Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance

by Sosie Frost

  “Unless you’re talking about a wedding shower…” Her words wavered. “Please don’t get them involved.”

  “They’re already involved. We all are. Did you bring everything?”

  “My laptop.”

  “Good.” I forced her into the living room. “Tell them exactly what you told me.”

  “I don’t think they want to hear this story, Lachlan.”

  It broke my heart, and she’d hate me for this, but I wasn’t letting her suffer with this alone. Not when we might have helped.

  Elle stayed silent. Jack spoke for her.

  “You weren’t fired for stealing,” he said.

  She didn’t want to answer. “I was, actually.”

  Leah leaned in close. “You’re no thief, Elle. Why did they fire you?”

  “Because of what I stole.”

  “Show them,” I said. “They have to see it.”

  I hated the fear in her eyes, but she opened the laptop and selected the worst of the photographs.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” she said. “We’re all implicated in this now. Blame Lachlan.”

  Cole shrugged. “We blame him for most things.”

  Fantastic.

  Elle flipped through the pictures quickly, quietly. She didn’t have to say much. The photographs spoke for themselves, each more damning than the last. She lowered her voice, trying to explain the indefensible.

  “The Rivets have been cheating for at least a year. Maybe longer. Peter spied on the teams you were going to play. Coach Thompson used those pictures to prepare for the games. The owners, some of the coaches, Peter, and I are the only ones who know.”

  Silence.

  I expected it.

  Jack’s expression was the first to crumble. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Only stared at the championship ring on his finger.

  “This…” His words clipped. “This isn’t right. This can’t be…”

  “They threatened Lachlan’s position if I didn’t cooperate,” Elle said. “After I took the photographs the demanded, Peter fired me. They must have thought I was a liability.”

  The revelation stole most of Leah’s energy. She plunked onto the couch next to Jack. “I can’t believe they’d do this.”

  “I can.” Cole couldn’t speak softly. He growled. “I knew they’d cheat. That’s the reason I’m here. Coach Thompson traded for me—made it clear that he expected me to hurt some people this season. He’ll break bones to win a football game, a few pictures aren’t gonna bother him.”

  Piper shook her head, staring at the group. “If this gets out…”

  “It’s a PR nightmare.” Leah groaned. “I have no idea how we can spin this. It’s a scandal wrapped in a nightmare all bundled up in a nuclear bomb just waiting to explode.” She paced the room, downing most of her coffee. The caffeine didn’t help to steady her hands. “This is worse than anything you’ve ever done, Jack.”

  He shrugged. “I wish that were more comforting, Kiss.”

  “We can’t hide this,” I said. “We have to come forward.”

  “Good. The rookie volunteers to get crucified.” Cole laughed. “Go ahead. Let us know how that goes.”

  Jack stood. I didn’t envy the pain he must have felt. My betrayal was nothing compared to his. The work he’d put into the team, the sacrifices he’d made, the way he had changed everything—his behavior, his habits, his entire life. Jack was a proud man, and he had a right to be. Not just because he had a beautiful family, but because he was the best quarterback in the league.

  And now everyone would have the same thought.

  Was it his talent that won games…or was it because the team cheated?

  “Lachlan’s right,” Jack said. “We have to bring this to light. Everything we did…” He lowered his gaze. “My championship. Fuck. It’s all a lie.”

  “No. Not a lie.” Leah took her husband’s hand. “You’ve worked your ass off, Jack. You carried this team. No one knew what the coaches were doing.”

  Piper wasn’t convinced. “It won’t matter. These pictures influenced game plans and play calls. The league is going to get…involved.”

  “Then there’s nothing we can do,” Jack said. “We have to reveal it before someone outside the organization does.”

  Elle’s voice hardened. “No. This is why I didn’t tell you. We can’t say a thing about any of this.”

  “It’s the right thing to do, Red.” I offered my hand. She didn’t take it. “It won’t come back on you. You have all the evidence—all the pictures and emails and testimony. We can end this.”

  “There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

  Oh Jesus. I was getting really sick of secrets.

  But Elle didn’t apologize. She opened a new file on her laptop.

  Then looked away.

  Ashamed.

  My vision flashed in white-hot anger. “Son of a bitch.”

  Coach Thompson and Peter, slime that they were, had something else on Elle.

  Nude pictures, taken from inside the locker room—the day we’d inadvertently showered and renewed our vows.

  I’d find the asshole who’d taken her picture and rip his fucking cock off.

  Elle cleared her throat. “They’re blackmailing me. It’s a character assassination. If I come forward, they’ll drop these. I’ll lose my credibility the instant the story spins of the photographer who showers naked with the team.”

  Cole lowered the lid of the laptop. The others stayed silent.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this happened?” I asked.

  She raised a hand. “There’s more.”

  “Jesus!”

  Elle opened another file. “Jack…I’m sorry about this.”

  If I knew we’d be seeing a slideshow, I’d have brought in some popcorn from my car.

