by Ava Miles
“Babe, please don’t hold back on how you feel,” Blake said with a groan.
She sidled up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You know I love you, but you also know what I’m talking about. The women who love you guys deserve a special badge of honor.”
A special badge of honor? Was it really that bad? Then Jordan remembered everything Grace had gone through in the press—from the cruel stabs about her looks to the mob scene that had surrounded them after baby furniture shopping.
“You’re absolutely right, Natalie,” Jordan said, giving Grace an encouraging smile. “We’re lucky you put up with us.”
“Amen,” Natalie responded with enthusiasm, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m glad you realize it. Jordan, I think whatever you have in the oven is done.”
Grace rushed over and opened the door. “Yeah, I can smell it too. Oh, strata! Jordan, where did you get all this food?”
“I captured an Italian food fairy,” he said with a laugh.
Blake gave a snort, his shoulders shaking.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Grace said, taking the pan out of the oven. “Let’s eat.”
Jordan didn’t stuff himself like the others did since he had practice. But he did feel more settled now that he had their friends around, like he and Grace were back to old times with them.
They fell into comfortable conversation, and Grace and Natalie were catching up about Marcellos and Natalie’s job as the head caterer and right-hand of celebrity chef Terrance Waters at The Grand Mountain Hotel in Colorado.
By the time Jordan finally rose to head to the stadium, Ella was sitting on Natalie’s lap and cooing at her. Grace was laughing as Natalie droned on about professional football players’ fascination with fake breasts and butts. Blake was smiling indulgently, his arm slung over the back of his wife’s chair.
“I need to go,” he said, giving Grace a kiss on the cheek. “Love you.”
“Have a great game tomorrow since I won’t see you,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Love you too.”
Jordan sank down until he was eye-level with Ella, who was leaning back against Natalie’s chest. “And you, sweetheart. You root especially hard for Daddy tomorrow.”
Blake shook his hand, and they shared a look that spoke of mutual understanding.
“Play your game,” Blake said, echoing the words of Coach Garretty.
* * *
When Jordan called in reinforcements, he didn’t scrimp. Grace had always enjoyed his Once Upon a Dare brothers, and Natalie was a gift from heaven. Her wisecracks about the hype around professional football were enough to put a stitch in Grace’s side—and they made her feel like she wasn’t the only one the press had picked on.
On the drive to the game the next day, Natalie told her story after story about the myriad ways in which the press had made her life difficult, and Grace knew she was doing it to make her feel better. It still worked.
They picked up Carlo on the way to the game, and by the time they all made their way up to the owner’s box, Grace felt some of that Midwestern grit her mother had reminded her she had. Jordan had gone to great trouble to support her, and his efforts helped fortify her courage all the more.
Of course, Carlo’s promise that he’d grab one of the knives from the buffet and filet anyone who so much as made a wrong move toward her bolstered her spirits too, especially when Natalie said she would join him. Her colleague and Natalie had hit it off, talking about foodie stuff, and it felt good to see her world and Jordan’s unite in this new way.
“You’re going to do fine, Grace,” Blake said as they walked into the box. “If you need any of us to step in, just say the word. I wouldn’t mind kicking someone’s butt on national TV.”
Natalie threaded their arms together. “Smile and remember: the people in this box know they need to be nice to you. You’re Jordan’s, and they want to keep him happy.”
Right. She just hated that their reception of her was more based on Jordan than on any interest in her.
“Grace!” she heard a man call out, and looked over to see the Rebels’ owner himself, Chaz Hallowfield, parting the crowd to reach them. “And you brought friends. Blake Cunningham. Good to have a great quarterback in our midst. And Natalie. Jordan has said wonderful things about you.”
“I’ll bet,” Natalie said dryly.
Chaz laughed, the wrinkles around his eyes growing more pronounced. “And Carlo Medzioni,” Chaz continued, surprising Grace with how well he’d memorized the names Jordan must have given him. “I’m a big fan of Marcellos.”
As Grace recalled, Chaz was over fifty and had inherited his money from a family fortune in oil and real estate. Married more than once, he was an unapologetic Southerner who could be both charming and ruthless. She’d never trusted him.
“How is that beautiful little girl of yours and Jordan’s?” he asked, showing her his dentist-white teeth. “My wife and I keep hoping we’ll get the chance to meet her and welcome her into the Rebels’ family. Everyone is so eager to share in your good fortune. Including the fans.”
Grace didn’t believe he was the least bit sincere, and neither did Natalie from the way she locked their arms together even more securely.
“Our daughter is still pretty young,” Grace replied. “There will be plenty enough time for that.”
Grace had a feeling that if the owner thought it would make Jordan happy, he’d host a lavish first birthday party for Ella when the time came. No way was she allowing this man to get his hands on her daughter for PR.
“I’m sure she’s the sweetest thing,” Chaz said, “but none of us have seen so much as a photo of your daughter. Jordan has been incredibly tight-lipped about her despite how much the Rebels’ fans want to celebrate with him.”
There it was again. From her earlier interactions with Chaz, she remembered him circling back to points when they hadn’t originally gone his way.
