Amazing Grace (Hearts At War Book 3) Page 11

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Chapter 1

  Three months later…

  “Mason, people usually smile during moments like this.”

  Mason Courage turned his gaze to the Cajun Rage’s general manager and cocked a brow.

  “Steven, that is him smiling,” Michael Babineaux said, sitting behind his large desk and chuckling at his own remark.

  Mason returned his gaze to the team’s owner, trying to process what the two men were telling him—or rather, what they had offered.

  Head coach of the Cajun Rage.

  It still seemed surreal.

  “I’m flattered by the offer, really. But what about Thibodeault? He still has a few seasons left in him.”

  Doesn’t he?

  Based on the shared look between the two men, Mason had his answer.

  “That heart attack hit him hard, and was more serious than we all anticipated,” Steven Garey said. “We wanted to wait until we made your promotion official, but it looks like Thibodeault will be heading toward early retirement.”

  Shit.

  The realization that the team’s current head coach wouldn’t return to his position filled him with a sense of loss he hadn’t expected. For all of Guy Thibodeault’s surliness, he was a great hockey coach, and had been an even better mentor these past three years. Mason was certain the team would feel the loss.

  “It’s been clear for some time now that Guy wasn’t up to leading a championship team,” Michael said. “It’s time we had the right guy for the job. And that guy’s you.”

  “What are you talking about? Coach Thibodeault is the one who got us here. Without him, we wouldn’t have won the Cup this season.”

  “Technically, without Zim’s save on the ice in game seven, we wouldn’t have won. Now, we’re New Orleans’ new local stars.”

  Mason frowned at him. He had nothing against Michael. He just didn’t care too much for the old-money type that chose to be hands-off only when it suited them. They had all sacrificed to get this win. Hell, there was a big chance that Thibodeault’s heart attack was largely due to the stress they had put themselves under.

  “Look, Mason, we’re not taking anything away from Thibodeault,” Steven said, pushing away from the desk he had been leaning against. “He’s been good for the team, but we’ve been watching you. We see how you manage the team. More importantly, we’ve noticed how they respond to you. It’s only right that you take on the head coach position permanently.”

  Mason stared at the men, not sure yet what to say. This was exactly what he had been looking forward to since he had joined the Cajun Rage as an assistant coach three years ago. Many assistant coaches looked forward to this moment. He had just never expected the moment to come so soon.

  “If you need more time to think about it—”

  “I don’t,” Mason said abruptly. Soon or not, he had no intention of turning the job down. “If Thibodeault is retiring, then I’d be honored to take over for him.”

  “Excellent,” Steven said. “This is turning out to be a big year for us, Mason. Don’t let us down.”

  Mason rose to his feet. “When have I ever?”

  He had come a long way from the hotheaded agitator he had once been as a player in the league. A wife and two young kids had a way of taming any bad boy—at least, they had for him.

  “We know this is the off-season and you might have plans with your family this summer,” Steven said, “but leave some room on your schedule to help vet a replacement assistant coach.”

  “Sure. Do you have anyone in mind?”

  “We’re looking at a few candidates, but haven’t arranged anything yet. Besides, we want to first announce these changes to the team before we make Thibodeault’s retirement public.”

  “Any idea when that will be?” Mason asked. Their players knew about his interim position as head coach, and many had no issue with it. But how would they take learning the position would now be permanent?

  “As we speak, Harlan is drafting a statement on Thibodeault’s behalf,” Steven said. “We have a press conference scheduled at the end of this week to make an official announcement. We’ll use that to also announce your promotion.”

  Lucky me.

  He hated talking to the press.

  “After the press conference, we expect planning for next season to begin sooner than later,” Michael added. “Winning the Cup was big for us, but it was just the beginning. We have a bigger season ahead of us.”

  Mason inclined his head and left the office. If Michael Babineaux knew him at all, he wouldn’t have wasted his time with that comment. Mason was already thinking about the scouting reports and training videos he planned to review for next season.

  He made it to his office, but before he could settle himself behind his desk, his personal assistant Doug Cullen rushed inside. He had the forethought to shut the door behind him, but it was the pallor on his narrow face that made the muscles on Mason’s shoulders bunch.

  “What is it, Doug?”

  “You haven’t seen it, have you?”

