The Perfect Catch (Last Play Romance (A Bachelor Billionaire Companion) Book 9)
Page 13
She warmed at the compliment. “You know, flattery won’t work with me.”
“No flattery. I mean it. You look fabulous.”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
He grew serious. “How in the heck did you ever end up with Vernie Stanley?”
Her stomach tightened. Did she want to bare all to Rigby?
He seemed to be reading her thoughts as his lips formed a tight line. “Give it to me straight.”
If they were to have any chance of making things work between them she had to tell him the unvarnished truth. She took in a breath, gathering her thoughts. “When I came back from Tampa … after seeing you with Sadonna … I was devastated.” He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Vernon had always been a good friend. He was there when I needed him. Eventually, I started viewing him as more than a friend and thought that one day …” She hesitated, seeing the dark look on Rigby’s face. “That I might grow to care about him like he cares about me.”
Rigby’s eyes searched hers. “You don’t love him?”
“No, I am so grateful to him for everything he’s done for me, but I don’t love him.”
He let out a relieved breath. “Good.”
“I’ve only cared about one man that way,” she continued.
A cocky grin stretched over his lips. “Me.”
She chuckled. “Yes, you big moron, you don’t have to look so prideful about it.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
The words settled into her heart like a healing balm, and suddenly she needed to tell him the rest. “When you asked me to go with you to Tampa, I was scared … to leave my grandparents, Clementine … everything I knew.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“But then I realized I’d made the biggest mistake of my life … that nothing was worth losing you. And that’s when I went after you.”
He drew in a quick breath as regret showed on his face. Then his expression became resolute. “If I’d known, there never would’ve been a question. I would’ve chosen you.” His eyes penetrated hers. “I will always choose you.”
Moisture gathered in her eyes. “Thank you, for saying that.”
He squared his chin. “It’s true.”
She linked her arm through his, rubbing her fingers along his skin. “What happened the first time you got suspended?” His brows darted together in a hard “V” as he tensed. “Please, tell me,” she implored.
He blew out a breath. “Sadonna and I started having problems, almost from the first moment we married. I realized I’d made a big mistake.” A grim smile thinned his lips. “Call me old fashioned, but marriage is not something you trifle with. I’d made a commitment and was determined to see it through at all costs.”
She nodded, knowing full well that Rigby would’ve done just that.
His eyes took on a distant look. “I’d been out shopping for a new pair of tennis shoes. I asked Sadonna to go with me, but she said she was having lunch with her girlfriends. I came home early and was surprised to see her car home. I went inside and heard noises. I went upstairs to our bedroom …” His voice caught.
Scarlett tugged at his arm, prompting him to continue.
“I heard Sadonna laugh, and then heard a male’s voice. I opened the door, and there they were—Sadonna and Dustin Clarke, one of my closest buddies on the team. For a second, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.” He laughed humorlessly. “Then I had one of those out-of-body experiences as rage took over, and I just started pounding. I don’t remember much except for the cops coming in and pulling me off him. Long story short, Dustin ended up in the hospital, I got suspended, and my marriage was bust.” His voice trailed off in silence.
Scarlett looked out at the horizon, swirled with pastels of the setting sun.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Me, too.”
“For what it’s worth. I don’t blame you for beating the guy up.”
He lifted an eyebrow, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “Well, you’d be the first. I’m supposed to be unstoppable on the field and then bottle it all up off the field, be this meek wuss who just takes everything people dish out.”
She chuckled. “Fat chance of that ever happening.”
“Yeah.”
She gave him an appraising look. “You know, you really are something. I’ve always loved your determination … on and off the field.”
“Yeah, but I have to learn to control it.”
“Yes, you do.”
She caught the pained look in his eyes as he turned to her. “Is that why your grandpa hates me? Is he afraid I’ll lose my temper with you?” A fierce light glowed in his eyes. “Because you know, I never have and never will.”
