Touchdowns and Tiaras: The Complete Boxed Set

by Frost, Sosie

  I made it to the garbage and spat most of my breakfast into the can.

  The team watched in abject horror, but the offensive line was the first to give a riotous cheer. Just the introduction to the team I wanted.

  “Jesus, Doc. Are you okay?” Jude pulled me into his arms. It was the second time I couldn’t breathe.

  I might have melted into him…had I not dissolved into panic instead.

  “Did I do it right?” Jude’s voice echoed over the cafeteria. “Please tell me I didn’t Heimlich out the baby!”

  4

  Jude

  I’d fucked up.

  I didn’t even have a concussion to blame it on—just the sheer panic of squeezing a pregnant woman around the middle so hard it’d dislodge an apple stuck in her throat.

  But it wasn’t the fruit that was forbidden this time—it was the truth.

  “Holy shit.” Jack helped Rory into a chair. “Are you pregnant?”

  If the cafeteria hadn’t silenced before, now the team’s testicles zipped into their bellies. Nothing like a rogue mother-to-be to make half the guys question their life choices and count the days since their last hook-up.

  The trainers rushed into the cafeteria, but the commotion summoned even more of an audience. Rory waved away any medical help, but she stared as Coach Thompson rushed through the doorway.

  And he’d brought another doctor.

  I’d already forgotten his name, but I remembered his position. He was the head of the fellowship program

  Rory’s boss.

  Fuck me.

  “I’m fine.” Rory stood, more embarrassed than harmed. “Thank you all for…watching.”

  The red-headed trainer—Louisa?—offered her a bottle of water. “Maybe you should sit down?”

  Rory’s hand fell to her tummy. Did she realize she rubbed little Genie again? At least it seemed to relieve her.

  And me.

  Louisa took her pulse. “That was a lot of stress.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “But the baby—”

  Rory gritted her teeth. “Is fine. I promise. I should be getting back to work.”

  No one moved. Coach Thompson guided his guest into the cafeteria and grinned at Rory.

  “Well, that was quite a scare you gave us, Doctor Merriweather!”

  “Sorry, Coach Thompson…Clayton. I don’t even like apples.” She smiled, but her voice cooled as she greeted her boss. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

  That scene should have wrapped up by now. I nodded to Lachlan and Jack. They took the hint and gestured for everyone to return to their lunch. A wave of disappointment crashed over the team—partly because their entertainment was over, but mostly because the horny bastards realized they couldn’t score with a pregnant woman.

  Coach Thompson frowned, though he tip-toed around the conversation. “So, Doctor Merriweather, will this…condition interfere with your work?”

  Rory didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not. The pregnancy has nothing to do with the fellowship. Right, Doctor Frolla?”

  Coach Thompson tilted his head. Disappointed?

  Lecherous old man.

  “I didn’t know you were married,” he said.

  Not a time for old-school values, but Rory didn’t react. “Not that it’s important, but I am not married. Yes, I’m pregnant, but this will not impact my job in any way.”

  Clayton apparently disagreed, but the bastard had the decency to stay cordial. Like he had any idea how much stress she was under.

  “I hope you’re right, Doctor Merriweather,” Clayton said. “These are the sorts of complications which should have been discussed during our interview.”

  “I didn’t feel that it was relevant.”

  “I trusted you with this responsibility. This fellowship is a highly competitive opportunity. I denied many qualified applicants to give you this chance.”

  “And you made the right decision. You won’t even know I’m pregnant. I can handle the fellowship.”

  “Alone?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  Clayton scowled. “Every doctor participating in this fellowship is my concern, especially when one foolish decision might impact everyone’s reputation.”

  That son of a bitch. No one spoke to Rory that way.

  And no one was going to take this opportunity away from her. Not when she’d finally made it, earned her rightful degree, and found a respectable job in a career she’d prepared for all her life.

  If Clayton was this much of an asshole now, I could only imagine how insufferable he’d become when she started to show, if she had any complications, or if she needed help. He’d fire her, and he’d replace her with another doctor.

  Someone who wasn’t as sympathetic to my injuries.

  Someone who wasn’t naïve enough to believe me when I said I was healthy.

  Screw it. I couldn’t let him ruin both of our lives.

  I stepped forward and took Rory’s hand.

  “You don’t need to worry about Doctor Merriweather,” I said. “I’m taking care of her.”

  Training camp had officially been open for a week, but this would be the gossip of the summer. Rory stared at me, wide-eyed, as the team quieted for the newest revelation of the hour.

  She’d thank me for this.

  One day.

  If she ever spoke to me again.

  “Jude?” Rory’s grip tightened. My fingers ached, but at least I could tape them up for the afternoon drills. “What are you doing?”

  “I think it’s time to let the cat out of the bag,” I said.

  Rory disagreed. “I think the cat is perfectly content to stay stuffed in the bag.”

  Lachlan laughed. “And I think someone’s already stuffing that pussy, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

  Jack frowned. “Everyone knows what you’re saying.”

