“That was the first place I kissed you. Do you remember that?”

“How could I forget?” she asked.

“That was the summer we were getting ready to go into the first grade,” he said. “Do you think that was what started our little game of one-upmanship?”

“Maybe.” She tried to remember when their rivalry began, but the feel of him stroking her hair distracted her. “I—it’s been so long, I’m not really certain when it began or why.”

“Me either. But one thing’s for sure. You’ve been driving me nuts for most of my life, Abigail Langley.”

Her heart sped up as she met his piercing hazel gaze. “I’m sorry, but you’ve done your fair share of driving me to the brink, too.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He cupped the back of her head with his hand to gently pull her forward. “There are different kinds of crazy, darlin’.” His lips lightly brushed hers. “Right now, I’m thinking that it’s the good kind.”

Dear Reader,

One of my favorite things about being an author is when I’m asked to collaborate with other authors on a miniseries like the THE MILLIONAIRE’S club. I not only get to work with some of the most talented authors in romance, I get to help refine the details that make the stories compelling and remembered long after the series ends.

By now, I’m sure you’ve met Bradford Price and Abigail Langley. Life-long competitors, they have been playing a game of one-upmanship since they were six years old. But finding themselves in a close race for the presidency of the club, the stakes have never been higher.

I really enjoyed the journey Brad and Abby take as they learn that sometimes just below the surface of a fierce rivalry, there’s a burning attraction that once surfaced can’t be denied—no matter how hard they try. It is my fervent hope that you enjoy reading In Bed with the Opposition as much as I enjoyed writing it.

All the best,

Kathie DeNosky

About the Author

KATHIE DENOSKY lives in her native southern Illinois with her big, lovable Bernese Mountain Dog, Nemo. Writing highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor, Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and received the Write Touch Readers Award and the National Readers’ Choice Award. Kathie enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact Kathie at PO Box 2064, Herrin, Illinois 62948-5264, USA, or e-mail her at kathie@kathiedenosky.com. They can also visit her website at www.kathiedenosky.com.

In Bed with the Opposition

Kathie DeNosky

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to the wonderful authors I

worked with on this miniseries. You all are amazing!

And to Charles Griemsman. It’s been a real treat and I

look forward to working on many more

projects together.

One

Brad Price stared at the object in his hand, then at the tiny baby girl grinning up at him as she grabbed her foot and tried to stuff her tiny toes into her mouth. When had Sunnie lost her little pink sock?

Scratching his head, he scanned the floor. She had it on when they arrived at the Texas Cattleman’s Club not two minutes ago. How could a baby barely six months old be so quick?

He once again glanced at the disposable diaper he held. What in the name of all that was holy had he gotten himself into, taking on the responsibility of raising his late brother’s child? He knew about as much when it came to taking care of a baby as he did about piloting a spacecraft to the moon.

When he had made the decision to adopt Sunnie, he had even gone so far as to give serious consideration to dropping out of the race for the TCC presidency. But only briefly. He had made a commitment to seek the office, and he never went back on his word. Besides, he believed in the club and everything it stood for, and he intended to raise Sunnie to believe in those values, too.

The organization needed someone with a level head and a solid plan, and he was the man with both. He had several ideas on ways to bridge the ever-widening gap between the old guard and the younger members in order to unite the club and renew the solidarity that had always been an integral part of the TCC. It was something that had to be done to ensure its future and to continue the valuable services it had always provided for the residents of Royal, Texas.

But if he didn’t figure out how to change Sunnie’s diaper, and damned quick, it would all be a moot point. He would miss outlining his vision for the TCC at the annual general meeting, and for the first time in the club’s history, a woman—the only woman ever to be allowed to join the organization—would be voted into office by default. He’d be damned if he’d let that happen.

Closing his eyes, Brad counted to ten. He could do this. He had a master’s degree in financial planning, had graduated from the University of Texas summa cum laude and in the years since had built a thriving career as a certified financial planner, amassing a sizable fortune of his own. Surely he could figure out something as simple as changing a baby’s disposable diaper.

But where did he start? And once he figured out how to get the one she was wearing off and the new one in position, how the hell was he supposed to fasten it around her waist?

As he studied the sides of the diaper Sunnie was wearing, he tried to remember what his housekeeper, Juanita, had told him when she gave him a detailed lecture on diaper changing before she left him high and dry to rush off to Dallas for the birth of her third grandchild. Unfortunately, he had been preoccupied with putting the final touches on the campaign wrap-up speech he was supposed to give at today’s meeting and barely heard the woman. In hindsight, he should have taken extensive notes or at the very least given the matter his undivided attention.

Just when he decided he was going to have to find one of the club’s female employees and ask her to do the honors of changing his niece, he heard the door of the coat room open. “Thank God,” he muttered, hoping it was someone who knew more about the intricacies of a disposable diaper than he did. “Would you mind giving me a hand here?”

“Having a bit of a problem, Mr. Price?” a familiar female voice asked. Relieved that help had arrived, Brad couldn’t work up the slightest bit of irritation at the obvious humor in Abigail Langley’s tone.

Turning to find his lifelong nemesis standing just inside the door, a knowing smile curving her full coral lips, Brad released a frustrated breath. They had been rivals for as long as he could remember and for the past several months bitter opponents for the coveted office of president of the TCC. At any other time her perceptive expression would have no doubt had him grinding his teeth. At the moment, he couldn’t feel anything but gratitude.

“How are you at putting these things on a baby?” he asked, holding up the offending object.

Laughing, Abby hung up her coat. “Don’t tell me the mighty Bradford Price has run into a problem he can’t solve with his superior logic.”

Not at all surprised that she took the opportunity to make fun of him, he gave her a sarcastic smile. “Cute, Langley. Now will you get over here and help me out?”

She walked over to stand beside the plush sofa, where his niece lay nibbling on her toes as she stared happily up at them. “You don’t have the slightest clue what you’re doing, do you, Bradford?”

Her use of his given name never failed to cause a slow burn deep in his gut. He knew she was using it to taunt him, much as she had done when they were in school. But he couldn’t afford to retaliate. If he did she might not help him, and there was no point in denying the obvious anyway. They both knew he was in way over his head. Besides, arguing with her wouldn’t get him any closer to getting the damned diaper changed.

