The Blindsided Groom (Last Play Masquerade Romances Book 4)

  The Blindsided Groom

  Last Play Masquerade Romances

  Heather Horrocks

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Heather Horrocks. 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.

  To Andy Marsh, my awesome son-in-law, who—like Daniel—had to recover from the debilitating effects of a fifth concussion. I’m glad you’re doing so well. Thanks for being such an honorable husband to our daughter and amazing father to our adorable grandsons.

  Also in memory of my witty, funny Aunt Joan, from whom I totally stole “floor d’oeuvres.” I hope you get a laugh out of it in heaven. I miss you. Say hi to Mom for me.

  And to Mark, who is the quarterback in my game of life.

  Author’s Note

  Watch for the next Reid brother’s romance when Sam finds a real estate agent to find him a house, but realizes he wants to create a home with her.

  The therapy company in this book, Cerebration Works, is based on a real business. Amazingly enough, Cognitive FX’s program actually lasts just one week, not two, but I needed a second week for the romance to work (you know how we authors are, shifting reality to suit our needs). In that one week, I saw my son-in-law improve dramatically and continue to improve with the home exercises they gave him to perform.

  For more information about ALS, check out ANSWER ALS at https://www.answerals.org/. Here’s an article about the work they’re doing. https://news.microsoft.com/features/people-living-with-als-share-their-data-in-extraordinary-effort-to-end-the-devastating-disease/?ocid=lock

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to bestselling author Taylor Hart for inviting me to play in her amazing Last Play universe.

  As always, thanks to USA Today bestselling author Diane Darcy, for the many years of dear friendship and combined plotting synergy (nearly a hundred books so far)!

  And many thanks to all the amazing people who read this, from intensive to light and in between. You’re amazing! Heidi Nielsen, Katherine Ward, Lori Hocker Carson, Rocky Palmer, Tabitha Valencic, and Theresa Crouse.

  Contents

  Chapter 1 ~ He’d Be a Sitting Duck

  Chapter 2 ~ That’s a Lot of Money

  Chapter 3 ~ Let’s Just Disappear for a Week

  Chapter 4 ~ Have You Ever Seen Two People More Pigheaded in Your Life?

  Chapter 5 ~ Then Just Give Us a Hint and Beat Us Up a Little

  Chapter 6 ~ A Gift?

  Chapter 7 ~ Maybe You’re Just with The Wrong Reid Brother

  Chapter 8 ~ I’m No Notch

  Chapter 9 ~ No, I’ve Got It Good

  Chapter 10 ~ The Wrong Conclusions

  Chapter 11 ~ You Want All of Us?

  Chapter 12 ~ You Will Be Generous, Right?

  Chapter 13 ~ I’ll Give You the World

  The Bighearted Groom Chapter 1

  The Ever After Groom Chapter 1

  BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS:

  Also by Heather Horrocks

  About the Author

  Chapter 1 ~ He’d Be a Sitting Duck

  “How could you fall for a scam like that?” Knox Reid stared at his brother in disbelief, practically yelling to be heard over the noisy crowd in the Seawell Ballroom.

  Daniel Reid pulled off his mask and looked up at him, his eyes narrowed. He pushed to a standing position, holding onto the chair for balance. As if to put them on equal terms.

  This Romeo and Juliet Masquerade Ball Fundraiser was raising money for ALS—a lot of money. Which was why Knox had agreed to wear this ridiculous mask in the first place, because of his brother’s pre-ALS symptoms. He pulled it off, for the second time that night, to glare at his stubborn brother.

  Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis wasn’t a diagnosis anyone welcomed. A neurodegenerative disease, it was increasingly linked to concussions—especially multiple concussions like football players received.

  With a growl, Knox dropped his large frame onto the seat next to his brother. He didn’t want to force Daniel to stand when he had trouble with his balance.

  For a moment, he thought his brother would remain standing out of sheer stubborn determination, but then Daniel sank back down and said patiently, as if talking to his little kids, “Because I don’t want to die.” He motioned around the room. “You and the others here tonight, you’re doing a good thing for other people, but for me, ALS is a distinct possibility. I already have pre-ALS symptoms since my last concussion. I want to live as long as I can and be functional as long as possible. I’ve seen the struggle Ty has had. That’s why I’ve agreed to this therapy.”

  “Let me get this straight. Some pretty young thing comes up to you and offers to reverse your pre-ALS symptoms, and you believe her?”

  “I hope she’s right.” Daniel looked over the crowd swirling around them. People laughing, dancing, talking, and eating, all for a good cause. The cause he and Ty Brady, the brother of Knox’s teammate, Ziggy Brady, were representing.

  Along with Travis Nelson and Nate Decker, Ziggy and Knox made up the offensive line of the Denver Storm pro football team. The owner of the team, Cameron Cruz, had put his full support behind this fundraiser. More importantly, Cameron and Will Kent had upped the ante by challenging the offensive line to ask a woman to dance. If they did, Cameron and Will would each donate an additional twenty grand to the cause. Forty grand—per man. An additional eighty grand to the cause.

