The roar of fifty thousand cheering fans swelled up and made him raise his voice to a near shout. “You agreed to trust me.”
She bristled at his side as he led her down a long, empty hallway. “That was before I knew you were insane.” She attempted to pull free of his grip.
He held her firm.
“Haven’t you seen the papers the last few days? The stories have hardly been flattering to you, which is exactly the reason I never contacted you in first place. The members of the press are hateful in their never-ending quest for a juicy story. If they catch us together, they’re going to go berserk!”
She ground her teeth together when he chuckled and punched his way through a set of double doors. Another long hallway awaited them.
He twisted his wrist to check his watch then hurried his steps. “Don’t worry about the press. By the end of the day, they’ll be singing a different tune entirely.”
Unease tickled her spine. “Why? What have you done?”
“I haven’t done anything.” He veered sharply to the right, through another door. “Yet.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. Hadn’t the free-for-all at The Met been enough? She opened her mouth to demand he tell her what was going on and blinked instead. Her head swiveled back and forth as he dragged her through what was clearly the Marauders’ empty locker room. She gawked at the benches and equipment bins, the enormous water cooler in one corner and the rows of lockers. Her gaze snagged and her head swiveled back over her shoulder as they passed a locker with MALONE marked in big, block letters.
The metal bar of a door clanked and the locker room disappeared as Tom swept her out of the Marauders’ inner sanctum and toward an elevator on the other side of yet another hallway.
She dug in her high-heeled boots, refusing to take another step. “What’s going on, Mr. Walden?”
His name on her lips stopped him cold and he turned back. His mouth formed a guilty grimace. “I guess asking you to call me Dad would be pushing things, wouldn’t it?”
Her heart staggered under the direct hit. Call him Dad? The many happy fantasies she imagined concerning him throughout the years shimmered through her mind like radiant jewels. God, did he realize how many times she’d called him Dad in her dreams? Did he suspect he was the reason she’d learned all there was to know about football? Was that why he made the comment?
She squinted suspiciously. Like Jake, Tom Walden was a professional competitor. Until she knew what he was up to, she couldn’t afford to let him manipulate her. If manipulation was his game.
Please, don’t let manipulation be your game.
Not sure how to respond, she said nothing.
He sighed and, though she studied him for signs of deceit, she simply couldn’t find any. In fact, his eyes darkened with insecurity when he reached for her other hand.
His voice deepened with hesitation. “Mr. Walden sounds too formal. You don’t know me yet, and that’s my fault, but I hope, in time, to build a relationship with my daughter. A relationship much warmer than that of polite strangers.” He squeezed her hand before clearing his throat of the hint of moisture shimmering in his eyes. “How about you call me Tom?”
Speaking around the lump in her throat proved difficult. Her eyes flooded with unshed tears. “I think I’d like that. All of that.”
He smiled and surprised her by bending to brush her cheek with a quick kiss. Dizzy with pleasure, she staggered along beside him into the elevator. Bright lights and noise greeted them when the doors opened again and they stepped into a private skybox overlooking the field. Max, Mary and the twins turned where they were seated on a long couch before the wall of glass.
“Auntie Gracie!” The girls squealed their dual greeting.
Angel’s brow puckered in grievance. “Where have you been?”
Max arched a brow. “Yeah. Where have you been?”
Charlie scrambled around on her knees to face her. “Jake didn’t know where you were. He was really mad.”
Angel nodded. “He said bad words. Then he said he’d need to take out a loan because of all the money he had to put in the swear jar.”
Max laughed and guilt tugged at Gracie’s gut. Tom came to her rescue even as he released her hand and picked up a house phone. “Gracie had some things she had to attend to.” He punched in several numbers. As he waited for someone to answer his call, he met Max’s gaze and bumped his chin toward the glass overlooking the field. “How’s he doing?”
Assuming Tom meant Jake, Gracie’s gaze swung to the scoreboard. The score was tied.
Max grunted. “He’s not himself today.” He shot Gracie a raised brow.
