Chase lurched away from the makeup artist’s brush and stared at his friend. Travis owned a beach house on the cliffs. But a party was not necessary. Or a bonus.
“Already working on the details.” Travis leaned his hip on the mirrored counter and tipped his chin toward Chase. “Do you want to speak to your family, or should I call them? I know they’ll want to be included in the party planning.”
Travis refrained from adding, since they were excluded from the wedding planning. But the disapproval framing his agent’s words seemed to cause a deep frown as if Chase had hurt Travis. Chase hadn’t even been included in the wedding. He had to slow everyone down, starting right now. “We already celebrated after we said our vows.”
“Not with your friends and family.” Elliot scowled. “And by all accounts it was the middle of the night. Where were you again?”
Elliot sounded hurt, too. A cramp twisted his stomach. He wanted to blame hunger. But only guilt gnawed that deep. Details, Chase. We need details. What Nichole had meant was more detailed lies. One city catered to eloping couples every day of the year. “Vegas.”
“Must have been your bride’s dream to celebrate in a casino at the quarter slots.” Elliot’s voice was sandpaper dry.
Nichole had business dreams. Besides, fake marriages did not have real reception parties to celebrate a couple who had never recited any vows. “We enjoyed it,” he told them half-heartedly. It didn’t sound true in the least.
“That’s great,” Travis insisted. “But we are still having a party for you and your new wife.”
Elliot smacked his hands together in one resounding clap. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Chase wanted to hear his contract had been finalized. He wanted to hear the words sign here. “I’ll talk to my grandmother this afternoon and my wife, of course. I’m sure she’ll want to be involved in the party planning.” Or not.
Chase pretended he didn’t have an urge to clear his throat, that the understatement of the year wasn’t lodged in his throat. Nichole had always hated parties. Even more, she’d hated being the center of attention. He’d recognized that after he’d convinced her to run for class treasurer. Nichole had garnered few votes and too much ridicule. He’d blamed himself and guilt had stuck to him like surgical tape.
Travis’s gray gaze sharpened on Chase as if he, too, recognized one of Chase’s tells.
He slanted his attention to Chase’s left hand. “Don’t tell me you lost your wedding ring already.”
“Now that’s a really bad move.” Elliot shook his head and groaned beside Chase. “You gotta be better than that, my man.”
Chase clenched the armrests and scrambled for a reply.
The cell phone clipped to Travis’s waist lit up. The ring split the silence, disconnecting Travis’s assessment and Chase’s response. Travis lifted his phone to his ear and walked away.
“Lost your ring and kept your marriage from your grandmother.” Elliot’s disappointment was more than clear in his continuous, slow headshake. “That’s just not right.”
None of this was right. No one was supposed to even know. At least not until Nichole and Chase had personally told them. “It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind.”
Elliot stilled and glanced at Chase. “Welcome to married life.”
“You’re not married.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s like.” Elliot closed his eyes to allow the makeup artist to dab some kind of thin paper all over his face.
Chase had no idea what married life involved. He had no interest in learning until Nichole had called him her husband and landed in his lap. Then today, seeing Nichole in the wedding gown. He’d been overwhelmed by her beauty, but even more, he’d been proud of her poise. She hadn’t crumpled at the unexpected reports of their marriage. Married life had never really been a consideration for Chase. But there was something about Nichole that captured his interest.
Chase grinned and closed his eyes, blocking out the makeup artist holding a massive brush and a container of cream-colored powder.
“You hate photo shoots and all the prep. Always have.” Elliot’s curious voice broke into Chase’s thoughts. “What gives?”
Chase peered at his friend through his half-closed eyes. “I still do.”
“Why the silly grin then?” Elliot asked.
“Don’t you recognize the expression of a newly married man?”
“You’ve barely been married twenty-four hours. Now if you’re thinking about your upcoming honeymoon and smiling like that, I want the specifics.” Elliot punched Chase’s uninjured shoulder, jarring Chase’s eyes wide-open. “What’s your honeymoon plan? Better not be Vegas.”
Press releases. Wedding receptions. Honeymoons. Chase rocked forward, slammed his feet on the floor in a wide stance. Panic had no place on the field; he wouldn’t panic now either.
Elliot laughed. “Now you can take Beau’s babymoon and raise it with a stellar honeymoon.”
Had Chase’s marriage leveled the field with his backup quarterback already? Chase grinned at his friend. “It’s going to be quite spectacular.” Once he arranged it.
Travis returned. His frown tightened, firming along his jaw. “You skipped your appointment with the team doctor this morning.”
He’d been on his way there, then Nichole had texted. He’d substituted a stop at the jewelry store for the doctor’s office. “I’ll just reschedule for next week. They want to talk about my therapy plans.”
Travis tipped his attention toward Chase’s shoulder as if he knew more than he admitted. “How is the therapy going? Making progress?”
Travis had always been honest and straightforward. Never promised anything he couldn’t deliver. He’d invested time and money in Chase and had believed in Chase’s talent before any professional team. Chase had been loyal to him from their first meeting. Now for the first time ever, Chase broke his own vow to be truthful. “Good. JT and I have an extensive rehab schedule.”
One that had included more than two dozen acupuncture needles after Chase’s mountain bike ride and subsequent hike on Sunday. He’d gained more mobility in his shoulder and the pain had dulled into
