Her Surprise Engagement
Autore
Cari Lynn Webb
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CHAPTER ONE
SUNDAYS WERE RESERVED for church. Family brunch. And football. Always football.
Only this Sunday was anything but typical. Prayers were too late. Family brunch had been rescheduled for next weekend. And Chase Jacobs’s football season had ended three weeks ago in overtime to Oklahoma City.
One field goal kick—three simple points—had broken the Bay Area Pioneers’ eight-game winning streak, ending their playoff run. Chase and his teammates had returned home to clear out their lockers, contemplate where exactly they’d gone wrong and watch their longtime rivals step onto the field for the most important game of the season: the Super Bowl.
Chase climbed out of his SUV in the empty parking lot of San Francisco College of Medicine. He locked the car doors, headed toward the entrance of the five-story office building and pulled his baseball cap lower on his head.
The tinted double doors swung open. A woman stood in the entrance, her brunette hair contained in her usual practical, sleek bun. She lacked Chase’s height, barely reached his shoulders, yet her perceptive hazel eyes and fearless posture commanded his full attention. That trait she’d inherited from their mother. He shortened his greeting to a simple: “Mallory.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d come this morning.” His oldest sister tilted her head as if assessing him.
Chase stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Certain his baseball cap shadowed his face and his guilt. He’d considered skipping their appointment, but his mother and two sisters hadn’t raised him to be a quitter. Besides, Mallory would’ve tracked him down like a defensive lineman sacking the quarterback. “As if that was an option.”
“Glad you saw things my way.” Mallory nodded and locked the doors behind him.
The medical offices were closed. Normal business hours resumed tomorrow. Chase shouldn’t be here either. If not for his persistent sister.
“Does this mean you’re finally ready to listen to all my very valuable life advice?” Mallory asked.
Chase shrugged. “If I start listening to you, I’ll have to listen to the others too.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you.” Mallory shook her head. “Your family knows best.”
“But it might not be as entertaining as listening to myself,” Chase teased and followed his sister around a wide reception desk, down a long hallway.
“Perhaps if you listened to us, you wouldn’t keep making the news.” Mallory stopped and unlocked an office door. The placard read: Mallory C. Jacobs, MD. Assistant Professor of Anesthesiology.
A familiar jolt of pride pulsed through Chase. His big sister was a doctor and a professor. She was well respected, well-liked and successful. Everything he’d always known she’d become, despite setbacks and difficult times. Chase stepped into her large office.
“Mom brought Nonna breakfast and the Sunday newspaper this morning.” Mallory turned on the lights. The warm glow did nothing to soften the annoyance in her tone. “Nonna enjoyed reading the article about your golf cart incident at that private club last night.”
Chase swiped his hand over his mouth, disrupting his grin. He could count on his nonna to be entertained. As a kid, Chase had to weed his grandmother’s garden and mow her lawn every Sunday. It was supposed to have been punishment for whatever infraction he’d caused during the school week—there was always something he’d managed to do in class that landed him in trouble. And yet, Sundays had quickly become his favorite day. His grandmother had taught him to cook and garden. She balanced her criticism with affection, disapproval with support. But mostly, she loved Chase fiercely. He loved her even more fiercely. He’d head to the store after this and pick up the ingredients to make Nonna her favorite dinner.
His sister dropped her purse on one of the twin high-backed leather chairs. “Mom was not as impressed with your golf cart racing skills. You should call her when we finish here.” A warning wove through his sister’s words.
Judging from the dozen voice mails and texts Chase hadn’t yet opened, his agent and the entire Bay Area Pioneers’ coaching staff were not impressed either. The off-season always became more complicated than the regular season. During the season, Chase kept his focus on football. Mostly.
Now, less than a month after the Pioneers had lost in the divisional playoff game to Oklahoma City, Chase had already made headlines. And not the kind the coaches and team owners wanted to read. If only that was all Chase had to face.
His sister rolled her leather chair toward her desk. Her keen gaze leveled on him. “You need a wife, Chase.”
As if a wife would solve anything. Marriage was win or lose. His mother had lost after their father had walked out, leaving their mom with three kids under the age of eight to raise all alone. His middle sister had lost too. Ivy had chosen the wrong guy and only recently begun to enjoy her life again. Two years after she’d signed the divorce papers. Chase preferred to remain single and secure. “Why would I ever want a wife?”
“You need someone to speak on behalf of your conscience.” Mallory booted up her computer and typed on the keyboard. “Maybe you’d listen to your wife.”
“Hey.” Chase lifted his hands in surrender. “The golf cart race was...”
“Not your idea.” His sister finished for him. “Nothing is ever your idea. Not climbing into a life-size inflatable hamster ball at that party. Or kayaking over a waterfall in a national preserve. Or powerboat racing in a restricted area. Yet you’re the one who always makes the headlines.”
Chase shifted in the chair. The stiff leather creaked. He forced himself to sit still. He’d squirmed less in the principal’s office. “That’s the problem with the spotlight—it’s hard to get away from it once it catches onto you.”