Gracie crossed her arms and notched up her chin. She already carried enough guilt and refused to take the blame for Jake’s off day.
“He only needs one more catch to get the record,” Charlie announced.
“But he didn’t eat his meatloaf last night.” Angel spoke matter-of-factly, as if there was no doubt in her mind where the blame lay if he failed in his quest today.
Mary’s lips thinned and she tsked. “He claimed he wasn’t hungry. Imagine, a man of his size not eating his meatloaf when he has such an important game ahead of him the following day.” She shook her head and the pointed stare aimed at Gracie said clearly where she laid the blame.
“Tell Jake she’s here.” Tom spoke the words into the phone and hung up.
She narrowed her eyes, but he turned away to study the field below. She followed his gaze and searched the Marauders’ side of the field, but spotting Jake among the many uniformed men was impossible until he left the sideline several moments later and sprinted toward the line of scrimmage at the fifty-yard line. “Wait a minute. What’s going on, Tom?”
“He’ll do better now. I guarantee it.” He spoke without taking his eyes from the action below.
Gracie’s questioning gaze flicked to Max. He shrugged. His smile resembled that of the Cheshire Cat, but he didn’t say a word.
She looked down at the field. No matter what else had happened, she loved Jake. She knew how much the record meant to him and prayed with every fiber of her being he achieved his goal. Like a runner waiting for the gun, he set his feet, one in front of the other, dipped his knees, and leaned forward. He turned his head, and a quiet gasp hissed through her teeth as, for a brief moment, he looked straight up at the skybox.
Her nerves stretched taught as he looked away and resettled into his crouch, still and ready on the far side of the field.
On the quarterback’s count, Jake shot from the line. His big body raced downfield before making a quick pivot toward the Marauders bench. In a perfect spiral, the ball sailed high and long over the heads of both Jake and the defensive player shadowing him like a second skin. Gracie held her breath. Impossibly, as if his legs were part sinew and muscle, part spring, Jake leapt high with his long arms extended. Soft as a feather, the ball dropped to settle in his gloved hands. The crowd roared when he landed with both feet tight-roping the out of bounds line.
Max and Tom charged the skybox’s glass, shouting encouragement as the twins scrambled from the couch to press their noses to the pane with Mary right behind them. Gracie’s nails dug into her palms and she held her breath, willing Jake to remain on his feet.
Though a half dozen defensive players pursued him, momentum dispensed with the one obstacle between Jake and the goal line. He stutter-stepped and spun in complete circle and the lone defensive player stumbled out of bounds. The crowd cringed along with Gracie, Tom, and Max, as Jake tiptoed one yard, then two, and a third until he finally found his balance again.
“Way to go, Tuck!” Tom shouted as Tuck appeared out of nowhere to take down a potential tackle, but his extra effort wouldn’t have changed the outcome. Like a perfect athletic machine, Jake charged down the sideline to the frenzied cheering of the crowd. The Marauders’ loyal fans nearly broke the sound barrier as his long legs ate up the remaining fifteen yards.
Elation pulsed in her heart as Jake claimed his place in the record book, violently spiking the ball in the end zone. Tears of joy flooded her eyes and helpless laughter gurgled in her throat when he turned to face the crowd with his arms raised and a victorious roar. He was quickly swallowed him up in a circle of his teammates, helmets crashing and bodies thumping in celebration.
The twins’ wild squeals competed with Max’s triumphant shout as he scooped them up and spun them in a dizzying circle. Tugged into their victory dance, a beaming grin lit up Mary’s face. Tom turned from the glass. Sheer pride and joy radiated from his sparkling blue eyes. He stepped forward and swept Gracie into his arms. “He did it. The son of a bitch did it!”
“Language.” Wrapped in Max’s group hug, Mary, Angel, and Charlie spoke the laughing warning simultaneously. Max shot Gracie a grin and threw back his head on a hardy laugh.
She grinned at her father. “Be careful. You’ll end up with a swear jar.”