“I know that.” And, she did know it. She’d never feared for one second that Rigby would ever do anything to hurt her. “Yeah, that may be part of the reason why he doesn’t like you. He’s always seen you as a rebel, someone who refuses to conform, pushes through his own agenda. And you are those things.”
He nodded and looked away, but she wasn’t finished.
“Look at me.” His eyes met hers. “He can’t see what drives you like I can. I know how painful it was for you to be abandoned by your mother … to never even know your father.”
“You lost your parents, too. That’s why we initially banded together.”
“Yes, my parents were taken from me in a car accident, but they didn’t leave of their own volition. There’s a difference.”
He swallowed.
She tightened her hold on his arm. “I know you, Rigby Breeland. I know what drives you. You’ve spent your entire life fighting this unseen ghost, trying to prove you’re good enough … that you’re worthy of love.” When she saw the tears in his eyes, her own vision blurred. “But you need to know that you are enough.” She squared her jaw. “I mean it. If all the football pomp and circumstance vanished tomorrow, you’d still be enough because you’re you. It wasn’t the great Rocket Breeland I fell in love with, but plain ole Rigby Breeland. I don’t give a flying flip how well you can throw a dang football, except that it makes you happy. Do you get what I’m saying?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “That you love me?”
“Yes.” When his eyes went big she realized what she’d done. “Oops, did I say that out loud?”
“Yep, sure did.” A teasing smile quivered at the corners of his mouth. “It’s too late to take it back now.”
She lifted her chin. “Who said I want to?”
His eyes searched hers, and she saw his vulnerability, felt it as an echo of her own insecurities. “Where does that leave us? Will you come with me to Tampa when I go back?”
A tremor went through her, and she answered him as honestly as she could. “I don’t know. I have my restaurant to think about, my grandpa.”
He nodded, disappointment clouding his features.
“But, I don’t want to lose you. I have to believe we’ll find a way to work this out.”
He brightened, letting out a relieved breath. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. Maybe I need to check into the plane idea.”
She laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why not? Anything’s possible.”
Sitting here with him in this beautiful spot with the sunset unfolding in front of them she felt like anything might just be possible. She leaned close, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, you did charter a boat today. That counts for something.”
13
For Rigby, the next three weeks flew by at a record pace as he and Scarlett transitioned effortlessly from their “first date” to a steady relationship. It was amazing how quickly he’d settled into a comfortable routine in Clementine, almost to the point where time felt suspended. On weekdays, he got up every morning at six and worked out for a couple of hours, then ate breakfast with Coralee. Now that the house was completely painted, he turned his attention to the landscaping. He typically worked in the yard until around noon,
then he’d shower and head to The Magnolia for a late lunch with Scarlett around two-thirty after the rush was over. Then he’d go back home and relax for a few hours until Scarlett got off work, and they’d spend the rest of the evening together. The weekends were even better because he and Scarlett spent their entire Saturday together, then went to church on Sunday. The only break in this schedule was when Rigby drove to Daphne to attend the anger management class, which wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. The only dark cloud in an otherwise sunny sky was that Rigby had only four more weeks in Clementine before going back to Tampa. Monroe had been in close contact with the Director of Player Personnel who asserted that the Titans were eager to get Rigby back on the team, if he continued to lay low and keep his nose clean over the next four weeks.
Rigby chuckled as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his tie. If this was laying low, he’d sign up for it a hundred times over. Today after church, Coralee was making a big, Sunday lunch at her house. Admittedly, Rigby was a little nervous because it was the first time Mr. Foster was joining them. Unfortunately, things were still as tense between Rigby and the old man as ever. If anything, Mr. Foster had gotten worse since he and Scarlett became so close. He sighed wishing there was something he could do to help the situation, but Scarlett kept telling him it would take time. “Once Grandpa realizes that we’re together for good, he’ll come around,” she kept saying. Rigby certainly hoped that was the case.
“Are you almost ready?” Coralee called.
“Yes, I’ll be right down.” It was a few minutes past nine, and the church service didn’t start until ten. It would take them all of fifteen minutes to get there, but Coralee hated being late. So, they’d get there super early, and Rigby would cool his heels for thirty minutes or so while Coralee chatted with members of the congregation.
