Marrying the Football Billionaire

by Stephanie Street

  “What about his dad?” He was really going for the jugular with that one. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be offended and run off and never speak to him again.

  Oakley made a face. “He’s long gone. Left when Kaden was just a baby.”

  Chris frowned. Who would do that? If Oakley and Kaden were his, he’d never leave them.

  Chris shook himself. What was he thinking? He couldn’t start thinking like that. Sure, Oakley was kind of amazingly hot, but she was young. And a mother. And Chris was…well, he was who he was. Oakley obviously didn’t even know he was Chris Bragg. But he did and Chris Bragg did not need to get entangled in this woman’s life.

  But it was tempting. Oh, so tempting.

  Where were they?

  Right.

  Kaden’s jerk dad.

  “I’m sorry. Divorced?”

  Oakley nodded. “Yep, over two years now.”

  Chris chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. “Wow, are you even old enough have a kid and be divorced for two years?” Jeez.

  Oakley drew herself up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  It just occurred to him what he said. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. It’s just,” he ran a hand through his hair. “You do look young. And Kaden is so little. What kind of jerk would leave you two behind?”

  She rolled her eyes as she blew out a breath. “Oh, he’s a jerk alright.”

  “He doesn’t help out?” Might as well jump in with both feet.

  “No, and I don’t want him to. He signed away his parental rights. It’s easier for everyone if he just stays away.” She glanced over at her house. Chris watched the emotions skitter across her face and knew she was thinking of Kaden. When she faced him again, he could see where he’d misjudged her. Oakley might be young, but she’d been through a lot.

  She smiled. “Besides, I’m older than I look.”

  Chris stepped back, pretending to assess her age. Really, it was just an excuse to check her out again. “What? Twenty-two.”

  She squinted her eyes and tried to hold back a smile. “Twenty-four.”

  Holy moly! Twenty-four. It was as bad as he thought. Seven years. He was a grandpa compared to her. “Twenty-four, huh? That is old,” he teased.

  Oakley laughed and the sound hit him right in his chest with all the force of a freight train.

  “What about you?” Leaning forward, she reached out, brushing her fingertips against the near white hairs at his temple. The slight touch sent goosebumps down his arms. “Are you younger than you look?”

  Chris coughed, bringing his fist up to his chest as though she’d stabbed him, hoping she wouldn’t notice how she’d affected him. “Jeez, don’t take it easy on me.”

  Her face turned bright red, but he’d give her props for not backing down. “You’re the one that started this whole age game. Now fess up.”

  Reaching up, he ran his own fingers through the lighter colored hair at his temples. “Pre-mature graying. It runs in the family. My father had it and his father. It skipped my younger brother, but several of my cousins younger than me have more gray.” He’d been self-conscious of the lighter colored hair when he was younger. Nobody wanted to turn gray in their early twenties, but he’d come to accept it. And honestly, it hadn’t stopped the Chris Bragg fan club in the least, so he decided not to worry about it.

  “That’s interesting, but you still haven’t told me how old you are.” She was getting more comfortable with him by the minute and Chris loved it. He wondered how long he could keep her out here talking to him.

  But first he had to admit how old he was. Would it bother her, the difference in their ages?

  Chris gave himself a mental slap upside the head.

  What did it matter if it bothered her? They were not going to be anything more than neighbors. Friendly neighbors, but still, just neighbors.

  “Thirty-one last January.”

  Oakley held his gaze for a few charged seconds before collecting herself. “Wow. That is old.”

  Chris let his body deflate dramatically. “You are mean.” He pointed a finger at her. “That was mean.”

  She laughed and he liked the sound of it. In fact, he liked everything about her. “You deserved it.”

  “Right. Well, now that you’ve completely deflated my ego-,” he let the sentence hang. And his head.

  Oakley patted his shoulder softly. “Oh, darn. Those egos are fragile things.”

  Chris couldn’t hold it back. He barked out a laugh. “Wow.” He shook his head.

