Matt Peterson
If he touches you, he’s a dead man. I will rip every one of his dreads out by the root. Tell him that.
I will not.
As they got to Matt’s car—a pretty sweet convertible even she had to admit—Matt pulled his phone out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, then laughed. The sound echoed off the cement block walls of the garage.
“What?”
He opened the door for her, watched her slide in, then leaned down. “Your man… is toast. He threatened to castrate me if I even considered touching you.”
“Well that’s rude,” she said.
“No, honey, that’s a man who knows what he wants and is willing to protect it. Don’t forget, protecting someone is his career. He’s gonna be damn good at it when it comes to something he wants.”
He shut the door gently, which was a good thing, because she couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Chapter 20
“Goddamn Peterson,” Michael muttered as he let himself into Stephen’s house. For the team, for friends, for brothers, Stephen had an open-door policy. His house was large, which worked because Stephen had a large personality. But it was just him and Mags rattling around in there. Made Michael realize he didn’t want a minimansion when he finally took the plunge and bought a place. Something small, at least at first, would do better. Josh Leeman had the right idea, buying a place to fix up. He’d have to start nudging the backup quarterback for some house-hunting tips.
The object of his annoyance was standing in the kitchen, rooting through Stephen’s fridge. “Did you say tomatoes and onions or tomatoes and olives?” Matt asked, then looked over his shoulder. “Oh, you’re not Trey.”
“No, I’m not.”
Matt’s smile grew wider as he took in Michael’s admittedly defensive stance and scowl. “Problem?”
“You know what my problem is.”
Matt shut the fridge door with his hip, holding a plate in each hand with sliced tomatoes and onions. “I’m guessing you don’t like that I gave your project a ride out here.”
“Don’t call her that,” he snapped, grabbing one of the plates from him before turning to walk toward the noise.
“Yeah, okay then,” Matt said quietly from behind him, just before they entered the screened-in back porch. Louder, he added, “Look who I found.”
There was a round of hellos from the guys, and two audible gasps from Mags and Cassie. Cassie stood and rushed over to him, her hand hovering an inch above his eye. “What happened?”
“Hell, Cass, it’s just a black eye,” Trey muttered. “Give the guy some breathing room.”
“You hush,” she said to her husband. For Michael, “Do you want an ice pack?”
“I can get some ice,” Mags offered, standing. Stephen just grabbed her and pulled her down onto his lap, one large arm wrapping around her waist like a seat belt.
“He’s fine. Leave the man some pride,” Stephen said. Mags wiggled on his lap, and he bit her shoulder gently.
Michael fought not to gag. Carefully nudging Cassie’s hand aside, he leaned in and pecked her cheek. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“Did that happen at practice today?” she asked, retreating to her seat beside Trey. Her husband automatically lifted his arm to wrap around the back of her chair.
“No, before. I’d rather not talk about it.” He sat in the only available seat left, which was between Mags’s empty chair and Josiah. Kat sat directly across from him, and he met her eyes for the first time since walking in. “Just a random thing.”
“He’s being nice,” Kat said, holding his eye contact. “He doesn’t want to admit he got it from me hitting him.”
Dead silence met this announcement, which was saying something for this group.
“With a tennis ball,” she added. Several aahs sounded, as if that made complete sense.
“You know, they use this thing called a racket in tennis.” Matt grasped the platter of burgers handed to him by Kat, then looked at Mags. “None of these is vegetarian this time, right?”
“You give a guy a black bean burger once on accident…,” Mags said, exasperated. Then she smiled. “They’re all fully animal fatty and delicious.”
“It was a traumatizing experience,” Peterson insisted.
“So you were playing tennis… with Kat?” Cassie asked, looking between them.
“Sort of.” Michael watched as Kat’s neck and face flushed. She wouldn’t look up now. “I happened to be there just as her coach needed a live target. Apparently, Kat works better aiming at flesh than a cone.”
“My kinda girl,” Stephen said, holding up his water glass in a toast.
