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

by Taylor Hart

  His brows furrowed. “What?”

  Not able to believe she’d said that, she turned away from him. “I’m thinking of moving.”

  He took her hand and pulled her back around to face him. “Because of stupid face and what he did to you?”

  Letting out a rippling laugh, she actually felt a little better seeing Will looking like he wanted to slam his fist into something. He’d always been protective of her. If anything, he was a warrior when a fight was brought to the door. It was what made him good on the field. “Ah, you want to beat him up for me?”

  His anger dissipated, but his eyes were serious. “In a heartbeat, Tear Bear. You know that.”

  The thing was, she did know that. Wasn’t that funny? That she could ask Will for help, not that she’d thought about doing that since … well, since she’d broken his heart all those years ago. But she knew, deep down, he would help her without thinking twice. Tears misted her eyes. Slowly, she reached out and touched his face. “Thank you for offering, Will. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

  He put his hand over hers. “I’ve missed you, Tara.”

  The sincerity in his words took her off guard. She tugged back her hand. “I can’t take your money. I can’t help you. I’m sorry. My life is crazy right now.”

  He put his hand back on the door. “I know you don’t have family, Tara.”

  She didn’t like to be reminded how lonely Christmases were for her. When she’d married Zeke, she’d thought she’d never be the pathetic person alone at Christmas again.

  “Help me,” he pressed, shoving the check back to her. “Help me—take me on as a client.”

  She stewed over it. If she wasn’t leaving, fifty grand would go a long way to renting some new office space. If he were her client, she just might be able to salvage her career, her business, everything.

  “However, there is a stipulation.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What?”

  The side of his lip tugged up. “I want the next four days with you.”

  She blinked. “What?” she repeated, dumbfounded this time.

  “I want the next four days: today, the twenty-second, the twenty-third, and the twenty-fourth. You’ll be done with me by Christmas, so there’s no conflict if you already have plans.”

  She didn’t, but she wasn’t following what he was saying. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Maybe you were right last night. I’m being nostalgic.” He shrugged. “Whatever it is, I want some closure, and I think I can get it if you spend four days with me.”

  She glared at Will. “So what you’re saying is you’re willing to give me fifty grand to do who knows what for your image, but I have to spend until Christmas with you.”

  He nodded. “Until Christmas Eve. Up to, and including.”

  Her phone buzzed, signaling she’d gotten a text. Checking it, she saw it was from the Salvation Army guy, Hank, asking if Santa and Mrs. Claus were on their way. Apparently a line had started to form.

  “Tara.” Will pressed her.

  Her eyes flashed to Will’s, and an idea formed. “Okay, but part of this whole deal is helping you revamp your image, right?”

  “Right.”

  Excitement buzzed through her, and she let out a light laugh. “Then come right on in, Will Kent, and practice your ‘ho ho ho,’ because I need a Santa and it’s going to be the best thing Denver’s ever seen their star quarterback do.”

  Chapter 5

  Would Tara have laughed her butt off if someone had told her yesterday that she would be standing at Salvation Army being Mrs. Claus to Will Kent? Yes, she would have died laughing. But after watching the man do the loudest belly laugh when he came out and dramatically shook his belly, then asked her to pull his whiskers in front of the kids, she was having the time of her life.

  It was touching to see Will have each kid hop up on his lap and wait patiently for them to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. She stood next to Will, smiling, and sometimes the kids would want her in the picture. It was very sweet.

  “Ho, ho, ho,” Will said, as he patted the kid’s back gently and helped him off of his lap.

  They’d only done ten kids and the line was out the door and down the street. “Will, we have to keep going.”

  He turned to the crowd. “You know what always gets me in the giving mood, children?”

  “What?” the kids yelled in chorus.

  She was amazed that the kids were so in tune with him. Yet why would she be amazed? After all, it was Will Kent and he was playing Santa.

  He put his arms around her. “A little sugar from Mrs. Claus. What do you guys think?”

