The Betting Groom (Last Play Christmas Romance Book 1; The Legendary Kent Brothers)

by Taylor Hart

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Tara, we—the truth is that I need closure.”

  Eyeing him up and down, she hugged herself tighter. He could see her teeth chattering. “It’s been eleven years, Will.”

  “You’re really freezing.” He pushed in, touching her arm to move her out of the doorway.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your lips are even as blue as your eyes. Let’s get you warm.” It was in his nature to take over, to see the playing field and determine what needed to be done. He was a quarterback, after all, and if he couldn’t do that, he really wouldn’t be useful. Finding a throw blanket across a chair in the living room, he grabbed it and put it around her shoulders, assessing that she really was in shock. He kept his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  She was quiet for a moment as her trembling subsided. “Who knew it would work?” she muttered, moving to the couch to sit.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, tagging behind.

  She blinked, then said, “Tell me why you showed up on my door on the twentieth of December at almost ten at night. Aren’t you dating that …” She threw up a hand. “Some supermodel?”

  “No.” He had dated a couple of supermodels, but he didn’t want to talk about that. This was about finding out if old flames could resurrect. He’d spoken to Tom only yesterday, and he was having a great time with Emily Times. Tom had proclaimed he was in love again. “I went by your fancy office to talk to you today, and the secretary gave me your address,” Will added, leaving out the part about the secretary telling him all the dirt on her.

  “Oh. Shelia shouldn’t have given out my personal information.” Her frown gave way to a tiny smile—the first sign that the old Tara was really in there. “You just turned on the Will Kent charm, didn’t you?”

  “That may have had something to do with it,” he admitted.

  “She’s fired,” Tara said in a growl.

  Will’s phone buzzed and he looked at the screen. He pressed end.

  “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” She looked ticked, and he didn’t know why.

  “No.” He scoffed. “It was Zane. He just had a baby and he’s always wanting to FaceTime.”

  She lit up. It was brief, but beautiful. “That’s great.”

  He nodded. “So don’t fire your secretary. C’mon, you know how it goes.” Tara had always told him he could get anything from anyone, not because he was the star quarterback, but because he could charm the pants off anyone. He gave her a serious look. “What’s going on, Tara?”

  A sad look flitted across her face. “Shelia probably told you I’m recently divorced. It seems to be what she tells everyone.”

  Clearly, Tara wasn’t happy about her secretary blabbing. “I was sorry to hear that.” Which was mostly true.

  “What can I say?” Sarcasm soured her voice. “When you catch him with the maid, it’s kinda over.”

  Will hadn’t been expecting this. She had been through way more than he knew. “That sucks,” he breathed out.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes shifted to his. “Last time I ask, Will: why are you here?”

  His palms had turned sweaty. Will wasn’t usually a sweaty palms kind of guy. Scooting back a bit, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “Have you ever wondered,” he said, plunging right in, “have you ever wondered if …”

  “If what?” Her voice was soft.

  “You know I’ve dated way too much,” he said, standing and rubbing his hands on his pants. All the women of the last year marched through his mind in single file.

  “No kidding. You’re a PR nightmare, I’m sure.”

  Will thought of all the warnings he’d had from his agent that he was going to get dumped by the PR team who managed his image. He snorted. “I pay way too much for them to complain.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure you do.”

  He met her eyes and asked what he wanted to ask since he’d seen Emily Times in Maui last week. “Did you love me, Tara?”

  Tara barked out a laugh. She stood, looking very tired. “Will, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but … I kinda just got divorced. Believe me,” she said, putting her over her stomach, “my life is far too complicated right now to be worrying about what was long ago in the past.”

  Closing the gap between them, he took her hands, which had barely warmed up. “You’re still freezing.”

  The moment went slow and sticky. His heart raced. The way she looked at him, like she was remembering now, too, flooded through him.

