The Good Groom Read online

  The Good Groom

  Texas Titan Romances

  Taylor Hart

  Copyright

  All rights reserved.

  © 2019 ArchStone Ink

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.

  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.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Her Football Boss Fake Fiance

  Also by Taylor Hart

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Dax Brady, current first-string quarterback for the Titans, sat in Jon Kincaid’s office. Yes, that’s right, the Jon Kincaid—the father of both Kade and Anthony Kincaid, two elite athletes in football.

  Dax was nervous, and he was right to be. He’d lost the Super Bowl just last week—and it was his fault.

  The Titans had been slotted for a victory all season. Then Kade had hurt his knee right before the Thanksgiving game, and Dax had been bumped up from second string to first string. He’d done well, getting them to the championship game, but in the end, he’d blown it. The rumor was that Dax had lost his mental focus and that the Titans didn’t know if it was worth keeping him or trading him—and the longer Dax sat in the office, the likelier it seemed that the rumor was true.

  It all came back to family. Dax was the oldest of five boys, along with his twin brother, Ziggy, who played professional football for the Denver Storm. Their youngest brother, Ty, had told his family that he had ALS the day after Christmas. It’d been a tough blow, and his family was figuring out how to proceed. What Dax hadn’t anticipated was that the press would use his family’s pain as a media blitz to pump up interest in the game.

  While Dax had been growing up, his dad had teased that he and his brothers were the Brady Five. Like the Jacksons, but not musically talented. Ty, the youngest, was the only one who could sing. The rest could play football.

  Last year, Ty had gotten a big break, opening for Sloane Kent. Everything had been sunshine and butterflies until the foot drop. Ty said he’d noticed his foot feeling slightly off during his run. He hadn’t thought much of it until it got worse.

  As if that weren’t enough, Dax hadn’t been ready for the reporters swarming him right before the game, clamoring about how there was no cure for ALS and how he felt about his brother potentially dying. Screw that. That’s how he felt about it.

  Almost a week had passed since the Super Bowl. Dax didn’t want to be in Dallas, but there was a stupid bachelor auction for charity he was required to attend tomorrow night. Plus, there was this little issue of deciding his fate—would he be traded, or would he be given a shot? Dax understood that Mr. Knight worked closely with Mr. Kincaid, but he wasn’t sure why Mr. Kincaid got to decide if the Titans kept him or traded him.

  It was all a blur to Dax. He needed to get away. Leave Dallas. Go on his annual fishing trip to Wyoming, the one he’d taken after he’d called off his wedding last Valentine’s Day. So what if it was a barely one-year-old tradition? So what if he’d started it after he’d caught his brother, Ziggy, kissing his fiancée the night before the wedding?

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text. It was from Ziggy. Dude, we need to talk about you coming to Denver next week for the Masquerade Ball.

  Dax pushed at his right temple and squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t just all this stuff with Ty; he was also being forced to interact with Ziggy. Dax had strategically planned his visits to Denver to visit his mother when Ziggy wasn’t available. Needless to say, he hadn’t spoken to Ziggy in over a year.

  His phone buzzed again.

  Annoyed, he looked at it. This time, the text was from his next-oldest brother, Boston, who played corner for the Miami Surf. Dude, get over yourself and get your butt to Denver next week.

  Dax rolled his eyes. Boston always carried a chip on his shoulder, and if you asked him, he would claim he’d had to be twice as strong to fend off Ziggy and Dax. He was probably right, but Dax would never give him the satisfaction of hearing him say it.

  Dax managed a grin, thinking how Boston was a dang good corner. He texted back. I’ll come home when I’m ready.

  His phone buzzed again as soon as he hit send. This text was from Ocean, the next brother after Boston. Ocean was twenty-four and a running back for the Los Angeles Wave. He was a media darling, with his tattooed body and long dreadlocks.

  Quit being a sissy and come lead your family. Dad’s gone and Mom needs you. You know that!

  Those words stung. Ocean was right. Their father had passed two years ago from cancer, and his mother had always relied on Dax the most. Unwillingly, he remembered his father squeezing his hand on his deathbed and making Dax promise to be there for his mother.

  He cursed and stood. An expensive-looking vase sat on Mr. Kincaid’s desk, and he wanted to throw it, but he forced the anger down. Dax knew that Ocean wouldn’t be happy to elicit this type of response.

  The buzz of his phone caught his attention again. He clutched it tighter and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows—the bombardment of texts was worse than anything linebackers could dish out—but he eventually held it up.

  Luckily, the text was from Ty. Ignore all of them. Do what you have to do, bro. I love you.

  Warmth pulsed in the center of his chest. Dax briefly closed his eyes, trying to stave off all of his emotions.

  His brothers had rallied together and organized a fundraiser next week. Why would they do a Masquerade Ball on Valentine’s Day? He shook his head. Obviously he hadn’t been involved in the planning, because they wouldn’t be doing this. He had no idea what to say back to any of them, least of all Ty.

