The About Face Groom: Sweet Christian Football (Last Play Christmas Romances Book 5) Read online

  The About Face Groom

  Last Play Christmas Romances

  Karly Stratford

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  The Betting Groom: Last Play Christmas Romances

  The Risky Groom: Last Play Christmas Romances

  The Haunted Groom by Karly Stratford

  The Midnight Groom by Taylor Hart

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 by Karly Stratford. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. First eBook Edition: 2018 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Leon Reyes stared at the angry Tweet.

  Rumor has it that you and your football buddies assaulted @Grimmreporter #notcool #freedomofthepress #respect

  Leon snorted. This was the fourth guy this afternoon to attack him over what had happened the night before. It was probably a good thing that the Storm’s attorney had given Leon explicit instructions for how to respond to all these allegations.

  The incident you’re referring to was resolved without any charges being filed

  “Which is a good thing, because property damage—like destroying people’s cell phones—is a crime,” Leon said aloud.

  Before he’d finished muttering to himself, three of his followers had replied to the Tweet.

  @Grimmreporter is a hack #worstreporterever

  If it had been a fight @Grimmreporter would be in the hospital #orworse

  We all know @Grimmreporter only uses his job to get women #anditdoesntwork

  Leon smirked. Those were his followers: cutthroat and loyal. Both to a fault.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Leon?”

  Leon glanced up at the clock. How had it gotten so late? He typed one last reply into Twitter and stood.

  “Leon, are you awake?”

  Leon pulled a t-shirt on and opened the door to find his mom and dad standing in the hallway. His mom, a short woman with shoulder-length straight black hair, wore a little black dress. His dad, a tall man with dark brown eyes and wide shoulders, filled his tux like a model.

  Leon faked a huge yawn. “Barely.”

  That drew a disapproving frown from his mother, but she let it drop. “Come look in the kitchen. Do you think you have enough snacks?”

  “Did you buy out Costco again?”

  His mom waggled a finger at him. “You should be grateful. Most other professional football players probably don’t have parents who buy them snacks.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Leon muttered as he followed his mother down the hall.

  “Now there are chips, guacamole, salsa, a fruit salad...”

  “Ma, we’re just going to be gaming.”

  “Pizza pockets, juice, milk, and beer in the fridge. But no beer if the other boys are driving.”

  “Whatever you say, Ma,” Leon said, trying to conceal his smirk.

  His dad laughed. “Maria, we need to go. Leon, have fun with your friends. Please don’t burn the house down.”

  “That only almost happened once.”

  Leon waved his parents out the door. Then he checked the clock; just after five. He’d slept most of the afternoon away. No surprise, considering he’d been up until all hours of the night with the other guys. In jail.

  He was grateful that the team attorney had come to get them out instead of having to call his parents—an actual possibility, since he played in the town he grew up in. Twenty-four or not, his mother would have thrown a fit. In fact, she probably would have left him there overnight just to teach him a lesson.

  And he’d only grabbed a guy. A guy who had taken Evan’s phone. What kind of an idiot took on a linebacker? He’d probably saved Grimm’s pretty face.

  Leon rummaged in the fridge until he found some leftover tamales and sat at the table. Only then did his phone buzz. It was a message from Jose.

  Be there at 6

  Plenty of time. Leon pulled up his email and clicked on the top one. A frown tugged at his lips as he saw yet another form letter rejection from the Humane Society about becoming an advocate for them. Apparently they didn’t want controversial people on their rosters.

  He snorted and went to Twitter where he found almost two hundred comments on the Tweet he’d put up a few minutes earlier. Grimm had made the mistake of replying that Leon was a bully. Over three hundred people had commented on that, most of them Leon’s loyal followers. A few haters sided with Grimm.

  Leon wondered if the guy who had invented Twitter ever imagined that with a single comment, someone using the platform could stir up so much reaction.

  An hour later, the doorbell rang. Leon shoved his phone in his pocket and moved to the entryway. His parents still lived in the house he’d grown up in, despite his offer to buy them a new one. His mom liked the neighborhood, and his dad said that nothing could beat the commute to his work. So instead of coming home to some mansion for Christmas, Leon had tossed his bag into his room—the one still decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling—and now he opened the same front door he’d come and gone through his whole life.

  Two of his oldest friends, Jack and Jose, stood on the porch.

  Jack’s blond hair fell to his shoulders. He wore a leather jacket, jeans, and a pair of expensive shoes. Jose’s black hair spiked out everywhere, and he wore a turtleneck under a longer jacket. Both grinned like idiots.

