Quarterback Casanova (Kansas City Griffins #1)

by Lisa Rayne

  “To minimize such failed placements for infants, they decided not to discuss siblings with prospective parents unless they asked about multiples or the parents indicated during their interview that they would consider adopting more than one child. Since infants were too young to talk and reveal their family ties, adopted parents of infants left without knowing about any brothers or sisters left behind. The decision of which child to place with a family was based solely on age. The oldest child of the gender sought was the one placed. In our case, mom didn’t care if she got a boy or a girl, but—”

  “But you were the oldest by two minutes.”

  “Yeah.”

  Dash shook his head. Two minutes.

  Only two minutes had meant the difference between life in foster care and life with a loving family. Then again, life in that loving family may not have led him to the life he had now. Tatum was a soccer guy. He didn’t even follow professional football until he’d found out he had a brother in the NFL. Dash loved football, and he loved being a professional quarterback. He wouldn’t want that to change. The truth of that broke a crack in the wall he’d built around his emotions.

  He may not have had a family growing up, but he had one now. Here was Tatum offering him the brotherly camaraderie he would have killed for as a kid. All he had to do was accept it. That crack in his ability to form emotional attachments split wide enough for him to admit to himself how badly he wanted to do just that.

  He looked at his brother. They rose at the same time, somehow understanding without words what the other was thinking. They wrapped their arms around each other in a strong embrace.

  When they pulled back from each other, Dash said, “Just so you know, big brother. You are not to ever call me ‘baby brother’ in public.” Dash shivered dramatically.

  Tatum laughed. “I’ll take that under advisement.” He sat back down. “My parents want to meet you.”

  “Meet me? Why?”

  “Because you happen to be the twin brother of their first born son. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just getting used to you. I don’t know that I want to be on display for the other family.”

  Tatum laughed. “The other family? Is that what you call them?”

  Dash nodded. “Yeah, sometimes, in my head.”

  “Well, cut that crap out. They’re not ‘the other family.’ They’re my family. By extension, that makes them your family as well.”

  Dash sat quietly.

  Tatum decided not to push him. “Think about it. Okay? Everyone realizes you’re at a critical part of your season so this isn’t something that need happen right away. But when your season’s over, I’d like you to come to San Diego for a visit.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. Now, what about Naomi?”

  Dash sighed as he thought about Naomi and Tallie, the woman he wanted and the child she’d given him. The woman should be his wife and the child should be under his roof so he could love on her and protect her everyday, but he hadn’t been able to make that happen.

  “I asked the woman to marry me. She turned me down.”

  “You told her you loved her and asked her to marry you, and she said no?” Tatum frowned.

  Dash didn’t speak for a moment.

  “Dash?”

  “I didn’t say I loved her, but I did propose. It made perfect sense with Tallie in the picture.”

  Tatum threw up his hands. “You stubborn, foolish idiot.”

  “Watch it.”

  “Watch it my ass. So, basically, you made her think you wanted to marry her because of the baby.”

  Dash sat silently again.

  “Why can’t you admit that you love that woman?”

  All of Dash’s frustration boiled to the surface. “Because I don’t know shit about love and she knows it. If I’d have claimed to love her, she’d have laughed in my face. I was being sensible. We’d get married and make a family for Tallie.”

  “There is no family without love, Dash. Do you love her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Crap!” Dash jumped up and paced to the fireplace. “What else do you want from me?”

  “I want you to admit the truth to yourself and stop sabotaging your future because of your past.”

  Was he doing that? Was he sabotaging what he could have with Naomi because he couldn’t let go of the past?

  “I don’t know anything about all that love crap. All I know is that I miss her. I want her here with me. All the time. I feel like someone just played a cruel joke on me. I got used to being without her only to have her slip back into my life for a short time and remind me how much better my life was when she was with me. I want her back. And I want my daughter.” Dash rubbed both hands down his face. “Ugh. I sound like some whipped punk.”