  A smile played at her lips. “I did love you, Will. I know you didn’t understand when I broke things off—”

  “That I was arrogant and cocky.” It was stupid, but the words got stuck in the back of his throat. He remembered how much they’d hurt.

  She stared down at their hands. “The truth was that you were going to the Naval Academy and I knew I couldn’t afford to go with you.”

  “I would have done something different if you would have said yes.”

  With a teary smile, she said, “I wanted you to have your dream, Will. I’ve been so stinking proud of you.”

  His heart softened.

  “When you got done serving on that carrier and the Storm pretty much gave you a contract on the spot, I couldn’t sleep that entire night because I just kept thinking about all the hours I’d spent with you in that yard, watching you throw the football through that tire swing.”

  “You would get the ball for me over and over, too.”

  She met his eyes again. “I won’t lie—I do get tired of your mug on those dang billboards.”

  He grinned. “They are kinda obnoxious.”

  “But I’m so happy for you, Will. Really.” Her hand flew to her stomach and her face went pale. “Excuse me, I’m a bit sick tonight.”

  Alarmed, he watched her rush down the hallway. “Are you okay?” he called out. As much as he wanted to go down the hall and check on her, he wouldn’t intrude on her space.

  Blowing out a breath, he reckoned that this whole “meeting again” wasn’t how he’d imagined it. After all, Tom had been bare-chested on the beach when he’d run into Emily. This wasn’t the same at all. Tara clearly had crap going on in her life right now. Just barely divorced. Dang.

  He thought of having to be the one to face Cameron Cruz. He’d rather go bungee jumping off a helicopter like Will Smith had recently advertised he was doing for

  his birthday party. And that said a lot, because Will was terrified of heights.

  Looking around the elegantly decorated apartment, he focused on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The whole place was an open-floor plan that combined the living room with the dining room and kitchen, all looking out on Denver below. When he looked out the windows, he saw the Storm stadium in the distance. He grinned, imagining how it would look all lit up.

  He also thought about how differently the city looked from up here. It wasn’t busy. It was almost ten, and downtown didn’t have much open except a few restaurants and bars. The week of Christmas might be slower. People were probably spending time with their families. Maybe not. He was single; he was still here. Had he done the right thing coming over tonight?

  “Will.” Tara approached him from down the hallway. She’d changed out of her dress; now she wore a T-shirt and some grey sweats, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her hand still rested on her stomach, and she smiled wanly. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel well. I need to ask you to leave because I really need to get some sleep.”

  “Are you sick?” He walked toward her, meeting her in the kitchen. She definitely looked pale.

  With a sardonic laugh, she said, “Yep.”

  He didn’t understand why she was lying to him. “Can I do anything for you? Make some soup?” The offer to help sounded funny coming out of his lips.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “I mean it.” He lifted his hands and let them drop. “I’m free the next couple of days, and if you have the
flu or whatever I can help.”

  A light laugh escaped her. “Is Will Kent offering to play nursemaid?”

  When was the last time he’d offered to help anyone? That question didn’t make him very happy to think about. “Yeah, he is.”

  She hesitated. “Thank you, but … it’s not gonna happen.”

  All he could do was think of the next play to get the ball down the field. The blitz he needed to run to get past her defense.

  Rubbing a hand over her forehead, she sucked in a breath. “Will, I don’t know why you came over tonight. Maybe something happened that made you feel nostalgic. I understand that. But my life is in shambles at the moment.” She threw up her hand and turned away from him. “I have an ex. I have no clients, thanks to the ex.” When she turned back, he saw tears in her eyes. “I have a lot to figure out right now, and I just need some sleep, so please go.”

  Every part of him wanted to do something for her, but he also needed closure. “Wait. Wait. Sorry. Just answer me two quick questions. Or we can answer them at the same time. I think this will just prove we were meant to be together.”

  She gave him a blank look. “O-kay.”

  “Dogs or cats?”

  “What?”

  “On the count of three, say the one you pick … dogs or cats.”

  “Cats,” she said, at the same time he said, “Dogs.”