“Isn’t it apparent?” The familiar irritation he always felt when they were together had replaced his earlier relief at seeing her. “Now, are you going to help me or am I going to have to go in search of someone who will?”

“Of course I’ll change Sunnie,” she said, as she set down her purse and seated herself on the couch beside the baby. “But I’m not doing it to help you.” She tickled the baby’s rounded little tummy. “I’m doing it for this little angel.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

He didn’t care who Abby was doing it for, as long as his niece was changed and dry in time for him to make arrangements for someone to watch her while he gave his closing campaign speech to the TCC general membership. Then, when all of the candidates had finished speaking and were asked to leave the room for final comments from the members, he fully intended to take Sunnie home for a much-needed nap for both of them.

The day had barely begun and he was already exhausted. Taking care of a baby was proving to be a lot more work than he had anticipated. Aside from the feedings at the most god-awful hours of the day and night, there was so much to take along when they left the house, it was like moving.

“Why didn’t you leave the baby with your housekeeper?” Abby asked as she tucked her long, dark red hair behind her ears and reached for the diaper bag Juanita had packed before leaving on her trip.

“She got a call early this morning that her youngest daughter has been scheduled to have a Caesarian delivery tomorrow. She’s on her way up to Dallas to be there for the birth,” he answered, absently. “She won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”

Fascinated by Abby’s efficiency, he watched her line up baby wipes and powder, then lift Sunnie to place a white pad with pink bunnies on it beneath her. How did women automatically know what to do? Were women born with an extra gene that men didn’t have?

That had to be the reason, he decided. He and Abby were the same age, and up until Sunnie came into his life they had both been childless. Yet taking care of a baby seemed to come as naturally to Abby as drawing her next breath, while he was at a loss as to what he should do about everything.

In what Brad would judge to be record time, Abby had the old diaper off of Sunnie and the new one in place. “These are what you use to fasten the diaper around her.” She pointed to the tabs on the sides he hadn’t noticed before. “They are a softer version of Velcro so as not to scratch her tender skin. All you have to do is make sure it’s snug, but not too tight, then—”

Fascinated by the sound of her melodic voice and wondering why he suddenly found it so enchanting, it took a moment for Brad to realize Abby had stopped speaking. “What?”

“Pay attention, Price. You can’t be assured that someone will always be around to come to your rescue whenever Sunnie needs changing.”

“I am paying attention.” He had been listening—just not to the crash course on diapering a baby that Abby had been delivering. He wisely kept that bit of information to himself.

Looking doubtful, she asked, “What did I just tell you?”

Abby had to have the bluest eyes in Texas, he decided as she stared up at him expectantly. They were the color of the blue bonnets that grew wild in the spring, and Brad couldn’t help but wonder why he’d never before noticed how vibrant and expressive they were.

“Well, Mr. Price?” The diaper successfully changed, she picked up Sunnie and stood to face him. “Your niece and I are waiting.”

He cleared his throat as he tried to remember what she had said. But the sight of her holding Sunnie, tenderly pressing her lips to the baby’s soft cheek, was one Brad didn’t think he would ever forget, and he couldn’t for the life of him think of one single reason why he found it so compelling.

“Uh … well … let’s see.”

What the hell was wrong with him? Why all of a sudden was he having trouble concentrating? And why did his lapse of attention have to happen in front of her?

He never had problems focusing on a conversation. Why then, couldn’t he think of anything but how perfectly shaped Abby’s lips were and how soft they would feel on his skin?

“Get it snug. Fasten with Velcro. Avoid pinching tender skin,” he finally managed with no small effort. “Got it.” He gave himself a mental pat on the back for at least remembering that much.

“It took you that long to remember something this simple?” she asked, giving him an accusatory look. “Lucky guess.”

“Yup.” He shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that I got it right.”

She shook her head. “You have to do better than that, Bradford. You can’t just guess. You have to learn how to do these things for her.” Abby slowly swayed side to side the way he’d seen many women do when they held a baby. “You’re her daddy now. You’ve got to step up to the plate and hit a home run on this. Sunnie is depending on you to know exactly what you’re doing and to do it when it needs to be done.”

Abby was right. At times he found the responsibility of adopting his late brother’s child and raising her as his own to be overwhelming. “Let me assure you, I’ll do whatever it takes to see that Sunnie has the best of everything, including the care she needs,” he said, irritated that she thought he would do anything less. “I think you know me well enough to realize that I never do anything halfway. When I commit to something, I’ll see it through or die trying.”

Staring at him a moment, she finally nodded. “Be sure that you do.”

They both fell silent when Sunnie laid her little head on Abby’s shoulder. It was obvious she was about to go to sleep.

As he watched, Abby closed her eyes and cuddled the baby close. “Don’t ever lose sight of how blessed you are to have her in your life, Brad.”

“Never.” Something about her heartfelt statement and the fact that she had used the preferred variation of his name caught him off guard and without thinking he reached up to lightly run the back of his knuckles along her smooth cheek. “You’re going to be a great mom someday, Abigail Langley.”

When she opened her eyes, he wasn’t prepared for the haunted look that clouded Abby’s crystalline gaze. “I’m so sorry, Abby.” He could have kicked himself for being so insensitive. It had barely been a year since her husband, Richard, passed away and Brad knew for a fact that they had being trying to start a family when the man died. “I’m sure that one day you’ll have a family of your own.”

She shook her head. “I wish that were true, but um …” She paused to take a deep breath. “… I’m afraid children aren’t in my future.”

The resigned tone in her voice had him nodding. “Of course they are. There will be plenty of time for you to have kids. You’re only thirty-two, the same as me, and even if you don’t meet another man you want to spend the rest of your life with, there are a lot of women choosing single motherhood these days.”

She was silent a moment before she spoke again. “It’s more complicated than meeting someone or choosing to be a single mother.”

“Maybe it seems that way now, but I’m sure later on you’ll feel differently,” he insisted.

When she looked up at him, a single tear slowly slid down her smooth cheek. “It won’t make a difference no matter how much time passes.”

He couldn’t understand her abject resignation. “What’s wrong, Abby?”

She stared at him for several long seconds before she answered. “I’m … not able to have … children.”