  Jack hissed as he scrolled through hundreds of pictures. Apparently, Elle wasn’t the only one with a file ready for blackmail. Our quarterback was featured in dozens of questionable and scandalous images. Most of the pictures were of him, drunk and partying, with women crawling over his lap, bare-assed and grinning.

  Jack swallowed, his voice low. “Kiss…these are old pictures. You know I love you.”

  Leah didn’t look too closely. “I know, Jack.”

  Elle closed the laptop. Everyone quieted.

  “Almost every man on the team has a file,” she said. “Some are rather incriminating. Others are just embarrassing. There’s one series of images that will force someone out of the closet, and I don’t think he’s ready for that to be public. If we come forward with the cheating allegations, there’s a good chance these images will get leaked. The story will become about us, not the spying.”

  No one spoke.

  No one wanted to make the call.

  Elle continued. “However, if we do this? I have all the evidence we need. Emails. Correspondence. The paycheck I was given with extra money for doing the job. But I can’t make this decision. I wanted to protect you guys—the players. Jack, Cole, Lachlan. It’s your futures. Tell me what you want to do.”

  Jack didn’t hesitate. “We come forward. We’re a team, a family. We live together, and we die together.” He squeezed Leah’s hand. “The league and Frank Bennett won’t take any mercy on me.”

  Leah wasn’t deterred. “I’m ready for them. We’ll meet with the league and bring it to the media first.”

  Jack thought out loud. “Call Sports Nation. Can you get an interview arranged?”

  Cole and I both made a disgusted sound.

  “Who better?” he said. “Ainsley Ruport’s got a hard-on for all of us. At least it won’t look biased.”

  Piper checked her phone. “How much time do we have?”

  “None.” Jack swore. “We have to do it today. The regular season starts on Sunday. We can’t go into the season knowing this. If we get caught, last thing we want is to be punished for two years’ worth of fuck-ups.”

  Leah was already talking with her office,
planning with her secretary. “I can get a meeting set up for this afternoon, but this is going to create a shit storm. An umbrella won’t cut it; we’ll need to seek shelter.”

  Cole never backed down from a challenge. “We can handle it.”

  Piper hopped to her feet. “You three—say nothing at practice. Not to the media. Not to the coaches. Not to the team. Your agent—” she pointed to Cole and me, “I will speak for you. Jack, I’ll prepare a joint statement with yours. Elle, I need you to go home and bring me everything you have.”

  “There’s a lot,” she warned.

  “The more the better,” she said. “Leah and I will handle the interviews. And I’ll call my father. Some of the agents at his firm are actual lawyers. You’re gonna need one, Elle.”

  If the thought intimidated her, Elle didn’t show it. She steeled herself. More fucking brave than I might have been, and far more poised. This woman amazed me.

  And I asked so much of her.

  I followed Elle to the door, but she didn’t want to talk. She shook her head before I even spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Now her voice weakened. “Not now. Not with all this happening.”

  “Then when?”

  “Maybe when our lives aren’t falling apart?”

  “Red, you’re the only reason I’m standing in one piece.”

  If she believed me, she didn’t say it. I reached for her cheek. She ducked away before I could touch her.

  Her goodbye was a half-hearted whisper. I swore as the door closed.

  One crisis starting, and another one imploding.

  I fucked enough shit up. Who the hell knew if I made the right decision this time?

  I slunk to the kitchen. Did I want to drink the coffee or drown in it?

  Jack followed me. I owed him an apology, but I doubted it’d matter much once the team was suspended as a result of this bullshit.

  I leaned against the sink. “Can I get you anything? A beer?”

  “It’s six in the morning,” Jack laughed. “I don’t do that anymore.”

  “Right.”

  “Elle’s pissed at you.”

  “She has every right to be.”

  His warning was unnecessary. “Don’t fuck that up, rookie.”

  “Might be too late.”

  “With a girl like that you make the time.”

  He was probably right. “We had a fight…about everything. The pictures. The baby. Me.”

  “Did she win?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Tell her that. Works for me.”

  Not this time. My head ached as much as my body, and I still had ten hours of practice and drills and weight lifting ahead of me. I didn’t know how the vets handled it.

  “Do you remember what it was like your rookie year?”

  Jack thought the question was amusing for some reason. “Not at all. I drank most of that season away. I remember the women, the money, and the hangovers. But I think I spent most of the games scrambling and terrified.”

  “You played good though.”

  “Not as good as I should have been. I got lucky.”

  “Lucky.” I shrugged. “I never used to need luck.”

  “I live by it.”

  Hell, it could help me, I’d shoe a rabbit and take a foot from a horse. “I could use a bit of luck.”

  “Why?”

  Like he didn’t know. “Come on. I’m not contributing shit to the team.”

  “You got a reason for it?”

  “Hell if I know. Half the time I don’t even feel like I am part of the team.”

  I didn’t expect him to smile. “I was wondering when you’d notice it.”

  “Notice what?”

  He paused before he spoke, studying me. “I know your type, Lachlan.”

  “Dark and curvy?”

  “You’re good at your game,” he said. “Too good.”

  “What a sweet-talker.”

  “I’m serious. It’s time you got serious too. I don’t care what happened in training camp or during those exhibition games. You are and will always be one of the most talented players on the team. But do you know what your problem is?”

