The Wedding Deal (Heart in the Game)

by Cindi Madsen

  “Girl does love her paperwork and contracts,” Bryant said with a laugh. The humor faded from his features, and he widened his stance, planting his hands on his hips in a classic coaching position that made Lance feel like he was about to get told which play to make. At this point, he’d consider anything he thought might actually work. “She’s also pretty tight-lipped about it, but even the new guys can tell that there’s some unresolved shit between you two.”

  “That’s rich, you calling them the new guys.”

  “Hey, I was here for a good three days before our GM arrived, and a whole week before the rest. I’m old hat compared to these babies.”

  Lance managed a smile, one he hoped said very clever, but Charlotte’s off-limits at the same time.

  “Me, I’m a never-say-die kind of guy. If your usual play isn’t working, it’s time to change it up. Go bigger. I’ve always been a fan of the flea flicker. Or there’s the hitch and go.” Bryant raised an eyebrow. “Fake spike? I’m kind of hoping that’s what you’re doing. Pretending to give up, but then you pop up and throw that amazing Hail Mary pass and clinch the girl.”

  Was this guy for real?

  “Big risks, big rewards,” Bryant said with a shrug.

  “Funny enough, that’s why she encouraged me to hire you.”

  “Yeah, a woman like that doesn’t come along every day.”

  Why did everyone insist on telling him what he already knew? But they also kept forgetting to factor in that she wouldn’t so much as look at him. Wouldn’t allow him to say anything that didn’t fall in the “business only” category.

  The flat screen television up front announced the draft had started right as their clock ticked down to zero. Around the world, millions of football fans from every team were watching, the Mustang fans in the mix hoping and pleading that this would be the season their team turned it around.

  All their hopes and dreams for the team, along with the players’ and every single other person in this room.

  No pressure.

  The clock had been reset to count down the ten minutes they had to select their pick, and it was go time.

  Lance nodded to Brett Williams, their brand-new GM, who picked up the phone and called in. They sent in the ticket for Darius Fox, the linebacker he and Charlotte had decided on the day she’d put up her wall of craziness. Luckily, the rest of the team was on board, and part of that was because Lance had asked Charlotte to stand up in their meeting the other day and help explain why they wanted him as their first pick.

  A few of the guys raised questions, but she’d done her stats wizardry thing, drawing across the white board at the front of the war room like she’d done to the one in the hotel. She added the stats about rookie quarterbacks and pointed out the percentages of division champions and Super Bowl champions who’d won mostly because of their defense.

  It’d been a long time since he’d seen a roomful of guys stunned silent.

  Pride had radiated through Lance then, and he experienced a surge of it now. He glanced back at Charlotte again, wanting to celebrate together. Needing it, really.

  Her gaze remained on her computer.

  She hadn’t even gotten out of her seat to celebrate. The woman who’d spun around on the beach and squealed or high-fived after every phone call. She’d been willing to give up a quarterback most people were clamoring over each other for so that they’d land Fox.

  And nothing.

  Which was how he felt, too, come to think of it. They’d restructured this team together, and in spite of being well on his way to getting everything he wanted, instead of happiness, he felt…empty. Hollow.

  That hole that’d been punched through his chest remained, and there was only one thing that’d fill it.

  And she refused to even look at him.

  Everything inside of him was unraveling, coming undone at a rapid pace, and it sent the phone call he’d been trying to keep out of his head rushing to the foreground again.

  Yesterday afternoon Mitch had called and asked about Charlotte—funny enough, Lance had only answered because he figured he’d be the one member of his family who wouldn’t ask about her.

  When he told Mitch they weren’t together anymore, his brother asked what the hell was wrong with him that he’d let a girl like that go.

  “It was one week,” Lance had said. “One amazing week, but still.” He’d held back that it was the best week of his life. That he relived the amazing moments in his sleep and woke up to the harsh reality it’d ended and everything was different now.

  “What does time have to do with anything?” Mitch had asked. “I knew Stacy was the girl for me on our first date.”

  “You were together for two years before you got engaged, and it was another year before you got married.”

  “Because planning a wedding in the limited off time both of us have wasn’t easy, not because we didn’t want to get married. Plus, I was trying not to scare her off by proposing too soon. But trust me, I wanted to put a ring on it within a week.”

  Lance hadn’t known what to say to that, but it turned out Mitch hadn’t been finished anyway. “Have you ever asked Dad when he knew Mom was the one?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “Well, after I announced to the family that Stacy and I were engaged, Dad got all nostalgic. He told me that he was pretty sure Mom was the one when he asked her out and she told him she didn’t date football players. By their second date, Dad went from pretty sure to sure, and within a month, he’d asked her to marry him.”

  Lance had heard the story about them only dating a month before getting engaged, but he’d always thought it was more the way it was back when his parents were dating, or that they’d simply been fortunate it’d worked out so well.

  “Sometimes you just know,” Mitch said.

  It hit Lance hard, the words ringing over and over in his head. It wasn’t just fortune or luck, and time didn’t have anything to do with it. He knew he’d never find anyone like Charlotte and that he’d screwed up and that he wanted her back. Part of him had known that since he’d woken up that morning after their blowout, before he’d even found out Gavin’s mom had leaked the story to the press.

