Baby It's You (Seven Brides Seven Brothers Book 6)

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Baby It's You (Seven Brides Seven Brothers Book 6) Page 3

by Calhoune, Belle


  “Hey, kiddo. I’m doing great. How about you?”

  “I’m doing really great. Today was the best day ever! ‘Cause now I have a dad. Dad says that together we can do anything.” AJ’s voice shimmered with happiness.

  Wyatt felt tears pricking his eyes. AJ’s birth father had never been in his life. Rose had raised her son as a working, single mother who balanced the needs of the household with her tremendous love for her son. She’d worked as Brandon’s secretary at his multi-million dollar corporation for many years before catching his eye and capturing his heart.

  Brandon, with his big heart and protective nature, would give AJ all the things a son could want or need in this world. They were all so very blessed. Wyatt had no doubt that God had been watching over Rose and AJ until Brandon could enter their lives as a husband and father.

  “You have a wonderful family, AJ. So proud you’re a Donahue now,” Wyatt said, holding up his hand for a high five. AJ slapped it enthusiastically.

  Brandon was officially adopting AJ and giving him the Donahue family name. Just the thought of it brightened Wyatt’s spirits. No matter how low he felt he’d sunk lately, God was showing him that there were beacons shining in the darkness. AJ leaned down and placed his arms around his neck, hugging him as if his life depended on it. For the first time in a long time, Wyatt felt a kernel of hope coming to life inside him. Even in the darkest of days, there was light.

  “The best thing about having a wide open heart is that you never know who or what is going to come knocking on it.”

  Gabrielle Donahue

  Chapter Two

  The peal of his doorbell ringing sounded like nails scratching against a chalk board. Who in the world was foolish enough to come by his house today? Hadn’t he told everyone to leave him alone to his misery? It would be just like Remy or Blue to show up at his door in an attempt to cheer him up. Remy had been saying he wanted to paint his portrait. Or maybe it was Nick bringing him lunch from his restaurant. Or Mac trying to wrestle him into submission.

  Humph! It was easy for them to be as happy as clams. Five of them were newlyweds, and all but one of his brothers was blissfully in love. Although Mac was still single, he was the type who never let anything get to him. It didn’t seem to bother him at all that they were the only ones who hadn’t found love.

  And not one of them had a bum leg that had been out of commission for almost ten months straight. All six of his brothers were able to walk, run and get around without a wheelchair being their mode of transportation. Not a single one of ‘em had any business trying to micromanage his life.

  “Go away!” he shouted, not caring at the moment who was standing outside his door. Even if it was his parents, he was fully prepared to tell them to go home. Not that his mother would listen to him. She’d barrel into his house like a hurricane if she wanted to see him. And she wouldn’t hesitate to give him a tongue lashing if he dared to object.

  If she did show up on his doorstep he would never give her a hard time. She’d been through so much lately with her dementia. Things had been unraveling bit by bit and it terrified him. There had been a rash of incidents at the house. Pots left burning on the stove. Keys gone missing for days. Fits of anger that were uncharacteristic of his jovial, even-tempered mother. He couldn’t help but feel that God was giving the Donahue family way more than they could handle. Day by day everything seemed to be more complicated than the next.

  For him, the car accident had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. He’d prayed for months to get back on the field and into his Bay State Bombers uniform. Now, due to some careless teenager out joyriding, his life had been rear-ended. His career was now over. Kaput. Finished. All his dreams had gone up in a puff of smoke. And it enraged him. It wasn’t fair! He’d worked his whole life toward the goal of being a professional baseball player, only to have it snatched away from him by the cruel hands of fate. All because of a stupid kid who didn’t even have a valid license or consideration for anyone else whose life he might destroy. Not even a handwritten apology letter or a ‘sorry I torpedoed your life’ had been extended to him.

  The doorbell pealed again. In frustration he reached for the television remote and hurled it against the wall. “What part of go away and don’t darken my doorstep don’t you understand?” he screamed. He navigated his wheelchair down the hall, his anger propelling him forward at a fast clip.

  Once he reached the door he wrenched it open as a few choice words erupted from his lips. A cold blast of wintry wind hit him squarely in the face.