Kat smiled at him at the head of the table, Mags still in his lap. “It was an accident, seriously. He should have ducked, but he got distracted. It was my coach’s fault more than anyone’s. I just feel bad about the game this weekend.”
“It’ll make for a fun press time in the locker room.” Trey grinned. “We should use the flight out to make up some awesome story about how you got it.”
“Saving a litter of puppies from a burning building,” Josiah suggested.
“No, nuns were being robbed at gunpoint,” Matt put in.
“Maybe he lifted a car off a trapped child,” Trey mused.
Michael sighed as the table erupted into laughter. Then he looked around and realized they were a smaller party than he anticipated. “You didn’t invite any of the rooks I mentioned?”
“We did. I just told them to come about, oh, twenty minutes from now. There’s plenty of extra food,” Stephen added quickly. “We made triple the normal. Seriously, they’ll eat. We just wanted a little time with you guys first.”
“Aww.” Cassie smiled warmly down the table. “That’s sweet.”
Michael and Matt both made gagging noises at the same time. Kat rolled her eyes, but he caught the smile she tried to hide behind her napkin.
“Any particular reason?” Josiah asked, spooning some potato salad onto his plate.
Mags and Stephen started speaking at the same time, then both stopped and grinned at each other.
Matt coughed.
“You,” Mags said softly, nudging Stephen’s shoulder with hers. Then she settled back against his chest, clearly content to remain on his lap.
“We wanted you guys to all know before anyone else. Well, anyone else outside my mom and sisters.” Stephen wrapped a hand around Mags’s waist again. “We’re getting married.”
There was that dead silence again. Just for a beat. Then Cassie squealed, the sound practically inhuman, and leapt out of her chair to dash around. “Let me see! Let me seeeeeee!” She reached for Mags’s hand, only to stop short when it was found to be devoid of an engagement ring. “Stephen! You didn’t get this girl a ring?”
“No, but that’s probably because she wasn’t ready for one.” Stephen’s voice was amused. “Sit down, Cass, we’re not quite finished.”
“You better have details to make up for the lack of pretty shiny,” Cassie warned, sitting back beside Trey, who looked amused by his wife’s threat toward one of their best linemen.
“Wedding details? Sure.” Stephen nudged Mags gently. She turned and pressed a kiss to his temple.
Matt and Michael made gagging noises again because it was expected. Kat scowled at him in a way that asked, what is your deal?
Just kidding, he mouthed.
She rolled her eyes, but he saw her lips twitch.
“We’re getting married on Monday after your next home game.” Mags smiled a little when Josiah dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clang. “We’re just doing it here, at the house. Nothing fancy. His mom and sisters were already planning to make the trek out to see the game, and it seemed so perfect…”
“You mean, no big wedding to plan?” Cassie gripped the edge of the table with white fingertips. “No rounds with the florist, no poofy dresses that get caught on everything, no cake testing or catering confusion?”
> Mags grinned. “Nope.”
“Genius.” Cassie flopped back in her seat, looking up at Trey in amazement. “Why didn’t we—”
“Because your father would have killed us,” Trey reminded her, pecking her nose to quiet her.
“It’s sudden though,” Matt said. “Not that I’m not happy for y’all. Seriously. Just curious why the rush, instead of waiting until after season.”
“Because in a few more months I won’t fit into any dresses I like.” Mags said it so calmly before taking a dainty bite of her salad that Michael wasn’t even sure he’d heard it correctly.
But he only had to look at Stephen’s face to know he had. The man looked like he’d swallowed the fucking sun, he was so bright. Joy was actually seeping out of his pores.
“Holy shit,” Josiah whispered, sitting back.
“Clarify, please?” Trey asked.
Cassie bounced in her seat, silently clapping her hands together. It was like her butt was doing a dance, rocking her side by side.
Kat just looked around, shrugging and eating her potato salad.
“We’re pregnant.”
