A breath of relief escapes me as I open the door and let him through. And even though he’s only the delivery boy and not some kind of surprise blind date, I still wonder if my sisters have an ulterior motive.
“Hi.” He walks by and the smell of delicious American food permeates the room, causing me to forget about everything else in the world except the dinner this guy is carrying.
Oh, how I’ve missed it. I think I’ve missed the food here more than anything else. I can smell the barbeque sauce and I can only hope it’s Mitchell’s famous pulled pork. There are just some things you can’t get abroad, and good barbeque is one of them.
Jarod does a double take after he walks past me. “Wow,” he says, looking back and eyeing me up and down. “You could be Baylor, only a little younger and with some um . . . eccentricities.”
I nod to his many tats and the gauges in his ears. “I have eccentricities?” I say flatly.
He laughs, putting the bag on the table and pulling out several boxes of food that, no matter how tired I am, have my mouth fully waking up and ready for a feast. “I heard you’ll be in town for a while. If you need anybody to show you around, I’m your guy.”
I grab a fork and dig in, not waiting for the others and not caring what a pig I must look like. “No, you’re not my guy,” I mumble through my mouthful of delicious pork. “And I basically grew up around here. I don’t need the dime-store tour.”
He looks slightly taken aback. I see him question my sisters with his eyes. They shrug their shoulders and then Skylar thanks him for the delivery. “You’re a doll, Jarod. I really appreciate this.”
“No problem.” He turns away, not bothering to give me another look. “Let Griffin know I said hi, and tell him I’ll see him at the gym sometime.”
Skylar nods and they say their goodbyes as I scarf down the meal like a starving rat eating a prized piece of cheese.
“So, there’s a gym nearby?” I ask. As long as I’m stuck living at Skylar’s, I can at least spend part of every day at the gym. And if I work at the restaurant, that will afford me as little time here as possible. I look over at Skylar, who’s now nursing Aaron from her other flagrantly exposed boob.
Baylor feeds Jordan a spoonful of pureed baby food. “Yes, just down the street. The best in New York.” She turns to give Skylar a wink.
I swallow a bite of pork, licking the delectable sauce from my lips. “Well, do you think they’d let me join for just a couple of months while I’m here?”
“Probably,” Skylar shouts over her shoulder. “Considering Griffin, Gavin and Mason own it. Well, most of it anyway. Some corporation still owns forty percent, but the guys are buying them out over the next few years.”
My brows come together as I try to understand this. “They own a gym? Why would a movie producer and a photographer want to own a gym?”
“And a football player,” Baylor adds.
“Football player?” I take a bite of the creamy mashed potatoes.
Skylar shakes her head. “Do you not listen in at all when we Skype you on girls’ nights? Mason always comes up one way or another.”
“Mason plays football?” I tilt my head and study her. “Oh, yeah, maybe I did hear something you said about that.” I shrug my unimpressed shoulders. “I try not to listen when you and your friends get all hot and heavy over guys.”
Skylar and Baylor share a look. Baylor lets out an audible sigh and goes back to feeding her daughter.
“Not only does he play football,” Skylar says, buttoning up her shirt, “he plays for the Giants.” She stands up and puts Aaron on her shoulder, walking towards the kitchen as she burps him. “Well, not every game. Not most games, in fact. He’s their backup quarterback. Actually, he was supposed to be their quarterback until he got screwed over by the guy who didn’t retire. Johnny something—I can’t even remember his name. I don’t really follow football, but I will start when Mason—”
“Skylar?” I interrupt. “Is there a point to your rambling?”
“Oh . . . uh, I just thought you might be interested in who your best man is.”
“You mean your best man, Skylar.” I get up from the table, not even finishing my dinner. There are entirely too many babies making too many disgusting little noises to keep eating. “Anyway, I don’t care about who he is. And now that I know he’s a famous football player, I want to know even less about him. It does explain the flashy car, however. I’m sure he has it just to impress the ladies. What a dick.” I spell it out for them, “D-I-C-K, not D-I-X. So, don’t you dare try to set me up with him—or anyone else for that matter.”