  “Okay, the other team snatched up a quarterback within five minutes, and they’re just about to announce who’s on the Giants’ ticket,” Williams said. “Then we’ll be up again.”

  Right. The next draft pick. That was where his head was supposed to be. He was still debating between two players, not sure if he wanted a running back or wide receiver more. The coach and GM were split.

  He found he didn’t care, not even a little. Because sometimes you just know.

  “Charlotte,” he said.

  No response.

  Screw his pride. It was time to go big. He said her name louder, loud enough that everyone in the war room looked at him, too.

  “You need stats?” she asked, her eyes going to the board instead of him.

  “I need you,” he said, and the whole room went deadly quiet.

  “We’re on,” Williams shouted. “Who’s it going to be? The running back from Penn State or the wide receiver from Bama?”

  Lance cleared his throat. “I’ve made a decision. I’m not picking until Charlotte hears me out.”

  Her head snapped up, her green eyes finally focusing on him. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Why stop now? I was stupid for assuming I could take you to my brother’s wedding without anything changing between us. Even stupider to fall so hard for you in such a short amount of time.” He took a step up the aisle, his gaze locking on to hers. “But the stupidest thing I did by far was to let you go. To not fight harder for you. So I’m abandoning my pride and throwing myself at your mercy. I’ll drop to my knees if that’s what it takes. This is the war room, and I’m ready to go to war for what I want—and that’s you.”

  He took another step up, slowly moving toward her, his heart pounding so hard he felt it in every inch of his body. “Actual
ly, it’s more than want. Like I said, I need you.”

  Around them, people began squirming in their seats, frantically glancing at the ticking clock up front.

  “Brett,” Charlotte said. “Call it in.”

  Lance spun and pointed a finger. “Call and you’re fired. I lose my mind and make brash decisions like that all the time—ask Charlotte.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” she said, that fire inside of her finally igniting as she shot to her feet.

  “You’re one to talk. You won’t even hear me out. Won’t even let yourself be alone in a room with me.”

  “We already went through this. It didn’t work. We never should’ve broken the rules in the first place.” Exasperation roiled off her, reminding him of their first few meetings in his office, only this was magnified by everything they’d been through together since then. “And you doing this right here in front of everybody breaks so many sections of the handbook I don’t even know which one to start with.”

  Lance raised his voice and addressed the room. “Apparently we’re not supposed to make you guys uncomfortable by discussing our relationship in front of you. PDA is also out, but I’d give up my first draft pick next year if that was even an option.”

  A collective gasp went through the room, and in any other situation, it might strike him as comical.

  “Is anyone uncomfortable?” he asked.

  Blank stares and gaping mouths followed, all except for Coach Bryant, who made a rolling motion with his finger, encouraging him to keep on with this crazy-ass play he’d made. He’d launched the ball, now it was up to her to catch it.

  Just like with a long-shot pass like that, panic hung heavy in the air—but he could tell that was more due to the clock hitting the halfway point than the fear of PDA.

  “Talk or kiss or do whatever the hell you need to do,” Williams said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just hurry up about it so we can make the call.”

  Lance turned back to Charlotte. “See. They’re fine with it. Now, where was I?”

  “I think you were in the middle of proving that you’re a pompous asshole who doesn’t think the rules apply to you.”

  “I won’t even bother denying that. Charlotte, I fu—screwed up,” he said, deciding he’d at least try to follow some of the rules in case it’d help his predicament. “I was falling so fast and hard, and I told myself it was too good to be true. I let my doubts overtake my common sense. I’ve been burned by people I thought I could trust before, and I let my past get in the way of my future.”

  He climbed up those last few steps, until they were on the same tier. “To be clear, you’re the future I want. We’ve worked so hard building this team together, and the last couple of weeks have shown me that it means nothing if I don’t get to share it with you. Losing my football career sucked, but I knew I could move on. Losing you… I can’t do it.” Adrenaline pumped hard and fast, the kind of spike that preceded a devastating crash or a moment of everlasting glory. “I know we have a lot to talk about, and I’m not even asking you to forgive me right here and now. I just need you to say you’ll consider it—”

  “The clock’s at four minutes,” Charlotte said, gesturing toward the red numbers. “I know you’re not really going to let us run out of time. You and I can discuss this stuff later.”

  “Nope. You and I are the most important thing to me, even today. And if it takes missing a pick to prove that to you, I swear to God I’ll let that clock hit zero. There’s always next year— That’s a football fan’s motto, right?”

  “We’re more than fans,” Charlotte said, a hysterical edge to her voice. “This is our team and our livelihoods, and we can’t afford to let another shitty year pass us by.”

  He shrugged, as if he was powerless to do anything about it. “It’s in your hands now.”

  “Three minutes!” someone yelled, and everyone began muttering to please just hear him out.

  “This is against every single rule!” Charlotte pressed her fingers to her forehead. “It definitely breaks the terms of the agreement we signed.”

