The Athletic Groom: Billionaire Marriage Brokers

by Lucy McConnell

  “Darling, use a napkin.” Her mom handed one over while Harper coughed.

  “You’re asking me?” She pointed her plastic spoon at her chest.

  “She’s your mom,” Isaac pointed out. If her own daughter objected to Logan staying with Nora, then there was a problem.

  Taking a sip of water, Harper cleared her throat. “Well, Seth and I turned out okay.”

  “Thank you so very much for that overwhelming vote of confidence.” Nora threw a napkin at Harper.

  Harper laughed. “Do you want to learn to golf?” she asked Logan. That wasn’t really the questions Isaac meant to ask, but he sensed she was giving Logan an out that wouldn’t hurt Nora’s feelings. She was pretty smooth at this family relations thing.

  Logan bobbed his head. “Yeah. Golf’s cool.”

  Isaac hunched over the table. All these years he’d tried to get Logan interested in some sport. Football. Basketball. Baseball. And it was golf that piqued his interest. Golf!

  Harper nodded to her mom, who clapped her hands together. “Let’s order cake.” Nora beamed.

  “We just finished ice cream.” Seth held up his empty cup.

  “We’ll take it home!” She hopped up and hurried over to the counter.

  Isaac groaned, and it wasn’t at the idea of eating an ice cream cake. A sense of panic like he’d never known hummed just below his skin.

  Harper reached past Logan and put her hand on his forearm. “He’s going to have a great time. She’ll spoil him like he’s never known.”

  “I don’t want him to get used to it—to expect her to buy him things.”

  “Guys!” Logan slammed down his cup. “Sitting right here.”

  Harper brushed her hand up Isaac’s arm. “What I think will surprise you is how much he’ll start to expect from himself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Me neither,” threw in Logan.

  Harper pressed her lips together for a moment. “My dad’s parents spoiled us with love and my mom’s parents spoiled us with gifts.”

  “You got that right,” Seth chimed in.

  “I knew the difference. My mom may buy gifts, but it’s because that’s how her parents expressed their love for her; but she also loves to give hugs and listens when you talk. Kind of the best of both worlds.”

  “Just don’t expect her to layer on the praise. She doesn’t say she’s proud of you; she buys a commemorative pen,” added Seth.

  Harper laughed.

  Isaac still wasn’t settled. He focused on Logan. “You text me every morning, noon, and night, or you’re on the first plane to Colorado.”

  Harper nodded. “I think Zeek should still come during his regular hours just in case Nora has something come up or wants some time to herself.”

  That sounded good. Zeek would let them know if anything was amiss. “Okay.”

  Seth sighed. “And Uncle Seth will be there to keep an eye on things,” he said, all put upon that no one else had brought it up. Harper considered him for a moment. Seth was a bachelor with one sibling. Maybe he was as lonely as she was before Isaac and Logan came along. I wonder if Pamela has a match for him?

  “I hate to admit it, but that actually does make me feel a little better.” Isaac lifted his shoulder.

  “Then I guess we’re off to Colorado.” Harper smiled.

  Isaac’s blood pounded in his chest as the implication of traveling with the team—and Harper—filled his head. Without Logan and Seth to act as chaperones, they’d be alone.

  Four days alone with Harper.

  At least they’d have separate rooms. Then, perhaps, he’d keep his sanity, because the more time he spent with the woman, the more he liked her. And the more he liked her, the more afraid he was that he’d cross a line.

  18

  Isaac stepped off the first of the three shuttle buses hired to haul the team and their support staff from the private jet to the hotel. In the morning, the buses would take them to the stadium for BP. They’d have a few hours of downtime before their game against Colorado at six tomorrow night.

  He turned and offered his hand to help Harper down the steps. Not that she needed it. Those beautiful legs of hers could climb a cliff with ease. However, he liked having an excuse to touch her in public. And he liked that the guys knew she was his. It was old-fashioned and egotistical, but there was something—call it a repressed instinct—that wanted to stake his claim. Of course, that big ol’ diamond on her ring finger was a statement, but he’d placed that there before he thought of Harper as more than a boss.