Another look passes between my sisters. “Set you up with Mason?” Baylor laughs. “No. That wouldn’t happen even if you wanted it to. That man hasn’t shown interest in anyone in years.”
“Of course not,” I say. “He has a girlfriend.”
Skylar chokes on her drink. “Girlfriend? Mason? No, he doesn’t. He hasn’t been interested in anyone since Cassidy. That was over two years ago and we all know how that turned out.”
“But earlier in the car, he told me he was in love.” I scratch my head in confusion. “I think his exact words were ‘I love her more than I ever thought one human being could love another’.”
Baylor smiles. “Oh, you mean Hailey.”
I shrug. “He never told me her name.”
Laughing, Skylar says, “He didn’t tell you Hailey is his daughter and not his girlfriend? That’s classic Mason.”
“His what?” I look between my sisters. “Isn’t he a bit young to have a daughter?” I cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth.
Baylor raises her eyebrows at me. “I was younger than he was, Pipes. He’s twenty-two. Plenty old enough to have kids.”
“Kids?” I gasp. “As in more than one?”
“No, just Hailey.” Skylar places Aaron in a bassinette. “She’s about twenty months old, wouldn’t you say, Baylor?”
Baylor nods. “God, that child is freaking adorable. Thank goodness she got her looks from her dad and not her bitch of a mom.”
Thankfully, before I get to hear any more about the adorable little girl, the front door opens and in walks a gaggle of men. And one very cute nine-year-old boy.
“Aunt Piper!” Maddox runs across the floor and jumps into my arms.
“Mad Max!” I squeeze him tightly and spin him around. I have the best memories of Maddox. Baylor had him when she was nineteen. She moved home to work at Mitchell’s and finish her degree, so she needed a lot of help from me. I was only fourteen at the time, but I became his primary babysitter. Until I left. But those few years were all it took to forge a lasting bond between the two of us. He’s the only kid I really truly love to pieces. I mean, sure, I like the other ones. But I know I’ll never connect with them the way I connected with Maddox.
Maddox and I catch up while the others remove their coats and head over to grab a bite to eat. No wonder they ordered so much.
Gavin pulls me into a bear hug. We’ve only met the one time, at his and Baylor’s wedding, but he’s my brother-in-law, so I let him hug me. Then Skylar introduces me to Griffin, who thanks me profusely for coming back to town to help plan their big day.
Mason raises his chin to me in greeting. No hug. No handshake from his extraordinarily large hand. Not even a word of hello. Geez, dick is right. It’s just as well. I don’t want to know him either. Not beyond the wedding duties bestowed upon us from Skylar and Griffin.
Baylor puts Jordan into a play saucer, keeping her busy with all of the toys at her eye level. “Gavin, Piper wants to run in the Boston Marathon. Do you have any strings you can pull at the studio to get her in?”
He ponders her question and then shakes his head. “I’ll ask around, but I don’t think so. We worked with the New York Marathon quite a bit.” He turns to me. “Too bad you missed it last month, I could have for sure gotten you into that one.” He points his fork at Mason. “What about you, Mason—can the Giants get her in?”
/> Mason gives Gavin a look of death. He spears him with his eyes as if Gavin has just asked him to cut off his throwing arm. Then Mason turns to me. He stares at my two-toned hair. His eyes hone in on my nose piercing. “You’re an athlete?”
My jaw drops at his inconsiderate remark. “Not an athlete. A runner.” I close my eyes briefly, thinking of the poetic accuracy of that statement.
Mason shakes his head. “You’re not an athlete. Athletes don’t have nose piercings, neon-colored fingernails, and weird hair. And your legs are too short to make good qualifying times. You know you have to have good qualifying times, right?”
I refrain from shouting expletives at the man, due to the fact that my impressionable nine-year-old nephew is sitting in the kitchen. Instead, I calmly pour myself another glass of champagne and drink it down completely.
“Plus, athletes don’t drink like sailors on leave,” he adds.