His smile softened and he winked. “I’m counting on having one sitting right next to Jake’s.” He turned away to glance at the scoreboard.
She followed his gaze. Three seconds until halftime. Her elation over Jake’s accomplishment dampened under the subtle sadness permeating her heart. Tom was Jake’s best friend. With Jake living there permanently, of course he’d be spending time at the farm. Life was one irony after another, but the joke was on her. Jake would not only be living her dream, he’d be sharing it with her father.
The horn sounded, bringing the first half of the game to a close. Gracie glanced at the Jumbotron mounted high on the far wall of the stadium as the teams jogged from the field. The screen filled with the replay of Jake’s catch and touchdown as the announcers sung his praises. Tom slid his arm over her shoulders.
She turned her head to study him. “Is that what you meant earlier about the press singing a different tune? That they’d be blinded by his breaking the record and forget about the other stuff?”
“Nope.” He grinned and bumped his chin toward the opposite side of the field. “Watch.”
Confused, she slid her gaze to Max. He grinned and shrugged. Frustrated at being left out of the joke, she turned back as Jake’s image filled the screen. Sweaty and gorgeous, he held his helmet tucked beneath one arm. The joy she expected to see on his face was absent, however. She dismayed at the solemnness in his eyes. Tom gave her shoulder a squeeze as the on-field reporter stuck the microphone in Jake’s face.
“Congratulations on breaking the record. Though you’ve had a terrific season on the field, you’ve had to deal with some bad press personally, including your involvement in that mess at The Met on Thursday. How important was breaking a sixty-year touchdown record to your image and your career?”
The smile curving Jake’s lips didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, Bob, since everyone is more interested in my personal life than in hearing how lucky I am to play with such an incredible group of players, I’m going to help you out with that.”
“How so?”
“You mentioned the mess at The Met, but the only mess I witnessed on Thursday night, besides a certain member of the press crossing a line she shouldn’t, was my not standing firmly behind a woman who has spent her life protecting the father who didn’t know she existed. I’m talking about Gracie Gable. The woman I love.”
Gracie gasped and slapped her fingers over her mouth as Jake dropped his head back to look upward. She blinked when her image, twenty feet tall and slightly obscured through the suite’s glass, flashed on the screen. She dropped her gaze to the field and found him along the sideline. Though the distance was far, it seemed as if he stared straight at her.
“Did you hear that, Gracie?”
She shivered as she read his lips, even as his voice came through the speakers.
“I love you. I love you,” he repeated with heavy emphasis.
A ragged sob leaked through the fingers jammed to her lips.
“I’m sorry, baby. I was an ass.”
Fifty thousand fans broke into laughter mixed with applause. Tom winced at her side, but she grinned, despite the tears welling in her eyes. There went another twenty in the jar.
“Until I met a ballsy blonde and a couple of black-haired rugrats, I didn’t have a clue what family meant.”
Family. His family. Her heart slammed against her rib cage in a dizzying rhythm as the girls giggled behind her.
“Hell, I never even believed in the concept of family. You changed my heart and my mind and there’s no going back.”
Lightheaded, she dropped her hand to press her fingers to the glass. Mr. Irresistible smiled up at her and worked the crowd with his legendary charm. He lowered his voice to a sexy, Texas purr. “I need to ask you a question, Gracie. Right here, in front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses.”
Her heart lodged in her throat. Angel and Charlie scrambled from Max’s arms to rush to her side. Max and Mary joined them.
“You ready, princess?” Not a hint of humor showed on his face.
Was she ready? She slapped her free hand to the top of her head. Surprise, wonder, and fear competed for top billing in her galloping heart. Holy crap, if his question was the one she hoped for…. She nodded frantically. The stadium simmered with expectant murmuring.
