to it. You’re not the only one that gets a windfall when you sign a contract.” He let out a whoop. “Back to the top, Roman Young..... that’s where you’re headed.”

  Roman leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. The whirlwind of his football career flashed before his eyes. After graduating from T & M he’d gone straight to the Destroyers, touted as the top draft pick that year. The Destroyers had paid big for Roman Young, and he’d paid out for them—in spades. He’d taken them to the top and won it for them for three consecutive years. He had felt unstoppable during that time. It was like nothing could go wrong. He’d been the sweetheart of the media and the whole state of Texas.