Cassie nearly flipped the table over as she jumped up on another eardrum-piercing squeal, running over to throw her arms around the happy couple. They all laughed, watching the mayhem unfold.
After a moment, the guys all stood to give Stephen and Mags hugs. As Michael stepped back from hugging Mags, he noticed Trey and Stephen talking in a low voice. Then Trey nodded and walked back to stand beside Cassie.
“We’re good,” Stephen said over the din of noise. “I know people are worried, with all the changes coming up, if I’m okay. I’m doing fine. Seriously. This one keeps me on a short leash.” He wrapped his arms around Mags and pulled her against him. She leaned into his embrace with the ease of practice. “And I’m in constant contact with my sponsor. I go to all my AA meetings. It’s all good, promise.”
There was a noticeable sign of relief among the friends, all of whom had his—their—best interest at heart. Sobriety was a tricky thing, they’d learned, in watching him fight like hell through rehab and climbing back up after a massive weight loss. To see him so happy, with love and a family on the way…
It was encouraging.
He realized a minute too late that Kat must be feeling left out, not having met anyone in the party before then. Glancing back at the table, he found her watching her plate, not upset, but a little removed from the celebration. He went and sat beside her.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” She looked up then, smiling toward the expecting couple. “They look happy.”
“They are.” He let out a long breath. “It was a rocky road to get there, but they’re disgustingly happy. They deserve it.”
“Good people should be happy.”
She said it wistfully, and he wondered if she were thinking about herself, or someone else.
Then the doorbell rang, and everyone jumped in surprise.
“Rookies are here,” Michael announced, standing to answer the door. “No more pregnancy or wedding talk for now.”
“I’ll come with you,” Kat said, leaving her chair to walk with him. She leaned into his shoulder just a little, and he wrapped his arm around her as they approached the door.
It was like a family. A loud, totally mismatched, beloved family. Kat observed quietly for a while, silently putting each family member in their place.
Trey was undoubtedly the patriarch, in large part, she assumed, because of his leadership on the field. But he led so effortlessly that it wasn’t so much that the team followed blindly out of obedience, but out of a desire to impress. To gain approval. To gain his respect. When Trey spoke, everyone else quieted down to listen, even the veterans.
Cassie, his wife, seemed comfortable in her role as team matriarch. Definitely not due to age or because her father was their coach, but due to love. Trey put her on a pedestal, and others followed suit. But she’d earned their respect and devotion while on that pedestal, with loyalty and friendship. The team members revered her, and Mags clearly looked to her for guidance in this crazy world of professional football.
Josiah and Michael were the calm, adult presence. Michael took a lot of responsibility for the well-being of his teammates on his own shoulders, but it was clear the rookies looked up to both of them, and when they spoke, it was heard.
Stephen was the fun uncle everyone adored and went to for a good laugh. Mags, though Kat struggled a little to get a read on her—probably because she seemed so tired, likely due to the pregnancy—was a calming influence on him, though she could tell the man could still cut it up.
Matt was the younger brother who still drove his car a little too fast, flashed a little too much bling, and liked to pretend the world revolved around him… but had the soft heart to make him likable despite it.
And the rookies…
Oh, the babies.
More like toddlers. Mischievous toddlers. They were louder, raising the decibel level of the gathering tenfold, though there were only three of them. And while they respected Trey as their leader, she watched them give Michael their undivided attention. His was the approval they wanted most.
Safety Ian McAllister, whom everyone called Scotch thanks to his name and rust-colored hair. Though he denied having any Scottish blood, with a name like McAllister it was hard to believe. And more than once, the men would tease him using a rolling brogue. Mags teased he could have been an extra in the Outlander series. He looked unamused but took the ribbing without fuss.
Christopher Minikowski—aka Mini, though he was anything but small—hailed from Michigan and had no problem telling her his entire life story in under three minutes. He was an extremely personable guy with the sort of perma-tanned skin that spoke of an eclectic racial background.