  The kids giggled. One yelled out, “Kiss her!” Soon, all the volunteers were chanting it, and it spread down the line that stretched out the doorway.

  Her heart rate sped up, and she tried to gently decline. “Oh, no,” she said in a Mrs. Claus voice. It came out weird and high-pitched. “Mrs. Claus shouldn’t kiss anyone right now.”

  Everyone kept chanting, “Kiss him! Kiss him!”

  The camera guy she’d hired to cover this event winked at her and came in close. “Ah, what do you say, Mrs. Claus? One tiny little kiss?”

  Will roared out more ho, ho, ho’s, and she glared at him. “Will …”

  He pulled her in and whispered, “C’mon, Mrs. Claus, it’s for the children.”

  Even though this was totally staged, the children were all there, and the camera guy was flashing and recording, the moment went slow and all her memories of kissing him washed over her like a tidal wave slamming into the rocks.

  Will didn’t settle for a brush of the lips. He dramatically took her into a deeper kiss, wrapped his arms easily around her waist, and leaned back, dipping her.

  The kiss threw her off-balance. All she could do was hold on to him, but then she was lost. This man was not the boy she’d refused to marry. No, he kissed a lot better. Even the Santa whiskers weren’t a problem.

  It was over quickly, and he was swooping her back onto her feet.

  The crowd applauded.

  Will winked at her, then lightly touched her nose. “Wow,” he said, loudly for the audience but still looking at her. “Mrs. Claus is still a good kisser after all these years.”

  The room of people clapped again and cheered. With more than a little swagger, Will returned his Santa chair and sat.

  Reflexively, Tara put a hand to her head and straightened her Mrs. Claus wig, still feeling swept off of her feet. One of the workers dressed up like an elf grinned at her, and knew she must be blushing.

  Another child at the head of the line stepped up to Will. It was a little girl with a pink ponytail, a pink dress, and a black coat. Tara noted the little girl’s clothes were a bit shabby, though clean. A lot of the children were homeless, so the child fit right in with everyone else.

  “How old are you, missy?” Will asked as he hoisted her up onto his lap.

  “I’m five.” The girl smiled and looked back at the line.

  Her mother waved at the little girl. “Lissa, get on with asking him. But remember, don’t ask for that expensive gift you want. Hurry up, child; there’s others waiting.”

  Dang, how many Christmases had Tara gone through after her parents had passed away where there was nothing? Too many. Even if she was with a good foster family, there weren’t usually the toys she’d wanted or asked Santa for. It hadn’t taken long for her to know the truth: no one was trying to make her Christmases that great. Emotion welled up in her throat, and she sucked in a breath, telling herself to get a grip.

  Lissa smiled at Santa and asked, “Can I whisper to you?”

  Tara scooted back over to them, purposefully eavesdropping.

  Will nodded and leaned in. “You bet.”

  The little girl whispered, “Santa, we don’t have a lot of money this year and Mama doesn’t know this, but I don’t want to ask for a present for me. I want to ask for new shoes for Mama.” She pulled back wi
th a delighted look on her face, the kind that showed all her teeth. “That’s what I want this year.”

  Chills ran through Tara. Dang, she was emotional.

  Will had frozen. He sucked in a long breath and whispered something back to the little girl, who shrugged and whispered back. Tara couldn’t hear what Will was saying, but the girl burst out in giggles.

  “It’s true!” Will said loudly, “Ho ho ho!”

  The girl laughed harder. She nodded, hopped off his lap, and left with a wave. “I’ll do exactly what you said, Santa. I promise.”

  Will waved back. “I know you will, Lissa.”

  Tara rushed over to him, overcome with emotions for this little girl. She leaned into Will. “I’m going to go grab her information. I want to help her.” She pulled away, about to rush after Lissa and her mother.

  Will grabbed her hand. “Wait. We have a situation.”

  Her heart raced. “Okay.”