  “Seen what? Don’t tell me there’s another video of Archer out there.”

  Mason gritted his teeth and braced himself. For all their talent and heart, some of the players couldn’t seem to keep themselves out of the media.

  “Um…it’s a little more serious than that,” Doug said, shifting on his feet. The lack of color on his face made his red hair that more pronounced.

  “Spit it out, Doug,” Mason snapped. “I’m not a mind reader.”

  “Well…uh…I should probably just show you.”

  Doug pulled out his cell phone and fiddled with it before handing it to him. Mason took the phone, his brow pulling into a deeper frown. For a second, it took him a moment to recognize the photo of him and his wife on their wedding day. It was the only photo of their very private wedding that had been released to the media eight years ago, in order to satisfy the vultures and put an end to the harassment.

  But it wasn’t the fact that the photo had resurfaced these many years later that bothered him. It was the alteration to it that brought his blood to a slow boil. The image included an altered rip in the center, effectively tearing the photo of them in two.

  The headline read: BREAKING—America’s Beauty Queen calls it quits after ten years with Hockey’s Former Bad Boy.

  Mason’s heart began to beat in a rapid tempo as he continued to read the brief article.

  Former beauty queen Juliette Bennett has petitioned for a divorce from New Orleans’ Cajun Rage coach Mason Courage. The appeal comes after the Rajun’s shocking championship win against the New York Spartans.

  Mason reread the article, wanting to believe this was just internet gossip—a prank, even—but the news source was credible. Not to mention the extreme care he and Jules took to stay out of the media. No reputable news source would bother reporting something that didn’t have some semblance of truth behind it.

  And in the pit of his twisting gut, Mason knew it was true. He and Jules had been having problems for some weeks now, but he never believed it had gotten this bad.

  “When was this posted?” Mason asked, his eyes still glued to the small screen.

  “A few minutes ago,” Doug said. “My roommate texted it to me. It’s not trending yet, but…um…you might want to stay off social media.”

  Mason glared at him. “Why?”

  Doug shifted again, then swallowed hard. Just then, an alert sounded on the cell phone in his hand, and Mason glanced down at the text message that filled the screen.

  You see this???

  Attached to the message was a picture of his wife with a dark-haired man at a restaurant. She was dressed beautifully, and her straight dark hair was pulled over to one side of her bare shoulders. She was smiling at the man sitting across from her at the table, her full lips frozen in a sexy grin. It was obvious she didn’t know the picture was being taken. If she had, he wondered if she would ha
ve smiled at that man that way.

  Mason tried not to let his thoughts jump to conclusions, but it was damn near impossible not to. “Who the hell is Tank?” Mason asked, turning the phone to Doug’s direction. “And where the hell did he get this picture?”

  “That’s my roomie.” Doug’s pale green eyes darted toward the phone, and he grimaced. “And that pic is all over the internet.”

  Another alert rang. Mason’s grip around the thin phone became unbearably tight as he read the next message.

  Is this really her new boo?? What do you know about this?

  None of the counting or breathing techniques he had adopted over the years could stop the boiling rage that began to surface. His gaze remained glued on the damn photo, and a sudden heat rose in the back of his neck. It travelled up to his temple until he thought he would explode. The knowledge that the end of his world was reduced to internet gossip drove him over the edge.

  “Uh, Mason, can I have—”

  Before he could stop himself, Mason threw the phone across the room. It slammed against the wall and split in two.

  “—my phone back.”

  Mason cursed and ran his fingers through his hair. The short burst of anger didn’t help lessen his outrage any.

  Doug sighed and went to pick up what was left of the broken phone. “Never mind. I guess I didn’t need a phone.”

  Mason ran his fingers through his hair again. “Sorry. Get yourself a new one. Charge it to my account.”

  “Oh, you bet I will,” Doug muttered. He straightened and turned back to face him. “About what’s been posted…?”

  Mason shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doug, do me a favor.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get the hell out.”

  Doug quietly backed out of the office. Mason waited until the door shut before he sank into the seat behind his desk. He tried to rein in his unruly temper so he could think clearly. He needed to get himself under control if he was going to confront his wife and figure out what the hell was going on.

  None of this made sense. They had their problems, sure. What marriage didn’t? But the woman he had married eight years ago wouldn’t just break up their family.