  She laughed. “My work here is done. I should let you get back to yours.”

  He didn’t want her to go. He wanted to pack her up and take her inside. Except, the house was a mess and he only had one chair. Actually, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He could share.

  “Kaden is probably awake by now, anyway.” She took a step toward her house.

  “That’s fine. Tear me down and don’t even stick around long enough to build me back up. I see how it is.”

  Her smile widened. She walked backwards. “I think you can handle it, big guy. I’ll see you later.” Then, she turned and jogged up her front porch, entering her house without looking back.

  Chris glanced down at the glass, her glass, that sat on his porch and smiled. As much as he didn’t want to let his cute neighbor out of his sight, at least he had an excuse to see her later.

  Chapter Seven

  Oakley jogged lightly when she wanted to sprint. What in the world had just happened? She’d only meant to take her hot, in every sense of the word, neighbor a cool glass of water. That was it. And maybe get her matchmaking best friend off her back. Cam was literally off her rocker if she thought there was any possible way a guy like Chris would have any interest in her. Not only was he gorgeous, he was older. She could tell by looking into his eyes he had more life experience than her by a long shot. Not that getting married young and having a baby hadn’t taught her anything, it had. But there was something different about Chris.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh.” Cam turned away from the window as soon as Oakley burst through the door and pointed her finger at Oakley. “I was so right! There were more sparks bursting between the two of you than fireworks on New Year’s Eve.” Cam’s eyes turned dreamy. “This is it, Oak, this is your shot at a good man.”

  Oakley shook her head, denying every word coming out of her friend’s mouth, but there was no denying the way her heart raced after bantering with Chris in his front yard. As far as sparks? Cam wasn’t wrong. Without a doubt, visions of Chris without a shirt on would be keeping her up at night for months to come. Years. Not that she’d admit that to Cam anytime soon.

  “First, you are crazy. Second, how do you know he’s a good man? For all we know, he could be an ax murderer and he’s using the house next door to hide dead bodies.”

  Cam glared. “Now you’re just being stupid.”

  “No, what would be stupid is getting involved with anyone right now. Kade and I are doing just fine, thank you very much. I don’t need some man to take care of me, no matter how firm his abs are.” Oakley brushed past Cam to resume her position on the couch. She lifted a pair of Kaden’s tiny undies and smoothed them out even though they probably wouldn’t even make it into the set of drawers in his room. He went through them so quickly, she’d begun keeping a stack in the bathroom.

  Cam dropped to the cushion beside the laundry pile. “Of course, you don’t need a man. But come on, hon, can you honestly tell me you don’t want one? I know Wes did a number on you and the fact that he would abandon Kaden like he has-” Cam pressed her lips into a thin line. “Who would have guessed he’d do something like that. But not all men are like Wes. Don’t you want someone to, I don’t know, be there when things fall apart? Someone to love. Kiss. Hug when you get home from work who doesn’t care that you smell like fried food and look like death?”

  Were they still talking about her? Oakley wondered. “Hey.” She dropped the shirt she’d been holding and reached for Cam’s hand. “Are you ok
ay? What’s going on?”

  Cam’s eyes were filled with moisture that hadn’t been there seconds before. “It’s just,” she struggled for the right words. “It’s just, aren’t you lonely sometimes? Don’t you hate sitting out here every night after Kade goes to bed by yourself?”

  “I’m not by myself. I have you.” Oakley squeezed Cam’s hand.

  Cam let out a watery smile. “I know I’m amazing, but even I can’t replace a good man. A husband. Don’t you want that?”

  It had been awhile since they’d had a heart to heart like this one. For years, Cam had avoided the topic of men and dating except to encourage Oakley to get herself back out there. As much as she wanted to avoid this conversation for the next, well, forever, she wondered if there was more to it than Cam wanting what was best for her and Kaden.

  “I’m not sure, anymore. Do you?”