  He turned his back to the crowd. “What we’re going to do, Tara …” His tone was serious, and she imagined this was how he talked to his coaches or teammates. “We’re going to get all of their information. There’s been about ten kids who have already gone through—we’ll need to track them down—but I want you to have someone help you write down all of the information: where they live, and what the child asked for.”

  Another round of chills washed over her. “But that’s …”

  Will put up a hand. “I know. I’m already ahead of you.” He hopped off the little stage that had been put out for Santa. He went up to the manager of the place, Hank, and whispered something to him.

  Hank hesitated, then let out a laugh and a whoop.

  Will patted him on the shoulder and rushed back to the stage, saying to the crowd, “Okay, here’s the deal: my Santa helpers will be coming around taking down some information. Please don’t be alarmed. It’s to help out Santa. Now, if you don’t want to give it, you don’t have to.”

  Tara wandered up to Will and leaned into his side. “You’re seriously going to buy all these people Christmas?”

  “What are you talking about? Santa is working his magic.” He gave her a gentle shove and motioned to the next kid. “Come on.”

  The little boy in line ran and jumped onto him.

  Tara watched how Hank organized his ragtag team of about fifteen volunteers to get everyone’s information. She pulled out her phone and began writing down each child’s name and what they asked for. Overwhelmed, Tara let out a light laugh. This was crazy, but it felt so amazing to be part of.

  Four hours and one hundred and fifty kids later, all of the presents had been written down. Tara sat at one of the tables, looking over the combined list she and another volunteer were frantically organizing.

  Will, who had been just as generous with pictures with the Salvation Army workers, finally joined her, tugging off his beard and looking sweaty. “That was fun!”

  Unable to believe this list, she beamed. “I can’t believe this. Are you really going to buy all this for Christmas?”

  “Yes. I am. You are going to help me. All of the workers volunteered too.” He looked over to the workers gathered around the Salvation Army register.

  The workers were all laughing and chatting with Hank. One saw them looking at him and put a fist in the air to Will. “Go Storm!”

  Will put a fist up in return and laughed. “I asked a couple of those guys to come to one of the department stores tonight at six,” he said to Tara. “Told them I would pay them for their time to help us acquire all these toys, wrap them, and get them delivered. And guess what?”

  Completely bewildered he already had a plan, she asked, “What?”

  Will smacked his hand onto the table. “They don’t want to get paid; they want to donate their time to help us. So, Tear Bear, we gotta go get changed, because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Then we meet the crew at the department store, then back to my place for a wrapping party and organizing drop-offs.”

  Tara was floating on air after seeing all those kids today. Dressed in shabby apparel, a lot of them were probably homeless, and she was more than happy to help their Christmas wishes come true.

  Too bad a nauseous attack chose that moment to strike. Hopping to her feet, she put up a hand and rushed off to the bathroom. “Yes, just give me a sec.” She turned back and yelled, “Low blood sugar!”

  Chapter 6

  Will watched her rush off, confused. Low blood sugar?

  He relaxed at the table and opened a bottle of water, drinking it down. It had been one of the best days Will could remember in a long, long time. In years, maybe. At least since he’d been young and he and his brothers and mother would take those boxes of presents to different families in need on Christmas Eve.

  The funny thing had always been that Will never felt like they had much, but his mother always said, “We have our health, each other, and a roof over our heads. The good Lord wants us to use these hands to serve others at Christmastime.”

  A lump formed in his throat as he thought of his mother. Dang, he missed her.

  Sucking in a breath, he waited for Tara. The only thing he didn’t understand was what in tarnation was going on with her. The woman had seemed fine all day, then bam! She was sick again, claiming it was low blood sugar.

  He thought about her and smiled. She’d looked good in the Mrs. Claus getup. Heaven knew she could still kiss. Man, that was some zing between them.

  And could he say he’d won the bet? Yeah! But he didn’t want to count that as the kiss. No, he wouldn’t count that at all, because he wanted another one.

