by Taylor Hart
The Betting Groom: Last Play Christmas Romances
A Legendary Kent Brother Romance
Taylor Hart
Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
The Risky Groom-by Carly Morgan
The Haunted Groom by Karly Stratford
Her Hollywood Fake Fiance: Christmas Romance Series
Married by Christmas—Prologue
Also by Taylor Hart
About the Author
Copyright
All rights reserved.
© 2018 ArchStone Ink
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.
First eBook Edition: 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Foreword
*Disclaimer*—Cameron Cruz from my book—The Football Groom—is getting another love story!
Just so you don’t worry!
Be watching for it!….Cause I love the guy!
It’s called—The Midnight Groom!…and it’s full of sadness and loss, but also hope and strength and compassion and joy!
Chapter 1
Will Kent, quarterback for the Denver Storm, looked around the Christmas charity event for Denver Memorial Children’s Hospital. He asked himself again why he’d flown back from Maui early. Oh yeah, because he had to play cupid for his idiot younger brother and leave him to his old high school flame.
Will pasted on a smile and scanned the room for his best friends and teammates, Dalton Ruff and Evan Cook. He’d texted them and they’d promised they would be here. All of his teammates were supposed to attend under mandate of the owner, Cameron Cruz. Mr. Cruz had been in a bad mood since last Christmas when he’d tragically lost his wife, so nobody wanted to mess with him.
The place was packed with all the who’s who in Denver’s high society, and Will wasn’t in the mood to play nice with people he considered fake. He really wasn’t in the mood to answer questions about his shoulder, but the whole team had received pressure to attend and put on a good face for the media. At this point, with his injury, Will needed to show up and look tough. Image was everything, and he would convince the world that he was better than fine—he was ready to play.
He gently massaged his injured shoulder, hating that it still ached at times. Especially when he was feeling stressed. Realizing what he was doing, he sucked in a breath and put his hand down. He weaved through the sea of people. Dang, he just had to get through this event, and then he’d go straight to San Diego to hang out with his brother, Zane, for Christmas week. Will was grateful that the league took Christmas week off.
He saw a flicker of a hand and noticed Dalton waving at him from the front table. Of course Dalton was at the front. Will beelined for the table.
“Excuse me, Mr. Kent?” Carson Grim, the Ken doll of the sports reporting world, cut in front of him with his camera guy in tow. “Word had it that you would be out of town for this event tonight. What do you have to say about the rumor going around that Roman Young might come out of retirement next year and take your position as starting quarterback?”
Will stumbled before bracing himself on a chair nearby. “What?”
“Mr. Kent?” Grim held the mic out to him. “What do you have to say about the possibility of being replaced?”
Will had walked on as a free agent three years ago after serving his time in the Navy, and he’d helped the Storm win the last two championships. For all intents and purposes, Cameron Cruz and Roman Young were tight. The replacement could happen if Will showed an ounce of weakness.
Will rose up, staring into the camera and taking the mic from Grim’s hand. “Listen up, Storm fans, I promise you this—we might be down and out, but what happens when a storm is at its worst? Lightning explodes from the sky and pain is brought to the earth.” Adrenaline surged through him, and he pointed at the camera. “I’m stronger than ever and ready to face whatever anyone can throw at us. I plan on playing next week against the Miami Surf, and I promise you I will bring the pain to Sam Dumont and the Surf.” He made an exploding motion with his hands. “Bam!”
The reporter let out a sardonic laugh. “Pardon me, Mr. Kent, but you seem defensive.”
Sharpened by the beady-eyed reporter’s words, Will felt his cool head slipping. Silence settled around him, just like when he’d served on his ship before an impending attack. Putting on a media smile, he narrowed his eyes at Mr. Barbie Doll himself. “You know, I would punch you out,” he said, flashing a smile at the camera, “because, as I tell the ladies, my hands could be classified as deadly weapons.” He shrugged and pretended to look modest. “The thing is, I wouldn’t want to damage that Ken doll jawline, now, would I?” He rubbed his own jaw mockingly.
Another rude laugh from the reporter. “Yes, good thing we don’t prosecute in this country for false threats.” He tapped Will’s shoulder a little too hard to be friendly. “I think we both know the real threat is that shoulder. I have a source who says you may not play the rest of the season.”
“Don’t touch me!” Will thundered, forgetting his media calm. Forgetting his cool head. Forgetting the place was packed. He yanked back his fist. “You shut your face, Grim!”
Grim nodded in satisfaction, like he was a cop and had just gotten the drug bust of the year.