  He frowned, his heart racing. “Okay, no biggie. Beaches or mountains, count of three. One, two, three.”

  “Mountains,” she said, at the same time he said, “Beaches.”

  A small smile tugged at her lip. “Will, please go.”

  He sucked in a breath, realizing that the only thing he could do was give her what she wanted. “Okay, Tear Bear, I’ll let myself out.”

  She huffed in amusement. “Haven’t heard that name in a while.”

  Not asking permission, he slipped her into a full bear hug. “You go sleep. I hope you feel better.”

  After a long, still moment, he felt her squeeze him a bit. “I’m actually glad you stopped by.”

  Releasing her, he walked to the front door, and she followed. “Do you mean that?” he asked.

  She let out a laugh. “Thanks for giving me a bit of memory lane. I kinda needed that tonight.”

  He opened the door and walked out, feeling like he might have barely gotten a first down. “Okay, bye.”

  Chapter 4

  Tara awoke to banging on the door. “Ugh.” Her mouth felt dry and she stayed in bed, not feeling nauseous yet but knowing it might hit her when she stood up. Last night she’d Googled morning sickness and discovered it shouldn’t be called morning sickness, because many pregnant women experienced sickness all day long.

  More banging on the door, then the doorbell. Her mind flashed to Will Kent. But that would be ridiculous, right? Why would he be here again? She’d dreamt about the man last night. It was one of those discombobulated dreams where they were in high school and they were together but she was simultaneously married to Zeke. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to forget how it’d felt to kiss Will behind the football stands in the dream.

  More banging and doorbell. Turning to her side, she saw that it was nearly eleven o’clock. Dang! She threw the covers off and bolted out of bed. She was supposed to be making an appearance down at the Salvation Army Santa event at noon with the only client she had left. Charlie Jackson was a Colorado Rockies rookie, a left-handed pitcher from Wyoming, and he had hired her to help change his bad-boy image because he’d gotten a DUI and the fans had turned against him. She glanced at her phone as she rushed to the front door—ten missed texts, half of them from Charlie.

  Ding dong.

  She flung the door back and stopped, dumbfounded to see Will Kent there again. “What is going on?” she grumbled.

  He wore a leather jacket, jeans, and combat boots. He held a motorcycle helmet in one hand. He slipped his avatar sunglasses off and asked with a grin, “Miss me?”

  “What are you doing here, Will?”

  He swept his gaze up and down. “Are you still sick? Have you been in bed this whole time?” He checked his phone. “It’s almost eleven, Tear Bear.”

  “I’m … feeling better.” Which was true. The sleep had done her some good. “Plus, what does it matter to you, Will?” Dang if she wasn’t feeling nervous butterflies just looking at Will Kent. She’d felt the attraction between them last night briefly, but it’d been overpowered by desperation and sickness. This morning, however, he looked good. He smelled good, too. “Nice cologne.”

  He winked at her. “It’s CK.”

  It made her smile to see that part of him was the same old Will. Showing off his cologne. She frowned at him. “Will, I’ll ask again: what are you doing here?”

  Her phone buzzed. She ignored it.

  His face scrunched up. “I actually need your help. We never talked about it, but I’m sure you heard what happened at the charity event the other night.”

  Tara sputtered out a laugh. “Yeah, looks like you ticked off Grim.” Grim was that insane reporter she always advised her clients to steer clear of if at all possible and to never agree to an interview. Well, her old clients.

  “Yeah.” His face turned surly. “Grim’s an idiot. Anyway, I’ve been taking some bad press about it.”

  She hadn’t noticed, but she hadn’t really been noticing much except the ex running her out of her business and now the child growing inside of her. Reflexively, she put her hand to her stomach. A baby was growing inside of her. The situation hadn’t hit her fully until last night.

  “What’s wrong?” Will asked, looking at her hand. “Are you gonna ralph again?”