It was the last thing he expected her to say, and it made him feel like a complete jerk for pressing the issue. “I’m really sorry, Abby. I wasn’t aware.…” His voice trailed off. What could he say that wouldn’t make matters worse?

She shrugged one slender shoulder. “It’s not like I haven’t known about it for a while. The test results came back the week after Richard’s funeral.”

That had been a little over a year ago, and Brad could tell she still struggled with the gravity of it all. Why wouldn’t she? To lose your husband and within days learn that you could never have a child? That had to be devastating.

Not wanting to cause her further emotional pain by saying the wrong thing, he decided it would be best not to lend his support with words. He had already put his foot in his mouth once and wanted to avoid doing so again. Putting his arms around her and his sleeping niece, he simply stood there and held her.

But the comforting gesture quickly reminded him of another time when he would have given anything to have her slender body pressed to his. They had just started high school, and over the summer between middle school and freshman year, he had developed more hormones than good sense. At fifteen, he had been more than ready to abandon their rivalry in favor of being able to call her his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, Richard Langley had caught her attention about that time, and from then on it had been obvious that Abby and Richard were destined to be together. And it was just as well, Brad decided. She could push his buttons faster than any female he had ever met and have him grinding his teeth in two seconds flat. It had been that way back then and it was still, after all these years, that way now.

“It would probably be a good idea if we head toward the assembly room,” she said, effectively ending his trip down memory lane. “It’s almost time for the meeting to be called to order.” Her tone was soft, but her voice was steadier than it had been earlier, and he knew she had regained the majority of her composure.

Nodding, Brad released her and took a step back. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make the moment more awkward than it already was. “I should have just enough time to get one of the staff to watch Sunnie before the speeches begin,” he finally said, checking his watch.

“How long do you think she’ll nap?” Abby asked, walking over to carefully place the infant in the car-seat carrier. “If you think she’ll sleep through the speeches, I’ll watch her while you address the general membership.”

Since Sunnie had come into his life, they had established a truce of sorts, but old habits died hard. He didn’t believe for a minute Abby was willingly helping him to win the office they both sought. But neither did he believe she would do something underhanded like wake the baby in the middle of his speech. In all of their years of competing against each other, neither of them had ever resorted to sabotage to come out on top.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” She put the baby wipes and powder back into the diaper bag. “But don’t think I’m doing it to help you with this election or that I won’t take great pleasure in beating the socks off of you when the results are announced at the Christmas Ball.”

More comfortable with the return of the rivalry they’d shared for as long as he could remember, he smiled. “Of course not. You’re doing it for—”

“Sunnie,” she said, picking up her purse and the diaper bag.

Grinning, Brad took hold of the baby carrier’s handle, then put his hand to the small of Abby’s back to guide her toward the coat room door. “Ready to go in there and listen to the best wrap-up speech you’ve ever heard?”

“In your dreams, Price,” she said, preceding him out the door and into the hall. “I know you’ve always been a windbag, but you would have to produce a Texas tornado to impress me.”

Walking toward the assembly room, he laughed. “Then you had better prepare yourself, Ms. Langley, because you’re about to be blown away.”

Seated at the table with all of the candidates running for the various club offices, Abby checked on Sunnie napping peacefully in the baby carrier on the chair between her and Brad. Satisfied the infant would sleep through at least the majority of the speeches, Abby looked around the assembly of Texas Cattleman’s Club members.

Up until seven months ago, the TCC had been an exclusively male organization with no thoughts to making it open to women. But she had broken through the glass ceiling and become the first female member in the club’s long history.

Unfortunately, the invitation to join had not been because of what she could bring to the club, but due to her last name. Founded by her late husband’s great-great-great grandfather, Tex Langley, over a hundred years ago, the TCC had always boasted a member of the Langley family in its ranks. But with Richard’s death a year ago, it had been the first time since the organization’s inception that a Langley had not been listed on the club’s membership roster. She had a little known bylaw requiring Langley representation within the club to thank for her admittance.

She sighed, then squared her shoulders and sat up a little straighter. It didn’t matter what the reason was that had gained her membership in the TCC; she’d blazed a trail. Now she fully intended to see that other women were considered for entry into the prestigious ranks just as soon as she became the new club president. She couldn’t think of a more fitting way to open the new clubhouse she was sure the members were going to vote to build than to have a membership roster with the names of many of the women who had supported the Texas Cattleman’s Club throughout the years.

When her name was announced as the next speaker, she checked on Sunnie one last time before walking up to the podium to outline her agenda. Looking out over the room, she could tell that the older members were less than pleased to have her in their ranks, let alone see her running for the high office. But that was just too bad. It was time they joined the twenty-first century and realized that a woman was just as capable of getting things accomplished as any man.

After going over each point in her plan for the future of the TCC, she ended her speech with a mention of her pet project. “The building committee has hired an architect and presented his plans for a new clubhouse. It is my sincere hope that you vote to move forward with this project to build a new home for our club and the exciting new era we are entering into. In closing, I ask that you all consider what I’ve said here today and base your vote on what I can bring to the Texas Cattleman’s Club presidency, not on my gender or my last name. Thank you, and I look forward to serving as the next president of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.” As she walked back to the table to take her seat, she received a rousing ovation from some of the club’s newer members and a grudging nod of respect from a couple of the older ones.

She was confident that she had done all she could do and represented the Langleys, as well as her gender, to the best of her ability. Now it would be up to the members to decide what direction they wanted the TCC to take when the actual voting took place tomorrow.

“Top that, Price,” she said, throwing down a challenge to her lifelong rival.

His hazel eyes twinkled as he rose to his feet and prepared to walk up to the front of the room. “Piece of cake, darlin’.”

She wasn’t fooled by his use of the endearment. Like most Texas men, Bradford Price called all women “darlin’.” What she couldn’t understand was why it sent a tiny little shiver coursing throughout her body.

Deciding it was best to ignore her reaction, she concentrated on Brad delivering his speech. She had to admit he was an engaging speaker and had a lot of good ideas—some of them paralleling her own. But that didn’t mean she was ready to concede.

For as long as she could remember she and Brad Price had been pitted against each other in one competition or another. Sometimes he won, other times she came out on top. But the rivalry was ever present and at times quite fierce.