That’s it. I walk over behind Maddox and cup my hands over his ears. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Mason. How dare you assume that because I’m a little different, I can’t possibly be someone who could have anything in common with the kind of person you are. Which at this point, I’m sure is a self-centered, fame-hungry man-whore with a tiny little penis who drives an over-the-top car to attract anything with a vagina. Well, listen up, Dick, and listen good. I’m registered with AIMS, which I’m sure with your pea-sized jock-brain, you don’t know stands for the Association of International Marathons. And I assure you I have more than enough certified qualifying times to run in the Boston Marathon. I’m sure, in fact, that this little girl with her short legs and nose piercing could beat the ass off your big-boned, callus-handed, narcissistic marathon time.”
I remove my hands from Maddox’s ears and kiss the top of his head before walking away. It’s then I notice the entire room has gone silent and all eyes are pinballing between Mason and me.
Mason walks over and ruffles Maddox’s hair before proceeding to cover his ears just as I did. “In my off-season, I’ve been training for the marathon. And yes, I can get you in. So, Piper Mitchell—game fucking on!”
He walks to the fridge and helps himself to a beer. His faded, snug jeans show off his tapered waist and muscular thighs. He gulps half the bottle down as the rest of us watch, stunned into silence. “And I’ll even let you work with my trainer at the gym,” he adds. “You’ll like her. She’s got funky hair and odd piercings, too.” He picks up an unopened box of food and tucks it under his arm. Finishing his beer, he puts the empty bottle in the trash and walks to the door. “Now if you guys will excuse me, I have to go pick up Hailey. It’s my weekend.” He reaches the door handle and turns back to me. “You can start Monday. After you’ve recovered from your jet lag. But for Christ’s sake—quit drinking.”
I stare at the closed door long after he walks through it. Then I look back at my sisters who are gaping at me. “Ugh! Me stop drinking? He just chugged a beer. How do you guys put up with that man?” I walk over and pour myself another glass of champagne just out of spite, knowing I’ll have one hell of a hangover in the morning.
I lean against the counter and take a sip of the bubbly liquid. Then I notice the room is still so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“You like him!” Skylar’s smile spans ear to ear and she’s practically bouncing in her chair. “Oh, my God, Piper—you like a boy. You’re not gay!”
Champagne spurts from my mouth at her words. “Gay—you thought I was gay?” I look from Skylar to Baylor, gauging their reactions.
“Well, you’ve never talked about a boyfriend. You seem to have such a . . . distaste for men,” Baylor says. “And then there is Charlie—”
“Who is my best friend,” I assert. “Not my girlfriend. Charlie, my heterosexual friend who is currently shacking up with some random guy she shagged last year while she waits for me to return. Which is one more reason I can’t stay here a minute longer than necessary. And like Mason? That jerk—are you kidding me? I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. I’m sure he’s just like all the other stuck-up athletes who think they’re God’s gift to mankind. No, the only interest I have in him is that he can get me into the marathon.”
My sisters share another look. When did they get so damn good at nonverbal communication with each other?
“Whatever,” I pout. I fetch my heavy suitcase and head for the stairs. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”
Griffin hops up and grabs my suitcase from me. “Let me show you to your room.”
And only because I’m about to fall over from jet lag, alcohol and frustration, I let a man help me.
chapter four
mason
Gavin and Griffin run up behind me on the indoor track, flanking my sides. “Training for the Boston Marathon, huh?” Gavin asks. “Since when?”
“I’ll bet since about two seconds after Piper said she could beat him,” Griffin says.
They laugh and sprint ahead of me, not needing to pace themselves like I do. I shake my head at my stupidity for the tenth time since I opened my big mouth yesterday. I’ve never been the kind of person who is overly competitive. That might come as a surprise for some, considering my profession. And maybe it explains why I chose to stay with the Giants after Henley’s retirement retraction instead of trying to get traded for a starting position. But for some reason, that girl—that woman—rubs me the wrong way and I couldn’t help but accept her challenge.
I didn’t sleep very well last night. I wondered if I had made false promises. I didn’t know for sure if I could even get in the race myself, let alone get Piper in. But this morning, when the charity coordinator for the Giants organization returned my call saying it was all good, I breathed a sigh of relief. Or maybe it was a sigh of exasperation knowing how I let her get under my skin again. After all, I did have to pledge five figures on each of our behalves.
