Catching the Player (Hamilton Family)

by Diane Alberts

  Nah. Why would they give him two glasses?

  Groaning, he set the glass down without drinking the rest. If he was seeing double, he’d obviously already had enough. Someone slid into the seat beside him, and he turned, expecting to see Brett or Chris, returned from wherever the hell they’d said they were going. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember. Something about a girl, maybe…?

  “Where did you—oh.” Instead of his friend or his brother, it was a pretty blonde that reminded him of what he’d been drinking to forget: the fact that he’d screwed up with Kassidy.

  She even had blue eyes like Kassidy.

  For some reason, this made him think of their impending addition. Would their child have her blond hair, or his almost brown? A good throwing arm, or an uncanny knack for numbers and foreign languages? Son of a bitch.

  He was having a kid.

  There it was again. That small flare of excitement.

  “Can I get a picture?” she asked, holding out her phone. Before he could say no, she snapped a pic of herself and him, then turned and kissed his cheek, quickly snapping another.

  He blinked, trying to clear his mind. “Hey—”

  “No pictures right now, please,” Chris, his youngest brother, interjected, gently pulling the blonde away and using his firm cop voice. “Next time, okay?”

  The blonde pouted. “Yeah. Sure.”

  She walked away, her fingers flying over her phone screen. More than likely, that photo of her kissing his cheek would be all over the internet before she reached her friends.

  He was too damned drunk to care.

  Chris sat beside him, shaking his head. “We leave you alone for one second…” His brother was every inch the protective cop right now, sitting on the stool with his back perfectly straight and his hand resting on his hip where his pistol usually was.

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Bathroom, like I said.” He scanned the room, more than likely checking for more threats, and then turned his attention back to Wyatt. “Want me to delete the picture from her phone? You’re pretty plastered, and she’s probably posting it right now.”

  “I don’t care,” he muttered, dragging his hands down his face. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Chris sighed. “Are you drunk enough to talk yet?”

  “Yeah, we’re kind of curious why you’re drinking yourself under the table,” Brett said, drily, from his left.

  Wyatt turned toward him clumsily. He was engaged to Wyatt’s baby sister, and they’d been friends most of their lives, but sometimes the guy was like a ninja. “When did you get back? I didn’t hear you.”

  “The same time as Chris,” he said slowly, cocking a brown brow.

  “Oh.” He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Shit. My head hurts.”

  “That’ll happen when you drink the whole bottle,” Chris said. When the bartender passed, he quietly asked, “Can he get some water, please?”

  The bartender nodded and walked away.

  Chris lifted a hand. “Cole’s here.”

  Wyatt squinted across the bar. Cole was in the military and was rarely home, since he was usually off fighting for their freedom. Figured he was here to witness this. “Shit.”

  Cole came over, took one look at Wyatt, and snorted. “You weren’t kidding. He looks like hell.”

  “That’s why I called you,” Chris muttered.

  “You called him?” Wyatt said, frowning. “Why? He’s got more important shit to worry about than me. He’s supposed to be on leave, chilling, not taking care of me.”

  Cole clapped him on the back, grinning, and settled in on the stool next to Chris. “There’s no other place I’d rather be than right here, with you guys. What’s up?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. We’re all here now. Time to start talking,” Brett said, checking the time. “Spill your drunk guts.”

  “You guys are happy, right?” Wyatt asked slowly.

  Chris raised his brows. “Happy?”

  “About what?” Brett asked.

  Clearly, they were confused.

  “With Anna and Nina.” He cleared his throat. “You’re happy.”

  “Ridiculously so,” Chris said, grinning. They’d been married for a little over a year or so, and as far as Wyatt could tell, they’d never fought in their lives.

  He turned to Brett. He knew for a fact he and Anna got into it a lot. They were both too stubborn to get along all the time. “And you?”

  “I love her with all my heart.”

  Wyatt swallowed.

  “But are you happier with her?”

  “Of course,” he said slowly, even more confused.

  He glanced at Cole. “And you’re happy single?”

  “Uh…” Cole hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. “I mean, yes. I guess so.”

  “Why are you asking us this?” Chris asked slowly, his eyes wide. “Holy. Shit. Did you…did you meet a girl?”

  He said that with as much shock as someone would say, Did you kill a monkey in your sleep? Like it was an impossible possibility. Wyatt didn’t blame him one bit. All his adult life, he’d been professing his desire to remain single. He’d sworn to never fall.

  And yet…

  Here he was.

  Fallen.

  “No. No way,” Brett said, laughing and shaking his head. “It’s gotta be something else. Anything else. Did you lose your foreign sponsor?”

  Cole lifted a brow. “You got a foreign deal?”

  The sponsor Kassidy had helped him get? Even thinking her name made his chest tighten and his muscles ache to go to her house, knock on her door, and apologize for leaving. “No. I mean, no, I didn’t lose the deal. And yes, I got one.”

  “Then…” Brett broke off, his jaw dropping. “Holy shit. It’s actually a girl, isn’t it?”

  Wyatt ducked his head, not answering.

  This was about so much more than just a girl.

  They’d made a person.

  A whole fucking person.

