At first, we were just planning a courthouse wedding with a simple reception dinner afterwards. We knew that traditional weddings cost quite a bit of money and we would rather save that same amount of money for James’ college fund instead. But joining Whitney and Harlow began to seem like a good compromise— a way to have a nice wedding without spending a ton of money.
And as my brother and I stand waiting for our brides before our shared and separate guests— with a spot for Jensen at our side as joint best man, and Monica’s two living brothers lined up next to him— I realize that there’s a deeper meaning to our joint wedding. Harlow, and Jensen and I grew up together, survived everything that happened with our parents’ tumultuous marriage together, fought alongside each other, and survived Harlow’s helicopter crash together.
It’s only fitting that Harlow and I should get married together, with Jensen having led the way not too long ago.
I move off to the side so that I can play the guitar. Monica and I have added quite a few more songs to our soundtrack in the year since I’ve been back. Guns N’ Roses’ “Sweet Child of Mine, Frank Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” and Joan Osbourne’s “Righteous Love” top the list.
Jensen ushers our mother down the aisle, which is fitting, since she’s still living with him and Riley. I don’t know how they managed to handle her, but she’s doing quite well. She’s on medication for mild dementia and she has stopped drinking completely.
I think about what would have happened had I not listened to Monica, way back when I first met her, and started putting myself first. I would have insisted my mom move into a facility— which she claims she would have run away from, and I wouldn’t put it past her— and then taken her back to live with me when I got home.
We’d be stuck in a cycle of dysfunction and she’d likely never have made such a good recovery as she’s been able to have with Jensen— who has always been better at separating himself from her issues than I have been.
Monica’s brother ushers her mother, who has made the trip to Albuquerque and has flown without Monica’s father for the first time since he fell ill. I know she is so happy to be able to have her mom here, to see where we live and what our life is like.
When the groomsmen have returned to their spots next to Harlow, I switch songs so that that the bridesmaids can walk down the aisle. Riley, a joint bridesmaid for both brides, starts the procession. She winks at Harlow as she carries the blue and white flowers that Whitney and Monica decided on— in honor of both my father James, and our son James. Then she winks at Jensen, and me.
Trish is here from Monica’s hometown in Minnesota, as her bridesmaid. Whitney’s good friend and former boss, Lance, is serving as her man of honor. And then Susan, Monica’s maid of honor, walks down the aisle. Hanging from her bouquet is a framed photo of her husband, Monica’s brother Mark.
Next come the flower girl and ring bearer— Monica’s niece Becky and nephew Mason. I’m about to become their uncle. They’re each pulling a wagon that James is sitting in, in his handsome tuxedo, behind a sign that says, “Here come the brides!” Or at least they’re each supposed to have a hand on the wagon’s handle, while Becky is supposed to be carrying a basket of flower petals, but she lets go and throws them everywhere while dancing around and announcing, “This is for my Aunt Monica! And for Whitney!”
Little Mason does his best to tug James’ wagon on his own, while everyone in the audience laughs. “Daddy!” James cries out, with his arms up, when he sees me, but Becky holds his hand and says, “Your daddy’s busy getting married! You have to stay here with me.”
Everyone laughs again, and I have to admit it’s definitely one of the cutest sights I’ve ever seen.
It’s Whitney’s turn to walk down the aisle, so I wait respectfully after cuing Cannon in D over the speaker system. Harlow starts to cry when he sees her, and she definitely looks stunning.
She joins him in front, and he takes her hand and mouths, “I love you.”
Then I move front and center and begin playing and singing my song for Monica as she walks down the aisle.
I… I am your king
And you… you are my queen
And nothing will drive us away
We can beat fate, day after day
I’ll be your hero
Just for one lifetime….
She smiles at the way I changed the lyrics to our song to match the occasion, but then tears spring to her eyes. I can’t help but start to cry myself, although I do my best to hold it back, so as to not mess up the song.
Monica is wearing a knee- length off- white dress and red heels. The frame dangling from her bouquet shows a photo of her father. Although he is still alive, he’s bedbound from his stroke and he suffers from a lot of cognitive problems. He’s here in spirit though, just like her brother Mark.
Monica’s face is radiant— she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
When she joins me in front of the arch, I pick up James from the wagon and hand him to her. As the officiant begins the ceremony, I’ve never been more certain of my lines.
I do, I do, I do. A thousand times over, I do.
Mid- reception, my brothers and I step outside to smoke a cigar.
“Congratulations, my brothers,” Jensen says, as he hands them out. “And this one’s for Dad.” He holds up a fourth cigar. “We’ll pass it around among us so that he can share it.”
“I think old Dad would be pretty proud of us,” Harlow says.
“If he’d even believe it!” I agree. “Can you imagine how many times he would have heard us say we’re never getting married, never settling down.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if he really would have believed us,” Jensen says. “He knew that us Bradford boys put on a tough act, but once we met the right women, we turned into total softies.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself,” Harlow says. “I’m the only one of us still planning to stay in the military. That’s one area of my life that I’ve managed to keep for myself.”
