Her Surprise Engagement

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Her Surprise Engagement Page 4

by Cari Lynn Webb


  He listened to the message twice. Nichole was calling in her favor owed. Expected him to honor his promise made a decade earlier. She’d always expected him to be better. Do better. As if she’d always known he could be more. He grinned from the inside out. He hadn’t accepted a challenge from Nichole in entirely too long.

  He pressed the reply button and agreed to meet her for drinks at Glasshouse Inn. It wasn’t one of the city’s hot spots. Glasshouse Inn was known more for its exceptional five-star menu at its exclusive restaurant, Sapphire Cellar, than a bar scene. He wouldn’t have to worry about damaging his reputation tonight.

  Besides, he’d be with Nichole Moore, the high school class valedictorian and his onetime conscience. What could possibly go wrong?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “CHASE. YOU REALLY CAME.” Nichole exhaled, trying with difficulty to raise the volume of her voice. Now if she could just get out the words: Can you help me close this deal? She drew a breath and then choked on it as energy—the nervous, fluttery kind—streamed through her. But this was Chase.

  “I had to.” Chase tipped his head. “It’s the first time ever you asked for my help.” One side of his mouth eased up into his cheek—part smirk, part grin and all parts appealing.

  And just like that, the distance of a decade apart dwindled to simple seconds. She recognized that grin. The one that suggested there were wagers to be placed. Apologies to be accepted. Bad decisions to be overlooked. He’d won over high school teachers, college professors, countless reporters and now the public too with that one particular look.

  He ordered a soda and sat on the barstool beside her as if he was taking his usual seat at the kitchen table to work on American Lit. Only their knees collided and remained connected. The simple contact both distracting and reassuring. This was worse than her clumsiness.

  Can you help me? “I just wanted to catch up with an old friend. It’s been a while.”

  He’d been her only true friend in high school. He’d once called her fearless and she’d believed him. She’d also believed in true love and happily-ever-afters. How she missed the naive strength and foolish wonder they’d once possessed together.

  “We could’ve played the catch-up game online or over text.” He shrugged, only one shoulder and one corner of his mouth lifted. His usual misleading smile eased back into place. “But you told me to come here. In person.”

  “You’ve improved at following orders.” She smiled.

  His grin widened. The wealthy, successful bachelor humoring his brainy, bookish friend. And she completely lost her nerve.

  “What is it you need?” he asked.

  That deep timbre of a voice always on the verge of releasing a contagious laugh flowed over Nichole. Familiar, though different. “I...this was a mistake. I’ve read about you.” About his philanthropy. His multimillion-dollar contracts. His dates with models and his endless adventures.

  He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. Twice. “You’ve been following me then. That’s nice to know.”

  His green eyes, sharper and more intense than she remembered, scattered her inner calm. “I follow stock market trends, weather forecasts and the classified ads too.” She had to get rid of him, end this awkward walk down memory lane, then step into her dinner meeting and her future.

  “But you read about me first,” he teased and bumped his shoulder into hers. “Admit it.”

  “If I say yes, will you join me for dinner tonight?” No. Wrong question. Nichole’s words hung between them, unretractable.

  “This is starting to feel like a date.” Chase lowered his soda glass and stared at her like he used to when he’d wanted to distract her from their studies. He’d guess her mood by naming the different shades of brown in her hazel eyes. Now his gaze hinted at more than a silly game.

  “This is the favor owed.” Nichole grabbed her glass and drank the water fast. The cold water was like splashing ice on a sunburn. Temporary and fleeting. She was aware of Chase like a full body sunburn, uncomfortable and distressing. “Besides, I don’t date. I’m a single mom with a son.”

  “Single parent.” Chase nodded. “You have all my respect.”

