Page 56 of Fumbled Beginning

“It’s a start,” Beckett stated the obvious. “But you finally got your chance with her, so don’t blow it.”

“Are you ladies done with all this Dr. Phil bullshit? I came here tonight to play poker and donate some of my cash to you poor suckers, not trade relationship advice and recipes.”

“Speaking of trades, I heard a rumor,” Beckett said, shuffling the cards. “My agent also represents Donaldson. Word is that he’s getting traded to Denver.”

“No shit.” I sat back and studied my cards. Kevin Donaldson has been playing like crap all season, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but we still needed him on the team. We already had two defensive tackles out on injury with no guarantee they would be back next year. “Any idea who we are getting to replace him?”

“Nope.” Beckett tossed a chip in the pile. “From what I gathered, he wanted out of his contract for personal reasons.”

I scratched the side of my jaw. “Do you think it has anything to do with him not getting along with anyone on the team?” It was no secret that the front office had a love/hate relationship with him. Kevin was moody, never smiled, and didn’t play nice with his teammates, but he was damn good at stopping running backs and tipping passes at the line of scrimmage.

“Possibly,” Beckett said. “But I think it’s more than that. His kids are young, and he’s originally from Colorado.”

“Let’s not forget his hot model wife.” Rhett winked. “Although, it seems like we have too many guys, dropping like flies once they get the white picket fence and two point five kids.”

“What about you, Rhett? When are you going to settle down and make Daddy happy?” I asked, turning the tables on him.

Rhett shivered at the thought. Rhett came from old money. His dad was a senator, and his mom was a federal judge. They weren’t very supportive of his decision to join the NFL, and it was no secret that they had a serious job and a list of vetted prospects waiting for him when he was done playing the field, both figurately and literally. We all assumed that was why he messed around so much because he was afraid of life outside of the NFL.

“The thought of that much responsibility gives me nightmares, man,” he said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Morris smirked.

“Nah, I like my freedom too much,” Rhett said, throwing his drink back.

I wished my reasons were as simple as his. If I weren’t so concerned about the skeletons in my closet being exposed and insecure about my past, I’d be in a much better position to commit. My biggest fear was that once I shared that part of myself with Rylee, it was possible she wouldn’t want me anymore. And that thought terrified me because now that I had her, I didn’t want to let her go.

CHAPTER17

RYLEE

“Surprise!”my family yelled the second we stepped inside my mom’s kitchen.

My feet halted in place at all the balloons and decorations filling the room.

“What is all this?” I asked, glancing around and smiling as my dad came forward to hug me.

“Did you honestly think your mother wouldn’t acknowledge your birthday?” I squeezed him back, picking up on the faint familiar smell of Marlboro Lights. He tried to disguise it with cologne, but I could still smell it on his shirt collar.

An elbow nudged me in the side. “You can thank that hunk of a man over there for the surprise,” Kinley said, beaming at me.

My head turned to JP. “You planned this?”

His mouth tipped up in a grin. “Happy birthday, Sunshine.”

My mom placed a glass of wine in my hand and kissed my cheek. “He called me and asked if we were planning on doing anything special for your birthday. I told him we usually just do a quiet family dinner at home with your favorite meal. He insisted on the decorations and the cake.”

My eyes filled with unshed tears. This man could have done something over the top and extravagant. Instead, he called my freakin’ mom and planned a dinner with my family. Who does that after only a few weeks of dating? A keeper, that’s who.

He was standing only a few feet away with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. My eyes locked onto his; they were swimming with heat and intimacy. The tip of his tongue darted over his bottom lip, and I felt my entire body grow warm. He was so getting laid tonight.

My brother cleared his throat and whispered in my ear, “Stop eye-fucking my friend. It’s weird.”

“I’m trying to control myself but it’s hard,” I whispered loud enough to where everyone could hear me.

JP’s dimple popped out, causing Maverick to shake his head. “I think I’m going to check on dinner.”

My eyes followed my brother to the stove, where my mom pulled the eggplant parmesan out of the oven. A crockpot was filled with homemade sauce and meatballs. There was a basket of fresh Italian bread sitting next to it.

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