  “In case you didn’t hear me, I said to go away. Go away,” he roared. “And get off my property!”

  A woman stood on his doorstep with a frown marring an otherwise gorgeous face. She stood with her hands on her hips, looking perturbed. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled up into a high pony tail and her blue eyes flashed a dangerous warning. She had a cute little nose with freckles scattered across it. The perfectly shaped nose happened to be scrunched up at the moment as if she’d just smelled something nasty.

  “I’d love nothing better than to go away, considering your foul attitude, but I can’t get paid unless I have a session with you. So, if you could zip it for forty-five minutes and follow my instructions, you actually might improve your condition.” She folded her arms across her chest and began tapping her foot. “You think you can manage that, hot shot?”

  Wyatt opened his mouth, then quickly shut it. Who in the world was this bossy woman standing at his door? And who had hired her as his physical therapist?

  “Who hired you?” he growled. Maybe it had been Brandon. He’d been telling him to snap out of it for the past few weeks. Or it could have been Ryder. As the oldest brother he liked to take charge in situations like this. Wyatt snorted. They all thought they knew what was best for him. What was best in his humble opinion was to be left alone to rot. Just because he’d gone to Brandon’s wedding and the reception didn’t mean he was back on the grid.

  The looker took a step backward, her eyes growing larger by the second. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at me. Just because you’re a somewhat famous professional baseball player doesn’t give you the right to scream and yell at people.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Somewhat famous? You’re either not a baseball fan or you’ve been out of the country for the last decade. I am baseball.”

  Ugh. Why had he said that? It sounded so obnoxious. So cocky. On the bright side, maybe it would send her flying in the opposite direction out of sheer disgust.

  “Well, Mr. Baseball, I’d like to come inside and get this physical therapy session started,” she said with a smirk.

  “Wait right here!” Wyatt said, turning his wheelchair around and heading straight towards the kitchen. After a few seconds of fumbling in the top drawer below the microwave, he located his checkbook. Grabbing a pen he placed it with his checkbook in his lap.

  When he got back to the front door she was still standing there with her nicely shaped lips stuck out in annoyance. “What’s your name, Miss?” he asked, using every bit of his charm and sweetness. Ever since he’d been a kid people had told him that he could charm the birds from the trees. It was his specialty.

  “It’s Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn O’Malley,” she answered in a soft voice. She seemed to have lost a lot of her attitude after he’d toned his voice down and sweet talked her. Yep, he concluded. He’d charmed this pretty little robin right from her tree.

  He grabbed the pen and opened his checkbook. That name sounded slightly familiar. Why did he know that name? He scrawled her name on the check, then made it out for an outrageous sum of money. It was his money. He’d earned it. And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about paying her off to get rid of her. After ripping the check from the book he held it out to her. “Here’s your money, Miss O’Malley. Never let it be said that Wyatt Donahue doesn’t pay his debts.”

  Her mouth flew open as she gazed at the check. Shock registered on her face. She began to sputter. “I-I can’t accep
t this check. It’s ten times the price of a session.”

  “That’s not my problem. Consider our business done.” Wyatt reversed his wheelchair and lifted his good leg in order to kick the door closed. He smiled as it shut with a bang.

  That’ll teach his family to try and force his hand. And that should get rid of Little Miss Sunshine. For good!

  **

  Kaitlyn O’Malley stood on Wyatt Donahue’s front door with her mouth open. This ungrateful jerk had just slammed his door in her face. She let out a huff of air and counted to ten in her head. Her first instinct was to pummel his door with her fists until he opened up the door again. Then she would tell him exactly what she thought of him.

  Spoiled. Indulged. Arrogant. Fool.

  With his blonde hair, Caribbean blue eyes and amazing cheekbones, Wyatt was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. Even the few days’ worth of stubble didn’t mar his handsome face. But Lord knows his attitude stunk to high heavens.

  She’d had some belligerent clients over the years, but not a single one of them had treated her in such a rude manner. Humph! Maybe she should have taken his big fat check and headed out of Dodge. Wyatt Donahue, the golden boy of Breeze Point. All star athlete. Pro baseball player for the Bay State Bombers. Back when he’d been a senior at Breeze Point High he’d been voted best athlete as well as most popular and best looking. She’d been a year below him in school although he clearly didn’t remember her at all. And why would he? She’d been a pimply faced nerd with a serious lack of fashion style and no self-confidence. He’d never looked at her with an iota of interest. Matter of fact, he’d looked straight through her most of the time, as if she didn’t exist.

