Hard Fall (St. Louis Mavericks 1)

He laughed and squeezed my hand. “It was hard for you to even say those words, wasn’t it?”

I smiled. “A little.”

“You were both right and wrong. I was an asshole to you the first time we met—like I told you, I’d had too much to drink and I was used to hearing yes from women. I was a young professional athlete, and I enjoyed the hell out of all the perks. But I’ve never been a bad guy. I had some maturing to do—hell, I probably still do. I’m not letting you and the kids down, though. I’ll never do that.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear and took a sip of my wine.

“Do you think, if Ben and Lauren hadn’t…died…that we’d still argue every time we saw each other?”

“Oh yeah. You’d still be calling me an overgrown frat boy at Annalise’s wedding someday.”

“And you’d be asking me if hot flashes were melting the icicle stuck up my ass.”

He hangs his head. “Not my finest moment, Hadley. I’m sorry I said that.”

I shrugged. “I’ve said worse about you. We always just brought out the worst in each other.”

Wes released my hand to take a sip of his whiskey, and he was grinning when he set the glass back down.

“Can I tell you something I think we’ll get a good laugh out of, now that it’s way in the past?”

“What?”

“Remember when I was late to Ben and Lauren’s wedding, and you…disapproved of my existence?”

“I do.” I interlocked my hands together and propped my chin up on the fist I’d made. “I owe you an apology for that.”

He put both hands up. “No, not at all. Being late when you’re the best man is a dick move. But the truth is, I was the first one at the church that morning.”

“How?” I furrowed my brow. “You came rolling up the parking lot ten minutes after the ceremony was supposed to start; I was waiting for you.”

“With a warm greeting, as I recall,” he said with a wink.

I cringed at the memory.

“I was at the church that morning, but I had to leave because Ben forgot the rings back at our hotel. He was so pissed at himself. I’ve never seen him so upset about anything. So I went back and got them.”

I was completely speechless as I processed this new information.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I finally asked. “I wouldn’t have called you all those names, or considered taking off one of my heels and beating you with it, if I had known.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t letting Ben take the fall. I’ve got broad enough shoulders to take a little browbeating from the bridesmaids.”

I covered my face with my hands and laughed. “God, Wes, I feel awful.”

“Don’t. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad. I think it’s pretty funny, actually. And you were right a lot of the time when you busted my balls. That’s why it bothered me so much. I never should have brought that woman to Annalise’s first birthday party.”

I laughed at the memory. “Oh, that’s right! What was her name?”

He gave me a sheepish look. “No idea.”

“You were right about me, too,” I admitted. “About me being too uptight and not having a life. And about me being nothing like Lauren.”

Wes’s face turned down, his expression going from lighthearted to serious. “No, I was wrong about that, Hadley. You’re a lot like Lauren.”

“I’m not, though. Lauren was sweet and funny, and she made everything look effortless. She always made people feel good when she was with them.”

“You make me feel really good,” Wes said, his gaze loaded with meaning.

“I think most women have that effect on you in bed,” I quipped.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about when you fold my laundry and don’t say anything about me not doing it. When I get home from a road trip and see you left me a plate of dinner in the fridge. When everything with the team feels like shit and you’re the only one I want to talk to about it. When I overhear you telling the kids stories about when they were born, and when you take such great care of them even though you’re tired and stressed from your own job. You’re a lot like Lauren.”

My heart pounded and my eyes stayed locked with Wes’s. I knew we were compatible in bed and we’d learned to get along, but what he’d just said to me felt like…more. And it felt good. It felt damn good. Other men had told me I was too harsh, too honest, too independent. Wes had been the first man to see the caring, nurturing woman I was deep down.

“Thank you,” I said, looking away so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill over.

Wes smiled at his phone screen and turned it to face me. There was a picture Nash had sent of him, Lars, Benny and Annalise in the playroom. Nash was wearing a dark red wig and Lars, with a stone-faced expression, was getting his hair brushed by Annalise. She looked like she was having the time of her life.