  His mom had raised him and his two sisters alone. In interviews, he never missed the opportunity to thank his mom or express his love for her. He understood Nichole’s struggle the same as he’d understood her reserve in high school. He knew her secrets and had never judged her for them. “Wesley is eleven and everything a preteen boy is—energetic, funny and messy. Thankfully he inherited his father’s one redeeming quality—his physical grace.”

  “I could get him into the Pioneers’ Spring Break camp next week, if you want.” He sounded relaxed and pleased to make the offer. “It usually fills up fast, but I know some people. I can make a couple of calls.”

  “You’d do that?” Would you also help me close my deal? Nichole pictured her son: gangly arms and legs on a skinny frame. Too many freckles to count and a laugh that took over his whole body. Her love for Wesley was limitless. Surely her sudden awareness of Chase had to be fleeting. A simple glitch from their time apart. “You don’t even know him.”

  “But I know you.” The boy she’d once considered her best friend, now a man, scooted closer. Gone was the attention-stealing, misdirecting full grin. In its place, a soft smile. A strong shoulder to rest her head on and a warm, compassionate gaze that centered on her.

  She leaned toward Chase as if they’d seen each other yesterday and the day before that. As if he’d asked what was really on her mind like he’d done so many times in the past and had genuinely wanted to know. She whispered, “I pray every day I’m enough for Wesley. That the void of a missing parent never consumes him.”

  Her words fell into that familiar space between them. That space she’d never quite found with anyone else.

  “You’re more than enough.” He set his hand on top of hers, steady and secure.

  The warmth from his hand spread through her. But the simple touch confirmed their connection had endured despite the time and the distance. “How are you always so sure?”

  “I had this tutor once who had refused to let me fail.” The affection in his gaze was true. “She made me believe.”

  “She sounds like an amazing woman.” She picked up her water glass and toasted him.

  “Well, Nonna always liked you the best.” He tapped his soda against her water glass.

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” Although she had adored his entire family. The Jacobs clan had welcomed Nichole into their home and accepted her from the very first introductions. The Jacobs house had been the only place outside her grandparents’ farm where Nichole had been comfortable.

  “You were my only girlfriend who cleared her plate for every meal at my family’s house.” Chase chuckled. “Of course, Nonna liked you the best.”

  The word girlfriend thudded inside Nichole’s chest, displacing her ribs and her common sense. She focused on the facts. “I was the only girl you allowed your family to meet in high school.”

  “It wasn’t only high school.” Chase rolled his glass between his hands and looked away.

  Before she could challenge Chase, two businessmen approached the bar entrance. The only two that Nichole had seen arrive in the past half hour. Only five minutes until the reservation for her meeting. The one that could change her family’s lives. So much to gain. So much to lose. Heat enveloped her, followed by a cold, encompassing shiver.

  “I do need your help.” But only this once. Then she’d go back to relying on her own shoulders. After all, she was Nichole Moore, always practical, predictable and levelheaded. Chase was fearless, reckless and completely wrong for her. She glanced at Chase. “I need you to help me believe now. To help me fight for my vision and my dream.”

  He shifted and looked at the two guys who’d just arrived. “I’m going to assume your dinner i
nvitation wasn’t for a date.”

  Nichole stood, swung her tote bag over her shoulder. She swayed and curled her toes inside her new heels to find her balance. “It’s a business dinner. A really important one.”

  He rose and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “What kind of business dinner?”

  “The kind that could make or break me.” Her bag slid off her shoulder toward her elbow, knocking against her knee. Josie had recommended a simple clutch. Brooke had suggested a small sleek briefcase. Nichole hadn’t listened. Now her oversize tote and tangled thoughts about Chase knocked her off-balance again.

  “What do you need me to do?” He pulled his wallet out, paid for the soda.

  “Stand beside me.” He’d stood in her line of sight during her campaign speech for class treasurer in high school. She’d lost that popularity contest. She couldn’t lose tonight. “I just really need a familiar face.”

  “I can do that.” Chase held out his arm and waited for her to set her arm around his. “Lead the way.”