Abby couldn’t help but smile as she remembered some of the contests they’d found themselves embroiled in. Their game of one-upsmanship had started in the first grade, when they worked to see who would be ranked higher on the honor roll at the end of each term. In middle school, they had competed to represent their class on the student council. By the time they reached high school, they were in an all-out race to see which one of them would be at the top of their graduating class. That particular competition had turned out to be a draw, and they ended up sharing the honor of being co-valedictorians.

Through it all, they had goaded, teased and thrown out challenges, and although their rivalry had never become a cutthroat battle, they hadn’t been friends, either. That was why, earlier in the coat room when Brad had shown such genuine concern and compassion, he had thrown her off guard. Maybe that was the reason she had felt compelled to tell him about her infertility.

She took a deep breath. Her inability to bear a child wasn’t something she discussed freely, and she couldn’t believe that she had opened up to him about it. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to tell some of her close friends. Why had she shared one of her most painful secrets with him?

As she pondered her uncharacteristic behavior, Sunnie began to squirm within the confines of the baby carrier, and Abby knew she was about to wake up. If the infant’s whimpering was any indication, she was working up a lusty cry. Before they disrupted the rest of Brad’s speech, Abby grabbed the diaper bag and her purse, then picked up the baby from the carrier and walked to the double doors at the back of the room.

They hadn’t been out in the main hall more than a few minutes when Brad—baby carrier in hand—and the other men running for the board joined them. “After the vote tomorrow, all we have to do is wait until the Christmas Ball to see who wins,” he said, setting the carrier on the floor beside them.

“We’re done for the day?” she asked, placing a pacifier to Sunnie’s eager lips.

Brad nodded. “It’s a good thing, too. I think I need to take this little lady home and give her a bottle before we both crash for the afternoon.”

“Have you considered hiring a nanny?” Abby asked, patting the baby’s back as she swayed from side to side in an effort to keep Sunnie calm.

“I don’t intend to hire anyone to take care of Sunnie,” he said, stubbornly shaking his head. “I took on the responsibility of raising her and that’s what I fully intend to do. I’m not handing her care over to someone else, other than an occasional night out or a business meeting.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she felt compelled to ask, “How on earth are you going to manage taking care of her for the next couple of weeks without your housekeeper being around to advise you?” She hoped he was better at feeding a baby than he was at changing diapers.

Abby watched him run his hand through his thick, dark brown hair. She could tell he was a bit uneasy about being solely responsible for Sunnie’s care. “I’ll do my best, and if I run into something I can’t handle, I’ll call my best friend Zeke Travers’ wife, Sheila, or my sister, Sadie, for advice,” he said decisively. “Sheila’s a nurse and took care of Sunnie until I got custody. I’m sure if needed, one of them would be willing to come over and show me what to do.” He smiled. “By the way, thank you for watching her while I finished my speech. I really appreciate it.”

“I didn’t mind at all.” Setting the diaper bag on the floor, Abby knelt to place Sunnie in the carrier, then secured the straps and tucked a blanket in around her. “My ranch isn’t far from your house. If you can’t get hold of Sheila or Sadie, you can always give me a call and I’ll try to answer whatever questions you might have.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said seriously.

When she stood up, they stared at each other for several long moments as they both realized the other candidates had left and they were alone.

He suddenly gave her a lopsided grin. “Have you looked up?”

“No,” she answered slowly. “Should I?”

He pointed to something hanging from one of the heavy beams on the ceiling. “You’re standing under the mistletoe.”

“I hadn’t….” her breath caught when he stepped forward and put his arms around her waist “.noticed.…” Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her?

“I have to,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s a tradition.”

Before she had the chance to remind him that they were opponents and that she wasn’t interested in observing that particular custom with him or anyone else, his mouth settled over hers in a kiss so gentle it left her speechless. Firm and warm, his lips caressed hers with a mastery that confirmed all the rumors she had heard about him being a ladies’ man. No man kissed that way without having one of two things—either a natural sense of what pleased a woman or a wealth of experience. Abby suspected that Bradford Price had an abundance of both.

Feeling as if her legs were about to fold beneath her, she reached up to put her hands on his wide shoulders. The solid strength she felt beneath the fabric of his black Armani jacket sent her heart racing and did nothing to help steady her wobbly knees. But when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her more fully against him, her legs failed her completely and she sagged against him.

Thankfully Sunnie chose that moment to spit out her pacifier and wail at the top of her little lungs, effectively bringing Abby out of the spell Brad had put her under. Leaning back, she quickly looked around to see if anyone had been watching them. She was relieved to find that the hall was empty.

“I … need to … get my coat,” she said, feeling as if the oxygen had been sucked from the room. “Sheila and I have… some shopping to do for the party…. at the women’s shelter.”

“Yeah, I should get Sunnie home for a bottle and a nap.” To her extreme displeasure, Brad didn’t act as if he had been affected one darned bit by the kiss.

He stuck his hand out and without thinking, Abby reached out to shake it. The moment their palms touched, a warm tingling sensation streaked up her arm. She quickly drew back.

“May the best man—”

“Or woman,” she automatically corrected him.

Shaking his head, he gave her that knowing grin of his—the one that never failed to make her want to bop him. “I suppose it won’t hurt for you to hang on to that little dream until it’s announced that I’ve won.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Price. I most certainly will,” she said, with renewed determination. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I win.”

“We’ll see about that, Langley.” He picked up the baby carrier and diaper bag, then turned toward the exit. “If I were you I wouldn’t start polishing your gavel just yet.”

“I could say the same thing about you and your presidential gavel,” she shot back.

His deep laughter as he walked down the hall and out of sight sent a wave of anger coursing through her. What on earth had gotten into her? Why had she let him kiss her? And why was she standing there like a complete ninny, watching him leave?

Unable to understand her atypical behavior, Abby started toward the coatroom. She wished she had the answers to why she’d acted so out of character, but at the moment nothing came to mind—other than she might have temporarily lost her mind.

Shaking her head, she pulled on her coat and walked to her car. She wasn’t certain who she was more angry with, him for being so blasted arrogant or herself for letting him get away with it.