  Tatum picked up Dash’s abandoned coconut water and tipped the glass at Dash as if in toast. “Nah, bro. You sound like a man in love.” He took a sip. “With two women.”

  Dash gave him a puzzled look.

  “One of them just happens to be pint-sized.”

  Dash smiled then. “Yeah. I’m screwed aren’t I?”

  Shaking his head, Tatum replied, “Only if you’re not man enough to go after what you want. I thought you professional athlete types were supposed to be single-mindedly driven and all that.”

  Dash tilted his head. “Why does that sound like a challenge?”

  “Maybe,” Tatum grinned, “because it is.”

  Chapter 21

  Naomi opened her door to a messenger. He held out an envelope and a bushel of wild flowers in a plastic sleeve. She signaled for the man to wait while she got her purse.

  With a touch of his hat, he nodded. “No need, ma’am. The tip has been taken care of.”

  “Thank you.” She closed the door. The fragrance of the wild flowers pulled at her nostrils. She pressed her face into the bushel for a long inhale. “Lovely,” she said softly to a silent room.

  Heading for the kitchen to fetch a vase, she flipped the envelope over several times but couldn’t find a return address. She placed the envelope on the table, filled the vase, and arranged the flowers. Her fingers parted the flowers searching for a card without success.

  Stepping back to the table, she picked up the abandoned envelope and opened it. Inside rested three tickets to the Griffins home game this afternoon. Knowing immediately who they were from, she stared at the tickets, amazed that he had sent her three. She could only guess that he intended for her to bring Tallie and her mother. Who else would she bring?

  Her butt dropped into a chair. She had seats for each game, of course. The Sports Daily had reserved seats in the press box. Dash knew that. Nevertheless, he had sent her VIP tickets. He hadn’t just made a gesture by sending her a personal ticket for a seat in some prime location. These seats were in the section reserved for the wives and families of the players. He was making a grand gesture, an outward showing that she and Tallie held a privileged place in his life.

  She wondered if he’d feel the same if he knew she’d finally turned in the story about him finding his twin.

  Would he still want to play family man?

  She doubted it.

  Tatum had called her a few days ago to let her know he was in town and intended to stay long enough to see Dash play today. She understood Tatum was giving her a heads-up that her window for exclusivity was closing. Once Tatum appeared at the stadium today, that there were two of them would no longer be a secret.

  A deep sigh resonated in her chest. She’d bitten the bullet and done what she thought right. She’d turned in her stories to her editor. Part one of the series had run in this morning’s paper. Dash wouldn’t have seen it yet. He never read the news before a game. His entire focus would center on preparation for the day and visualization of the results he wanted. By the end of today’s matchup, he’d have more than score results to live with. He’d have another moment in th
e spotlight set off by a news article tagged with her byline. Reporters would be lining up to ask him questions.

  As much as she wanted to attend today’s game, and should for job purposes, Olathe Stadium was the last place she wanted to be. She tossed the tickets onto the table and turned, intent on clicking on the television so she could watch the pre-game activities.

  Her mother came out of the back room before she made it out of the kitchen. “You aren’t getting ready to go? You know what traffic will be like trying to get to the stadium. You better get a move on if you want time to talk to players before kickoff.”

  “I’m not going to the game today. I’ll just watch it on the tube.”

  “Since when?” Her mother gave her a look that suggested she thought Naomi had developed a sudden mental defect.

  Naomi continued towards the living room. “Since now.” Her eyes flicked to the kitchen table as she spun.

  Her mother took note and walked over to the table, causing Naomi to pause.

  Adele hummed, “Mmm hmm,” and held up the discarded football tickets. “These wouldn’t have anything to do with you suddenly not wanting to be in the stadium on game day, would they?”

  “No.” Naomi turned her back on her mother and exited the kitchen.

  “Why, lookie here. There are three tickets. I wonder who the other two are for? Hmm?” Her mother followed her and made a major production of putting her finger to her chin as if in deep thought. “Hey, Tallie! Come here.”