  She placed her fingers in his hand and smiled as she glided down the steps and towards the pristine glass hotel doors. A bellhop in the traditional red uniform with gold buttons tipped his hat as he pulled the brass handle and opened the door for her.

  She never did define their relationship for her mother, at least not in front of him, and he was getting antsy to know where he stood. Pushing for an answer wasn’t going to win him any points—if she wasn’t ready, then she wasn’t ready. He got the impression they were working their way towards more than contractual partners, but if there was one thing he knew, you didn’t swing hard unless you read the pitch right.

  As those from the first bus filled the lobby, Jenn Whitman, the travel coordinator, called them to order. “Hello and welcome to Denver. Please form three lines at the desk. Your rooms and roommates have already been assigned.”

  Juan Castillo groaned. “I’m not sharing with Mattock again—he snores.”

  “I do not—that was you!” They shoved one another good-naturedly while the local press took video. Isaac had hoped to get away from the cameras, at least at the hotel, but there’d be none of that on this trip. They were officially dubbed the league’s underdogs, and those feel-good stories were too good to pass up.

  “Like taking a group of teenagers on a road trip,” Harper said to Isaac with a shake of her head.

  “Peter Pans—all of them,” Isaac agreed as they stepped up to the counter.

  “More like Lost Boys,” she joked. Turning to the desk clerk, she gave her name.

  “Of course.” The desk clerk revealed a large gap between his extremely white front teeth. Seriously, if the power went out, this guy could light the room. “You and Mr. Wolfe are on the ninth floor, room 915. If you need anything …” He went on to explain about calling the front desk, that their bags would be delivered soon, and gave them the WiFi password, but all Isaac could see was the panic in Harper’s eyes.

  “What …?” she asked. She held the key cards, one in each hand, but she hadn’t moved.

  The clerk’s gap disappeared. “Is there something wrong?”

  Several cameras turned their direction and the noise level in the room dimmed.

  Of course Jenn would assume he and Harper would share a room, but he hadn’t thought a thing of it. And judging by the paralyzing fear on Harper’s face, she hadn’t either.

  “We’re fine. Everything’s fine. Thank you.” Isaac put his arm around Harper’s shoulders and pulled her away from the desk.

  She jolted at his touch—coming alive once again. “Isaac!” Her voice was low but insistent, and she’d turned in to him. “We can’t … I mean, you can’t expect us to … They think …”

  He leaned close, burying his face in her hair and talking sweetly, loving every second of this contact. “They think we’re married—and they’re right.”

  Harper melted against him as they waited for the elevator. “Married or not … Isaac, what are we going to do?”

  The doors dinged open and they stepped inside. Thankfully, no one else joined them. Harper took up the far corner like a caged animal. Her knees were slightly bent and her arms stiff at her sides.

  “Geez, Harper, I’m not going to attack you.”

  “No. I know.” She stood up straight and put her hand to her forehead. “Maybe it’s a double queen room.”

  “There you go—problem solved.” Isaac motioned for her to go first as the do
ors opened. She fumbled with the key before finally getting the heavy wood door to swing open. They stepped into a small sitting area with a chair, television, computer desk, and mini fridge. “See, it’s not so bad.” Isaac pushed past her. Off to the left was an archway framing one giant king-sized bed.

  “Problem not solved.” Harper folded her arms.

  Isaac didn’t like the scowl that covered Harper’s beautiful face, and he especially didn’t like that it was aimed at him. “Am I missing something?”

  She scratched her elbow before shaking her hands out. “I’m sorry. I know I’m acting strange, but I had a boyfriend who would pull things like not booking me a room in an attempt to get me in bed with him.”

  “Classy guy.”