She was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs and handed him the keys to her Cadillac. Coralee had two cars—a Chevrolet Impala and a Cadillac nearly as old as Rigby. The Chevrolet was her running-around car for weekdays, and the Cadillac was reserved for Sundays. She’d insisted Rigby wash it the day before and get it gassed up and ready to go. He loved how Coralee was a stickler for tradition.
“You look spiffy,” she said, looking him up and down.
“Thanks. You look breathtaking.”
She blushed as she giggled. “Always the charmer.”
Rigby had been throwing around the same compliment since he was a teenager. Breathtaking might’ve been a stretch, but Coralee looked cute in her pastel-blue, floral dress with cream lace at the neck and sensible, blue shoes. The best part was her cream hat cocked at a jaunty angle on her head, silver curls peeking out beneath.
The white chapel on the hill with the tall steeple marked the cornerstone of Rigby’s growing-up years. As a kid, he’d come here time and time again with Coralee who was either singing in the choir or serving on some committee. He remembered playing under the pews and getting in trouble for snatching a few dollars from the collection tray when he thought no one was looking. He held Coralee’s arm as she strode regally in and chose her regular seat three rows from the front. Then she patted Rigby’s hand. “I’ve got a few things to take care of before the service begins.”
He smiled. “Go ahead. I’ll be just fine.” Not a minute after she left, Rigby felt a tug. He turned, surprised to see Pepper McClain. She was wearing a tight dress more appropriate for a night club than church.
“Good morning,” she chirped, placing a manicured hand on his arm.
“Hey.” As casually as he could, without causing a scene, he removed his arm from her grasp.
She looked him up and down with open admiration. “How’s life treating you, Rocket?” she purred.
“I’m doing okay. How about you, Pepper?”
“Can’t complain. The kids are back in school. Gives me lots of free time during the day.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “If you ever wanna stop by, you’re always welcome. We had such a great time together at the concert.” An insinuating smile spread over her lips. “I’m sure we can find a way to occupy our time.”
He stiffened. “I’m good, thanks.” He caught a whiff of her musky perfume so potent it made his eyes water. Someone needed to tell her to tone it way down.
She winked. “I know you’re good, darling. That’s why I’m inviting you over.”
It always astounded Rigby how forward some women were. He’d thought she was a nice divorcee who was a bit over zealous in her attempt to score a new man, but this was absurd, a side of Pepper he’d not seen. An alley cat had more scruples. Rigby found her manner downright repulsive. His eyes narrowed. “I’m with Scarlett Foster now.”
Her smile fell a notch, but she fastened it back on as she lifted her chin, her eyes going cold. “Your loss, darling.”
She flipped her hair strutting away.
Rigby breathed a sigh of relief when she was gone. He pitied the poor fool who would eventually get ensnared by her.
He felt someone watching him and looked across the chapel to where Vernie Stanley was sitting. Vernie’s hand went up in a wave that looked more like a salute. Rigby returned the gesture with a curt nod. He was about to turn away when Vernie stood and strode toward him. Rigby tensed, not sure what to expect. When two men loved the same woman there was bound to be trouble, and he needed to avoid conflict at all costs. No matter what Vernie said or did, he had to remain calm. He was more than a little surprised when Vernie offered a friendly smile.
“Rocket.”
“Vernie.” He hadn’t meant to be insulting, but the name just slipped out. He cleared his throat. “Vernon,” he corrected.
“I just want to clear the air between us to make sure there’s no misunderstanding,” Vernie said, his upper lip stiff.
“Okay.” The man was so painfully awkward that it hurt watching him.
“As hard as it is for me to lose Scarlett …” He cleared his throat and began again. “Above all, I just want her to be happy.”