  Naomi blanched and lurched for the tickets. “Mom! Don’t.”

  Adele held the tickets aloft while the sound of thundering toddler echoed down the hallway. “Yes, Gammie?”

  Adele squatted and showed Tallie the tickets. “Look. Would you like to go to a football game?”

  “Mom,” Naomi groaned.

  Tallie jumped up and down and clapped. Reverently, she whispered, “Football?”

  “Yes.” Adele smiled at the euphoric toddler.

  “Yes! Football. Go. Go.” Squeals joined the bounces.

  Adele slid the tickets into the back pocket of her jeans and said to Naomi. “You best get dressed. We have a game to attend.”

  “Mom, I’m not going to that game. Those tickets are in the family section. How is that going to look?”

  “Like you and Tallie are Dash’s family and important enough to him that he wants everyone to know it.”

  “I’m—”

  Adele shook her head. “Naomi, open your eyes. That man is madly in love with you. I know he hurt you with the way he proposed. That he didn’t say the words you wanted—needed—to hear at that moment. But, sweetheart, he’s tried to contact you repeatedly over the last few days. He’s asking for another chance, and I think you ought to give it to him.”

  Naomi’s eyes squeezed shut.

  A hand landed softly on her shoulder. “Honey, he’s reaching out to you. You need to meet him halfway.” Naomi’s eyes opened slowly, and Adele smiled. “Besides, Tallie and I really really want to go to this game. You’re not going to rob us of the opportunity when we have such great seats, are you?”

  Huffing out a breath, Naomi groused, “You’re really not giving me much of a choice are you?”

  “No. I’m really not.” Adele grabbed up Tallie and headed to the bedroom to bundle her in warmer clothes.

  *

  Olathe Stadium, home of the Kansas City Griffins, clamored with the excitement of fans on the verge of seeing their young franchise make the playoffs. A Wild Card spot was on the line, and the Griffins had strong odds in their favor. The game didn’t start for another couple of hours, but tailgating activities and vendor sales were in full swing.

  Tatum meandered up the winding ramp, heading for the upper level. He stopped at a concession counter. He considered a beer, thought better of it, and decided to find his seat.

  The melodic groove of his favorite R&B song sounded from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and silenced the ringtone with an answering swipe. “Gentry.” He skirted around the counter to engage in conversation with his investigator. “Michelson, what did you find?” He frowned at the answer he received. “Are you sure? What kind of accent?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Got it. I’ll need you to follow up on that right away. Bye.”

  Crap. He disconnected and immediately clicked through his contacts to text Naomi. An interesting twist had just been added to the saga originating in Ibiza. Without looking up, he turned and nearly stepped into the arms of a beautiful woman wearing a Griffins jersey displaying number twelve—Dash’s number.

  He smiled as he apologized. Her face lit up, and he knew immediately the misperception she was under. She grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. The large gentleman beside her didn’t look too thrilled to see her arms around him.

  “Dash, what are you doing out here? Since I was a little late getting to the stadium I didn’t think I’d get to see you until after the game.” She stepped back and eyed his attire. Frowning, she commented, “You aren’t dressed for warmups. What’s going on? Are you injured? I didn’t read anything about that in the papers.” Her hands went to her hips. “If you got hurt and didn’t call to tell me, I’m going to beat you.”

  You can beat me anytime, he wanted to say, but thought better of it when he took another look at her companion. Her tirade amused Tatum. Her companion, however, was not so amused.

  The man grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Peyton, quit treating the man like a child. I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.”

  Tatum did a double take of the woman’s long dark hair, smooth walnut-brown skin, and long legs encased in a pair of body-hugging jeans. “You’re Peyton?”

  She disengaged herself from the gentleman. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Who else would I be?”

  After a few seconds, her eyes grew big. He could almost see the imaginary light bulb go on over her head. He grinned.

  “Holy cow,” she breathed. She took an unconscious step towards him. “You’re the twin.” The awe in her voice made him want to laugh. She walked around him in a slow circle.