  She dropped her hand, annoyed. “No, I’m not going to ralph again.” Not if she could help it, anyway. She needed to get her butt to the store and buy soda crackers. At least that’s what all the online forums had said help deal with the sickness.

  With a big grin, he put his hands on both sides of the door, looking like he was about to catapult himself into her apartment. “Good, because I have news for you. Big news, Tear Bear.”

  “What, Will? Do you need to talk about the past, again? Because I’m busy.” She checked her phone and saw one of the messages. Won’t be able to pose as Santa today. She cursed.

  “What?” Will leaned in and tried to look at her phone.

  Putting it down by her side, she wondered where she’d get a Santa at the Salvation Army in less than an hour. If she didn’t line something up, all the kids and the photo op and everything would be ruined. She didn’t have time for old boyfriends. “What, Will? What?”

  “I want to be your client.”

  Tara’s thoughts skidded to a stop. “What?”

  “I could use the help. Like you said, I ticked off Grim. He’s been saying a bunch of crap about me. As you mentioned, I’ve dated my fair share of women. Truthfully, my PR people are quite tired of me.”

  It didn’t make any sense. Will Kent was a sensation. A bit of drama would only intensify that sensationalism, not hurt him. “No, they’re not. I don’t know what’s going on, but I really don’t have time to deal with this. I’m sorry.” She started to close the door.

  Will held it open and put his head through. “Have you heard that Cameron Cruz is talking about bringing Roman Young back?”

  She didn’t know that much about the football world, but she did recognize the name Roman Young. He’d been a sensation when he’d been in Dallas, and when he’d retired from the game, it’d been a media frenzy. “Why?”

  Will put a hand on his shoulder. “Because stinking trainers keep saying my shoulder needs more time to heal, even though it doesn’t. I’m one hundred percent, but nobody believes me.” He shrugged. “So the thing I don’t need is Grim doing a number on my image and worried Storm fans being haters. I want them to love me, adore me, to never give me up.”

  She frowned at him. “It’s getting kind of deep in here, wouldn’t you say?”

  He laughed. “You kno
w what I mean.”

  Tara caught a whiff of opportunity. Zeke had always teased that she could sense these things, the next client they should go after. The ones who might need them. Too bad he’d exploited her and then stolen it all.

  As she stared at Will Kent, she thought he might be right. Fans didn’t like to think they might be backing a losing guy. It was ticky-tacky in that world, and he could probably use a positive image boost. He might need her, or at least there was a chance she could help him. The thought appealed to her. “What are you thinking?”

  “Isn’t that your department?” Ceremoniously, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “I thought this could be your retainer fee.”

  She reached to take it and stared. The check was made out for fifty thousand dollars. “That’s too much,” she breathed.

  He let out a light laugh. “See, that’s funny, because when I asked my agent what I’ve been paying my current PR firm, the one that’s doing nothing, he told me the normal retainer fee was one hundred grand, and then they billed hourly like a law firm.” He snorted. “So I guess it depends on the mess and what they assess they’ll have to do for cleanup. They bill it out at two or three hundred bucks an hour.”

  His phone buzzed. He pulled it out. “Dang. Hold on, it’s Zane. He’ll keep FaceTiming until I answer. Hello?”

  Tara peeked over his shoulder and saw a cute baby face on the screen. “It’s baby Lily,” Zane’s voice said over the line.

  “Dude. H-hey, Lily.” Will’s voice rose an octave for his niece, then dropped back to normal for his brother. “Dude, I have to go. I’m busy.”

  “Fine, but we’re expecting you for Christmas, remember?”

  “Gotta go. Bye, Lily.” He pressed end and turned back to Tara. “Sorry.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Even tough Zane caves when it comes to a baby.”

  “Yep. So what do you say? Let me hire you?”

  She knew that top PR firms would charge this way; however, hers hadn’t climbed to that part of the food chain yet. “Will, I …” Her mind flitted to last night and all the possibilities that had gone through her mind. “I might be leaving Denver.”