  I didn’t expect a pregnant woman to launch at me, but I braced myself in case Doctor Merriweather transformed into Mr. Hyde.

  “It’s time to tell everyone the truth,” I said. “No sense hiding it.”

  Her hackles raised, disguised by a smile. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Come on, Rory—sweetheart. They’ll find out eventually.”

  “Not if you keep your big mouth shut.”

  She wasn’t making this easy, but I wasn’t letting her throw her reputation away. I tugged her close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The team shifted, and Rory’s boss arched an eyebrow.

  “You don’t have to be shy,” I said.

  Rory faked a laugh. “And you don’t have to be so forward.”

  “Would you prefer I shout it from the mountaintops?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

  I faced the team. “Look, we’ve been keeping this a secret.”

  Rory edged close just so she could stomp on my foot. “So secret it’s like it doesn’t even exist.”

  “Rory and I have been dating for six months,” I said. “We wanted to keep it quiet, but there’s no harm in sharing the good news. We’re expecting.”

  There. That wasn’t so hard. Just…potentially suicidal. Sharing her pregnancy with the entire Rivets’ organization meant she couldn’t be pissed at me for telling Eric. This was definitely worse. Figured. I’d finally signed with the Rivets, but I’d be a dead man before I got my team photo.

  But at least her job was safe. I’d played in the league with enough assholes, bastards, and slime. I recognized trouble when I saw it. Clayton Frolla was trouble. I might have been old-fashioned, but Rory was a friend, a lady, and a woman in distress. She needed to be protected.

  And I was the one to do it.

  The team might have offered their compliments with thudded slaps to my back and handshakes, but Rory faced Clayton with a clenched jaw.

  “Congratulations, Doctor Merriweather…” His eyebrow rose. “Odd that you never disclosed your relationship with this player.”

  Rory stiffened. “I didn�
�t want to cause a conflict of interest regarding his case.”

  “I see.”

  “But if you want to check his charts and test results—”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” Clayton said. “I’ve had no reason to doubt your assessments. If anything, I’d have cleared your boyfriend to play sooner. No sense offering the father of your child any preferential treatment.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Rory’s hand tightened in mine, grinding bone. Her smile turned sweet, and she gazed at me with that rabid glimmer that would probably hurt. “Could I have a word with you in private, honey?”

  Honey.

  Not a traditional battle cry, but it was the word that would inevitably herald the bloodshed. I guided Rory to the relative privacy outside. No sense letting her pin me down somewhere dark and secluded where I’d be punished for my misguided chivalry.

  Most women held men’s balls in their hand—this one threatened his brains.

  I led her to the tunnels, heading towards the practice fields. The Rivets’ training camp had become part fan-destination, part-festival. One of Leah Carson’s ideas to rebuild morale and improve the team’s shaken image with the fans. Food vendors, games, merchandise, and open practices funneled hundreds of people to the camp for the day. Plenty of witnesses.

  Rory practically hyperventilated. “What. Are. You. Thinking?”

  At least she could breathe without the apple in her throat. Saving her life had to guarantee her forgiveness.

  “I had to think fast,” I said.

  “Think fast?”

  The hands came up. I tensed, but she simply wove her frustrated fingers through her ponytail.

  “Are you thinking at all?” She hissed, “Do you know what you just did?”

  “I saved your career, Doc.”

  “And you ruined your life!”

  My life was football. As long as I stayed on the field, it had meaning. Only one woman could guarantee my position, and I’d just rescued her from a pink slip.

  “It all worked out,” I said.

  “You said we were in a relationship!”

  “Yes.”

  “You said you were the father of my baby!”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t understand how bad of a situation this is.”

  “And you’re not seeing how great of an opportunity can be.” I took her hand before she stormed away. “Rory, I did what I thought was right. You needed help. I’m helping.”

  Rory’s lip trembled. “You had no right to do this.”

  “I wasn’t going to let you get into trouble.”

  “I’m already in trouble, Jude. Now we’re both stuck in it.” Now she did flail, her hands striking my arms. “I liked it better when only Eric knew!”

  “That was an accident. I forgot he didn’t know.”

  When would I learn to keep my damn mouth shut?

  “You forgot? Why were you even talking about my uterus with my step-brother?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Rory paced, covering her eyes. “This is a mess. Now my family has to know. The team knows. The fellowship knows. Want to hire a skywriter too? Make it breaking news on Sports Nation? Rory Merriweather—Super-Star’s Super-Slut!”

  “That’s why this will protect you. If we’re part of a long-term relationship, people will expect a baby, they won’t judge you for it.” I hesitated. Rory wasn’t angry. She was scared. And that was unacceptable. “No one is going to harass you about this, Doc. I won’t let them.”

  Rory looked away. “But what about you? You’re…stuck with me now.”

  “A man could find himself in a worse situation.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “We’ve always been friends, Rory. You’re good company. Fun to be around. You understand me and my…” I glanced over the field. “Obsession with the game. We can make this work.”

  She didn’t buy it. “Sure, we get along fine. But you realize this has to look like a real relationship? That means you can’t get involved with anyone else now. No other women until this is over.”

