by Amy Daws
“So, Tanner,” Georgina asks, her Irish lilt smooth and confident. “Tell me a funny tidbit about Belle. Something that made you fall for her maybe.”
I narrow my eyes as I ponder this for a minute and then start laughing. “Whenever Belle eats out at restaurants, she doesn’t select her own food. She either goes along with what her guest thinks she should eat or has the server choose for her. At first glance, you would think she’s indecisive. But she’s not.”
“No?” Georgina asks, her eyes alight with curiosity.
I turn to look at Belle. “It’s because she likes the adventure of the meal, not just the taste. It’s a very trusting quality that I admire about her.”
Belle’s eyes are locked on mine in shock like she had no idea I ever noticed that. I wink at her and she reaches out to hold my hand.
“Belle, how about Tanner? What is it that made you fancy him?”
Belle smiles to herself like she has an inside joke none of us know. “Tanner looks like this cool and tough footballer with his man bun and perfectly trimmed beard, so you would assume he’s a pretentious sod. Most athletes think they have to keep up this persona of prestige and perfection, but Tanner doesn’t. He is the exact opposite of conceited. He puts it all out there. No filter, the good with the bad. The cool with the emotional. He goes from pig to pussy in seconds because he has no ego. He is who he is, goofiness and all. He’s a softy and that…is hot.”
Her eyes are still locked on mine and express an intensity that winds me. I can’t believe all that she sees in me sometimes.
Georgina clears her throat, her own cheeks red from witnessing the chemistry sizzling between us. “Tanner, when did you first realise you loved Belle?”
Tanner answers Georgina instantly. “I tried to hide it from her for a while.”
This makes me frown because it’s not the answer I expected.
“You did?”
The interviewer asks, “How so?”
He laughs. “Well, one night Belle got a little tipsy out at a club with her mate. I was trying to find her to get her home safely, but she wasn’t answering my texts or my calls.”
My eyes fill with realisation over the night at Club Taint that he’s recalling. That was so long ago. We were still faking it back then. Surely he didn’t love me then. What is he talking about?
He adds, “I was decidedly worried, so I called and texted an embarrassing number of times.”
“It wasn’t that many!” I chime in, calling his bluff. “There were only a couple.”
He quirks a brow. “Because I deleted them from your mobile.”
My eyes widen. “You did?”
He confirms, “While you were in bed.”
I shake my head, stunned. “I had no idea.”
The interviewer laughs with us. “So was that when you realised you were falling for Dr. Ryan?”
This gives him pause as he answers, “As she said, I’m not a man who holds back. So when I realised I had something to hide from her, I knew it was already too late.”
His answer floors me. His words are so simple, so basic and ordinary. But suddenly, everything about him is even more extraordinary. I don’t have time to ponder it before he rises from his chair.
Georgina frowns. “I just have a couple more questions and then you can be off.”
Tanner digs into his jeans pocket. “I have a more important question, if you don’t mind.”
He turns on his heel to face me and my eyes lock on a small, black velvet box in his hands. “Tanner, no. Not here,” I argue feeling the cameras and Georgina’s gasp of breath.
“We started this on camera and we’re going to finish it on camera, Ryan.” He winks and licks his lips. “Belle, when I first asked you to marry me a few days ago, it was rushed and quick and I wasn’t fully prepared. Now I want to put a ring on it.”
I giggle and cover my mouth, my head shaking in wonder at him as he drops down to one knee and opens a ring box, revealing a disgustingly large emerald cut diamond. My hands slice through my hair in utter shock. I can’t believe he’s doing this right here.
He leans in and whispers, “This is how you propose to someone.” He winks and gestures out around him at Tower Park. I take in its grandeur, its splendour, its magical ambience. It’s the place he calls home and the place I fell in love with him wearing a T-shirt that said “BIG SPOON.” It’s utterly perfect.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Belle Ryan, I’m officially inviting you to come to Harris Sunday dinners with me from now until forever, or until you can no longer stand my family because they’re horribly obnoxious.”
“Shut up,” I cry through tears. “I love your family.”
“And I love you,” he echoes. “I thought all there was in life was football and family, but it was only because I hadn’t met you yet. Every step of the way, you have tested the endurance of my heart. But now I want to go the distance with you. I want to do life with you for so long that I won’t be able to remember what it was like before you.” He pauses. “Will you marry me?”
I laugh, sniffing back my tears. “Yes…again!” I jump out of my chair and launch myself into his arms as he stands. He holds me as I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze every part of him against me as hard as I can.
Here we stand, on the pitch next to the goal post, confirming our life goals to each other.
“I don’t want to get married on a beach. I want to get married here,” I state and kiss him fiercely.
He laughs against my mouth. “I think that can be arranged.”
I gaze into his eyes. “I’m crazy in love with you, Big Spoon.”
“I’m crazy in love with you, Little Spoon.”
Eight Months Later
MARRIAGE IS A LOT LIKE football. It’s a game of trust. You support your team and you help them take risks. Sometimes it pays off. And sometimes it doesn’t. You celebrate every victory and you grieve every loss. But then you get back up and you do it again. Because the end result is a family you only ever dreamed of.