  Harper sagged as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Welcome to dating.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “Because I’ve had so many women try to trick me into bed lately.” He eyed Harper with mistrust. “Wait—you didn’t …” He circled his finger around the room.

  Harper’s hand went to her chest. “I would never!” She was properly aghast—and then she laughed.

  Isaac chuckled. “Okay, I was just checking. A guy can never be too careful with the woman he marries.”

  “You!” She threw a pillow at his head, which he snatched out of the air.

  Dropping it on the floor, he said, “If you’ll throw me the comforter, I’ll make a bed here.”

  Harper groaned. “I can’t ask you to sleep on the floor. You’ve got a big game tomorrow.”

  “What else are we going to do? The press are everywhere in this hotel and it’s not like we can just pack up and go to another one.”

  She bit her lip. “And asking for a rollaway cot would be as much of an eyebrow raiser. If only there was a couch.”

  Isaac rubbed his foot into the floor. “Or carpet.”

  “I’m calling for extra blankets and towels.”

  “I’m calling Logan.” He checked his watch.

  There was a knock at the door. “Bellhop!” someone called through the door.

  Harper sighed. “I guess I’m getting the door.”

  While she directed their luggage placement and requested the extra towels and blankets, Isaac talked to Logan. “So everything’s okay with the old lady?”

  “Dad, don’t call her that. She’s cool.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we went golfing after school today and she got me in for a lesson with the club pro tomorrow morning.”

  “So you like golf.”

  “It’s okay,” he replied—which was teen boy talk for he really liked it and couldn’t wait to get out on the greens.

  Isaac smiled. Golf?! “Did you get your homework done?”

  “It’s the last week of school; there is no homework.”

  “Did you talk to your English teacher about that missing assignment?”

  “I emailed it to her this morning before class.”

  “Great. What did you have for dinner?”

  “Missing Danny’s food much?”

  “We ate on an airplane.”

  “Sorry.”

  Harper touched his arm and Isaac covered the receiver. “I’m going to shower. They should bring up the blankets in about five minutes.”

  Isaac had to focus hard to not think about the ramifications of sharing a room with Harper. They’d shared a home for several weeks, but were never in this close proximity unless they were eating or in the office. “Sounds good.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?” He turned his attention back to Logan.

  “I just asked if I could have a few friends over to watch the game tomorrow night.”

  Isaac tipped his head from side to side, considering. On the one hand, he was ecstatic that Logan had a group of friends to invite over so soon after moving to St. George. On the other hand, he didn’t want them unsupervised. “Let me talk to Zeek and see if he can hang out while you guys are there.” Friday nights were usually his day off. “And no girls.”

  Logan groaned. Isaac laughed. “Foiled your plans with the ladies, did I?”

  “No!” Logan blushed right through the phone.

  “Those are my terms.”

  “Fine.”

  The water shut off. Isaac said goodbye quickly. He wanted to be in his pajamas before Harper came out—he’d shower in the locker room in the morning if he had to, but there was no way he was going to get in there where her floral soap and shampoo lingered. It was hard enough being crammed in the same hotel room with her. He needed to be smart or he’d lose his head.

  Turned out he didn’t need to worry too much about hurrying. Harper didn’t come out of the bathroom until the blankets had been delivered, Isaac had changed and made his bed, and he’d watched the recap of three MLB games on SPORTSNetwork.

  “I still feel bad about you sleeping on the floor,” she said as she slid between the sheets.

  Isaac punched his pillow. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She turned the other way and the dark, comfortable silence descended between them. Soon, her breathing was deep and soft.

  Isaac had told her it was fine that he sleep on the floor. Except it wasn’t. The floor was cold and hard beneath him. Harper’s scent was everywhere—driving him mad as he tossed and turned. He fanned the blankets for temporary relief, only to be freshly assaulted with lavender or roses or whatever she slathered on herself a moment later. He used to love road trips, but five nights in this room would be torture.