“You might not find civilian life too bad,” says Jensen. “Maybe you should think about joining us.”
“I have to admit I’ve thought about it,” Harlow says, with an unabashed shrug. “That card is probably in my future, but I’m just putting up a good fight for a while first.”
We all laugh.
“Seriously, though,” Harlow adds. “Dad would be proud, and as I’ve gotten older I’ve become more and more proud of Dad, and what he taught us. I know he’d love to be here today, to see all three of his sons married and happy, and his first grandson growing up right before his eyes.”
“On that note, there’s something I should tell you guys,” Jensen says, and Harlow and I look at each other in shock, and then at him. “Riley doesn’t want to take the limelight off of you guys and your wedding, so we were supposed to wait to announce this, but I want you two to be the first to know, and right now feels like the best time to tell you.”
“Oh my god,” says Harlow. “I’m going to be the last one. I guess that’s fitting, since I’m the youngest.”
“That’s right,” says Jensen. “Riley’s pregnant. James is going to have his first cousin on the Bradford side in about seven months.”
He looks so proud and happy that I have to hug him. Harlow does too.
“Congratulations! That’s awesome,” we say.
“Can you guys please let me out of this bear hug so I can light this other cigar?” Jensen complains. “The least you could do is not smother me so that we can have a celebratory cigar in honor of my baby- to- be, and in honor of both of your weddings.”
“To your baby- to- be,” I say, and step back to take a drag of my cigar.
I imagine James and Jensen’s child playing together. Family picnics. Birthday celebrations.
I can’t believe the life I never knew I wanted is turning out so wonderfully. All thanks to Monica, to my dad, and to these two guys right here.
“And to u
s,” Harlow adds, as if reading my mind. “Brothers through thick and thin.”
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Sneak Peek into Out of Bounds: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
She's untouchable. But I'll touch whatever I f*cking want.
WESLEY:
I've f*cked up more than once, but I'm Wesley Reynolds-- the star quarterback everyone loves. Women fall at my feet and the rules don't apply to me. I can do whatever the f*ck I want.
Or at least that's the way it used to be. Now I'm on f*cking probation in a new town at a new college.
When I moved to Calton and started playing football for the Wildcats under Coach Thompson, everyone--including the coach himself-- told me his daughter Chelsea was off limits. And due to my troubled past, I have to stay in the coach's good graces for the one season I'm on his team, or risk losing my football career for good.
Chelsea's shaking those hips every day, taunting me. They say she's innocent and inexperienced, but she bats those gorgeous blue eyes at me like she wants me to rock her world. Her perfect curves look sinfully delicious under that short cheerleading skirt and they tempt me to risk it all.
I've never been good at following the rules. And now I've got to make a bold, dirty play.
Because when I want something, I f*cking take it.
CHELSEA:
Everyone's father is strict, but mine? I'm unlucky enough to be the football coach's daughter. He penalizes his players for an out of bounds play if they so much as look at me the wrong way.
Until recently, that's been fine by me. I've had to work twice as hard to prove myself since everyone assumes I'm only the head cheerleader for the Calton Wildcats because of my dad's influence. I've lead my squad to a State conference victory and this year Nationals is within reach. I don't need the distraction of dating dumb jocks to get in the way of my goals.
But the minute that Wesley Reynolds walks onto the field, I can't get his hard, lean, tattooed muscles out of my mind. I know he's a player both on and off the field, and I've heard rumors that he takes the word "heartbreaker" to a whole new level.
I also know that he's only in town for one football season but I just want to let loose and have a little fun for once.
I'm about to break Dad's rules for the first time ever.
I'll let Wesley make a pass at me, but I won't let him run off with my heart.
* Out of Bounds is a full-length standalone novel with no cheating, no cliffhanger and a guaranteed Happily Ever After.
Click here to read Out of Bounds: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Or Continue for your free sneak peek excerpt!
Chapter 1 – Wesley
Damn it.
Midway through walk on try outs, I pull something in my leg.
I’m jumping back into football too soon, too hard, after too much time being away from the field.
A stupid, avoidable injury like this is the reason I should have been practicing all summer.
Except I thought I wasn’t going to get to play.
Scratch that.
I didn’t just think I wasn’t going to get to play, but I was pretty damn sure of it. Since that’s what the Powers That Be had informed me when they not so nicely dismissed me from Huningdale University and from the Warriors football team I had led to victory during my first season as its quarterback.
“Run through it, run through it, run through it!” Coach Thompson bellows at me now.
If only his players were as strong as his lungs.
I can’t believe I’m trying out for such a shitty football team. The Calton Wildcats haven’t won a game in ages.
Or at least I’m pretending to try out. Even suffering from a slight injury, I’m clearly better than every player who was on the team last season and everyone else who is trying to make the team this season.