Mallory frowned at him. “Maybe you should try harder to avoid it.”
Chase teased, “Where’s the fun in that?”
“There’s nothing funny about your shoulder, Chase.” His sister turned the computer monitor toward him.
Mallory had arranged an MRI on Chase’s injured shoulder. Thanks to her colleague, Chase was getting the results early. Right now. In private. Before the Pioneers’ coaching staff and team doctors. Chase squeezed the armrests, digging his fingers into the leather. Pain throbbed through his right shoulder. He lowered his voice, flattening out his wince, and avoided looking at the computer screen. “I just need to rest it.”
“It’s not that simple this time.” Mallory’s face tensed.
He’d seen that look before. When Mallory had explained the complications about Nonna’s osteoporosis and the poor outlook for their cousin’s cancer diagnosis. But Mallory had never directed that specific look at him before.
Chase scrubbed his palms over his face, catching his beard. He should’ve shaved before he met his sister, put himself together better. That was the key, wasn’t it? Looking composed and confident made it so. He’d read that in a men’s magazine on the plane to Oklahoma City for the divisional playoff game. He’d had a career high for touchdown passes. It still hadn’t been enough to secure the win. Maybe if he hadn’t taken that hit in the fourth quarter. Maybe if...
Pain arced through his shoulder into his chest and down to his hand. Chase focused on his big toe like his physical therapist had taught him two days after his injury. Nothing ached there in his left toe. The pain sensation was only temporary. The air released inside his lungs. His concentration returned to his sister. “Is this Dr. Jacobs talking or my big sister?”
“Your big sister is ordering you to call Mom when you leave here.” Mallory set her folded hands on her desk and eyed him, her gaze solemn. “The anesthesiologist, on recommendation from her orthopedic surgeon colleague, is telling you that you must have surgery on your shoulder.”
Not another shoulder surgery. Not now. “But the hit wasn’t that bad.”
“Perhaps not.” Mallory leaned back in her chair. “But your entire shoulder was already compromised. Three prior surgeries tend to do that.”
“I played the entire fourth quarter and overtime with this injury.” He rolled his shoulder as if that proved he was fine and completely negated the need for an operation.
“Your shoulder needs to be fixed as soon as possible.” Mallory pulled the monitor toward her and studied the screen. “You’re going to need an extended recovery time.”
“Extended.” His shoulder throbbed as if in agreement. The wince cinched his voice this time. He cleared his throat. “That hasn’t been the case in the past.”
“Those weren’t the same injuries.” Her fingers tapped on the mouse, her gaze remained fixed on the monitor. Hesitation lingered in her voice. “You need every day of the off-season and some of the preseason to recover this time.”
Wariness crawled through Chase. His oldest sister never avoided confrontation. Never sidestepped an issue. Mallory had been their mother’s right hand growing up. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She blinked, slow and steady, and considered him. Her face softened. “How much do you love football?”
“You already know how much. It’s my life.”
“Then you better schedule surgery soon if you want to continue living your life.”
“I can’t have another surgery.” His contract was up for renewal. Without a new contract, he wouldn’t have a team to play for. Negotiations were about to begin. An op and tons of rehab would not work in his favor.
“You have no choice,” she said.
He matched the unyielding edge in her tone with his own rigid voice. “But the Pioneers have a choice.”
“You’ve played your entire professional career with the Pioneers,” she argued. “You led the league in touchdowns this season alone.”
“Is that enough?” he asked. He was thirty-three and injured. There were younger, faster, healthier guys prepping right now for the draft. If the critics were to be believed, fourth in the league was a generous rating for the aging Pioneers’ offensive line. Chase’s body felt less than mediocre. He took longer to get out of bed and loosen up his muscles. His shoulder seemed to have given up. But he would overcome all that in the off-season with rest, determination and diligence like he always had.
“If you’d quit dinging your reputation every chance you got, it just might be.” Mallory stood and walked around her desk. “Now go and call Mom.”
He quickly anchored his most persuasive smile into place. “Can you call Mom for me?”
“I stopped covering for you in high school.” She opened her office door. “But I’ll put in a good word for you when I talk to her.”
“You’re my favorite sister.” He hugged her.
“You told Ivy the same thing yesterday after she brought your favorite sandwiches for lunch.” Mallory laughed.
“Fine.” Chase released her and grinned. “You’re my favorite doctor sister.”
“I’m the only doctor in the family,” she said. “And it’s a good thing for you.”
Chase loved his sisters. Yet Mallory and he shared a close bond. She’d moved in with him during a difficult breakup. Pleased he could finally take care of his independent and capable sister, Chase had kept an endless supply of tissue boxes in the linen closet and a freezer full of cookie dough ice cream. And he’d kept Mallory’s secrets safe.
The same as Mallory kept his confidences. He knew Mallory wouldn’t share the details about his current situation. He just wasn’t sure how long he could keep the secret from his team or the press.