  19

  Isaac tugged his hat down low in an effort to hide the disappointment and frustration that no doubt poured from his features. They’d lost their first game against Colorado by two runs. Not embarrassing, but frustratingly close enough that he’d pumped the team with If we play harder, we can take these guys.

  They had five starting pitchers. Jackson Kimber was their only left-hander and he had the best performance rate. The other four had good, solid arms and were smart. Two of them were young enough that they were still finding their stride, but the coaching staff had high expectations for both of them. With five pitchers on rotation, Jackson only pitched once a series—lately, that was one too many times for Isaac.

  Like tonight. In the first and second innings he’d given up five runs, digging the Redrocks a hole. A great big hole that these guys didn’t need right now. They were finally feeling good. The air in the locker room was one of cautious optimism. They weren’t jumping on his bandwagon and encouraging speeches quite yet, but they were headed that direction.

  Except Jackson. He scoffed at Isaac and the rest of the coaching staff, needled the other players, and continually gave half an effort.

  Since they were playing in the National League, Jackson had to take his turn in the batter’s box. His lack of enthusiasm at batting practice was starting to show. Like a grass stain that wouldn’t go away, this guy was leaving a bad mark on the team in general. Something needed to be done … Isaac just wasn’t sure what.

  * * *

  That night, the question of what to do with Jackson Kimber gnawed at Isaac like bedbugs. If only he could attribute his discomfort to bedbugs. Since he was once again on the floor, with the hardwood messing with his lower back, Jackson Kimber took all the blame.

  Sometime around midnight, Harper sighed. Lifting herself onto one elbow, she asked, “Do you want to switch?”

  Guilt washed over Isaac. He forced himself to hold still. Lying flat on his back, he pulled the blankets up to his chest and folded hands on top. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She lay down, facing the ceiling too. “You didn’t. You kept me up.”

  “More sorry.” He grinned in the dark. Not that he was glad he’d kept her awake, but he’d forgotten what it was like to have someone to be awake with when life wasn’t great. Not that Amy had been that person, not really. She had no problem sending him to the couch if he interfered with her beauty sleep. The hushed quiet that had settled over the hotel seeped under the door and add
ed a sense of intimacy to their conversation.

  “What’s bothering you?” she asked.

  Maybe it was the late hour or maybe it was the sense of teamwork they’d forged by co-parenting Logan, but Isaac was able to speak without reservation. “I heard Colorado’s owner brag that they sold out our series.”

  “Yeah.” He could hear Harper’s grin. “He was pleased with the numbers we brought in. Not bad for a podunk team from Utah.”

  “Not bad at all.”

  She rolled over, tucking her pillow under her chin. “Jackson didn’t do well today.”

  Isaac didn’t sense any of the tension that usually accompanied a conversation about their star pitcher. He could barely make out the soft lines on Harper’s face, the outline of her jaw and her thick eyelashes. Guys weren’t supposed to notice things like that, but on Harper, he noticed everything. “No, he did not.”

  “Is he in a slump?”

  “He’s not practicing hard enough.”

  “I know he likes to fool around, but …” She trailed off, out of excuses.

  Isaac rolled over to face the bed, leaning on his elbow. “The guys that make it this far can’t coast on raw talent. They have to continually develop their skills. Tuning a swing can take six years, because it’s figuring out exactly how to make the big muscles and the little muscles and the eyes and the head all work in sync. And then being able to do it on a consistent basis. Jackson isn’t interested in that kind of work.”

  “I once heard him tell Dad that he was excited to be the top dog on the team because there wasn’t anyone better on the field.”

  Isaac rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Harper teased.

  He laughed.

  She sighed. “Dad threw a lot of money into Jackson’s contract hoping to build the team around him.”

  “There’s only one problem: he’s not the type of guy you build a team around.”

  “He’s very good at hiding that fact—at least when you first meet him.”

  Unless you’re the new coach.