  “Yes.” Chris laughed, jumped off his stool, and clapped Wyatt on the back. “I was right? You owe me twenty bucks, Brett.”

  Wyatt lifted his head, scowling. “Are you kidding me? You bet against me? Your own brother?”

  “Yep,” Chris said without a hint of shame. He held his hand out to Brett, wriggling it. “Who is she?”

  Brett pulled a twenty out of his pocket and slammed the bill into Chris’s hand. “She better be fantastic, since you made me lose to Chris again.”

  “I can’t help it that I’m better at this shit than you are,” his brother said, lifting a shoulder. “What’s her name?”

  Cole said nothing, just crossed his arms and waited.

  Part of him wanted to lie and say there was no one and get Brett his money back. But the thing was…she wasn’t no one. She was the one. The only one who could rip him apart and put him back together again. Since he needed to talk about it, and her, and the person they’d made, he couldn’t think of anyone better to talk to than these three assholes at his side.

  Sighing, he ruffled his hair and said, “Her name’s Kassidy Thomas.”

  Brett cursed under his breath, probably still pissed off he’d lost the bet.

  Chris shook his head, still grinning as he shoved the twenty into his pocket. “Cheerleader?”

  “Model?” Cole interjected.

  “Playboy bunny?” Brett suggested, grinning.

  “No.” Chris pointed. “She’s probably an actress. A famous one.”

  “Florist shop accountant,” Wyatt said, glancing at Brett. “You sent her to my house to do a singing telegram, actually. So, you only have yourself to blame for losing that twenty.”

  “Shit,” Brett said, eyes wide. “So, this girl comes to your house, sings to you, and then you…what? Fell in love with her sweet voice?”

  Wyatt choked on a laugh. “No. She isn’t the best singer in the world—is quite possibly the worst, actually—and then she knoc
ked my Hamilton vase over. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she then yelled at me for winning the game the week before because she lost a bet. That bet was the reason she was singing at my house instead of her brother.”

  “Wait a second. You broke the vase Mom gave you?” Chris practically yelled.

  Wyatt nodded. “Yep.”

  Cole whistled through his teeth. “She’s gonna kill you…”

  Wyatt winced. “Don’t tell her.”

  “I won’t.” Cole shook his head.

  “But—” Chris started.

  “Focus,” Brett snapped. “Enough about the stupid vase. Tell us more about the girl. You met her. She was awful at singing. She broke your mom’s vase. And then…?”

  Wyatt frowned down at the whiskey he hadn’t drunk yet. “And then I asked her to go to dinner with my foreign sponsors with me because she spoke Chinese, and from that point on…I couldn’t think of anyone else besides her. We weren’t supposed to see each other again after that, but I went to her place again. And again. And again. I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stay away. She was on my mind constantly, like a disease.”

  Brett snorted. “I hope you didn’t tell her that.”

  “He did,” Chris said. “That’s why he’s here drinking, instead of with her.”

  Cole snorted. “You’re probably right.”

  “No, I’m drinking because I broke all my rules, fell for a girl—”

  Brett choked. “Jesus.”

  Cole rolled his eyes. “Dramatic, much?”

  Chris shook his head and took a sip of his beer.

  “And then today, she told me she’s pregnant.”

  Chris choked on his beer.

  Brett’s jaw hung open.

  Cole lurched to his feet, eyes wide.

  As Chris coughed, he slammed his beer down, covering his mouth and turning red in the face. Wyatt watched, slightly amused, but more annoyed than anything.

  He deserved it.

  Brett recovered first, dragging a hand down his face and saying, “Holy shit. Are you sure it’s yours?”

  “Yes,” Wyatt gritted out, thinking about his earlier question to Kassidy. He’d hurt her when he asked her if she was sure the child was his…which he totally hadn’t meant to do. He’d just been so shocked. “It’s mine. I have no doubt. I never did.”

  “Mom’s gonna freak the hell out,” Chris finally rasped, pounding his chest.

  Cole frowned. “Are you telling her? Or are you guys—?”

  “She wants to keep the baby,” Wyatt interrupted, seeing where Cole was going with his line of questioning. After all, he’d been in that exact same mind frame just a few hours earlier.

  “What do you want to do?” Brett asked slowly.

  “I have no clue. I didn’t plan on her, or this, or…” He shook his head. “I’m clueless what to do, or what to say, but I was an asshole earlier, and she kicked me out of her place.”

  “And then you came here?” Chris asked.

  “And then I came here,” Wyatt echoed.

  Brett shook his head, laughing slightly. “Shit, man.”

  “Do you love her?” Cole asked.

  Did he?

  What did love feel like? What did it mean? How would he recognize it?

  Shit, he had no clue.

  But he missed her, and he’d reacted horribly earlier and needed to fix it as soon as possible… Not tonight, though. He wasn’t drunk enough to think that knocking on her door and making drunken declarations to a pregnant woman would be a good idea. “I…have no idea.”

  “None?” Chris raised a brow.

  “Are you sure?” Cole added.

  Wyatt frowned.

  “You said you think about her all the time?” Brett said.

  “Yes.”