One day. I’ve known Piper Mitchell for one goddamn day and can’t stop thinking about her. She’s nothing like the women I used to be attracted to. Nothing like Hailey’s mom. Nothing like the swarms of fans who try to drape themselves all over me when they find out I play pro ball.
“Speaking of Piper,” Gavin says, as they come up behind me again, lapping me on the quarter-mile track.
I give him a hard stare. “I wasn’t speaking of Piper—you were.” I slow my pace, thinking they’ll just run ahead of me.
I watch the two of them turn around and jog backwards. “You interested, Dix?” Griffin asks.
I play dumb. “Interested in what?”
“Interested in Piper, you tool.”
Of course I’m interested. Who wouldn’t be? Well, with the exception of guys who don’t like pushy, stubborn, infuriating women. What the hell am I thinking?
“Of course not.” I check my watch and head off the track to find a towel. “No offense, because you guys are with her sisters and all, but she’s a grade-A bitch.”
We all take a towel from the stack and wipe our faces. Gavin furrows his brow. “Then why accept her challenge? And why the marathon? I mean, that’s a pretty big undertaking, Mason.”
“I need to push myself. The stronger I get, the more likely I’ll win that starting position.”
“When do you report back for off-season conditioning?” Griffin asks.
“April 22nd,” I say. Then I wait for it.
“Two days after the marathon?” Griffin shakes his head at me, laughing. “Dude, do you have a death wish?”
“It’s all good,” I tell them. “The first two weeks of conditioning are limited to strength training and rehabilitation. We don’t get into the heavy stuff for a while.”
Gavin snaps me with his towel. “Rehab—well that sounds about right, after running a marathon.”
“You sure you’re okay with our May 15th wedding date?” Griffin asks. “Isn’t that right in the middle of off-season training?”
“I’m sure, G. I already checked with the training coordinator. We don’t condi
tion on weekends until closer to pre-season and there are really only ten mandatory days of mini-camps that I need to attend. But I plan on being there every chance I get. I’m even going to the rookie camp. I need to show everyone I’ve got what it takes, and sometimes that works better doing it from the ground up.”
“We know you have what it takes, Dix.” Griffin throws his dirty towel into the hamper. “Johnny Henley really screwed you over. But, man, you’ve handled it with grace and dignity—that’s nothing to be taken lightly. You’ll get there one day. We all have faith in you.”
Faith. Every time I hear that word, I think of Griffin’s first wife, Erin. She was always talking about faith, fate and family and how you should trust each to guide you. God, I miss her.
Thinking of Erin reminds me that I promised to take Skylar to get a tattoo. She wants to surprise Griffin by getting the same tattoo Erin had. Looking in from the outside, one would think their situation was really messed up. On the contrary, I think Skylar and Griffin are my fucking heroes. Not many people could have done what they did. Take a crappy situation and turn it into something great.
“You coming to brunch tomorrow?” Gavin shouts from the shower stall next to mine.
Brunch. I love Sunday brunch with the Mitchell gang, especially when I have Hailey with me. They dote on her and she loves playing with Maddox and the babies. But going would mean having another run-in with the youngest Mitchell sister. After last night, I don’t think it would be wise. I don’t want to ruin brunch for everyone, and I think a few days without seeing Piper will help me gain a little perspective. I don’t need complications in my life that could distract me from my goal of becoming a starter. Hailey and football—that’s all I can handle right now. That’s all I want to handle.
After our showers, we agree to meet for drinks tomorrow and then I head to the gym daycare to grab my daughter.
I look through the large picture window to see Hailey playing next to a few other toddlers. I stare at her through the glass. She still takes my breath away every time I see her. She has this little cherub face framed by my platinum-blonde hair. I tried to tie it up into a bow, but I’m far from perfecting it and it has once again come loose, causing her long hair to mess and tangle. I know I’m in for some tears later when I brush it out. But first, I’m going to take her to the park. She loves the horses. And I will do anything to see her gorgeous little smile.
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