“Since we all know Jordan isn’t usually tight-lipped,” Blake said with what Grace thought was an equally fake smile, “we should respect his wishes. He’s got good instincts about things. So does Grace, by the way.”
She gave him a smile. “Thanks.”
Chaz raised his hand in the air. “Of course Jordan does. He came to Atlanta, after all, and he chose Grace here. Any man could see he has good taste. I’m sure Grace has good instincts too. She’s a successful chef in her own right.”
The man’s pandering was going to drive Grace crazy. “Perhaps you could tell us where we’re sitting, Chaz. I’d like to make sure we’re settled before the game starts.”
“Goodness me,” Chaz said with extra Southern charm. “Get some grub first. Jordan asked me to put y’all in the back, as far away from the press as possible. Of course, it would be lovely if you would show your face a little, Grace. Especially since you and Jordan are back together.” There was a feral gleam in his eye as he said it.
“I’m here to support Jordan,” she told him pointedly. “Not to give the press a story.”
“Coming here to support Jordan after you broke up with him and had his baby is a heck of a story, honey,” Chaz said, his tone patronizing enough to put Grace’s teeth on edge. “Don’t kid yourself.”
Blake put his hand on Grace’s back. “I’m not used to being in the box during a game or enjoying all the food and drink you guys supply. Since Grace is the accomplished chef here, I hope you don’t mind if I borrow her so she can help me pick the right things to try.”
As a retreat, Blake’s play was a smart one, and from the way Chaz smiled at him, the owner seemed to know it.
“Try the lobster, Blake,” Chaz said, gesturing to the buffet. “It’s delicious today. I found a new chef. You might know him, Grace. Simon Querald.”
Was he trying to remind her that her kind of people made the food for shindigs like this? “I don’t think Simon and I have crossed paths.”
“There are a lot of chefs out there, Mr. Hallowfield,” Carlo said.
/> “I know you have many demands on your attention, Chaz,” Blake said. “If we don’t have a chance to chat with you again, I hope you enjoy the game.”
He cocked his brow. “Y’all as well. Make yourselves at home and holler if you need anything.”
Natalie steered Grace toward the bar. “Please tell me you’re drinking at least a little while you’re nursing. I’ll need a Manhattan after that exchange. Good heavens is he full of himself.”
“Red wine,” Grace said, wanting to crack the tension in her neck. “And yes, he’s a pill. Always has been.”
“Good job,” Blake said as they approached the bar. “You held up. That’s all anyone could ask.”
“Some of the owners act like they’re gods,” Natalie said, ordering Grace a glass of red from the bartender. “Chaz is clearly one of them. I’m glad Mr. Farnsworth isn’t like that. He’s the owner of Blake’s former team, the Denver Raiders.”
“That guy is a jackass,” Blake said, patting her on the back.
“A testa di cazzo,” Carlo agreed.
“I hope it doesn’t offend you if I say how much I adore hearing you speak,” Natalie purred, waggling her eyebrows at Blake. “Sue me.”
“But Chaz knows how to run an organization,” Blake said, waggling his eye brows right back at her, “which is why he’s well regarded. Let’s set him aside. Grace, are you okay?”
She took her wine and drank. Then she drank again. “I’m handling it.”
“Good,” Blake said, taking the bourbon he’d ordered from the bartender. “Let’s settle in and do what we came to do. Watch Jordan win a heck of a game between two undefeateds. He’s already knocked Baltimore down. I’m ready to see him do it again with this team.”
They found their seats in the box. When Jordan ran onto the field with the team, Grace’s heart swelled at the sight of him in his red jersey. He looked up at the box and blew a kiss.
This was why she was here.
Chapter 24
Losing sucked.
Jordan hated it when his team lost a game, but he especially hated it when he was the one who had blown it. How had he not seen the defensive lineman waiting for him to pass the ball to his wide receiver? He’d thrown an interception, which had resulted in a touchdown for the other team. That score had put the competition ahead of the Rebels with less than a minute remaining on the clock. He hadn’t been able to pull a rabbit out of the hat and score before the seconds ran out.
He wanted to throw things. He wanted to curse. Instead he apologized to the team, and they all responded by slapping him on the back and telling him it was okay. But it wasn’t. They were no longer undefeated anymore.
It was even suckier that Grace had been in attendance for the first time in more than a year—along with Blake and Natalie. He hated losing in front of his family.
He needed to go home and close himself off. Watch the play again and try to understand how he hadn’t seen it. He wasn’t making that mistake again. Coach said they’d deal with it in practice in the morning, and they would. He and the offensive coordinators would break down everything. It was a bitch having your every mistake picked apart, but that’s what made it football. He’d chosen to play a game where someone lost and someone won, where someone was perfect and someone wasn’t.
He hadn’t been perfect today.
The after-game interviews were a bitch, with everyone asking him how he felt now that the Rebels were no longer undefeated. The reporters were morons sometimes. How did they think he felt? But he got through the interviews and said all the right things, that it was his fault and he’d do better in the next game.
By the time he drove home, he was at once pissed and weary.
He parked at his old house after deciding to give himself some extra time before heading down to Grace’s. She never knew how to approach him after a loss. He didn’t see that changing. Usually he slept on the couch after watching his mistakes.