  Thankfully, Chase never pressed her for more information. Most likely she couldn’t have answered appropriately anyway. She was too busy concentrating on not leaning into his side. Not giving in to the relief snaking through her with Chase beside her. Not letting herself weave her fingers around his and hold on as if he was suddenly her anchor. That was all kinds of foolishness for someone as levelheaded as her.

  Nichole greeted the hostess for the restaurant and followed the woman toward a private dining room. Two men wearing black suits and ties rose and stepped around a square table. Floor-to-ceiling wine shelves encased in glass made up two walls. The other two were lined in cork for an intimate setting. A setting for business deals, tough negotiations or romantic interludes. Nichole’s four-inch heels failed to stiffen her spine.

  “You look really good, by the way.” Chase’s voice whispered across her neck. “Powerful and in charge.”

  Nichole offered a quick nod. His hand dropped onto her lower back and propelled her forward. When had she stopped walking? She inhaled a deep breath of Chase’s spicy cologne, which scattered her already short-circuiting focus.

  The executives she only knew by name after several emails and two phone calls came forward. Neither one bothered to hide their excitement that an all-pro football player stood before them. She had to make this happen. It was now or never for her business deal.

  Nichole stepped slightly in front of Chase and blurted, “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Chase Jacobs.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MY HUSBAND.

  Nichole’s matter-of-fact words slammed inside Chase’s head like a helmet-to-helmet hit. He waited for the ref’s whistle. The shrill sound that would disrupt the momentum and pause the moment.

  Two gentlemen in coordinated business suits stepped forward, hands outstretched in greeting, smiles restrained by the boundaries of professional politeness.

  Time continued to run down. No one called an audible. No one changed the play—the one that called for a pretend marriage. The moment never paused.

  “Congratulations. I’m Vick Ingram.” Vick, the stockier of the duo, his midsection relaxed by more than one good meal, shook Nichole’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you and your new husband.” Vick turned to Chase. Speculation added dimension to the man’s plain brown gaze. “Offensive player of the year three seasons straight, four-time Pro Bowler and more than three hundred and fifty touchdowns. That’s quite a career.”

  “The news of your sudden marriage is quite big too. I’m Glenn Hill.” The knot on Glenn’s tie was one tug away from sloppy. The unfastened top button of his dress shirt signaled his lack of effort with his attire. As if he wasn’t serious about this particular meeting.

  “It’s a recent development.” Nichole’s words rushed out.

  So recent, Chase hadn’t been aware marriage vows were part of the favor owed.

  “We’re still adjusting to our new status,” Nichole rambled on. “There’s a lot of details to be worked out.”

  So many details that they’d need a lengthy one-on-one conversation to hash through them all.

  Vick’s grin appeared genuine. “Love can be a whirlwind.”

  Or a complete hoax.

  “But it also makes for the best headlines.” Glenn rubbed his hands together. “It’s surprising I haven’t read about the sport’s favorite playboy bachelor finally getting hitched. You’re one of the internet’s favorite topics.”

  The best headlines were often the most lucrative. Chase wondered about the guy and straightened into his full height.

  “Vick and Glenn are senior partners in Fund Infusion.” Nichole shifted toward Chase. “Their firm has offered to invest in the app I designed and built.”

  So much hope swirled in Nichole’s hazel gaze. Too much. She trusted these two men with her dream. Why? Chase trusted these men about as much as he trusted any defensive player to tag him rather than tackle him during a game. In other words, not at all. Concern, not confidence, stiffened his shoulders.

  “Aren’t you going to share the details of your wedding?” Glenn adjusted his tie as if their wedding news was more than worth his full consideration. “I’d love to know. After all, we’re friends.”

  Friends. Not exactly. Chase wrapped his arm around Nichole, tucked her into his side. “We’d like to keep this affair private. As friends, I’m sure we can count on your discretion until we’ve made a public announcement.”