  “Hey,” Leon said as he opened the screen door to let them in.

  “I brought snacks,” Jack said. He held out a bag of cinnamon bears.

  “I didn’t,” Jose said.

  Leon waved his hand. “You should see what my mother bought. You’d think I had a hundred friends coming over.”

  “I am pretty hungry,” Jose said, sloughing off his coat and tossing it onto the couch.

  “Me too,” Jack said, following suit.

  “Come on in,” Leon said. “Let’s get this party started.”

  They followed him into the kitchen, and Jose’s jaw dropped open when he saw all the food. “You weren’t kidding.”

  “Did she get pizza pockets?” Jack asked.

  “She made some from scratch,” Leon said. “They’re in the fridge, ready to be baked.”

  Jose clasped his hands in front of him. “Tell her I still love her the most.”

  Leon pointed to the counter. “Pla
tes are there.”

  It didn’t take them long to gather mounds of food and move into the basement. They sat around the huge flat-screen television mounted on the wall and played games for several hours.

  “Where are you?” Jack asked.

  “Sniffing flowers,” Leon said, frantically pressing the fire button on the controller.

  “Hurry up, I’m dying here,” Jose said.

  Leon’s screen started to fade out. “No, no.” Leon stood up, still pressing buttons. “No!” he yelled as his screen went red, then black. He slumped back onto the couch.

  The other two laughed.

  “Looks like we have to start again,” Jose said.

  “I need a break first,” Jack said as he stood and stretched, then headed for the bathroom.

  Leon restarted the level and pushed pause. He glanced at Jose. “So, how’s Betty?”

  “You mean Barbara?”

  “Yeah, her.”

  Jose shook his head. “She’s great.”

  Leon narrowed his eyes. “You broke up.”

  Jose shot him an annoyed look. “No.”

  “Then she broke up with you.”

  Jose sighed. “We’re seeing other people.”

  “Hah,” Leon said. “I warned you she wouldn’t commit.”

  “Isn’t it usually guys who have that problem?” Jose asked. “Guys like you.”

  “Me?” Leon pointed at himself. “Naw, I don’t have a problem with commitment. I just won’t do it.”

  “What do you mean, you won’t do it?”

  “I mean that I’m a free man right now, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Until when?”

  Leon leaned back. “Until I’ve lived, you know? A girl will just put restrictions on me.” He spoke in an almost perfect imitation of his mother. “‘Take your shoes off in the house,’ ‘brush your hair,’ ‘we have to go to a family party,’ ‘no, you can’t skydive. Or get a motorcycle.’” Leon held up the controller. “Or even play a video game without getting special permission.”

  “Barbara isn’t like that,” Jose said.

  “Yes she is,” Jack said as he returned. He jerked one thumb over his shoulder. “I suggest no one goes in there for a minute.”

  “Understood,” Leon said.

  “Barbara isn’t like that,” Jose said again.

  “Sure she is,” Jack said. “Remember when you couldn’t come to my birthday party because her niece was turning eight or something?”

  “It’s a big deal in their religion.”

  “But that party was in the morning, and mine was at night.”

  Jose’s shoulders slumped. “She’s not always like that.”

  Leon pointed at his friends. “That’s why I’m a free man.”

  Jack sat and held up a finger. “The right girl is a totally different animal.”

  “False,” Leon said.

  “Oh yeah?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah,” Leon said. “And you know what? Will Kent, our quarterback, actually challenged five of us to a bet.”

  “What kind of bet?” Jack asked.

  “I guess his brother just found true love or whatever, so Will bet us to go back to our first love and try to woo her. If she’s available.”

  “Seriously?” Jose asked.

  “Yup, and the loser has to tell Cameron Cruz that we got into a fight with that Grimm guy.”

  “The same Cameron Cruz who smacked the paparazzi around the other day?” Jack said.

  “Yeah.”

  “So who’s your first love?” Jose asked.

  “Shelia Carson. Met her in college. She’s married with kids, so I agreed to the bet knowing I’d already won.”

  “Clever.” Jack grabbed his controller and sat back down. As he did so, a fart ripped through the air.

  “Dude!” Jose said, throwing his elbow over his nose.

  “What? It’s natural.”

  “You shouldn’t have had that many pizza rolls,” Jose said.

  The stench hit Leon, and he recoiled. “Oh man, that calls for an evacuation. Open the window, Jack. I’m going upstairs for more snacks.” Then he grinned, and farted too.

  “You guys are sick!” Jose said, jumping up and running up the stairs.

  “Coward!” Jack called.