But one thing was crystal clear. Nothing like that was going to happen again. Aside from the fact that she wasn’t interested in being kissed by any man, she was far more comfortable dealing with Bradford Price her lifelong opponent than she would ever be with Brad Price—arguably the best kisser in southwest Texas.

Two

“Zeke, is Sheila at home?” Brad asked, as soon as his best friend answered the phone.

“Hey man, how are things going?” Zeke Travers asked cheerfully.

Brad tried to rub away the tension building at the back of his neck. “At the moment, not good.”

“I can tell.” Zeke laughed. “It sounds like Sunnie is throwing one grand and glorious fit. Where’s Juanita?”

“Out of town and—”

“Uh-oh, you’re on your own with the baby,” Zeke finished for him.

“Yeah and she won’t stop crying,” Brad said, wondering how something as small as a baby could make so much noise. He was pretty sure her wailing had the dogs barking in downtown Royal. “I was hoping Sheila might have an idea of what could be wrong with her.”

“Sorry, man. Sheila went with Abby Langley to do some shopping for the Christmas party they’re throwing next week for the kids at the women’s shelter over in Somerset.” His friend paused. “Do you think Sunnie might be hungry? When Sheila took care of her, I noticed that Sunnie was pretty short on patience when she wanted a bottle.”

“It hasn’t been that long since I fed her, and everything was fine up until about ten minutes ago,” Brad said miserably. “That’s when she started crying, and she won’t stop.”

“Maybe she needs her diaper changed,” Zeke suggested, sounding as mystified as Brad felt.

“I just put a new one on her.” Brad walked over to the baby swing, where his niece sat screaming at the top of her lungs. “I’ve tried rocking her, holding her to my shoulder and walking the floor with her. Nothing seems to help. She normally likes her swing, but that isn’t cutting it with her this evening, either.”

“Man, I don’t know what to tell you.” Zeke paused. “Hang on a minute. Abby’s car just pulled into the driveway. Let me fill Sheila in on what’s going on and then have her call you back.”

“Thanks, Zeke. I owe you one,” Brad said, ending the call. He tossed the phone on the couch and picked up Sunnie to pace the floor with her again.

He hated having to bother Zeke and Sheila. They were newlyweds, and he was pretty sure they had more pleasurable things to do in the evenings than give him advice on how to care for a baby. But he was at his wit’s end and man enough to admit that he needed help.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he crooned as he patted her back and walked from one room to another. “We’ll get through this.”

If anything Sunnie’s screaming got louder and made him feel like a complete failure for the first time in his life. He had thought he was doing the right thing when he made the decision to adopt his late brother Michael’s daughter. But if today was any indication of his parenting skills, he might have been wrong. Although he had gotten the hang of diapering and feeding Sunnie, it appeared he was a complete washout at knowing what was wrong and how to calm her.

What was taking Zeke and Sheila so long to return his call? he wondered, checking his watch. It had been a good ten minutes since Zeke assured him that Sheila would call him back.

With Sunnie wailing in his ear like a banshee gone berserk, it took a moment for Brad to realize that someone was ringing the doorbell. “Thank God,” he muttered, as he rushed over to open the door. He fully expected to see Zeke and Sheila Travers standing on the other side. “I really appreciate—”

Instead of Sheila, Abigail Langley stood on the front porch with her hand raised to ring the doorbell again. Great. The last thing he needed was her witnessing yet another of his inadequacies in child care.

“I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here,” she said, as she hurried into the foyer. “But Sheila became ill while we were out shopping and asked me to stop by to check on you and Sunnie.”

Apparently he hadn’t been very good at hiding his displeasure at seeing her again. But Abby’s help was better than no help at all, he quickly decided when the baby’s screaming reached a crescendo. Explaining everything he’d tried to get Sunnie to stop crying, Brad shook his head. “Nothing works. She’ll start to wind down and look like she’s going to nod off, then she’ll open her eyes and start screaming again. If she keeps this up much longer, I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself.”

Quickly removing her coat, Abby handed it and her purse to him as she reached to take the baby. “It’s all right, angel. Help has arrived. Where’s her pacifier?”

He handed Abby the one he had been trying to get Sunnie to take. “I don’t think it will do any good. She keeps spitting it out.”

As soon as Abby placed the pacifier in the baby’s mouth and cradled her close, Sunnie’s crying began to lessen. “Do you have a rocking chair?” Abby asked.

All she had to do was walk in the door and take the baby from him and Sunnie reduced the racket she was making by a good ten decibels. “What the hell does she have that I don’t?” he muttered under his breath, as he laid Abby’s coat and purse on a bench in the hall, then led the way to the family room.

Motioning toward the new rocking chair he’d bought the day before bringing Sunnie home from Sheila and Zeke’s, Brad stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and watched as Abby seated herself and began to gently rock the baby. In no time at all Sunnie’s cries had settled to occasional whimpers and he could tell she was about to go to sleep.

“When I tried rocking her, she just screamed louder,” he said, unable to keep from feeling a bit resentful. The immediate change in the baby when Abby took her made him feel completely inept, and it annoyed him beyond words that she had been witness to it.

“I think the problem is that you’re nervous about taking care of her without help.” Abby shifted Sunnie from her shoulder to the crook of her arm. “She senses that.”

“I don’t get nervous,” he said flatly. Frowning, he stubbornly shook his head. “I might feel a little apprehensive about being solely responsible for her care, but I’m not the nervous type.”

Abby laughed softly. “Apprehension, nervousness, whatever you want to call it, I think she’s picking up on it and she’s letting you know the only way she can that it upsets her.”

Feeling a little insulted, he glared at the woman calmly rocking his niece. “So you’re saying it’s my fault she wouldn’t stop crying?”

Her indulgent smile as she shook her head had him clenching his teeth. “Not entirely. I think a big part of her problem is that she’s fighting to stay awake.”

Brad grunted. “I’d rather fight for sleep than against it.”

She nodded. “Me, too. But with each day Sunnie is becoming more alert and aware of what’s going on around her. I think she’s probably afraid she’ll miss something.”

While Abby rocked the baby, Brad went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and see if there was some of Juanita’s apple cake left. The least he could do was offer Abby cake and coffee for bringing the noise level down. When he returned to the family room, Sunnie was sound asleep.