His face split on a wide grin. “Okay.” He glanced around as if he wasn’t sure where he was then choked on a startled laugh. His gaze returned to caress hers. “Okay, but you have to come down here as soon as I’m finished. I have a feeling I’m going to need to kiss you.” He shifted the helmet to his other arm. “And bring the twins with you. I want my whole family present when you say, yes, Jake. I’ll marry you.”
His whole family. A sob escaped and she covered her quivering mouth with the back of her hand. Marry him? A tear plopped onto her wrist.
Tom squeezed her closer. “Do you love him, Gracie?”
Max barked a scoffing laugh.
She flicked him a watery glare before turning back to Tom. “More than I ever thought possible.”
Her father grinned. “Since the day I met him, Jake’s been like a son to me. If you say yes, he’ll be my son in truth. What do you say?”
Speaking was impossible with her throat closed. She nodded instead.
“It’s about damn time!” Max grouched, but his lips curved up in a smug smile.
“Language!” Mary and the twins spoke together then laughed.
Tom grinned, hugged her close, and leaned toward the glass to give Jake a thumbs-up. Jake whooped on the sideline and the crowd in the stands went wild. The stadium pulsed beneath the thunderous celebration.
“Then what are you waiting for? Get on down here, darlin’!” Jake’s laughing command echoed through the stadium. The girls shrieked and danced from foot to foot. Gracie broke into a weepy grin and gathered them close. Hand in hand, they raced out of the skybox. Tom, Max, and Mary squeezed into the elevator with them.
Security awaited them when the doors opened a minute later. Laughing and crying, Gracie raced through the tunnel and into the cavernous stadium. Bigger than life, sweaty and jubilant, Jake awaited her several yards away.
“Yes!” She skidded to a stop before him, the girls on each side.
He grinned and opened his arms.
“Yes, yes, yes.”
The girls let go to latch onto his legs and Gracie leapt into his arms and into her future with her family surrounding her.
THE END
Meet the author
Wife, mother and really young grandmother, Mackenzie Crowne shares her home with her high school sweetheart husband, a neurotic Pomeranian, and a blind cat. She calls Arizona home because the southwest feeds her soul. Her love of the romance genre has been a lifelong affair, both as a reader and a writer. A bout with breast cancer sharpened her resolve to see her stories shared with others. Today, she’s a seven-year survivor, living the dream. Her friends call her Mac. She hopes you will too. Visit her websi
te at mackenziecrowne.com, find her on Facebook, or follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/MacCrowne
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31681
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Book One in Kristina Mathews’ More Than A Game series.
Better Than Perfect
Life beyond the game…
Johnny “The Monk” Scottsdale has won it all on the baseball diamond. He’s even pitched a perfect game. Known for his legendary control both on and off the field, his pristine public image makes him the ideal person to work with young players in a preseason minicamp. Except the camp is run by the one woman he can’t forget…the woman who made him a “monk.”
Alice Harrison once traded her dreams so that Johnny Scottsdale could make it to the Majors—and then her dreams fell apart. Now here comes Johnny back into her life, just when she’s ready to finally go after her dreams. This time she’s not letting up. Even if she has to reveal what she kept secret for too long from her son and Johnny. She can’t be sure how things will turn out, but she’s not leaving until she swings for the fences…
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Learn more about Kristina at http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/30540
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Chapter 1
“Pitchers and catchers report to spring training in thirteen days, twenty-one hours and seventeen minutes,” Hall of Fame broadcaster Kip Michaels announced, and the crowd went wild. “Kicking off today’s Fan Fest, I’d like to introduce one of our newest players. Two-time Cy Young Award winner, perennial All-Star, and the last man to pitch a perfect game. Give a warm San Francisco welcome to Johnny ‘The Monk’ Scottsdale.”
Thirty thousand people were expected at the ballpark today. A great crowd—for a baseball game. But instead of working the count, Johnny would be working the crowd. Answering questions. Signing autographs. Putting himself out there in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He was as nervous as the day he’d made his professional debut fourteen years ago. Butterflies? Try every seagull on the West Coast taking roost in his stomach.
To Win Her Love Page 28