  “And you broke all your rules for her,” Chris added, ruffling his brown hair with his left hand. His wedding band caught the light, reflecting it. Wyatt couldn’t take his attention off that band.

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “Have you ever thought about leaving her? Never seeing her again?” Cole asked.

  “Yes, lots,” Wyatt admitted. “Especially in the beginning.”

  “But you didn’t,” Chris said.

  “No. Clearly not.”

  “Why not?” Brett shot in.

  “Because I didn’t want to,” Wyatt said, his tone dry. “Again, clearly.”

  “If she weren’t pregnant, and you weren’t panicking, would you be with her right now?” Cole asked, picking up his beer. Wyatt hadn’t even seen him order one.

  “Well, yeah, I guess. I was supposed to go to dinner with some guys from the team, but afterward—”

  “Do you always want to be with her? Awake? Asleep?” Chris asked.

  Wyatt hesitated.

  “Would you give up anything for her? Do anything for her?” Brett added.

  Again, he hesitated.

  “If you can answer yes to any of these questions, you probably love her, dumbass.” Chris shrugged. “Even if some of them are no, you might still love her.”

  Wyatt made a choking sound. “I don’t…I just…I don’t know.”

  “If you lost her, would you be okay?” Cole asked quietly. Considering his brother had been single for as long as Wyatt had, the oddly accurate question was out of character for him.

  Wyatt swallowed.

  Had he already lost her?

  Was she done with him? Were they over? If so…would he be okay?

  Never holding her in his arms again, and possibly seeing her in the grocery store with a man who would give her everything she deserved without panicking and running when she needed him most, made him ill. He wasn’t okay with that.

  And when he threw his baby into that image of her and another man in the grocery store, sitting in that little seat in the cart that he’d always found pointless and annoying…No. Hell no.

  He didn’t want to lose her.

  He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t want to lose her, but I might have done so already. When she told me… Well, saying that I didn’t react well would pretty much be the biggest understatement of the century. I might have ruined everything today.”

  “Lots of people don’t react well to surprising news,” Brett said, standing. “It’s how you act, not react, that matters. Actions speak louder than words, even when you’re speaking to yourself.”

  He was right. They did. And his actions had, and always had, been screaming that he didn’t want to let her go. Sure, he hadn’t been planning on this, but neither had she. She was probably in as much shock as he was, but she’d handled it a hell of a lot better than he had. She’d handled the shock of pregnancy with grace and a strength he didn’t possess, and probably never would.

  She’d make an excellent mother.

  And an even more excellent partner.

  “Wow, that was deep, man,” Cole said, lifting his beer to Brett.

  Brett inclined his head and clinked his beer to Cole’s. “Thanks.”

  Wyatt stood up, his heart pounding. “I’m not sure if I love her, or if I’d give up everything for her, but I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want this to be the end. And I want to be in my kid’s life.”

  “Well, then…” Chris tossed money on the bar and stood. “What the hell are you going to do about it?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It had been two days since she kicked Wyatt out of her house, and she hadn’t seen him since. He’d tried. Oh, he’d tried. He’d been calling, texting, stopping by, knocking. You name it, he’d done it, but she needed time and space to clear her head. His reaction to her news hadn’t been…good. He had all but told her she meant nothing to him, and that all they’d been doing was messing around. Call her crazy, but they were supposed to be more than that.

  She’d given herself to him. Opened her heart after he told her she was more than a fling and that he wanted to give them a real chance at something. She’d let herself fall for him like a fool, and the second things had gotten rough, he’d b
ailed.

  How could she trust him now?

  If he came back around, begging for another chance, deep down she would always suspect he only came back because of the baby, and not because he wanted her.

  She would never believe he wanted to be with her. Never believe he cared. Nothing would change that. He’d made his feelings for her, or lack thereof, very clear.

  It was over. It was all over.

  Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it, her stomach rolling. She pressed a hand to it, frowning at his name on the screen as she silently prayed not to throw up again. She flipped the phone over, not answering, and turned back to the reports on her computer screen. They wouldn’t fill themselves out, and she wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with Wyatt.

  He would just have to wait until she was ready.

  And that was that.

  When she’d seen the photos of him surface from the night they’d “broken up,” she couldn’t believe that he’d gone from her place to a bar with a bunch of women. She shouldn’t have been—he never made a secret about his affinities—but he’d picked up chicks on the same day he found out she was pregnant with his child…so screw him.

  The pain he’d given to her had helped her, in the end.

  It had shown her it was time to move on…

  Without him.

  A knock sounded on her door, and she lifted her head. “Who is it?”

  “Me,” a muffled voice called back.

  “Come in.”

  Her brother walked in. He wore a plaid shirt, a pair of khakis, and a baseball hat with the Saviors logo on it. He glanced around the room, seemingly to search for something, but his gaze landed on her without any hint of having found it. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  He shut the door behind him, crossed his arms, and leaned back against it. He opened his mouth but didn’t speak. After a moment, he sighed and pushed off the door, pacing in front of her. “I’m not sure how to say this. I just…you…well…”

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Sorry,” he said, running his hand over the picture of the flower shop when it first opened years ago. “Mom and Dad have been together a long time. Happy. Married.”