I roll my eyes at her overreaction. I grew up on this pitch. This is where I learned the game of football. There’s absolutely nothing I could do here that would shock anyone.
I wrap my arm around Indie and pull her to my side. “Relax, Specs. When your dad manages the team, no one blinks an eye at you.” I release my hold on her to bend over and pick up one of the many footballs spread out all around us. Moving away, I begin bouncing it on my knees and head nod to Booker, who’s still lying on the grass. “Hey, Book.”
“Cam,” Booker replies, pulling his knee to his chest to stretch himself like he was perfectly capable of doing all along. The cheeky wanker.
I glance over at my beautiful fiancée, who is currently shooting daggers at me. Her brown eyes are stunning as ever, but they do not look soothed by my words. “I’m serious, Cam. You can’t come around the pitch to see me whenever you feel like it.”
I stop bouncing the ball and clutch it to my hip. “Why not?”
“Because it’s unprofessional.”
“Stuff that! You’ve broken the rules for me before,” I reply with a wink. Memories of Indie playing hot doctor and me being the naughty patient will be the highlight of my life when my balls are old and saggy. Forbidden romances always do taste the sweetest.
“Well, no more,” she retorts firmly. “I don’t need anyone else talking crap about me because I’m engaged to the manager’s son.” She closes her eyes and grimaces like she didn’t mean to say the last part.
I drop the ball and turn to my brother. “Who is talking crap?”
Booker rises up to a sitting position and props his arms on his knees. “Tanner and I put them straight. Don’t worry about it, Cam.”
“Tell me,” I nearly growl and kick the football high, toward the goal that’s over half a football field away. It bounces off the top bar and misses.
Out of nowhere, Tanner leaps up onto my tensed back. His beard tickles the side of my face as he bellows, “Hey, broseph! What are you doing here? Did the Gunners fire you already?”
He tries to pull me in a headlock, but I shove him off and kick another football in frustration. “No…I’m already done for the day. What’s this shit I’m hearing about the team trash-talking Indie?”
“Camden!” Indie exclaims, attempting to grab my arm and pull me toward her. “Just leave it. I’ve got it handled.”
Tanner’s eyes narrow as he crosses his arms and stares back at me. It’s hard to take him seriously with his man bun and Dumbledore beard. However, he’s lost all humour on his face, so I know this isn’t a laughing matter.
“I’ve had words with them,” he states with a grim tone that’s very unlike him.
“Words with who?” I ask through clenched teeth. I rear back to kick another football. This one makes it in the net easily. “What are they saying?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Booker shake his head at Tanner.
My blood pressure spikes. “What are you guys not telling me? I want to hear it all.”
Tanner exhales heavily. “We have to tell him, Book.”
Booker winces and yanks off his goalie gloves before hopping up to his feet. “I overheard some of the guys saying that you only put a ring on Indie’s finger as a publicity stunt for your new team.”
“What?” I roar, my hands raking through my hair. I clench the locks tightly in my fists because I’d rather be punching their faces. A lot of the guys used to be my teammates. Who the fuck would say that?
“Guys, stop!” Indie exclaims, trying to stand between the three of us to halt our conversation, but we’ve essentially boxed her out. This is a brother moment that can’t be interrupted. If Gareth were here, he’d be initiating a Harris Shakedown.
Tanner looks straight at me and replies, “They were saying you don’t have any intention of marrying her. They were even saying the ring is a fake.”
“My fists of fury are going to fucking fly!” My face heats with rage as I spin on my heel and boot four balls in a row. Three of the four hit the goal. The last one buzzes way over the top bar because I scooped under it too much.
My eyes dart all over the pitch to where the rest of the players are making their way toward the changing room on the opposite side. I begin walking. “Time for me to have words with some of my former teammates.”
“We handled it, broseph,” Tanner barks, grabbing hold of my arms and yanking me backward. “Trust me. Booker and I both got fined for handling it.”
Indie rushes up in front of me and pushes my chest. “Camden, you’re only going to make it worse!”
Her voice breaks on the end with barely contained emotion. It’s then that my rage is tempered. Snuffed out. Crushed by the woman I’m in love with. I look down into Indie’s glossy eyes and it fucking guts me.
“Indie, they are saying I don’t want to marry you because we haven’t set a date,” I grind out through clenched teeth though I hardly need to spell it out for her. She’s the smartest person I know. “There are two ways we can fix this. Either you set the date already, or I punch their fucking lights out.”
Indie’s face crumples in worry as she nervously gnaws on her lower lip. Her anxiety kills me because she has all the power here. I wanted to get married right away, but she was the one dragging her bloody feet.
My jaw is tight when I plead with her one more time. “Specs, just set a bloody date already.”
She turns away from me and begins hurriedly picking up stray footballs. Months. It’s been months that my brilliant fiancée has avoided this conversation with me and I’m tired of it.
With a heavy sigh, I turn back to Booker and Tanner. “Tell me what your fines were so I can pay you back. You guys don’t have to fight my battles for me.”
“Fuck off,” Tanner growls while tightening his hair-band. “We’re Harris Brothers and Indie is our friend. This is as much our fight as it is yours.”
Booker nods in agreement and they both cross their arms over their chests, clearly setting their decision in stone. After a moment of staring at them, I finally nod a silent thanks and they give me a hearty pat on the back before making their way off the pitch.
Indie is still completely focused on placing the stray balls into the sack, clearly trying to avoid talking to me.
I stride over and bend to grab a ball. “Is this a typical job for the team doctor?”
“No,” she snaps quickly, then adjusts her glasses as they slip down her nose.
“Specs.” I state her nickname softly and walk toward her as she bends to pick up another ball. “Specs,” I repeat as she fumbles to drop the ball inside with only one hand.
The bag falls to the ground, several footballs spilling out around our feet. I reach up and grasp her cheeks in my hands to force her to look at me. Her eyes swerve nervously all around as she checks for people who may be watching us.
“Camden, please,” she croaks, her voice thick with emotion as she tries to pull out of my embrace.
“No,” I reply, moving my hands from her face and wrapping them around her waist to hug her to me.
Indie has never been huge on affection, but she’s changed with me. When we’re together at our house in Notting Hill, she’s completely open. Right now, she’s reminding me of the closed off surgeon who was raised by cold, unfeeling parents who left her alone in boarding schools for most of her life.
“Indie, I love you. Fucking marry me so we can put this stupid gossip to bed.”
Her eyes fly wide. “I’m not going to marry you because a couple of guys don’t know how to keep their mouths shut in the changing room!” she snaps.
“Then marry me because I asked you to. Marry me because I want to take the next step with you!”
“And who will attend this wedding?” she asks, stepping out of my arms and swiping under her glasses as errant tears fall from her eyes. “Your entire family and my one and only friend, Belle? Not to mention the fact that Belle is married to Tanner, so she’s technically your family!”
“So what! Who cares who we invite? Everyone loves you.”