  Which was odd, considering she’d tutored him in Math and Science. For seven months straight. Shame filled her insides as she remembered the gigantic crush she’d had on Wyatt Donahue. Other than their tutoring sessions at the Donahue’s house they hadn’t had much contact. He’d barely said hello when they’d crossed paths in the corridor. Maybe a nod or a smile. And why should he have? Wyatt had been part of the in crowd while she’d struggled to fit in. She’d put him on a pedestal, adoring him from afar until he’d graduated, gone to the pros and left Breeze Point High School far behind him. He’d never known it, but he’d taken a piece of her along with him.

  And now she’d been assigned to work with him as his physical therapist. One he clearly didn’t want, yet desperately needed. Kaitlyn knew enough about athletes and injuries to know that if Wyatt Donahue wanted his fabulous sports career back, he needed to get with the program and act like a reasonable human being. Yes, he’d been through a lot. The accident had been horrific and no fault of his own. She’d seen the photos of his crumpled car in the newspapers and on television. But despite his setbacks he needed to count his blessings and figure out what he wanted at this very moment. His whole career hung in the balance, and if he didn’t get something going with his recovery, he was going to miss the opportunity to get his career back. Patients who sat back on their keisters and felt sorry for themselves hindered their own recovery. It was classic self-sabotage.

  She also knew from their shared past that Wyatt Donahue was a good person. The man who’d just answered the door bore no resemblance to the kind and funny teenager she’d tutored. He was in pain. His dreams had been crushed. He might never suit up for the Bay State Bombers again. All of that must be weighing heavily on his heart. She would give him a pass just this one time. And God help him if he played the “I’m Mr. Baseball” card again. Kaitlyn wasn’t afraid to read him the riot act.

  With a deep breath, Kaitlyn stepped forward and pressed the doorbell again. She was no longer the shy bookworm who stood in the shadows and let people walk all over her. If Wyatt Donahue thought he could get rid of her that easily, he had another think coming.

  **

  The ding of the doorbell had Wyatt wondering if he’d imagined the sound. Katie or Kassidy or whatever she called herself couldn’t be so nervy as to ring his bell again. Or could she? In addition to the doorbell he now heard some thumping sounds as if someone was banging on his front door with their fist. With a roar of frustration Wyatt wheeled himself back towards the front door, wrenching it open with every ounce of power he possessed.

  “Are you still here?” he sputtered. “I thought you’d be long gone by now. Maybe headed to the bank with that big fat check I gave you.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t use to be so rude. Granted, you did have a bit of an ego, but you always had manners.”

  Wyatt squinted at her. “Use to be? Do I know you? Or are you one of those fans who just thinks she knows Wyatt Donahue because you saw me on a commercial?”

  She flashed a perfect, pearly smile at him. Hmm. She was even prettier than he’d realized. “I should be insulted that you don’t remember me, Wyatt, but I’m willing to forgive you if you’ll give me ten minutes of your time.”

  “Remember you?” Wyatt asked with a scowl. “Who are you?” he roared. It seemed almost impossible that he might have forgotten such a stunning face.

  “As I said before, I’m Kaitlyn O’Malley.” She tapped a finger against her lips. “I’ll give you a hint. The only pi I know is apple pie.”

  “Kaitlyn? Kaitlyn?” Memories washed over him like a warm summer shower. A pretty, shy girl with a big heart and a head for math and science. Her over-sized glasses and voluminous clothes. Her head bent over her notebook as she sat at the Donahue kitchen table teaching him algebra and biology. A girl who had gazed at him with stars in her eyes. His brothers had teased him about Kaitlyn O’Malley and the huge crush she’d had on him. That had been ages ago. Twelve years at least, he figured.

  And during the last decade, Kaitlyn had transformed herself! She was now a stunner in every way imaginable. He would never had recognized her without the hint.

  “Katie,” he said in a raspy voice.