  Instead, Knox was here arguing with his brother. Along with their brothers, Sam and Frank, Daniel had played for the Waco Wranglers until his fifth concussion had taken him out of action at the age of thirty. He was still slurring his words and stumbling when he walked, even two months later. He hadn’t received an official diagnosis of ALS, but he already had the symptoms.

  Daniel made an attempt to change the subject. “Ziggy’s intro sure had the crowd cheering.”

  Knox nodded. Ziggy had taken the mic and, when he’d gotten to the part about “affecting your brother, that hits home,” Knox had been overcome with emotion and had ripped off his mask and raised his fist in solidarity and support. Then Travis, Nate, and other teammates ripped off their masks and raised their fists, too.

  It had been an intense moment, and Knox’s heart was still aching.

  He wasn’t going to be deterred. “Daniel, please reconsider this therapy thing. Nothing that only lasts two weeks is going to reverse your symptoms. It’s too good to be true.”

  “I’m going to do it.” Daniel shook his head in frustration, probably at stumbling over his words, but no one could miss the pigheaded, stubborn determination behind them.

  “You’re being scammed,” Knox repeated more emphatically.

  “Maybe I don’t mind being scammed by a pretty woman. It’s happened before. I got two kids and a future alimony check out of that one. Even high school sweethearts can turn out bad.”

  “Seriously, dude, don’t let one attractive girl ruin your marriage,” Knox warned.

  Daniel’s face settled into angry lines. “Jessie left me. She deserted me in my time of need. Maybe I’m looking for the next one.”

  “That’s dangerous talk. I’m sure Jessie is just working through things. She�
��ll be back.”

  Daniel shook his head. “I’m on my own.” After a pause, he got out, “I want to play football. Amy’s going to help.”

  “Amy is peddling a scam therapy. What you really need is marriage counseling. You need to try to save your marriage.”

  Daniel lifted his mask up and settled it back on his face. “Go away. Start packing for Italy.”

  Knox shook his head as he stood. He was catching a flight to Europe tomorrow and had been looking forward to it for the past year. He’d dated an Italian woman. The relationship hadn’t lasted, but his desire to see the sights in Rome had. He wasn’t going to let his brother use his trip to change the subject. “Don’t blow your marriage, dude. Jessie is worth fighting for. Sophie and Levi for sure are.”

  Daniel scowled at him.

  “There’s $40,000 hinging on whether I ask someone to dance or not. I’m going to go earn that donation for the cause.”

  “At least you can dance,” Daniel muttered.

  Knox spun away from the table, dodging between people despite his large frame.

  He glanced at the dance floor to see Ziggy dancing with a petite woman—but they were all petite when you were well over six feet tall. They still had masks on, but it was hard to miss an offensive lineman’s physique—they all averaged over 300 pounds on a 6’5” frame. All muscle. Just like you’d still be able to pick out Jason Mamoa on the dance floor, even if he wore a mask. Same with Ziggy and Nathan and Travis. And Knox.

  It was time for Knox to earn his $40,000 donation from the issued bets.

  He bumped into a woman. “Excuse me.”

  He reached out a hand to steady a petite blonde wearing a shimmery sea-blue gown and a fancy blue-and-purple feathered Mardi Gras-type mask.

  Her arm was warm and her amazing green eyes shone up at him through the mask. Her eyes sparkled, as though she might be smiling, as she reached out and touched his forearm. “No problem.”

  Her voice was smooth and husky, and she had a slight accent that reminded him of growing up in Texas.

  That convinced him. He’d dance with a Texas gal. If she’d say yes, that is. “Would you like to dance?”

  She tipped her head. “Sure.”

  She walked beside him onto the dance floor, then turned to face him. The song was a slow one, and she slipped into his arms as if she were meant to be there. The touch of her sent shivers tingling along his limbs. She wore a light floral perfume, something citrusy. And her thick blonde hair curled around her mask.

  His mouth was a little dry when he asked, “Do you like football?”

  “Oh, do you mean soccer?” she asked sweetly as he began to lead her into the dance steps his mother had taught him so long ago. “I love it.”

  He stopped with a snort and held her out at arm’s length. “Soccer? Are you kidding me?”

  “Oh, if only I could see the look on your face right now.” She started to laugh, and the sound wrapped around his chest, swirling in and around his heart. “Yes, I am totally kidding.”

  She nudged him and he began to lead her again. After a moment and several twirls, she said, “I like the Waco Wranglers.”

  “You do know the Wranglers are rivals to the Storm, right?” He wasn’t going to mention that his family played for the Wranglers, not just yet. “And the Denver Storm is helping put on this shindig. Your favorite team, at least for tonight, is the Denver Storm.”