  “Of course.” Vick’s gaze slanted sideways toward his business partner, making the assurance in his words all the more suspect.

  “If you change your mind, we’re more than interested in hearing a good love story.” Glenn’s smirk was obvious despite the mustache covering his entire top lip.

  “Perhaps you’d also be interested in reviewing the business plan I put together.” Nichole’s crisp professionalism was clear, but the underlying plea caught Chase off guard.

  That wasn’t a challenge. That was a dropped ball on what should’ve been a touchdown scoring pass. Chase glanced at Nichole.

  Chase Jacobs, you’re a cheater.

  Yes, I am.

  That admission had rocked Nichole’s bluster, but she’d never wavered. Never walked away.

  Where was the Nichole who’d always challenged Chase’s motives and his integrity? She looked like the slightest nudge would topple her over. He secured his hold around her waist and his guard.

  “Now that you’ve married Chase Jacobs, you could simply give your program away for free.” Glenn’s mustache twitched, revealing his smirk again.

  Chase smoothed out his smile. The man had dismissed Nichole’s program. Dismissed Nichole. Surely Nichole noticed that slight. Surely Nichole would challenge Glenn now.

  “I did not marry Chase for his money.” Although the sudden lost thread in her voice hinted at her uncertainty.

  Chase searched Nichole’s face. What would motivate someone like Nichole Moore to marry someone like Chase? He blinked. Definitely not the topic for this evening. But the question stuck inside him like a clump of grass smashed into his face guard. An unavoidable nuisance and difficult to remove.

  The doubt and worry lingering in Nichole’s gaze reinforced his conviction. For the first time in far too long, Chase wanted to rescue someone other than himself.

  Chase took Nichole’s hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Color tinged her cheeks, faint and all too charming. The longer she held Chase’s gaze, the less put out she looked. Satisfaction pulsed inside him. “Money was certainly my motivation for marrying Nichole. She’s my retirement plan.”

  “Then we should discuss your wife’s program and the potential for it to be a profitable retirement plan over a fantastic meal.” Vick’s good-humored laughter rolled around them, ushering them to the dinner table.

  “If I recall corre
ctly, you were quoted comparing the Hail Mary pass to marriage.” Glenn dropped into the chair across from Chase, stirred an olive around in his glass and eyed him. “You claimed both had the same success rate—very low.”

  Chase recalled that particular interview. He still believed marriage and Hail Mary passes were similar in that both failed more often than not. But his views had no impact on his fake marriage. He treated Glenn like any other dogged reporter and neither confirmed nor denied.

  “You’ve never thrown a Hail Mary pass. You’ve said it isn’t part of your game plan.” Glenn combed his fingers through his mustache. “Now you have to adjust your outlandish off-field lifestyle to include a wife. How will that work?”

  No adjustments required. Fake was fake. And his fake marriage dissolved at the end of the evening. There’d be no glass slipper, no hint that a fantasy would turn into real life. Marriage appealed to him as much as a borrowed helmet. Neither were a good fit. Both disrupted his focus and detracted him from success on the football field.

  Still, Chase was adjusting remarkably well to his sudden, albeit temporary, role as husband. Every word Glenn spoke honed Chase’s protective edge. He scooted his chair closer to Nichole and rested his arm on the back of Nichole’s. “As with any new team you learn as you go.”

  And he was quickly learning how much he liked being close to Nichole.

  “Let’s order!” Vick handed out the menus. He lacked the yellow flag to signal an offside penalty but maintained the professional poise of a seasoned ref. “What appetizers would everyone enjoy?”

  Glenn folded his hands together on top of his closed menu and studied Nichole. “Ms. Moore, or rather Mrs. Jacobs, about that business plan?”

  “Nichole is fine.” Nichole lowered her menu and reached into her bulky tote bag on the floor, pulling out a binder. “I understand an app is not a business. However, the plan includes market analysis, financial projections and a full marketing strategy.”

 

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