Watching my wife sit behind a table with Sedgwick, registering the masses of professional athletes that showed up for my first annual celebrity 5k run, is the most beautiful dream of all.
Today is a big day for us. Almost as big as our wedding day a month ago at Tower Park. Today is the first annual Shirt Off My Back Celebrity 5k Walk and Run.
Groups of London’s homeless are currently filing into a large white tent we have set up in Hyde Park. We’re serving food and drinks and have a table with donated clothing that they can grab from to help with job interviews. There’s also a job fair area where grounds managers from various London stadiums are doing on the spot interviews. It was Sedgwick’s idea to extend the job outreach programme beyond Tower Park, and I was stunned when other stadiums quickly jumped on board. There are no promises that anybody will be hired today, but getting face to face time with people in position is an opportunity that many on the street would have never had otherwise.
My entire family is here, dressed and ready to run. Even Hayden’s family and friends are out here to show support. Vi brought Rocky in a pram, and she’s all suited up in a little track suit and sweat band, just like her Uncle Tanner. Gareth and Camden were able to secure several of their teammates to join in on the run, and they’re all mingling with the homeless, eating and learning about their backgrounds. It’s inspiring.
We’ve raised over one hundred thousand pounds so far between donations and entry tickets. It’s only half of my goal, which is disappointing. But Belle continues to reassure me that for a first annual, it’s a great start.
At nine o’clock, I’ll say a few words and then a gun will sound for the official race to start.
I stride over to Belle at the table. She’s just finished registering DeWalt, who gives me a polite nod. The prat wasn’t invited to the wedding.
“Hello, wife,” I say proudly. “How are things over here?”
She looks up at me with a smile, her dark eyes gl
ittering with pride. “It’s going great, isn’t it Sedgwick?”
“It really is,” Sedg beams from beside her. “And you just missed it, but I got to hold Rocky.” His eyes twinkle with delight. “Your sister thrust her into my hands, not afraid at all. She’s just heavenly, Tanner.”
I smile and agree completely. It’s nice to have my family all meet Sedgwick today. I don’t know what I would have done without him these last few months. He’s practically become the unofficial vice president of our operation here.
Our hope is to turn Shirt Off My Back into a nonprofit with a location that would allow the homeless to shower and wash their clothes. We’ve brainstormed ideas, like an onsite clothing closet for job interviews and whatever else people might need to gain back some dignity. I’d love to give Sedgwick a new job as operations manager. Though, he’s still more than happy working the grounds at Tower Park.
“Oh! I have to talk to you,” Belle says, standing up from her chair. “Are you good here, Sedg?”
He looks around. “I think we’ve got everyone registered. I’m just going to grab a quick bite before they put the food away.”
“Excellent.” Belle picks up a bag from the ground and swerves around to grab me by the arm. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more private.”
Her voice sounds funny. I don’t like it when her voice sounds funny.
“The media tent is empty,” I offer.
“Brilliant.”
We walk over there and when she turns to face me, she has a frightening twinkle in her eyes. It’s that same dangerous one she gets when she’s getting ready to go down on me. Where I can’t quite tell if she’s going to suck me like a champion or bite it off and dance on my grave.
I grab her and pull her toward me.
“I’m not here for that.” She pulls away from my lips.
“What?” I murmur against her neck. “You said you wanted privacy and you have that look in your eyes. You know where my mind goes.”
“Tanner, be serious,” she states as I run my finger over the scrawling text on her forearm.
On the night of our wedding, Belle and I got matching tattoos. Mine is scrawling text perfectly entwined in my sleeve that says, “Love her but leave her wild.”
Belle had her ink cherry popped with, “Love him but leave him wild.”
It’s the perfect mantra to our marriage. We fight and we push each other to our breaking points, but we’ve learned that fighting is our foreplay. And I do so enjoy playing with Belle.
“Tanner, we need to have Deep Talk right now,” she states, pulling my mind out of the gutter.
“Yes, my wife?” I half smirk at her, removing my hands from her arse.
She licks her lips. “What if I told you that I found a donor to double all of the funds we raised today with one simple stipulation?”
“I’d tell you I love you and ask you where we can go for a victory shag,” I rush out, grabbing her around the waist.
She gives me a look. “We’re not shagging, Tanner.”
I sigh heavily. “So another dream dies.”
“Do you know a Frank McElroy?”
I frown. “A mate of Hayden’s, right? Yeah, I met him at Vi and Hayden’s engagement party. He’s a funny bloke. Not exactly your type seeing how he bats for the other side.”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, apparently he comes from loads of money. I’ve heard the McElroy name in my father’s circle, but he’s not a prat like them and he had an idea to make today an even bigger splash.”
“Okay…” I say, my curiosity more than piqued.
“If you and your brothers do this, he’ll match all the proceeds raised today.”
“I’m listening!” I exclaim. This is incredible.
“And remember that time I picked you up naked on a street corner and you said you’d owe me one?”
“Yes…”
“Attending my hospital fundraiser wasn’t nearly enough, so…” She giggles and bends over to pick up the bag. She pulls out a bright neon green strip of fabric.