  Cam didn’t respond right away. She shrugged. “It gets pretty lonely sometimes, doesn’t it? I keep thinking I’m doing fine on my own. My business is taking off. I finally feel like I’m successful, that all my hard work is paying off. My bank account is growing but when I get home at night I have no one to celebrate with.”

  “Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” Oakley teased.

  Cam laughed. “You know what I mean. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

  Oakley shrugged, but the truth was, she knew exactly. It wasn’t long after the divorce. One of the other waiters at work asked her to go out for drinks after their shift. Maybe that didn’t make it a date, but it kind of felt like one. Jason was a good guy and she’d always thought he was cute and fun, but that night she realized she wasn’t ready for what Jason was offering. Like, at all. That experience made her a little gun shy. She noticed good-looking men. She even noticed good-looking men noticing her. But she hadn’t been tempted to do anything about it.

  Chris tempted her.

  Ever since he stopped by with a handful of her mail, she’d been almost single-mindedly fixated on the man next door. When she was home, she was aware of everything he was doing. If he was home or if his big, black truck was gone. She was in-tune with the noises coming from the house signaling he was up and moving around and working. She knew what time he usually stopped for the evening and that he watched television for a couple of hours before shutting off all the lights. He liked to eat his dinner from his lap on the front porch step.

  Yeah, Chris tempted her in a big way.

  But that was foolish. She had no right getting ideas about hotties like him. She had Kaden to consider. Her son needed her, all of her. Sharing her with a new man in her life couldn’t be a good thing for her son. She just needed to remember that when goosebumps rose on her arm when she heard his voice as he talked on the phone outside her window. Or when his muscles bulged as he carried heavy bathroom fixtures out of his house, barely breaking a sweat.

  Oakley repeated that advice to herself later that night after Cam had gone home and Kaden had once again fallen asleep, this time on her lap in their living room while watching the newest live action remake of a classic cartoon on DVD. Chris might be as handsome as the Hollywood Chris’s she and Cam drooled over on a regular basis, but looks weren’t everything. She’d already learned that lesson the hard way. She’d do herself a service to remember it.

  Chapter Eight

  Oakley didn’t talk to Chris again for almost a week. Summer was fast approaching, bringing with it busier nights at the restaurant where she worked. Saint Ivory’s was an up and coming high end steakhouse that catered to the city’s who’s who. It wasn’t unusual to see politicians, professional athletes, and other celebrities sitting at the tables, especially on the weekends. The higher ticket prices, which led to big tips, was the only reason Oakley still worked as a waitress. There were times she made more in tips in one night than she would working full-time anywhere else. It helped that her schedule was flexible because pretty much everyone was willing to pick up extra shifts. Oakley never had a problem getting someone to cover her shift if she needed time off.

  “Table ten,” Maria, one of the other waitresses, murmured as she passed Oakley, a tray loaded with water glasses balanced on one hand.

  Great.

  Most of the time, patrons at Saint Ivory’s were great. But every now and then they got a table with guests who might pose a problem. They usually tried to warn each other when that happened. Table ten, which sat from four to six people, sat in the middle of the dining room and was in Oakley’s section for the night.

  She made a quick stop at table three at the edge of the dining room before taking a glance at table ten. Maria wasn’t kidding. Bigger than life and right smack dab in the middle of the dining room were six of the largest men Oakley had ever encountered in one place. They were talking and laughing boisterously, not at all bothered by the looks they were getting from patrons at nearby tables. And why should they be? They were the kind of men who didn’t care one iota what anyone else thought about them.

  With a deep breath, she used her hip to open the swinging door to the drink station. Trays of sparkling crystal water glasses lined one wall. Oakley took down six and filled them each with ice and water before loading them onto a serving platter, taking exactly five seconds to collect herself before facing the beefy bunch.

  “You got this,” she muttered to herself. But her pep talk did no good. Her heart lodged in her throat and her hands shook as she approached the men.

  She wasn’t afraid of them, they weren’t doing anything untoward, but they were huge! It was difficult to imagine anyone not being intimidated by them, especially as a group.