We all know I’m a shoe in. A deal’s been worked out and I’m already on the team; it’s just a question of whether I get to play or whether I’ll be benched for most or all of the season while I show I can behave when I’m off the field.
Even without the deal, though, I’d still be a sure bet to make the team. No one else comes close to my talent. To be blunt, I’m too good for this team. The Calton Wildcats are a joke compared to the Huningdale Warriors.
But thanks to the hot water I landed myself in back at my old school, it’s this team or nothing, or so I’ve been told.
I couldn’t believe it when they told me I could play at Calton, since it had been months since they’d told me I was a goner for good. I couldn’t believe I was getting a second chance. So now I put up with Coach Thompson shouting at me while I run a bunch of lame, easy drills just for show during walk on try outs for his subpar team.
He’s yards away, but it feels like he’s yelling right into my ear. I have to admit, he’s a menacing presence, with his large, overbearing figure and his red, puckered-up face.
I try to remind myself that his scary demeanor and raw anger probably come from losing too many games. And that I can fix that little problem for him.
I’ve never been afraid of a coach, but this one has the power to make or break what little is left of my college football career— and whatever lies beyond that.
I pick up the twisted stack of rags on the ground, as required by this drill, and keep running as fast as I can. I tell myself to forget about the pain in my leg, as well as this crazy coach’s screaming.
“Great job, Reynolds!” he yells, as I touch both lines on the field and finish strong in the drill. “Good explosive steps despite your previous hobbling around with whatever pussy footed injury you’ve given yourself. Keep going, keep going!”
Of course he’s impressed. I shouldn’t have worried, even for a second.
Now it’s time for the forty yard dash. I’ve done so many drills in a row today after a long time of not doing much at all. I really should give my out-of-practice leg a rest but I just keep running. And I end up finishing with the fastest time of anyone trying out, while not even breaking a sweat.
If it weren’t for my damn injury, it’d be a piece of cake. This try out is nothing compared to the warm ups my last coach put us through.
“That’s it, keep going, keep it up,” shouts Coach Thompson. “Next drill. Next drill!”
Now I touch orange cones as I run back and forth on the field. Mobility is a big deal and I know that coaches like to see it seamless— partly bum leg or not.
Coach Thompson nods his head with an obvious mixture of pride and amazement as I continue the drill. I know he’s happy he made the right decision by agreeing to allow me to play for Calton University despite my bad reputation.
There’s never been a football coach I couldn’t impress. Before I was the star quarterback of my last school, Huningdale University, I was the star quarterback of Piedmont High School. And before that, Piedmont Middle School.
And I was even the star of flag football, dating way back to my elementary school beginnings. It’s in my blood. In my genes. My father was almost as good of a quarterback as I am.
I know how to walk on to a team. Just like I know how to win football games. It’s what I do.
That, and fuck up, apparently.
Fuck up to the point of getting kicked off my good football team. And then needing my dad to pull strings so that my coach will strike a deal with another coach and allow me play on a shitty team for a season, to prove I can stay on the straight and narrow long enough to come back to my good football team.
“Awesome,” Coach Thompson shouts. “Last one. Keep going.”
I know I need to concentrate. Kiss this coach’s ass for giving me the chance to keep playing. Especially because he’s big and scary.
But I’m in the middle of completing the rope course when I see her.
The proverbial hot chee
rleader.
Yeah, there’s always a hot cheerleader. And I’ve had my full of them in the past— which is part of what got me in trouble at my last school.
They loved me until I moved on, and then they’d complain that I’d treated them badly. By breaking their hearts I guess. At Huningdale, I was told to find another dating pool to swim in, to avoid drama between the cheerleading team and the football team.
And I did, for the most part. There were plenty of other girls to fuck, many of whom came with less drama. I should have learned my lesson.
But this cheerleader is too impressive to ignore, no matter what life lessons I’ve learned and no matter what else I’m supposed to be doing at the moment— like not blowing my second chance to play football.
I keep my eyes on her as I hop over the ropes in my drill.
She’s leading a team of cheerleaders onto the field to start practicing as soon as our try outs are over. She’s bouncing around as if she owns the field, and them.
And she looks so fucking good as she’s doing it.
Blonde hair, curvy thighs peeking out from under a short skirt.
Tits peeking out from a low cut top, begging to be devoured.
Holy shit.
They weren’t kidding when they said the girls at Calton University were hot. The school’s football team and pretty much its entire athletic department leaves a lot to be desired— hence its willingness to take a chance on a damaged but talented player such as myself.
But the Calton ladies are well known for their looks. Especially the cheerleaders. And this one is the hottest I think I’ve ever seen.
I can feel my cock growing hard and I nearly trip.
Not a good time.
But damn, all I can think about is fucking her. I want to take her and bend her over and show how what a real athlete can do to her. How Wesley Reynolds, star quarterback, can make her feel. And I want to feel myself inside her.
Sold on St. Patrick's Day: A Virgin and a Billionaire Romance Page 50