“What’s that?”
Belle smiles. “A mankini.”
“A what?” I ask, completely confused.
She holds it up more clearly. It’s a tiny strip of underwear with straps that go up over your shoulders. The back is—
“Belle, the back is a thong!” I say incredulously. “What on earth are you going to do with that thing?”
She gets that look in her eyes again. Pure fucking evil.
“If you and your brothers wear a mankini to start off the 5k, we’ve officially made our goal for the charity.”
My jaw drops. “You want me and my brothers to wear that thing and run a 5k?”
She nods. “It’s for a great cause.”
“I’m out. This is ridiculous. I quit being a Harris.” Booker groans, pulling on the tight fabric beneath his sweats, awkwardly adjusting his package.
“I don’t even fit in mine,” Gareth says, tweaking his athletic shorts and pulling his T-shirt down over his head. “We need an addendum to this clause. We have to wear shorts or something.”
“Yeah, same problem here, bro,” Camden states, striding out from behind the makeshift changing room we created in the vacated media tent.
He’s not covering anything up. Literally. I wince at the sight of his nut sack spilling out the sides. At least he shaved I guess.
Okay, I’ll admit, this idea is ridiculous. But first of all, I would do just about anything for my wife. And second of all, when Belle told me the amount of money we could make with a viral YouTube video, I suddenly became a lot less embarrassed.
I pin my three brothers with a serious look. More serious than I feel, standing here in a pair of joggers with two neon straps over my shoulders that cover my nipples. “Look. I know this is crazy. I know that we’re going to look like a bunch of wankers out there. But we’re Harrises. We rise above it. We’re not too proud to do something a little outside the box. Those people are out there on the street with a lot less, and we would give the shirt off our backs to anyone who needed it and that’s what this represents.”
I snap the neon fabric on my chest and Gareth’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. Camden and Booker are less concealed in their blatant amusement.
I continue, “It’s a hundred thousand pounds with major potential for so much more.”
“But we could pay the difference,” Gareth states.
I sigh and shake my head. “It’s not just about the money. It’s about making a splash. Going big. This ridiculous idea will set up the charity for life. It’s going to go viral, and that will enable us to help even more people.”
“Or scare people away,” Booker grumbles.
“Not if we do it right. Not if we do it loud and proud as only Harrises can.”
Camden leans over to Gareth’s ear. “Is it just me or are you getting a Braveheart freedom speech vibe right now?”
“It’s for a great cause!” I roar. “Now let’s go out there, bro up, cup our nutty buddies, and do this!”
We cover up the rest of ourselves and make our way out of the tent to the makeshift stage where crowds of people are gathered to watch the start of the race. If I was nervous before, now I’m completely cool as a cucumber. There’s something kind of empowering about wearing this mankini. I might have to make this a thing.
My whole family is standing in front of the crowd of several hundred people. Hayden has Rocky in his arms; Indie and Vi are talking quietly to Dad; and Booker, Gareth, and Camden walk up to join them, looking awkward as fuck.
My eyes land on a bright red mane of hair, recognising the man immediately.
Frank.
He tips his head to me with a sneaky smirk, and I shake my own back at him. He might be the most brilliant pervert I’ve ever met.
I clear my throat to speak into the mic. “I don’t have a lot to say, but I do have some people I want to thank. First of all, thank you all for coming, either as athletes participating in the run, frie
nds and family here to show support, or all of you who donated today. We’ve raised a lot of money and it makes me incredibly proud because I know it’s only the beginning.
“Shirt Off My Back started because a man helped me who didn’t have a shirt to spare. He literally had nothing but was willing to give me everything. And it made me realise that, as a professional athlete, I wasn’t giving enough. So I hope to make a big impact here today.”
I pause and exhale, anxiety spiraling inside of me over what I’m about to do. I look at my brothers, who look like they’re about ready to vomit or cry. I can relate. A nervous smile breaks across my face. “And to throw a wrench in the mix, my brothers and I have a little surprise for everyone to make today…extra memorable.”
I can see everyone looking around like they are expecting some big pop star to come running in to bring the house down or something. We’ll be bringing the house down all right.
Belle smiles bigger than I think I’ve ever seen, Vi frowns with confusion, and I swear I hear Frank’s cackle from somewhere in the distance.
“Let’s have a good race!” I shout and hop down off of the stage, heading straight for Belle. Her face is the picture of amazement as I grab her and plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. “Just remember, you asked for this.”
She giggles and looks me up and down. One would have thought she’d be disgusted by what I’m about to do, totally turned off by the strips of neon lycra peeking out beneath my clothes. But the fire I see in the dark pools of her eyes forces me to look away before I grow right out of this getup.
She stands on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear, “Is it completely mad that I’m turned on thinking about what you’re wearing under your clothes right now?”
I lick my lips and side-eye her. “Completely. But I would expect nothing less from you.”
She giggles and moves in closer. “The worst part of all of this is that Frank would have donated the money regardless.”
“He what?” I exclaim, rearing back, my shock so great I think my heart stopped.
She yanks me down by the shirt and murmurs against my lips, “But you doing this only made me fall in love with you even more.”