  But this was her job, and if the tailored suits hugging their respective muscular bodies were any indication, they had money. And lots of it. If she played her cards right, the tip from this table alone would buy groceries for the next two weeks for her and Kaden.

  “Good evening, gentleman. My name is Oakley and I’ll be your server this evening.” She greeted them with the warm, yet professional, smile she’d perfected the first month of working at Ivory’s. It hadn’t taken long to understand the effect of an overly eager smile on a group of alpha males, the tips were good, the inappropriate touches not so much. On the other hand, a cool aloof smile was no way to earn a tip and the hourly wage the wait staff earned wouldn’t even pay for a tank of gas to get her to and from work everyday. Tips were the lifeblood of working food service, Oakley couldn’t afford to get stiffed on tips because she wasn’t friendly. There was definitely a fine balance and if she was going to make it in this business, she’d had to learn quick.

  Six smiles turned her way.

  “Good evening, Annie Oakley.” A large, dark man smiled, the brightness of his teeth contrasting with his skin almost blindingly.

  Oakley wanted to roll her eyes at the nickname. Like she hadn’t been called that before at least a hundred times an evening for the last four years. She let it go without comment knowing anything she said would either encourage the behavior or alienate her customers and she didn’t want to do either. Besides, she could immediately tell from the man’s smile, he, at least, was harmless.

  “How is everyone tonight?” she asked as she moved around the table setting water in front of each man.

  “Better now that you’re here,” another man said with a wink. His smile was just as large as his friend’s and just as kind. Oakley’s anxiety ebbed. It seemed the men at table ten were just a bunch of big ole teddy bears.

  “Oh, you charmer,” she teased.

  “Charmer?” another man laughed. “Nobody’s ever accused Rodney of being charming before.”

  Rodney frowned at his friend. “Shows what you know, Tyler.”

  “You guys stop. You’re gonna scare off our pretty waitress and I’m hungry.” The first man who called her ‘Annie Oakley’ smiled again and she found herself smiling back. These guys were fun.

  “Well, how about you tell me what you want to eat and we’ll take care of your empty stomach?” Oakley poised h
er pen over the small pad of paper she kept in her pocket. Most of the time she could remember what guests ordered, but she had a feeling these jokesters weren’t going to make it easy on her. Laughing always made her lose her train of thought.

  “I’ll help you out. Terrance here wants one of everything.” The man named Tyler pointed to her friend that was hungry, Terrance.

  Terrance glared at Tyler. “Don’t listen to them, sweet thing. I don’t want one of everything, but I will take a big juicy steak medium rare.”

  “Would you like a salad?” Her pen stilled as she waited.

  The table erupted into chuckles.

  Rodney laughed the hardest. “Do we look like we eat salads, honey?”

  Oakley smiled. “Garlic mashed potatoes?”

  Terrance nodded. “You got it.”

  Oakley made a note and went around the table collecting food and drink orders. “Alright, gentleman. I’ll be back with drinks right after I put in your food order.”

  Tinsley, another waitress and Oakley’s closest friend at Saint Ivory’s, caught her at the POS system where they entered the food orders and asked about the men at table ten.

  Oakley brushed off her concern. “Just a bunch of marshmallows.” Not in stature, of course, but in the ways that matter, absolutely.

  Tinsley laughed. “Only you could call that bunch marshmallows.”

  Oakley frowned as she finished entering their order for the kitchen. “I wonder who they are?”

  Tinsley gaped, her eyes wide. “You don’t know?”

  Oakley turned to her friend. “You do?”

  “Are you kidding? Everyone knows them. They play for the Thunder.”

  Oakley glanced at the table again. It made sense how big they were, now that she thought about it, it was either gonna be football players or bodyguards.

  “Seriously? Have they come in here before?” It was surprising she hadn’t seen them before tonight. She worked five days a week and that included weekend nights. She thought she knew all the regulars.