Out of the blue, Evan strode up to Will’s right side, pulling his fist down. “Hold on there, Grim,” Evan said, flashing a media smile of his own. “Tonight’s a night to raise money for the children, not for this. Let’s focus on why we’re here.” Evan hated the media and hated coming to these events, too.
Dalton flanked Will’s other side. The wide receiver was fast, lean, and taller than most wide receivers, not to mention wicked smart—he loved sparring with the media. He tsked his tongue. “I didn’t think they were allowing the scum into this party.”
Chase Hawkins took up a position beside Dalton, crossing his arms. The running back was one of their older players, retiring after this season, but he was also tough as nails and always had Will’s back.
Leon Reyes also appeared, looking sharp in his perfectly cut tux with phone in hand. “Grim
, my least favorite reporter. Back off, or I’ll sic all of my Twitter fans on you. They’ve been bored today.”
Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Leon played amazing football—he was one of the best tight ends in the league—but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.
Grim smiled wider. “Keep talking, because you’re all still on camera.”
Evan let out a laugh. “I sure hope so,” he said, turning to Dalton. “What were you just telling me about that reporter you snapped pictures of after the Los Angeles game who was naked in the dressing room with Sheena Turner?”
Grim’s face reddened and he cursed, turning to the cameraman. “We’re going to have to cut that last part.”
Evan lifted his phone, and Will saw that he’d been recording. “Not going to make a difference. This will upload to Instagram the minute you roll any of this on TV or the internet.” He jerked his head toward Dalton. “Not to mention what’s on his phone.”
“Oh, this is good,” Leon said as he typed madly.
Grim looked, for lack of a better word, grim. He crossed his arms at the men in front of him. “Touché.”
Dalton gave a mock salute. “Stay away, Grim, and no one gets the real footage of you and Sheena I got on my phone.”
Grim cursed and nudged the camera guy away from them. “Let’s try over there.”
Will was dumbfounded as Grim walked away. He chuckled, and his friends laughed too. “I’m impressed, boys.”
Before any of them could react, Grim spun back and ripped Evan’s phone out of his hand. Grim’s cameraman easily snatched Dalton’s phone out of his hand, and Dalton chased him in hot pursuit.
“Oh, he did not …” Evan cursed as he and Chase took off after Grim.
Will started after the cameraman. Unfortunately, the camera guy threw the phone on the ground and stomped on it with his heel.
Just before Will dropped his shoulder and plowed the guy to the ground, he saw Evan doing the same thing to Grim. Will rolled, and Dalton pounced on top of the camera guy.
Around them, the crowd shouted. Sirens wailed in the distance, rapidly approaching. Pain flared through Will’s shoulder, and all he could think about was how he didn’t need this kind of press.
* * *
Will sat in a jail cell with Dalton, Evan, Leon, and Chase. It’d been ridiculous the way Grim and his cameraman had thrown accusations at them like they had been in the wrong. The lead cop had told Will they could come along quietly or he would cuff them. It was their choice.
So they’d gone quietly, knowing Cameron Cruz was going to put them in a world of pain for the bad press coverage tonight. For the last two hours they’d each made their calls to their attorneys and yelled insults at Grim and the other guy in the other cell over.
Now, they sat quietly. It’d gotten quiet once Grim and his cameraman had been sprung by their wives twenty minutes ago.
The dread of what had just happened and what it could mean to his career swooped over Will. He cursed. “I’m already on Cameron’s bad list, and now we have to add this to it.” He turned to Evan. “How long is Cameron supposed to be gone?”
Evan sat up from the bench he’d been lying down on and sighed. “He’s with his sister’s family on some cruise until the day before we play the Surf. He had to get out of Dodge after throwing that reporter to the ground a couple of weeks ago.”
They all fell silent. Cameron had been in a bad mental place the entire year. No one would dispute that losing his wife to a hit-and-run accident would be hard, but not being able to find the guy who did it would be even worse. It’d left Cameron erratic and angry most of the time.
Will shook his head. “I’m not going to be the one who talks to him first.”
Dalton leaned against the bars. “Shouldn’t we be out by now?”
Unnerved, Will stood from his seat on the cot. “Yeah, we should be out.” He moved next to Dalton. “It feels like we’ve been forgotten.”
Leon sat up and stretched. “I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t been forgotten.”
“Give it a rest, Leon.” Evan joined them at the bars.
Chase didn’t move. It was like he was in shock. The guy was known as the team preacher. Maybe he was praying for their souls.