  In the background, a sports reporter said, “Still waiting for the Mustangs to call in…”

  “Lance, you have to let him make the call,” Charlotte said.

  “I will if you agree to at least have dinner with me.” He tried to keep his voice steady even as everything in him began deflating. This was supposed to work—it had to work. “Just give me another chance to prove I’m the guy for you.”

  “Come on, Charlie,” Coach Bryant said. “We all can see how miserable you both are without each other.”

  “We talk about it in the break room,” the offensive coordinator added.

  “Also against the rules,” Charlotte said.

  “Love doesn’t give a shit about the rules.” Lance closed the last few feet of space that remained between them, stopping right in front of her. It hit him hard, how in love he was with this stubborn, amazing, beautiful woman. “That’s why I can’t let this go—why I’m willing to risk so much on a second chance. I’m in love with you, Charlotte James. I think I fell a little bit in love with you that day you stormed into my office and rattled off the list of offenses against me, and every day we spent together I fell that much harder. It’s killing me to see you across the office and not be able to tell you how much I care. Or how much I want to kiss you.

  “Agree to have dinner with me. I can finish apologizing then.” With every second that ground out in the air the wound in his chest gaped wider, and he forced out one last word, putting every ounce of the rawness he felt into it. “Please.”

  “O-okay.” Her voice was shaky, and he wasn’t sure if it was from affection or anger, but all he cared was that he’d finally gotten some emotion. He’d work on making it the right one later.

  “Tonight? I can’t wait another night.”

  “Yes! Just make the damn call!”

  “One more thing,” Lance said, and the entire room groaned. “Nitrofanov, the running back from Penn State, or Morris, the wide receiver from Bama?” She rattled off stats for both guys, the words running into each other as if she were auctioning off their skills.

  “I need an answer.”

  “My gut says Nitrofanov, even if his stats aren’t quite as strong. He has more heart.”

  “Make the call,” he said, glancing at Williams, who frantically dialed and shouted their pick across the line with twelve seconds to spare.

  Charlotte dragged a hand through her hair and left her hand resting on the top of her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “Crazy about you,” he said, not caring that it was cheesy. He reached out and took her hand, relief flooding his veins when she curled her fingers around his instead of pushing him away.

  Did he dare hope? He gave her hand a slight tug, bringing her body close enough to bump against his.

  She braced one hand against his chest and slowly tipped her face to his. “Do you really love me? Or were you just saying that so I’d cave?”

  He cupped her cheek, savoring the feel of her soft skin and inhaling her intoxicating scent. “I meant every word, I swear. I tried to tell myself it was too soon, but it doesn’t change anything.” He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m in love with you.”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she let out a long exhale before her eyes reopened and focused on his. “I’m kinda in love with you, too.”

  “Kinda?”

  She laughed. “All right. 100 percent. I did my best to cling to my denial, but it was no use.”

  “Does this mean you forgive me for being the biggest idiot in Texas, where everything’s already huge?”

  “If I say yes, does that mean I forgo groveling over dinner?” She said it lightly, her words a balm to that gaping hole in his chest.

  “I’m sure I’ll screw up enough that most of our dinners will include groveling.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up, and a smile slowly spread across her face— Man, he’d missed t
hat smile.

  “Kiss already!” someone yelled—he was pretty sure it was Bryant—and her smile widened, a flush of pink creeping across her cheeks.

  Lance raised his eyebrows, silently asking if she was okay with fudging the rules a bit.

  “Admittedly,” she said, “my brain is shouting the same thing about you kissing me already.”

  He crashed his lips over hers, not wanting to waste another second not-kissing her. Whoops and hollers filled the room, the cheers even louder than after they’d secured their new rookies.

  He lifted her off her feet, wrapping her tighter in his arms and kissing her deeper.

  “Now go make use of one of the empty offices so we don’t have a repeat of this during the second and third rounds,” Williams said. “If you hurry, you’ll be back to get the updates on who everyone else has scooped up.”

  Charlotte scowled at their GM, and Lance could see the protest about his being inappropriate on the tip of her tongue. He also could tell by her sigh that she’d decided to let it go. If anything called for a celebratory night of rule breaking, it was this.

  “Actually,” Lance said, lowering her to her feet but using his arm to keep her tucked next to him. “We’ve got the rest of our options mapped out pretty well, along with backup options, so you can text me updates, and I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow morning so we can do it all again.”

  He looked down at Charlotte, unable to resist giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to get out of here?”

  …

  This day hadn’t gone at all the way Charlotte thought it would. Well, being in the same room as Lance had been as tortuous as expected, but for him to lay everything on the line like that? With the entire staff watching?

  And he loved her…

  Which led her to say something she’d never expected to say in the middle of the draft madness. “Beyond ready.”

  Hand in hand, they left the war room. They made out in the elevator. They kissed their way out of the lobby and over to his car.

  He tucked her inside, rounded the hood, and settled behind the wheel. “Name the restaurant.”

  “Actually, I was thinking we could order in. We already made enough people uncomfortable with our PDA, and considering what I want to do to you, it’d be best if we didn’t have an audience.”