  “This should be fun.”

  “You still think you’re Lachlan Reed.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, if you want to act like a spoiled fucking child.”

  Well, this wasn’t as productive of a conversation as I’d hoped. “All right. I get your point.”

  “You don’t.” Jack pointed to the bruise on his face. “This type of bullshit? That’s the temper tantrum of some cocky kid who forgets that he’s part of a team. You acted out because you’re a spoiled bastard who was never challenged on the field.”

  He was right. Didn’t mean I’d admit it.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Jack said. “I was the same. Some loudmouth asshole who cared more about himself than the game. After the linemen let through a couple linebackers to sack my ass, I wised up and learned the truth.”

  “Which was?”

  “That we’re part of a team. There is no Jack Carson. No Cole Hawthorne. No Lachlan Reed. There’s a number on your uniform and a place for you in every play, but that’s it. And that’s good. That makes us work together. Keeps us looking ahead instead of behind. What happened in the past is done. We gotta keep our eyes downfield.”

  I heaved a breath. “There’s a lot of pressure on me now.”

  “Fuck the pressure. You think you’re the only one with problems?”

  “No, but—”

  “We all have our fucking issues. I’ve been fighting with the league for three years about my reputation. Last year, Cole was too afraid of his own strength to let anyone get near him. Know how we got through it?”

  “I’m guessing the team.”

  “You’re goddamned right. You are a part of this team. You’re in this family, and people are willing to help you.” Jack shrugged. “All you gotta do is ask.”

  What the hell did I have to lose?

  “I need your help.”

  “No shit, rookie.” Jack smacked my head. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m making you my go-to man. You’ll get open when I need to dump a pass. You’ll block when I got a linemen breathing down my neck. You’re gonna be someone I can trust, because, let’s face it, there’s not a lot of people on the team we can trust now. I’m counting on you.”

  “That’s great, but I fuck up every time I touch the ball.”

  “Believe me, I know,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  He wasn’t worried. “We haven’t been in sync. It takes time to develop that trust, but we’ll work on it together. Figure this shit out.”

  I liked his optimism. “Think I can pull it around?”

  “You already have.” Jack grinned. “You came to me.”

  “It wasn’t my idea. Elle’s the one who told me to pull my head out of my ass.”

  His smile faded. “Then you better do everything you can to keep her. This scandal will be bigger than all of us, and she’ll need you to take care of her.” He nodded. “And when you’re on the field, we’ll take care of each other. That’s how this works. It’s how we’re gonna win.”

  “Yeah, if we get a chance to play.”

  Jack tensed. “You think we’re gonna get fucked?”

  “Not us.” I hated to say it, the words pitting in my stomach. “I think they’re gonna go after Elle.”

  But they’d regret it if they did.

  She was my wife. The mother of my unborn child.

  The love of my life.

  I’d be damned if I let anyone hurt her.

  24

  Elle

  Some good came from the truth.

  When I did my interview with Sports Nation, I was fully clothed…because I certainly wasn’t anywhere else on the internet.

  I wasn’t used to being the target of a picture and not the photographer. At least I
’d looked good. Not that I wanted the world to see the goods, but I traded my tits for my integrity. And it’d worked. The media had a juicier story in the Rivets’ cheating.

  It made for one hellish weekend.

  Interviews. Analysis. Investigations.

  The only thing bigger than the revelation? Coach Thompson’s immediate response. I checked the time. Right on cue, they replayed it on Sports Nation. Every half-hour.

  “This is a grey area in the league rules…” His voice was somber, respectful. “But we never deceived the league or willfully acted in any way which would have given our team an advantage during a game. We may have misinterpreted the rules, but our organization will perform its own investigation in accordance with the league, and the personnel responsible will be disciplined.”

  Which meant, Peter was fired.

  Some people lost their jobs. Others? The voicemail on my phone didn’t offer me my position back.

  It gave me Peter’s.

  If I wanted it, I could become head photographer. I’d get a big raise, the travel stipend, all the responsibilities and acclaim.

  It was hush money, but damn if I wasn’t considering it. I was part of the Rivets’ family, and families stuck together.

  No matter how hard-headed the cockiest rookie in the league was.

  Or how stupid and stubborn his wife had been.

  I changed the channel on the television. It had been years since the Rivets played a game where I wasn’t on the field with them. I missed the crowds, the excitement, the energy.

  But…the couch was a good place to ward away the morning sickness. Or maybe it was just nerves? I could do nothing for Lachlan except wear his jersey and cross my fingers as the game started.

  I didn’t have to worry.

  The first series nearly gave me a heart attack, but he blocked one ferocious looking linebacker and kept the blitz off of Jack.

  They gave him the ball in the second series—an easy screen pass that he turned into a seven-yard gain.

  The third series was his best. He got open in the middle, dove for the ball, and came up with an impossible first down that led to a rushing touchdown.

  And each and every time he touched that ball or flashed on the screen, I teared up. It was mostly the hormones twisting me, but that pride was something I’d never felt before.