“I don’t think we should risk waking her when you pick her up,” Abby said, her tone low.

“Good God, no.” Just the thought of another crying marathon like the one that had just ended made him cringe.

Rising from the chair, she smiled. “If you’ll tell me where the nursery is, I’ll put her to bed for you.”

He led the way up the stairs to the bedroom he’d turned into a nursery and couldn’t help but notice how natural Abby looked with a baby in her arms. If any woman was meant to mother a child, it was Abigail Langley. It bothered him to think she wasn’t going to give herself that chance.

He had come to fatherhood through adoption. She could reach motherhood that way, too. All she had to do was open herself to the possibility. But she apparently wasn’t ready to consider her options and it wasn’t his place to point out what they were.

While she put Sunnie to bed in the crib, he turned on the camera and picked up the video baby monitor to take with them. “Thank you for stopping by,” he said once they’d left the nursery and were descending the stairs. “It seems like you’ve had to come to my rescue twice today.”

She gave him a questioning look. “Since Sunnie is wearing a dry diaper, I assume you mastered that challenge?”

Nodding, he grinned. “It turned out to be a lot easier than getting her to bed for the night.” When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he asked, “Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake?”

“I… should go and let you enjoy the quiet,” she said, walking over to the bench where he had laid her coat and purse earlier. “If you have any more problems you can always call me.”

Before she had a chance to pick up her things, he placed his hand to the small of her back and ushered Abby toward the family room. “To tell you the truth, I could use the company of another adult for a little while. As you’ve seen this evening, Sunnie isn’t exactly a witty conversationalist just yet.”

“No, but you have to admit, she gets her point across,” Abby said, smiling.

“No kidding.” He rubbed the side of his head. “I’m still experiencing some ringing in my left ear.”

When they went into the family room, she sat down on the edge of the couch. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll pass on the cake and coffee. If I drink caffeine now, I’ll be up all night.”

“Would you like something else?” He walked over to turn on the gas log in the fireplace. “I think there are some soft drinks in the fridge.”

Abby shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I’d offer you something stronger, but since I don’t drink, I don’t keep it around the house.”

Brad’s sister, Sadie, had told her that he never drank anything stronger than coffee or iced tea, due to the fact that their older brother, Michael, had been an alcoholic, as well as a drug addict. It had ultimately led to the man’s death when, in a drug and alcohol induced haze, he’d crashed through a guardrail and driven over the side of a cliff.

“I’m not much of a drinker, either,” she admitted. “I might have an occasional glass of wine with dinner, but that’s about it.”

Brad sank into the big, overstuffed armchair flanking the couch. “Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against drinking in moderation. It’s when a person doesn’t know when to quit that it becomes a problem.”

“Like it did for your brother?” she asked.

He nodded. “Mike had a rebellious streak a mile wide and would do anything he could think of to humiliate our dad. What better way to do it than to become the town drunk?”

She could tell Brad resented the fact that his brother had gone out of his way to humiliate the Price family. She could sympathize. In her senior year in high school she had suffered through her own family’s scandal, and knowing they were the subject of intense gossip and speculation had been one of the worst times in her life.

“A lot of kids go through a reckless stage,” she offered gently. “I’m sure Michael never meant for it to become the huge problem that it did for him.”

“You’re probably right. Unfortunately, Mike never seemed to be able to come out of that phase and it just got worse when Dad disowned him.”

Two years older than she and Brad, all she could remember about Michael Price was that he had a reputation for partying hard and raising hell. “Was your dad disowning him the reason he left Royal?”

“Dad had reached the end of his rope,” Brad said, nodding. “He ordered Mike out of the house and rather than stick around to see how Dad felt once he had cooled down, Mike took off. The first news we had of him was eight months ago when we were notified that he’d been killed.”

“Michael’s death must have broken your father’s heart,” she said, unable to imagine the degree of desperation Brad’s father had to have reached to take such a drastic stand. To lose his son without making amends had to have been crushing.

“I’m sure it affected him more than he let show.” Raising one dark eyebrow, Brad gave her a pointed look. “But don’t get the idea that Robert Price would have handled it any other way. You know how he is about appearances. Sadie wouldn’t have made the decision to move to Houston when she got pregnant with the twins if she hadn’t been worried about our father’s disapproval.”

Abby had been in Seattle at the time, working at the web development company she and one of her college friends had started right after graduation. It wasn’t until she sold her interest in the highly successful venture and moved back to Royal to marry Richard that she learned the story behind Sadie’s move.

“I’m glad she decided to return to Royal,” Abby said sincerely. “If she hadn’t, she and Rick might not have run into each other.”

Brad’s sister had become pregnant after one night with Rick Pruitt, just before the dashing Marine had been deployed to the Middle East. Losing touch, it wasn’t until some three years later that they were reunited when they ran into each other at the TCC clubhouse. Now they were happily married, raising their adorable two-year-old twin daughters and looking forward to a bright future together.

“Dad mellowed over the years and was pleased about her and the girls moving back, so it all worked out for the best.” Brad glanced at the video monitor he still held. “Do you think Sunnie will be all right? She cried awfully hard there for a while.”

“Babies do that.” Abby couldn’t help but be a bit amused. She had never seen Brad Price look more unsure of himself, and she found it oddly fascinating. “I think she’ll be fine, Brad. Really.”

“I hope that’s the case,” he said, placing the monitor on the end table beside his chair.

“This afternoon you mentioned that you don’t intend to hire a nanny,” she said, when he glanced at the monitor again as if needing to reassure himself that the baby was all right. “Having help might give you a bit more peace of mind about caring for her.”

“I’m not entirely certain that handing Sunnie’s care over to someone else would be in her best interest,” he said, surprising her. His expression told her that he had given the matter a considerable amount of thought.

“You’re going to try to do this on your own?” She hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous, but men with the kind of fortune Bradford Price had amassed hired help to take care of their children, even if they were married.

