Catching the Player (A Hamilton Family 3)

Chapter One

He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t possibly be asking her to do this. No way. No how. Not even her brother would stoop that low…would he?

“Absolutely not,” Kassidy Thomas said, shaking her head for good measure. “I’m not wearing that or doing that. Are you crazy?”

Caleb, her annoying older brother who acted like he was still thirteen instead of thirty, waved the offensive item under her nose, clearly refusing to take no for an answer. Like usual. “You have to do it. A deal’s a deal.”

She crossed her arms, frowning, and shook her head again. There was no way in hell she was doing what he wanted. No. Way. “You had insider information. Admit it.”

“How the hell would I have had inside information on the condition of Wyatt Hamilton’s arm? Come on.” He shoved the green contraption under her nose again. Kassidy was this close to punching him in the stomach like she had when they were in high school and he’d told every boy he knew she was a lesbian so none of them would ask her to prom. “Stop being such a sore loser.”

Stiffening, she uncrossed her arms and shoved her glasses into place, reminding herself calmly that she was an adult now, and punching people was not an acceptable response to annoyance…no matter how big a jerk her brother could be. “I’m not a sore loser.”

“Then put on the outfit, and stop pouting.” He wiggled it again, way too excited at her impending embarrassment. “It’s just one song you have to deliver to some stranger, and you’ll never see them again. A couple of minutes. No big deal.”

“Who is it being delivered to? Man, or woman?”

“It doesn’t say,” he glanced at the paper, frowning. “A dude ordered it, though, so probably a woman.”

Well, at least there was that.

“You’ve heard me sing before,” she muttered, her cheeks hot. She scrambled for the papers on her desk and held them up, pointing to them angrily. “There’s a reason I do numbers and stay in here. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. My singing is even worse.”

That was the truth. Ever since the third grade, she’d been pretty much banned from all musicals in her school, and her mother had forbidden her from singing anywhere but in the shower—with the door closed. Some might call it cruel, but Kassidy considered it necessary honesty. Hey, if you sucked at something, you sucked at something.

It was your parents’ job to tell you as much.

Caleb laughed. “That’s the best part. The client requested ‘For he’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ and wants you to dress in a fairytale costume—though, I’m not sure how the two go together, to be honest. But either way, Dad got this costume and didn’t realize it was woman’s, so it might be the only chance this little guy gets to see the light of day.”

She slammed her papers down on the desk. “You’re seriously going to make me do this?”

“I’m seriously gonna make you do this.” He focused on Kassidy, not breaking eye contact. He had hair the same shade of blond as hers, and a dimple in his chin. He’d always been a prankster, but this took it too far. “Besides, weren’t you just saying you wanted to try being a little more adventurous and a little less safe?”

“I meant by going hiking, or taking a painting class.” She came around the side of the desk. “Not making a fool out of myself in front of some stranger.”

“Better that than someone you know.”

Well, he had a point there. But still. “This is all Wyatt Hamilton’s fault,” she muttered.

“It’s not his fault his arm healed better than anticipated,” Caleb said, grinning. “Comes with being a beast on and off the field.”

Yeah, from what she’d heard, he definitely fit that description. The star quarterback from the Atlanta Saviors was never alone, and never seen with the same woman twice. He had quite the reputation as a “beast” and certainly didn’t seem to mind it.

Rolling her eyes, she snatched the outfit out of his hand. It was ridiculously green and ugly. She’d never make a good Peter Pan, or Tinkerbelle, or whatever the heck this was supposed to be. Wyatt Hamilton had been injured last month, and the rumor had been that he would be out of the game for the rest of the regular season. With their best player out, Kassidy has been sure that they would lose to the Pelicans for the first time ever. Caleb bet they’d win as always, and she’d taken that bet. Then Hamilton, jerk that he was, had healed quickly and rejoined the game.

Hence the situation she was now in.

“Don’t forget the tiara thing on the hanger,” Caleb said, grinning way too widely.

She clenched her teeth. “I’ll shove that tiara right up your ass—”

“Kassidy!” her father admonished, walking down the hallway with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Language.”

Her cheeks heated, and she called out, “Sorry, Dad.”

He lifted a hand and kept walking.

Caleb laughed.

She pushed him out of her office and slammed the door shut. Trembling, she fought the urge to kick the door for good measure. He always one-upped her. She should never have taken that stupid bet. If he’d told her this was the price she would have to pay, she wouldn’t have.

No way.

Though, he was right about one thing. At their annual Octoberfest dinner a couple of weeks ago, she lamented that she’d spent most of her twenty-six years acting like she was in a bubble, refusing to actually live. She’d been tipsy at the time, sure, but it was the truth, even so.

She d

idn’t take risks.

Didn’t date.

Didn’t ever jump into anything with both feet.

She overthought everything and lost the only man she ever loved because of it. Her high school sweetheart had gone to the same college as her. They’d made plans to move in together after they graduated, and had talked about marriage—though, she had been undecided on the number of kids she wanted, if any. She’d also been unable to commit to their wedding date, venue, size and, really, to whether or not they should get married at all.

She’d loved Jake with all her heart, and she’d thought he loved her, too, until he left her the week before graduation for some girl named Debbie with big boobs and even bigger hair. He’d told her that her indecisiveness had driven him mad and that if she could ever learn to make up her mind about a single thing without overthinking it, then maybe he’d think about taking her back.

Well, she’d made up her mind all right—she didn’t want Jake back, and she’d decided not to date anymore because men were the devil incarnate.

That had been four years ago.

Four. Years.

At the time, giving up on men seemed right, and backing down from her decision had been too reminiscent of indecision (something she’d just been left for), so for better or worse…she’d stuck to it. In the process, she also stopped doing anything else exciting, and though she’d been alive, she hadn’t really lived in years.

It was sobering.

Her admission was probably why Caleb chose this particular brand of payback, but he was missing the point. She wanted to live, not make a fool of herself. Then again, wasn’t that a part of living? Making mistakes and being able to recover from them?

Sighing, she locked the door and undressed.