  “Do you remember what I wished for at dinner last week?”

  Rory shrugged. “You wanted to play football.”

  “Exactly. I didn’t ask Genie for a big-busted blonde to pop out of the shadows.”

  “Blondes aren’t your type.”

  “You know me too well.” I smiled. “I don’t do romance, Rory. I don’t let myself get distracted from the game. Though now…” I couldn’t resist and squeezed her hand. “I want to take care of you too.”

  She stared at me, eyes wide, still flustered and panicked from the close-call with her apple. Her lips parted, puffy with indignation, but still temptingly sweet.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

  “I’d trade the romance of a lifetime to help you, Rory. Hell…” I laughed. “I’ll be damn lucky if anyone even believes us.”

  She panicked. “Why?”

  “Because you’re so damn beautiful. People will think you’re doing me the favor.”

  I liked to make her laugh, though she squirmed with quick and adorable embarrassment.

  “You’re very sweet,” she said. “And I know you don’t do romance, but…”

  “But?”

  “What about sex?”

  “Well…if you’re offering.” I grinned. “Eric’s already pissed off. I guess now’s our chance.”

  She smacked my arm. “Be serious, Jude. Romance is one thing, but even you probably…”

  “Even I probably…what?”

  Rory sighed. “Even I hooked up with someone. You’re definitely going to want…a little action on the sidelines. You might be my knight in shining armor, but I’m gonna be the rusty, awkward chastity belt strapped around your noble steed for six months.”

  It was the first time since I suggested this scheme that I regretted the consequences. Not that I wanted to sleep with other women, but because I had the perfect woman standing before me.

  Beautiful. Intelligent. Kind.

  Unbelievably sexy.

  Completely vulnerable.

  Off-limits.

  Forbidden.

  I stepped too close to her, lowering my voice just for her to hear.

  Maybe I didn’t want to be overheard. Maybe I didn’t want to break her gaze.

  Or maybe I just wanted near her because she smelled like roses and honey.

  “I’ve got my eye on the championship, Doc. Can’t let myself get distracted with anything else. Even…” I licked my lips. “Sex.”

  “But you’re such a…not that I’ve been paying any attention to the rumors.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “But people do talk. Chronic bachelor. Non-committal. Different woman on your arm anytime you’re seen.”

  “I’m no player.”

  “No, but you’re not...”

  “What?”

  Rory shrugged. “Celibate.”

  Were we really talking about this? I never once imagined Rory as anything but the innocent girl from back home. Now, here she was, worried about my desires. She wasn’t the first woman to obsess over my pleasure—just the most dangerous.

  I ran my tongue along my teeth, looking for that sharp pinch to drag me away from her sweet voice.

  “You aren’t a little virgin either,” I said.

  “No,” she laughed. “I’m a walking consequence.”

  And the real father was a fool for walking away. Well, I wasn’t the type to run. Not from a hard choice. Not from a commitment. And not from a friend.

  Rory bit her lip. “You know people will assume we’re together…together.”

  I glanced to her yet-flat tummy and savored every curve on the way down. “Hopefully, they’ll be jealous.”

  “I don’t want you to be miserable.”

  “That’s impossible with you.”

  “Because we’ll be together. A lot.”

  “That’s not such a bad thing.”

 
; Her eyes flashed, curious and bright. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  More than ever, even if I did it for the wrong reasons. “You should move in with me.”

  “Move in?”

  “I suppose you’re gonna fight me on this too?”

  “You’re damned right. I can’t impose on you like that.”

  I expected it. Fortunately, I knew Rory. Practical, sensible Rory.

  “You should move in with me until the baby is born,” I said. “Hell, until you’re confident that you can handle being on your own.”

  “It’s one thing to steal my own drawer and plug my hair dryer into your bathroom outlet,” Rory said. “It’s another thing to plop a newborn into your living room.”

  “And I suppose a single-mother-to-be wouldn’t want to save money on six or seven months’ rent?”

  “…Rent free?”

  What sort of monster did she think I was? “Of course rent free. I’ll take care of everything—housing, groceries, utilities. All you need to do is move in and help me sell this relationship as something real. Plus…” I let the implication linger. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a live-in doctor to observe my general health, just to reassure her that I do belong on the field.”

  Rory nodded. “You help me, and I help you?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “This is a bad plan.”

  “On the contrary.” I extended my hand. She shook on it. “I think I’m just what the doctor ordered.”

  5

  Rory

  Too bad a fake relationship didn’t come with imaginary luggage.

  I dropped my purse in Jude’s entryway.

  There. My handbag was moved. If only my furniture, books, clothes, and life could fit into the side pocket with the gum and iPhone.

  Fortunately, Jude had hired movers to help me make the transition. Not that I was bringing much with me. His penthouse had been pre-furnished—more suited for a king than a running back. Who knew apartments came in two stories. I’d have credited his taste, but I remembered Jude’s room from when we were kids. He was lucky he could find matching socks, let alone pick crown molding and decorate with cool, winter colors.