More silence. More waiting. More thinking.
Ever since Will had taken the plane back from Maui, he’d been thinking about one thing. About one person. “Isn’t it funny that all of us called our attorneys for our one phone call?” he asked. Sad would have been a better word, but he didn’t want to kick his guys while they were down.
Evan frowned. “Who else do you call if you go to jail?”
Dalton gave him a grudging nod. “Yeah, man, we gotta get out.”
Will turned woodenly back to the bars. “I told you guys about my brother meeting up with a woman he hadn’t seen in ten years. A woman he never thought he’d see again.”
“Yeah.” Dalton crossed his arms. “How is this going to get us out of here?”
Will let out a soft laugh. “I … I’ve just been thinking about who that woman was for me, ya know?”
Evan nudged him. “Wait, hold on. Is Will Kent actually waxing nostalgic about a woman?”
“What about your ‘policy’?” Dalton made air quotes.
Will wasn’t proud of the fact his policy on dating this past year had been never to date the same woman twice. He haughtily tossed his head up. “Like you’re much better.”
Dalton put his hands up. “Hey, you won’t find me thinking about the woman who got away.”
Evan shuddered. “After what happened six months ago, I’ve steered clear of dating.”
“As it says in the first chapter of Genesis, ‘a man shall cleave unto his wife.’” Chase shook his head sadly. “Someday,” he added wistfully.
Leon snorted. “Someday nothing. If you want something, go and get it.”
Will thought for a moment and clenched his hand into a fist. “We’re pathetic, ya know?”
Evan frowned. “Speak for yourself.”
“So pathetic!” Will barked out a laugh.
Dalton nudged him. “Dude, stop.”
Will spun to face them. “Look at us. We’re pro football players stuck in jail the week before Christmas, and no one has come for us!”
Evan rolled his eyes. “Our attorneys are probably still at the charity event.”
Dalton pushed him in the shoulder. “True. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s not?” Will gestured violently to the lock on the cell door. “Grim and his idiot got sprung by their wives.”
“So what?” Evan shrugged. “Who cares about them?”
Will bowed his head, and that lost feeling, the one he’d felt the whole plane ride back to Denver, increased a hundredfold. “It’s about so much more.”
His friends just stared at him. “And people say I’m unstable,” Leon said.
“You look like you’re on the verge of a breakdown, dude. Knock it off.” Evan crossed his arms.
Will put his hand up. “I’m just … Aren’t you just …” He couldn’t get the words out.
“What?” Dalton pushed away from the bars and threw up his hands. “Just say what you need to say.”
“I’m done with it,” Will said, feeling certain.
His friends gave each other worried looks. “What, exactly, are you done with?” Evan asked.
Will put laser-like focus on them. “All the women.”
Dalton frowned. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound good.”
“I just want one. The right one.”
“True that, brother.” Chase snorted, putting his head in his hands.
Evan laughed. “I don’t think you hurt your shoulder. I think it was your head.”
Will flipped him the bird. The men laughed, and Will managed a tense smile. “Seriously, guys. Think about it. How many hours do we spend memorizing plays?”
“None.” Dalton sputtered. “We know them all.”
<
br /> Will pursed his lips. “How many hours have we spent in our whole football careers memorizing plays, analyzing plays, figuring out strategy?”
His friends thought about that for a moment. Evan threw up a hand. “Countless.”
Will punched a fist into the air. “Exactly.”
“Your point?” Dalton made a circling gesture with his hand.
“The point is, we have brains full of strategy about football, but none when it comes to what matters.”
Evan looked doubtful. “We make a lot of money, bro.”
“Football is life, bud,” Dalton agreed.
“Just …” Will didn’t even know how to get his point across. “It’s Christmas week. And what are you guys doing?”
They hesitated, and Evan said, “Going back to Milwaukee.”
Dalton nodded. “I’m going to Port St. Austen to spend the week with my older brother.”
“Exactly.” Will gestured to both of them. “We’re grown men. I’m twenty-eight; you guys are twenty-seven, twenty-six. None of us have our own families.”
“There’s no reason to rush,” Leon said. “I’m only twenty-five. I’m too young to die of marriage.”
Evan snorted. “I’m not sure which one of you is worse.”
Dalton gave a forced smile. “I can see your point, Will. I’ve been feeling …”
“Don’t do this, guys,” Evan protested.
Dalton lifted a finger into the air. “Hey, I’m not doing anything. Did you see my last breakup? I bought a car for that woman and she still cheated on me.”