  As Mrs. Claus, she’d been by his side and he could tell she was having fun, but he’d seen her look up at him with almost … what would it be? Hero worship? Yes, the look she’d given him all through junior and senior year. The look that had convinced him he should ask her to marry him. It had about undone him today.

  How long had it been since a woman had looked at him like that when he didn’t have a football in his hand? Or she didn’t know he was a football player and she wanted something from him. Status, money, a shot at … Wiping a hand over his face, he didn’t even want to think of those women.

  Tara emerged from the bathroom. She had a peaked expression, but she smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

  “What’s wrong with you, Tara?” he asked, a bit sternly.

  Reproach crossed her face. “Nothing, Will. I’m fine.”

  “Low blood sugar?”

  She held up a wrapper. “I just had some candy. I’m fine.”

  He frowned. “Really?”

  She shot him a withering look. “When I get sick, my blood sugar does wacky things, and it takes a toll on me.” She shrugged and began walking away from him. “Don’t delay, Kent; there’s no time for Santa to have breaks at this time of year.”

  He followed, wondering when she’d started having blood sugar problems.

  * * *

  When they met with the rest of the ten-person crew at the department store, Will was amazed at the way Tara had organized lists of what to buy for each member of the team. She handed the lists out and told them they all had an hour to grab their stuff and get to the register. She clapped her hands and they all took off.

  Will turned to her. “What’s my list?”

  She grinned. “Don’t worry. You’re with me. We’re going to have to make a mad dash for wrapping paper, tape, scissors, and twenty presents, too.”

  “Give me the presents and I guarantee I’ll meet you at the wrapping paper and be done before you are.”

  “No way. That would be impossible. Twenty gifts, Will, not all of them toys.”

  Will felt like being impressive, so he stuck his hand out. “Give them to me.”

  She obliged and gave him a full page, filled with the twenty gifts. She took off toward the wrapping paper. “Whoever loses buys dinner.”

  He took off really fast, then slowed to a walking pace. How would he lose by being able to buy her dinner? T
hey hadn’t talked about dinner and he hadn’t been sure if she would take him up on it or not.

  Feeling pretty pleased with himself—well, more than pleased; maybe he was borderline Top Gun Maverick and Goose when they’d won the volleyball game—he strode around with the kind of confidence he felt at the end of a game where he’d shove the other team’s face in it. Not that he ever acted that way. His momma had also taught him to have good sportsmanship. He wasn’t one of those obnoxious players who shot his mouth off. But he definitely had an ego.

  Will walked over to one of the racks of boys’ clothes and noted that the present was size twelve. He located some jeans, but didn’t know which ones the kid would want. He knew exactly which kid had asked for them. So he put three different pairs in. The kid had only dared ask for a new pair of jeans. Shaking his head, he grinned and continued his work, quickly locating all of his gifts one by one.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he saw that his brother Grant had tried to call him. He called him back. “Hey.”

  “Hey, I don’t have much time. I’m about to leave for Jackson, Wyoming, with Ari’s theater teacher,” Grant said.

  Will let out a smattering laugh. “You move fast, my friend.”

  Grant grunted. “It’s not like that. She’s trying to find her birth mom and I’m trying to help her.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’ve gotten in the Christmas spirit after all.” Will was kinda proud of his movie star brother, because Grant had been a big phony the past year and Will and Tom had dropped that bomb on him a couple of days ago. Needless to say, Grant hadn’t been happy.

  A kid in a nearby cart yelled out, and a mother scolded another kid. “Don’t touch your brother; we’re just looking right now.”

  “Holy moly, what was that?” Grant asked. “What are you doing?”

  Will’s chest puffed out with pride. Maybe it shouldn’t. His mother had taught them to be humble, but dang, it felt good to be doing what he was doing, and he couldn’t wait to tell one of his brothers. “I was Santa today at the Salvation Army, and I’m shopping for some Christmas presents for those kids.” His mind raced with all that had happened. “Oh, and I tracked down Tara Lighthouse, and dude, she’s kind of still amazing.”