  “I go by Kaitlyn. Katie was just a nickname,” she explained.

  “You look…so different. I never would have recognized you. And the name threw me off.”

  She shrugged. “I grew up. It happens to the best of us.” She cocked her head to one side. “So, does this mean you’re going to let me in?”

  With a sigh of resignation, Wyatt moved his wheelchair to the side and allowed her passage into his home. When she moved past him he noticed the long legs encased in a pair of skinny jeans paired with a long burgundy sweater that hung past her hips. Black winter boots completed her ensemble. Her blue parka with the furry collar fit her snugly. Kaitlyn had grown up into one terrific looking woman.

  As soon as Kaitlyn entered his house she let out a low whistle of appreciation. “This is some beach house, Wyatt Donahue.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and craned her neck to get a glimpse of the stunning view of Breezy Beach. She turned back toward him, her blue eyes alight with mischief. “You always did say you were going to be rich and famous someday. You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  “Well the joke is on me.” He gestured toward his leg. “Look at how I ended up.”

  “And this too shall pass,” Kaitlyn said in a low voice. “Your current situation doesn’t have to be your future one.”

  “Sorry Susie Sunshine, I’ve been told by several doctors that it’s questionable whether I’ll ever make it back to the major leagues,” Wyatt snapped. “For me, that’s the end of it right there.”

  She whirled around to face him. “Huh. So that’s it? Amazing that a man who gives up so easily made it all the way to the pros.”

  Seriously? Was she standing in his house judging him? She didn’t have a clue what he’d been through or how much pain he was in on a daily basis. Gritting his teeth, he said, “If I were you I wouldn’t go there, Kaitlyn. Don’t pretend that you know me. It’s been a long time since high school.”

  She locked gazes with him. Her blue eyes resembled the color of a cloudless sky. “I guess it has. Because in high school you were the most determined, ambiti
ous person I’d ever met.”

  Wyatt narrowed his gaze. “Is this some sort of Jedi mind trick you’re trying to play on me? Remind me of the good old days when I was a perfect physical specimen and I wanted to take the baseball world by storm.”

  “And you did. You’ve achieved it all. Fame. Fortune. Success beyond most people’s wildest dreams.” Kaitlyn looked around his home. “You have this awesome house by the beach. I’m guessing you have a few snazzy cars in your garage. And most importantly, an amazing, loving family. I know you’re probably frustrated—”

  “I’m not just frustrated. I’m in pain. Over the top, unrelenting pain.” The words slipped out before he could reel them back in. It wasn’t something he talked about, nor was it something he wanted anyone to know. He didn’t want to be an object of pity. There had been enough medical drama in the Donahue household lately to last a lifetime.

  Being in pain wasn’t normal for him. He had a hard time dealing with it. Ever since he was a little kid he’d been taught by his birth father to keep a stiff upper lip. No crying allowed. No whining. He’d carried that with him when he’d been adopted by Maggie and Alec Donahue. So now, even though his body was wracked with pain, he’d been dealing with it on his own. His surgeon had given him a prescription for pain killers but Wyatt didn’t want to go down that road. He had a few teammates who’d gotten addicted to pain medicine. They’d gone spiraling down a dark, depressing path that had cost them everything. And coming from a family of addiction, he wanted nothing to do with pills.

  Kaitlyn frowned. “Are you on any kind of pain management regimen?”

  “No,” Wyatt mumbled. “I got a script for some pain medicine a few weeks ago, but I never filled it.”

  “Why?” Kaitlyn asked. “If you’re worried about becoming dependent on them, a doctor can help you sort that out. There’s no need to suffer. And you’re clearly suffering.”

  He suddenly felt vulnerable. Even though he hadn’t seen Kaitlyn in over a decade, she’d been able to cut right through his angry façade straight to the heart of the matter. Pain. It was hard to focus on getting his life back when he was in agony. It was difficult to laugh and joke with his family when he felt as if someone was prodding his leg with a hot poker. The pain made him feel ornery and angry and out of sorts. He’d prayed relentlessly about it, asking God to guide him out of this dark place. So far, his prayers hadn’t been answered. For most of his life his athleticism and physique had been his number one assets. If he didn’t have that, what was special about him?

 

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