  Leon grabbed a bag sitting on the floor. “Let’s take this outside.”

  Chapter 2

  Sadie flipped the switch that illuminated the Christmas lights, then turned the overhead lights off. A satisfying glow came from the tree, along with the little village on the mantel. The red and white ornaments gleamed, and a train clacked along its plastic tracks.

  The scent of pine floated from the candle sitting at the base of the fake tree, along with a hint of apple cinnamon that wafted in from the kitchen.

  It had been ages since she’d baked anything, and apple pie had sounded like the perfect comfort food—complete with the vanilla ice cream in the freezer. She checked her phone and found that the pie should be ready to come out of the oven in ten minutes.

  “Good,” she muttered to herself as she plopped down on the couch and set her notebook on her lap. “Just enough time to get some writing done.”

  The black, felt-tipped pen came free from the rings with a little zing, and she flipped until she found a blank sheet of paper. After another inhale of holiday scents, Sadie pulled the cap off the pen and shoved it onto the end. She poised the writing utensil over the paper, closed her eyes, and waited.

  Inspiration came in many ways, but for Sadie, it always came best when she had a clear mind after a day of thinking good thoughts.

  That brought a scowl to her face. Good thoughts were more difficult to come by since Brian had broken up with her. His lopsided grin and his wild red hair popped into her mind, and she opened her eyes and glared at the Christmas tree.

  Who would break up via text with their girlfriend of a year and a half two weeks before Christmas? Who would talk about marriage, kids, and growing old together if they didn’t mean it? Sadie shook her head and snorted.

  Good thoughts. She needed good thoughts.

  Which was why she’d come to her parents’ house. They were on a cruise for the holidays, and it gave her the perfect atmosphere. She had wonderful memories of this place, and hoped she could find the solace to get over Brian and finish her proposal.

  So far, all she’d found were memories of him. The postcard they’d sent her parents from the deepest jungles of Peru, hanging on the corkboard by the back door. Leftovers of his favorite meal—a recipe from her mother—sitting in the fridge. The fact that her dad owned the exact same jacket he did.

  Sadie snorted and leaned her head on the back of the couch. “Stupid Brian.”

  And stupid her to still be pining after him.

  She didn’t need him. She was about to embark on a journey that would both profit her and help people. Bring them up when they were down. That was what she wanted to do. If only she could do the same for herself.

  A buzz from her pocket made her jump. Sadie almost dropped the notebook as she hurried to answer. When she pulled her phone out, she expected to see Brian’s face, but it wasn’t him. Would never be him again. Instead, it was her sister.

  Sadie’s finger hovered over the buttons, floating back and forth between red and green. After the third ring, she sighed and swiped the screen to life. “Hey, Darla.”

  “Hey Sadie, how’s it going?” Darla’s voice sounded far away, or like she was in a large room.

  “Are you guys boarding the ship yet?” Sadie asked.

  “We’re about to,” Darla said. “Mom wanted me to call you and make sure you got settled in okay.”

  “Mom can’t call herself?”

  Darla snorted. “You know how she is—she still can’t use the microwave unless she looks at the directions you made her ten years ago.”

  “If that thing ever dies, we’re in trouble,” Sadie said, smiling at the fact that she’d almost taken down the now yellowed
and warped paper hanging over the microwave.

  “So true.”

  Silence settled.

  Sadie cleared her throat. “How was the flight?”

  “Oh, good. I got stuck between two massive men, so that wasn’t very fun.”

  “Except one of them is your husband.”

  “He’s still annoying, thinking all the leg space is for him.”

  Greg’s voice sounded in the background. “It is for me. Sadie, tell her.”

  That drew a chuckle from Sadie. “I’m not getting in the middle of that one.”

  Another round of silence. “Oh, Mom wants to know if you found the leftovers?”

  “Yeah, I found them.”

  “And the bedding?” Darla asked.

  “And the towels, the soap, the shampoo, the toilet paper, and the not-so-subtly placed invitation to the block part tomorrow night.”

  “I told her not to do it,” Darla said.

  “I’m sure you did your best.”

  “She’s just trying to keep your mind off Brian.”

  And just like that, Darla had broken the barrier. Sadie took a deep breath. “I know, but I’m not talking about him this week.”

  “Right, I forgot. Uh-oh, Mom wants to talk to you.”

  Sadie steeled herself, knowing that if she didn’t comply, her mother would simply use Darla to tell her everything. “Put her on.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Sadie!” The excited tone of her mother’s voice made Sadie roll her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, Mom.”

  “You can’t sit depressed on the couch all week.”