“Yes, I am,” he answered decisively. He sat forward, propping his forearms on his knees, and stared down at his hands as if trying to put his reasoning into words. “This isn’t about me or my comfort. This is about Sunnie. In her short little life, she’s been abandoned by her mother, used as a pawn in a blackmail scheme and passed from one stranger to another. She hasn’t really had the chance to bond with anyone.” His tone took on a hard edge. “She deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”

Abby couldn’t have agreed more. Sunnie had been the result of Michael Price’s only night with an unscrupulous woman who, after giving birth, had tried using her infant daughter at the request of a dangerous drug lord to extort money from the Price family. They had sent blackmail notes to Brad, as well as a few other TCC members, telling each of them they were the father in an effort to get as much money as they could. He had correctly assumed they’d be too embarrassed to reveal to each other that they were being blackmailed. But when Brad and the other men who had received notes refused to pay, the career criminal had given up on his scheme and the mother abandoned the baby on the doorstep of the club with a note pinned to her blanket, declaring Brad was Sunnie’s father. A DNA test proved that there was indeed a genetic link, but when Zeke Travers tracked down the baby’s mother, she admitted that it was Michael Price and not Brad who had fathered Sunnie. Whether it was due to a sense of obligation to his late brother or the fact that Sunnie had captured his heart, Brad had taken responsibility for her and started the adoption process.

“I applaud your dedication,” she said, choosing her words carefully. He was trying so hard to do the right thing for Sunnie, she certainly didn’t want to discourage him. “But don’t you think it would be wise to have a little help? At least until you become more accustomed to caring for her by yourself?”

“She’s had so many people come and go in her life, I want her to know that I’m not just another person taking care of her until the next one comes along.” He shrugged. “I want her to know early on that I’m always going to be here for her. That’s why I’m working from home for the next six months.”

“You’re serious,” she said softly, in total awe of the lengths he was willing to go to for the baby girl.

“Very. My assistant is running the day to day operation at the firm and forwarding anything she can’t handle through email and faxes. After Sunnie’s first birthday, I’ll see how things are going and make my decision whether to continue working from home or go back into the office.”

Abby had gained a newfound respect for Brad when she heard he was taking on the responsibility of raising Sunnie as his own, but that admiration had just gone up a good ten notches. She knew a lot of men with his wealth and position in the business community who wouldn’t even consider going to such lengths for their own children, let alone a niece or nephew they were adopting.

The contrast between Bradford Price, the playboy financial genius, and Brad Price, the dedicated new daddy, was disconcerting and Abby needed time to assimilate and understand the two sides of his personality. It had been much easier to view him as her lifelong rival and fierce opponent in the race for the TCC presidency than it was to see him as the down-to-earth, caring man she had seen over the course of the day.

Needing to put distance between them, she made a show of checking her watch as she rose from the couch. “I should go. I have to get up early tomorrow to help Summer Franklin with the charity drive.”

“In other words, you’re going to put those god-awful pink flamingos in some poor unsuspecting soul’s front yard, so he’ll have to donate money to the Helping Hands Women’s Shelter to get rid of them,” Brad said, getting up to walk her to the door.

“It’s for a good cause,” Abby defended.

“I’m not saying it isn’t.” Brad laughed. “But pink flamingos? Seriously, couldn’t they come up with something a lot more attractive and a little less tasteless?”

She picked up her coat and purse as they passed the bench in the hall. “If they were attractive, people might not be as eager to get rid of them and donate less.”

“I guess you have a point,” he conceded. “But do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” she asked as he took her coat from her and held it while she put it on.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “When you drive by my place, keep on going,” he said, grinning. “I’ll send in a donation just to keep from having to look at them.” Before she realized what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close for a hug. “Thank you again for helping me out with Sunnie this morning and then again this evening. I really appreciate it, darlin’.”

For some reason, the endearment most Texas men used freely when talking to a woman sent a shiver straight up her spine and the awareness she had experienced when Brad kissed her under the mistletoe came rushing back tenfold. When had the skinny kid she had always competed against developed so many muscles? And why did they feel so darned good pressed against her?

Hastily backing away from him, she walked to the door, hoping he hadn’t noticed the fact that she had clung to him a little longer than was required for an embrace of appreciation. “If it gives you any measure of comfort, I can guarantee the pink flamingos won’t be on your lawn tomorrow morning when you get up.”

Grinning, he slipped his hands up to his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “That’s good to know.”

Stepping out onto the porch, she couldn’t resist turning back for one parting shot. “But don’t get too complacent, Price. Your day will come when you least expect it.”

What was wrong with her? she wondered, as she walked to her car. Why after all these years was she suddenly noticing Brad’s impressive muscles? How could it be that she felt more secure with his arms around her than she had in very long time? Had it been so long since she had been held by a man that even Bradford Price could make her feel breathless and cause her pulse to speed up?

“You’ve lost your mind, girlfriend,” she muttered to herself as she steered her luxury SUV around the circular drive and out onto the street.

She wasn’t looking to be held by any man, let alone a playboy like Bradford Price. With his piercing hazel eyes and dark good looks, he represented trouble with a great big capital T and she wanted no part of it.

Besides, after experiencing the pain of losing her husband, she wasn’t about to give her heart to another man and put herself in the position to go through something like that again. She was a survivor and it was only through working for various charities that she had kept herself going after the many disappointments of the past year. And although she did get lonely at times, community service would have to be enough for her. It was far less dangerous to her peace of mind than the almost irresistible combination of Bradford Price, with his rock-hard biceps and movie star good looks, and the most adorable baby girl Abby had ever seen.

“How much longer do you think we need to stay before it’s socially acceptable to leave?” Brad asked Zeke, as he checked his watch.

If the informal cocktail party he was attending hadn’t been in honor of the candidates for the various club offices, he would have declined the invitation. Instead, he had sipped on his club soda, engaged in the obligatory mingling with all of the other guests and counted the minutes until he could politely thank the election committee chairman, Travis Whelan, and his wife, Natalie, for hosting the party and leave.

“What’s the rush?” Zeke asked, looking puzzled. “I thought you’d be glad to have an evening off from your child-care duties. After all, you’ve been on your own with Sunnie now for the past week.”

Brad shrugged. “Sunnie isn’t the easiest baby to get to sleep, and I’m pretty sure my sister will be ready to throw me to the coyotes by the time I get back.”

“What happened to Bad Brad, the heartthrob of every sorority sister on the UT campus?” Zeke laughed. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to ruin your reputation as a world-class player.”