  Finally, he texted Ty. I’m not sure what my plans are, but I’ll be donating. He pressed send and stared at his phone.

  His brothers were all at his mom’s house in Denver. They were all in town and all planning together. Except him.

  Clutching his hand into a fist, Dax tried to breathe normally. All of this was happening as if a broken engagement wasn’t enough to be sour over. Sarah had already found someone else—namely the third-string quarterback for the Titans. Dax had gotten an invitation to their wedding right before Christmas.

  Dax looked around. Having all this time to think made him uncomfortable. Where in the heck was Jon Kincaid?

  The room was huge, and it was just one small part of the Kincaid building in downtown Dallas. The Kincaids were big oil money, and this building was an impressive reflection of that fact. The office was all white, aside from the Titan logo on the wall—a declaration in dramatic grey and red. The whole side of the b
uilding was floor-to-ceiling glass, giving the impression that you were looking out over the city. Dax got up and wandered over to the window. Yeah, he was pretty much looking down on Dallas.

  That was funny, he thought. He had millions, but Kincaid money was epic.

  Abruptly, the double doors to the office swung open, and Jon Kincaid, six feet tall with a ten-gallon Texas hat on his head, strode into his office. He was iconic with his white mustache, boots, jeans, and flashy belt buckle. He had a bit of a paunch, but he was tough as nails. When his eyes caught Dax’s, Dax felt that familiar unease that Mr. Kincaid could see into his soul.

  “There ya are, Dax Brady. Glad you’re here,” Mr. Kincaid bellowed.

  Dax didn’t want to mention he’d been summoned, so he plastered on a smile. “Happy to be here, sir.”

  Just behind Mr. Kincaid was Kade, sporting athletic garb, tennis shoes, and crutches. He nodded curtly at Dax.

  Dax wouldn’t pretend he was happy to see Kade. Kade had chewed him out during halftime at the game last week, making sure he knew that if they lost, it would be his fault because he was choking. Even though Dax had understood—after all, the Kincaids were football freaks—that had not helped at all.

  Mr. Kincaid went right to his desk, pointing to a chair across from it. “Dax, sit, please.” He looked at his watch. “She’ll be here soon, so I need to explain what’s going to happen.”

  The nerves that were already wreaking havoc on the lower pit of his gut went haywire. “O-kay?”

  Kade sat carefully in the chair next to Dax, putting his crutches next to the chair. “Relax, Dax. I told Dad I already laid into you pretty good during the game; he’s not going to chew you out.”

  Dax held Kade’s piercing stare. Wordlessly, he focused on Mr. Kincaid.

  Mr. Kincaid leaned back, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Kade had a right to lay into you, don’t you think?”

  Unable to control himself, Dax snorted. “Sure, that can be your story.”

  Kade’s face darkened. “Oh, so what’s your story, Dax?”

  “Maybe if you had torn your gaze from the mirror sometime last season and actually mentored me, we would have had a better chance.”

  Kade shook his head, his eyes widening. “Wait, so this is my fault because I didn’t hold your hand?”

  Normally, Kade was calm. As a seasoned quarterback with a big reputation, Kade usually maintained his poise. Nonetheless, Dax knew the injury had gotten him down. He’d known it for sure when Kade had blown a gasket in the coach’s office. The knowledge had helped Dax keep his cool even though he’d wanted to clock him.

  Dax threw up a hand. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, per se.”

  “That’s exactly what you just said.” Kade’s eyes were steely with determination.

  “I’m saying you could have helped the guy beneath you, but you chose not to care until you couldn’t play anymore.”

  Kade glared at Dax and tried to stand. “Why don’t you just admit you’re a mental wreck?”

  “Stop.” Mr. Kincaid stood and walked around his desk, tsking his tongue. “Kade, sit back. Remain calm, boys. Calm,” he barked.

  Kade sighed, then settled back down.

  Mr. Kincaid leaned against his desk, then looked at Dax. “You know James Knight has turned you over to me. Do you know what that really means?”

  “Yes.” Dax ground his teeth, not wanting to be disrespectful. “Something about fate, sir.” He hated that word.

  Mr. Kincaid flashed a grin. “Yes, fate.” He bent his head forward, searing Dax with that soul-searching gaze. “Mr. Knight has some decisions to make about a certain draft pick. About funds and where to place them next year. As you know, he looks to me for counsel. Since I’ve turned out some winning quarterbacks, he entrusted you to me when I asked him to.”

  “Why would you ask him to let you decide?”

  Mr. Kincaid didn’t budge. “Because I happen to believe in you.”

  Dax swallowed. Mr. Kincaid had given him a huge compliment, even if it didn’t feel that way.

  “And Kade’s done,” Mr. Kincaid said quietly, glancing at Kade. “That’s what all the doctors say, anyway.”

  “What?” Dax’s heart thudded in his chest. This couldn’t be public information.