But he wanted to say goodnight to Ella—even if she was already asleep. And he still needed to talk to Blake and Natalie, especially since they were leaving in the morning.
He walked into his old house and found Blake drinking a beer in the kitchen. Natalie was nowhere in sight. It was obvious his buddy had been waiting for him.
“Hey,” he said heavily. “Sorry you came all this way to see me blow an undefeated season.”
Blake crossed his arms. “I didn’t see it coming either. I would have thrown that pass. A few of the guys texted me and said the same. I won’t tell you not to beat yourself up, but that lineman just made a sweet-ass play. I’ll bet he makes it into the Pro Bowl this year.”
Yeah, DeThomas was one of the top defensive linemen in the league, but still…
“Thanks for saying that. I fucking hate to lose.” He kicked the kitchen island for good measure.
“Good thing you don’t make a habit of it,” Blake said, coming over and smacking him on the back. “Let the loss make the team stronger. You know how Coach Garretty always said losses can be blessings in disguise.”
“Yeah, I know that too,” Jordan said, hanging his head. “I always hated it when Coach said that.”
“But it’s true,” Blake said, rubbing Jordan’s shoulder, which was aching from all the passes he’d thrown in the game—a record number. “You just need to punch something and work it out. You can wallow with Brody. Sam kicked his butt today.”
Sucked for Brody. “I didn’t see the score. What was it?”
“Pretty big margin after all the hype,” Blake said. “31-17.”
“Ouch.” Brody would be throwing things for sure. “At least he wasn’t the one to lose the game.”
Blake cringed. “He had three interceptions, Jordan. Washington’s defense shredded him.”
Okay, that really sucked. “On to better topics. How did things go with Grace?”
His friend shrugged. “Chaz is a piece of work, but she stood her ground. He was pushing her about releasing a picture of Ella to the press. She deflected things well, but she’s still not super comfortable with all the stares and interest. We pretty much stayed in our seats the whole time. Once the game started, she relaxed a little. Halftime sucked since there was mingling. You know how it is.”
“Yeah,” he said, wondering how she was faring now.
“She was super upset at the end of the game when you…you know,” Blake said. “There might have been some hair pulling—not that she has much anymore.”
It was nice to hear that Grace had gotten into it. She did like football. She just didn’t like what it entailed for him now. “Did anyone rag her about my interception after the game?”
Blake’s frown was colossal, and Jordan narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Please tell me no one suggested I threw that interception because she was in attendance for the first time this season.”
“You know how it is. People want to blame someone.”
“Fucking great!” he said, crossing to the Sub-Zero and pulling out a sparkling water. “I’m trying to build up our family, and everyone outside of it is doing their damn best to undermine it.”
“She loves you, man,” Blake said with a sigh. “Give her time. That sort of thing takes a lot out of a person. She’s too nice sometimes, and that’s what makes her so special. But she’s an easy target because she doesn’t fight back. Natalie has sharper teeth.”
Yeah, and he didn’t know how to stop that. “Speaking of your wife, where is she?”
“Over at Grace’s place,” Blake said. “Natalie knows what it’s like to deal with one of us after a loss. She wanted to give you a little space.”
Yeah, that’s usually what he needed, but now there was Ella to consider. He wasn’t going to miss saying goodnight to his little girl just because he had a really shitty game. Even if she was asleep already.
“Head on down to see Grace and Ella,” Blake said. “I don’t want to see you back here tonight—even if you’re pissed. I’ll see you before Natalie and I take off in the morni
ng.”
After another man-hug with Blake, Jordan headed to Grace’s house. When he reached the yellow gate, he realized it was the first time he’d used it since their reconciliation. He hoped he wouldn’t be using it much longer. In fact, he wanted to tear it off the hinges right about now.
Since he respected girl time, he opened the front door and called out softly, “Man approaching.” Walking slowly to the den, he peeked around the corner. “Everyone decent?”
“Like I’d be waiting in something scandalous for you,” Natalie said, rising from her place beside Grace on the couch. “Sorry about the loss, Jordan. That was tough. DeThomas came out of nowhere.”
His eyes locked with Grace’s. “Yeah, tough. I know Ella’s out, but I’m going up to see her.”
“I’m going to head back to my hubby,” Natalie said. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” She walked over and gave Jordan a bear hug. “I hope you shake it off.”
Grace still hadn’t said a word, so after giving her another long look, he headed up the stairs. Ella was sleeping peacefully when he went into the nursery. He watched her for a while, struggling to repress the image of his opponent scoring the game-winning touchdown. Realizing he was gripping the rungs of the crib, he detoured back downstairs.
Grace was still sitting on the sofa with her hands clenched. “I’m sorry about the loss, Jordan.”
He remained where he was—near the edge of the room. “Me too.”
“I was just telling Natalie I never know what to say to you to help after you lose a game.” She bit her lip. “She told me she used to feel the same way whenever Blake lost.”
Did she really want to talk right now? He wanted to either punch something or spend the whole night watching replays. Anything to ensure it didn’t happen again. “There’s really nothing to say. I threw a pick. I cost us the game. I might have cost us the Super Bowl.”