  She laughed again. “Really? You don’t say.” Her voice was sweet and innocent—and mischievous, all at once. “Actually, my favorite teams are the Waco Wranglers and the Baylor Bears. Oh, and apparently the Denver Storm, too. Do you play for them?” She tapped a finger on one of his biceps. “You’re certainly big enough to play for them.”

  Her voice was light and teasing, but he sucked in a breath as she ran her hand back up to his shoulder.

  “Yes.” His mouth was suddenly dry again and he dipped her, surprising her into silence. Then she laughed, and he smiled.

  He lifted her up, and they danced for a moment in silence, then her words registered.

  “You like the Bears? Did you go to Baylor University?”

  “I sure did. Graduated magna cum laude.” She looked up at him. “Where did you go?”

  “I’m a former Baylor Bear, myself. I played football for them. Not soccer.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” She laughed airily. “I didn’t go to any of the games while I was there.”

  “You missed some great games.” He smiled. “You’re from Waco?”

  “Born and raised.” She sounded proud of it.

  He liked that about her. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “I could start singing ‘It’s a Small World,’ if you’d like.”

  “You sing, too? I’m impressed.”

  He dipped her again.

  Waco was his hometown. His brothers, Sam and Frank, were currently playing for the Waco Wranglers. “I’m an alumnus, too.”

  “I figured, with what you said, plus with that accent of yours.”

  He liked the feel of her in his arms. He’d had a lot of women throw themselves at him just because he was a football player—all the way from Sylvia Matthews back in high school to groupies now—and he’d grown weary of women not really seeing him for who he was. Thank goodness this woman didn’t have the vibe of a groupie. She wasn’t crawling all over his body — instead she was teasing him. Soccer, indeed. He snorted again. “When did you move to Denver?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You still live in Waco?”

  She nodded and her mask bobbed.

  “Okay. What do you do in Waco?”

  “I work for a company that does therapy.”

  “Really.” He spun her twice and pulled her to his chest. “Massage therapy? Physical therapy?”

  “Actually, it’s called Cerebration Works and it’s mind-body therapy that helps people who’ve had debilitating concussions.”

  Ice hit his veins. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Could there be two different women here offering therapy for concussions? Suspicious now, he asked, working to keep the coolness from his voice, “Do you know my brother, Daniel Reid?”

  “He’s your brother?” She sounded pleased. “I’m going to be working with him, helping him recover from his last concussion. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  He slowed his steps until they came to a standstill. Luckily, the song was ending.

  She looked up with a question in her vivid green eyes as he released her.

  A new song began.

  Shocked, he said, “You’re the woman doing post-concussion therapy on my brother?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  What did it say about him that the first emotion that slammed into him was disappointment? He’d really liked this woman, been incredibly attracted to her, even without seeing her face, and now this? He stared at her. “You’re the scam artist?”

  “Scam artist?” She sounded offended and clenched her fists. “What are you talking about? I work for a company that helps people. It’s no scam.”

  Anger flooded him. “Daniel is vulnerable right now. He doesn’t need you coming in with your false hope and your pretty blonde hair and curvy figure. You leave him alone. He’s got a wife.”

  She stiffened and her voice rose. “I’m not after your brother.”

  “Make sure you’re not. Leave him alone. He’s got enough on his plate.”

  He spun away and left her standing there as he marched toward dancing couples.

  Why did he still feel disappointed?

  A scam artist?

  Incensed, indignant, infuriated, Amy Kingsley watched the large football player storm from the dance floor.

  Furious, she found herself moving, following him. How dare he? The big jerk. He might be two or three times her size, but at this moment she didn’t care.

  And, suddenly, she also didn’t care that her boss wanted her to sweet-talk people here. She was so angry that she was determ
ined to have her say.

  She was not pulling a fast one or offering false hope. After her father, that’s the last thing she would ever do. He knew absolutely nothing about her, and yet had judged her in a most unfavorable way.

  She raced in her heels for the last few steps, aware that people were beginning to watch her with interest. She didn’t care. She reached the big jerk and yanked on his arm.

  When he stopped and looked down at her, she yanked off her mask and got right in his face—well, as much in his face as she could get when she was a foot shorter than he was—and practically growled at him: “I care deeply about the people who are suffering, and I help them. You know nothing about me or the company I work with and yet you’ve judged me. Well, I’m going to prove my methods to you by helping your brother. And then I expect an apology from you, you big jerk.”

  She shoved past him, bumping his arm.

  Apparently, he was now standing still, watching her.

  Laughter broke out behind her. A man called out, “You give it to him, sister!”

  “Preach!”

  “She took you down a peg or two, didn’t she?” another man called out. “Someone just raided Ft. Knox.”

  More laughter.

  Amy was so mad she didn’t even look back to see his response. The stupid lump of a man. Thought he was God’s gift to women and to the world just because he was a football player and made lots of money and was handsome. Now that she knew he was Daniel’s brother, he must be Knox Reid, who was very good looking, with a light, well-trimmed beard. She’d studied the Denver Storm players before coming here as part of her assignment. Her boss had known Daniel would be attending with his brother.