“The reports of my past conquests are greatly exaggerated,” Brad said, grinning. “If you’ll remember, I was the one sitting in our dorm room studying while you and Chris Richards were out on the town.”

“Yeah, maybe once,” Zeke shot back, his smile wide. “If you’ll remember, Chris Richards and I were usually with you in those days and doing anything but studying.”

As he and his best friend stood there reminiscing about their college days and their friend, Chris, another member of the TCC, Brad noticed Abby walk through the Whelans’ front door. Wearing a pair of black slacks, a matching jacket and a pink silk blouse, she was utterly stunning. To his amazement, the sight of her robbed him of breath.

Maybe Zeke was right about his needing a night out, Brad decided, forcing himself not to stare. If the sight of his lifelong nemesis peaked his interest like this, then he was in definite need of some female companionship.

“Looks like Sheila’s trying to get my attention,” Zeke said, nodding toward his wife. “I’ll bet she’s not feeling well again and wants to go home.”

“Has she seen a doctor?” Brad asked, concerned for the woman who would soon be Sunnie’s godmother. He couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather have for the baby’s godparents than the Traverses. Brad knew for certain that if anything happened to him, they would see that Sunnie was loved and cared for.

“Not yet,” Zeke said, looking worried. “She has an appointment tomorrow.” He placed his champagne glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow at our meeting with the commissioner.”

“Tell Sheila I hope she’s feeling better soon,” Brad said, as his friend started across the room toward his wife.

“I’m worried about Sheila,” Abby said, walking over to him.

“So is Zeke, but I’m sure she’ll be all right,” Brad said, turning his attention to the woman beside him. “You look very nice this evening.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Really?”

Her question surprised him. “I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it.”

“In that case, thank you,” she said, taking a sip of the drink she held.

“Why would you think I’m not sincere?” he asked, frowning.

“You have to ask?” Her laughter caused an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. “I’m not used to something like that from you, Price. Veiled insults and jokes at my expense—yes. Compliments—no.”

Brad started to deny her claim, but with sudden clarity, he realized she was right. When she had joined the TCC, he had made comments and jokes about her that, looking back, he wasn’t overly proud of. It was no wonder she didn’t believe him when he made a favorable remark.

“I believe an apology is in order,” he said, clearing his throat.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I owe you an apology, Price,” she said incredulously. “Of all the arrogant—”

“Hush.” Setting his drink on a nearby table, Brad took her by the elbow and led her out into the Whelans’ enclosed courtyard before she drew too much attention to them. If he was going to have to eat crow, he didn’t particularly want witnesses.

“What are you up to now, Price?” she demanded.

When they were safely out of earshot of anyone eavesdropping, he placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from walking away. “If you’ll stop jumping to conclusions and let me finish, I would like to tell you that my behavior the past several months has been out of line and uncalled for.” He could tell by the widening of her vibrant blue eyes that it was the last thing she expected from him. “I’m sorry for that, Abby.”

She shook her head. “I … um … don’t know what to say.”

“You could start by telling me you accept my apology.” He shrugged. “But that’s up to you.”

“Y-yes …” She cleared her throat. “I accept.”

“Good.” He smiled. “Now that we have that out of the way, I want you to know that I meant what I said.” He slowly slid his palms down her arms until he caught her hands in his, then stepped back and took in the sight of her. “You really do look incredible, Abby.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.

From the muted landscape lighting, he wasn’t certain, but it looked as if she blushed. Fascinating. For reasons he didn’t fully understand, Brad pulled her into his arms and held her close.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked, starting to pull away from him.

“I’m giving you a friendly hug to go along with my apology,” he said, enjoying the feel of her lithe body pressed to his a little more than he anticipated. He felt a tiny shiver course through her and instinctively knew it had nothing to do with her being cold.

“When have we ever been friends?” she asked.

Releasing her, Brad stepped back. “Maybe it’s about time to put this rivalry behind us and declare a truce.”

She looked suspicious. “Why now after all these years?”

He shrugged. “Once I become the president of the TCC it would be nice to see unity restored to the club.”

“Oh, really? You ‘re going to win the presidency?” She laughed as she turned to walk back into the house. “I knew there had to be an underlying motive to your sudden generosity.”

After watching her go inside, Brad stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and stared up at the clear night sky. What the hell had gotten into him?

Lately, it seemed that he seized every opportunity to touch Abby, to hold her to him. It had started the other day at the clubhouse when she had helped him change Sunnie’s diaper. He’d hugged her to offer his comfort when she told him about her inability to have children. But that didn’t explain his kissing her under the mistletoe. And later that evening when she stopped by to help him get Sunnie to stop crying, he had told himself he hugged her out of gratitude. But the truth was, a simple thank-you would have sufficed.

Brad shook his head as he rejoined the party. There was a simple explanation for his actions and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was. He was a healthy male with a healthy appetite for the ladies. Since taking on the responsibility of his niece, he had curtailed his pursuit of female companionship, and it was only natural that he would gravitate toward Abby, since she was the only single female he’d had contact with in the past few weeks.

Satisfied that he had determined the reason for his uncharacteristic actions, Brad found the host and hostess, thanked them for the party and headed for the door. He would have to ask his sister to babysit again some evening in the near future in order for him to have a night out. Until then, he’d just have to make sure he steered clear of Abigail Langley.

Three

Brad smiled down at his niece as he placed the baby carrier in the shopping cart. “So far, so good, baby girl. You got a clean bill of health from the pediatrician and slept through the meeting with the commissioners from the football league. Now all we have to do is pick up more formula and diapers for you, a couple of frozen pizzas for me, as well as some stain remover for the clothing you’ve christened when you burp. Then we should be good to go home and crash.”

After confirmation from the doctor today that Sunnie was perfectly healthy, Brad was doing his best to take whatever came along in stride and not worry so much about the things he couldn’t change. It was a fact of life—babies cried. A lot. Sometimes there were tears, sometimes not. He had a strong suspicion that most times, Sunnie screamed at the top of her lungs just to keep him on his toes. But she had been an absolute angel this afternoon when he, Zeke and Chris Richards met with the minor-league football commissioner to work out the final details for the semipro team they were going to buy.

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