  Kade grunted. “Found out the damage isn’t fixable—on the day of the championship.” His eyes looked glassy.

  That explained why Kade had been so horrible to him that day. Still, Dax couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Too stunned to say anything, he just stared at Mr. Kincaid.

  Mr. Kincaid exhaled slowly. “So, you see, we need to decide if you still have the mental voracity to step up and be number one, or if the Titans need to seriously look at trading you.”

  “You would trade me?” Dax growled.

  “My allegiance is to the Titans,” Mr. Kincaid said gravely. “If you can’t do the job, we find someone who can. Listen, Dax, I’ll have you know I have a soft spot for brothers. It’s a crying shame what’s happening to Ty.”

  Dax felt all the air go out of him. Not this again. He stared at his hands, not knowing what to say.

  “Do you still want to play for the Titans?” Mr. Kincaid asked, softly.

  Dax’s adrenaline spiked, and he met Mr. Kincaid’s eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you want to be number one?”

  What kind of stupid question was that? Even in the midst of all of his family drama, football was life. “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Kincaid nodded. “Then I have something I need you to do.”

  Kade scoffed. “Dad, I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Mr. Kincaid frowned, and his mustache curved down. “You hush.”

  “What?” Dax drummed his fingers loudly on the wooden side of the chair.

  Mr. Kincaid shook his head. “It’s not therapy, exactly …”

  “Therapy?”

  “A type of therapy.” Mr. Kincaid held up a finger. “We’re not exactly sure how she’ll go about it yet.”

  Dax’s eyebrows furrowed. This sounded rigged. “What the heck?”

  “She’s a dang good therapist,” Kade said. “At least, she was before she left Texas for that hippie last year.”

  Dax surged to his feet. “You know I have a lot going on right now. I just need space to clear my head. I have a fishing trip planned for after the auction tomorrow. That will be all the therapy I need.”

  Mr. Kincaid stood, too. “Wait. You’re going to Denver for the fundraiser for your brother, right?”

  Of course Mr. Kincaid would know. Heck, lately, everyone knew everything about his family. Dax shrugged. “This fishing trip is important.”

  “I guess that’s up to you, but I need you for a couple of days after the bachelor auction.”

  Dax heaved in a breath. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need Ziggy and Boston and Ocean texting him, either. The need to get out of there surged through him. “I have to go.”

  “Just give it a chance, kid,” Mr. Kincaid said. “This is your chance to prove yourself.”

  Dax marched toward the door. Right now, he wouldn’t think about his chance to be starting quarterback for the Titans, nor how easy it would be for James Knight to trade him. Instead, he remembered the look on Ty’s face when he’d told him about the diagnosis.

  Before Dax reached for the doors, they opened on their own. A petite redhead stormed into the office, yelling out, “What is this, Jon? You summoned me? You told the driver that he’d lose his job if I don’t come with him?”

  Dax stumbled back, trying to get out of her path. “Hey!”

  The woman glanced at him before mumbling, “Sorry.” She rushed toward Jon Kincaid, jabbing her finger at him. “You’re not my father, and just because he left you in control of my trust doesn’t mean I have to do what you say.”

  Dax hesitated. This had just gotten interesting.

  Chapter 2

  Sky Brooks wasn’t just angry. She was furious. How dare Jon Kincaid
send a car for her and strong-arm her into coming to his office, threatening to fire the driver if she didn’t come back with him. How dare he!

  Her father had always told her that her temper would get her in trouble. He’d been right, even if she was a trained therapist and knew better than to fly off half-cocked. “I don’t care if my father gave you some deathbed mandate about taking care of me. You don’t get to control me!” She stomped her foot and then realized what she’d done. Humiliation and anger vied within her. “And you don’t get to make me act this way.”

  Jon put both hands up like he was surrendering. “Darling,” he said in his slow Southern drawl. “Just calm down.”

  Then she heard the snickering.

  When she’d burst through the door, she hadn’t noticed Kade sitting in the chair by the desk. She definitely hadn’t noticed the third guy in the room, whom she’d nearly knocked over. With all the maturity of a teenager, she pulled back and slugged Kade in the shoulder. “Shut up!”

  Kade put his hand up, still laughing. “Sky, Sky, just calm down. Dad has a job for you I think you’re going to like.”

  The word “job” gave her pause. She hadn’t told anyone she was almost out of money. Sure, she’d shown up at Jon’s office last week, asking if he would give her access to her trust, but no one knew she needed money. Did they?

  Jon smiled at her. “You up for taking on a client?”

  “No,” she said quickly.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “A football player near and dear to my heart.”

  “I don’t take on football players.”

  Jon sighed. “Your dad thought he had talent, too.”

  Sky hadn’t practiced since her father had passed over a year ago. The thought triggered a cascade of memories; her mind’s eye saw him in Jon’s office when she’d come to see him at work, sitting in the exact chair Kade sat in now.