  Her companion rolled his eyes. “You want him to bare his teeth next, Pey? Come on. Let’s find our seats. I want to be settled by the time the game starts, and I want to make sure I can get reception in there,” he tapped his laptop case, “if I have to do some work.”

  “Hold on, Marion. We can sit down in a minute.”

  “I don’t want to miss the kick off.”

  Tatum tilted his wrist, unnecessarily checking the time. “I think you’re pretty safe on the kickoff issue.”

  The glare he received communicated how unappreciative Marion was for the input.

  Peyton patted the man’s chest. “Fine, Marion. Go.” She pulled a ticket from the right back pocket of her jeans and handed it to him. “Find our seats. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Marion walked off. Tatum wondered what kind of guy didn’t introduce himself then walked off and left his woman with a complete stranger. He pulled his eyes away from Marion’s retreating back and focused on Peyton. Dash had some explaining to do. When he’d talked about his foster sister, he’d never once mentioned what a babe she was.

  She put her hand to her throat. “I’m so so sorry if I made you feel like you were on display. But, goodness gracious, the resemblance is disturbingly uncanny.”

  “So, I’ve heard. I think it’s part and parcel of the whole identical twin thing.”

  She laughed. “Right.”

  He extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Peyton. I’m Tatum Gentry.”

  She took his hand and placed her other over top of their joined hands. “It’s so nice to meet you, Tatum.” She released his hand and shook back her hair. “I apologize for my fiancé. He loves to watch the Griffins play, but he’s not a big fan of Dash’s. I guess by association—or maybe we should say by resemblance—those feelings now also extend to you.”

  Fiancé. It figured a woman as attractive as she wouldn’t be unattached. “Don’t worry about i
t. I won’t hold that against you. Him? I’m not so sure about.”

  He wondered how Dash felt about the guy. Were the bad feelings mutual? He’d have to ask Dash after the game. Right now, he needed to get Dash a message, and perhaps he could use Miss Peyton to do it. He glanced at the laminated all-access pass around her neck. “Did I hear you say you’re supposed to meet Dash before the game?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve cut it rather close though. Dash should be headed to the field to warmup. I’m not sure they’ll let me close to him now.”

  He took her arm. “It’s important you make that happen, Peyton. I’ve got some important information Dash needs to have before the game starts. I’ll fill you in as we walk. Which way?”

  *

  Uncharacteristically, Coach Waterman gave a pre-warmup speech before dismissing the team to the field. Dash thought the man had pulled out just about every motivational cliché except “Win one for the Gipper.” Perhaps he was saving that one for right before the game.

  Shaking his head, Dash turned towards the locker room exit.

  “Dash, hold on a minute.”

  He looked back to see Shave Stephens standing by his own locker dressed in jeans, a Griffins baseball cap, and his number nineteen jersey without pads. Dash glanced at the last of his teammates heading out the door.

  “This will only take a minute, kid.”

  Dash’s lips curved up. He thought it funny to hear Shave call him “kid.” You’d think the man was two to three decades his senior instead of not quite one. Dash headed back towards the lockers. “What’s up, Shave?”

  “I wanted to talk with you about the game.”

  “What about it?”

  “As you know, I haven’t been cleared for play yet. I’m not sure when I’ll be getting back on the field with what’s going on with my leg.”

  Dash’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high or start any rumors yet, but you and I both know this is your shot at that starting position you want.”

  “I didn’t want it like this.”

  Shave gave him a considering look. “Yeah, I know you didn’t. You’ve always been a standup guy, Janssen. I’ve never doubted your dedication to the team or your respect for my position. The thing is, whether I want to or not, I’m going to have to take a serious look at what’s next for me when it comes to football. But, in the meantime, I’ve put a lot of time and effort into building this infant franchise into a serious playoff contender. I don’t want to see that blown to hell because the offensive team wasn’t ready to move forward with another guy in the pocket.”