The words came out clipped and forced, and Rigby could only guess what it must’ve cost Vernie to say them. In that moment, he felt a little sorry for Vernie—felt his pain of losing Scarlett. He’d experienced it first hand and knew how grueling it was. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, Scarlett never meant to hurt you. Unfortunately, you got caught in the middle of something that’s been going on since we were kids.”
“Take good care of her.”
The edge in Vernie’s voice caused Rigby’s jaw to tense. “I plan on it.”
Vernie nodded, a tight smile forming over his lips. “No hard feelings then?”
Rigby relaxed. “No hard feelings.” He admired that Vernie had gone out of his way to mend fences. If the situation had been reversed, Rigby didn’t know if he could be so magnanimous.
Vernie thrust out his hand, and the two shook on it. Then Rigby caught sight of Scarlett out of the corner of his eye. Vernie saw her too and flinched.
Rigby teased Coralee about being breathtaking, but Scarlett really was in her flowing, red dress that showed off her curves. The neckline was cut in a “V”, highlighting her exquisite neck. Every eye in the room seemed to follow her as she stepped up, her eyes a mixture of concern and surprise as she looked at the two men. “Hello.” Rigby couldn’t help feeling a burst of pride when she moved close to him. He put a protective arm around her waist.
“You look lovely as always,” Vernie said smoothly, but his face had gone pale.
“Thanks,” Scarlett mumbled, giving Rigby a questioning look.
Rigby could only shrug, an awkward silence between the three of them until finally Vernie spoke.
“I’ll leave you two alone. Good day.” He turned on his heel and walked briskly away.
When he was out of earshot, Scarlett turned to Rigby. “What was that about?”
“He came over to tell me he doesn’t want hard feelings between us. He just wants you to be happy.”
She raised her eyebrows, wrinkling h
er forehead. “Really?”
“That’s what he said.”
Her forehead creased. “Don’t you think it’s strange that he went out of his way to speak to you?”
He shrugged. “I’m as surprised as you that he came over.”
“Hmm,” she mused.
“What?”
“That was a little much, don’t you think? Giving us his blessing?”
He rubbed his neck. “I dunno. Maybe. You always said he was a nice guy. Maybe he’s just trying to bury the hatchet.”
“Yeah … I guess.”
He chuckled. “Oh, don’t be too hard on ole Vernie. Losing you has to be crushing.”
She tipped her head, a mischievous grin revealing her adorable dimples. “Really?”
“Really,” he said firmly. “I know from sad experience, and I don’t plan on letting it happen again.” He pulled her close, planting a kiss on her cheek as she laughed.
“Not in church,” she giggled.
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, if I must refrain, I must. But only if you promise to make it up to me later.” Her eyes widened, and he loved how her cheeks went pink.
“You’re terrible,” she cooed, her dark eyes sparkling.
He winked. “Yes, and you love me for it.”
Another week had passed and Rigby and Scarlett were still no closer to finding a solution to the Clementine and Tampa situation. In three short weeks, Rigby would be back in the trenches in Tampa. Normally, he’d be chomping at the bit to get back in the game, were it not for having to leave Scarlett. There was no way he could ask her to give up her restaurant and follow him to Tampa. Scarlett’s restaurant was her baby. She’d worked hard to get it off the ground and now, in a strange turn of events, it was doing great, thanks to the notoriety she’d received over the ten-thousand-dollar sweet potato pie. It was funny how things worked out. Rigby bid the exorbitant amount on the pie in the hopes of letting Scarlett know how much he still cared, and had no idea it would end up helping her business. Plus, she’d gotten the favorable write-up from the blogger, who also mentioned the pie in her article. Rigby felt very blessed that things were working out so well with Scarlett, aside from not knowing how they’d manage a long-distance relationship, once he went back to Tampa. He’d felt so lost before coming here and prayed for direction. The answer had been to come to Clementine. He assumed he needed to help Coralee, but now he knew it was also because he needed Scarlett back in his life. He hoped getting back together was good for her, too. He wanted to be able to put her needs before his, but to the depth of his soul he didn’t want to give up his football career. He’d just have to keep praying that it would all work out.