Cooper Bryan, wide receiver, was the most quiet of the trio. His dark hair and dark eyes lent him a brooding, dangerous sort of look, but the guys called him Ivy League when they wanted to push his buttons. He was the only one among them—maybe on the entire team?—who had attended an Ivy League university. And done well, it seemed.
As the meal progressed, she watched how each of the young players verbally sparred for Michael’s attention. They were like the triplet baby brothers, desperate for older brother’s love and affection. Each dying to be The One he noticed more than the others. It was… adorable. They clearly worshipped him.
After some initial jockeying and playing around with the seating configuration, they were seated and serving themselves family style at the table. It was noisy and messy and a little confusing.
Kat loved it.
“And then,” Mini said, laughing, “I had to meet the chick five freaking minutes after being submerged in the ice bath. And she’s wondering why I’m struggling to…” He cut himself off, looking at the mixed company, then coughing. “Uh, yeah. Anyway.”
“Nice,” Michael said, reaching around to slap him on the back of the head. “Think about the story before you run it through.”
“Yes, sir,” he muttered, looking at his salad.
There was a moment of silence, then a chair scraped back suddenly, jostling the table. Mags stood and looked at Stephen with something akin to fear in her eyes, lips pursed together so tightly they were white. Then she quickly walked out of the room. Stephen followed hot on her heels without a word.
Morning sickness was Kat’s best guess. But everyone sat there sort of awkwardly. She could tell the rookies wanted to ask but weren’t sure if they should. And nobody else who had been there to hear the pregnancy announcement would reveal the couple’s secret before they were ready.
“Is she… okay?” Ian asked after a few minutes. “Should someone go check on her?”
“I have perma-THO after an ice bath,” Kat said calmly, taking a bite of her macaroni salad. “It hurts like hell.”
When she glanced up, she saw several pairs of eyes staring at her in surprise. She set her fork down. “What? Like you guys don’t know
what THO is.”
“Yeah, we know what it is,” Josiah said slowly in that Southern drawl of his. “We just never expected to hear it at the dinner table.”
Kat smiled sweetly and took a sip of her tea. “I’m sorry, I thought we were comparing ice bath war stories. Mini was referencing his genitals. I didn’t think bringing nipples into the conversation would be that much of a difference.”
“I like her,” Mini said suddenly.
And just like that, Mags and her quick exit were forgotten. She started comparing favorite brands of menthol creams and ankle-taping methods. Best methods to get a more explosive start on quick turns. Which sports recovery drink they favored the taste of—and which were just disgusting but sadly effective. Whether using chocolate milk as a postworkout recovery drink was scientifically sound or bullshit.
At some point in the conversation, Stephen and Mags slipped back in, all but unnoticed except for Michael and Kat, who were watching for her. She leaned into Stephen’s embrace but looked stronger now. Better. Less likely to keel over without notice. Not that Stephen would let it happen; he had his arm so tightly wrapped around his fiancée she wasn’t going anywhere.
Trey had interesting ideas on physical therapy, having just returned to the active roster list after an ankle injury. Stephen was a walking encyclopedia on diet and nutrition for maximum muscle gain and strength conditioning. Josiah had the most fascinating ideas on the best equipment that was both performance-enhancing and environmentally friendly. Matt had some good recommendations for gyms in the area that catered to high-performance athletes… probably too expensive for her budget, but she appreciated the thought.
Michael, however, was oddly quiet during the conversation.
“I have to say, this might be the first time I ever sat around talking about workout tips with a hot woman before.” Ian sat back as dessert—a peach cobbler that looked sinfully good, topped with vanilla ice cream—was passed around.
Michael made a sound in his throat but said nothing.
“Idiot,” Cooper muttered as he stabbed into his cobbler.
“What?” Ian glanced over toward Coop, which forced him to look toward Michael, which had him turning beet red and stuttering out, “I mean, it’s just not… sorry,” he finished, hanging his head low enough his nose was practically dipped in his ice cream.
Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats) Page 21