  She wouldn’t.

  Mason glanced over at the family photo that hung on his wall. It felt like another lifetime ago. They had taken it three years ago, right before the Cajun Rage had started its first season. He remembered this particular photo had been one of the few taken at the start of their shoot. They had been trying to get their then five-year-old son and eighteen-month-old daughter to sit still long enough for the photo. The photographer had decided to continue shooting while they had been trying to wrangle a smile from Jeremy and keep Madison from crawling out of the shot.

  After a series of nice, professionally posed shots, it was this silly candid photo that Jules had selected to have framed for his new office.

  Something to look at whenever you forget to smile, she had said.

  Mason fixed his gaze on his wife in the photo, her honey brown skin accentuating the golden flecks in her striking almond-slanted eyes. The ripples of her dark stylishly curled hair hung pass her shoulders and framed her slender face. She was a beauty for sure, but she was so much more than that. She was loving, selfless, and as fierce as she was gentle. Especially when it came to the people she loved or the things she cared about.

  That’s why none of this made sense to him. The woman he married wouldn’t breakup their family, no matter how tough things got.

  He continued to stare at the photo. Instead of the warm feelings he had always gotten from looking at the photo, a slow panic and sense of dread began to fill him. He couldn’t lose his family.

  He wouldn’t.

  Pushing up to his feet, Mason grabbed his keys and rushed out of the door.

  Chapter 2

  “Linda, how did this happen? This is not what I wanted.”

  Juliette Courage paced around her living room, trying her best not to completely lose her cool with her lawyer.

  “This didn’t come from my office, Jules. I can assure you,” Linda Greisen said. “Some file clerk must have recognized your names. This sort of stuff is not very uncommon, and it’s no big deal, really.”

  “Yes, it is! The media’s making up all kinds of lies about us. About me.”

  Jules glanced back at the muted television screen. The mockery someone had made of their wedding photo stirred another wave of nausea through her. It was bad enough her private life was being plastered across the local news—having the most painful decision of her life being made fun of was beyond hurtful.

  “I’m sorry about that, but you know how the media is. They’ll gobble up anything that’s hot right now, and right now, your husband is a local celebrity.”

  “I don’t care. You assured me this would go quickly and quietly. You need to fix this!”

  Linda sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, but honestly, there isn’t much. It’s all just bad timing and exactly the kind of gossip the media loves to latch on to. Just give it some time and it’ll be old news soon.”

  But Jules didn’t have time.

  The distinct sound of the front door slamming shut jolted her. She whirled around as Mason’s heavy footsteps snapped against the tile floors.

  “Linda, I’ll call you later.”

  “All right, but I—”

  Jules hung up and waited as Mason made his way to the sitting room. She mentally braced herself for his anger, which she knew would be there, even if he tried to hide it. Mason didn’t like surprises, and this was certainly not how she had wanted him to find out.

  Jules folded her hands in front of her, her heart thumping in her chest as she waited. Her anticipation wrestled with her anxiety. In that moment, she was acutely aware of every tremor running down her arms, every breath that escaped her constricted lungs. She felt as she was preparing herself for battle. In this case, she was.

  Mason strode into the spacious room then stopped. His piercing gaze locked on her, and behind his marine-blue eyes were a steely calm she’d seen before. Even the silk strands of his dark brown hair were neatly in place, highlighting the coolness of his composed demeanor. He didn’t fool her for a second as he continued to regard her for what seemed like an eternity until she couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

  “Mason, this is not how I wanted you to find out.”

  The muscles in his jaw flexed. “How exactly did you want to tell me you were going to break up our family?”

  Jules winced inwardly. “That’s not what I wanted either.”

  Yet that’s exactly what she was doing…

  “Then what do you want, Jules?”

  He propped himself on the armrest of the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. His biceps bulged beneath his suit, creating a noticeable outline and she couldn’t help but remember the nights when those arms had curved around her waist and held her close. She missed those nights.

  “You’ve got my full attention now. Isn’t that what your little stunt was about?”

  Jules tightened her lips together at his condescending remark. Did he really think she would file for divorce just to get him to pay attention to her? She hated that he would even think that.

  Even more than that, she hated that he could be right.

  Folding her arms under her breasts, she regarded him just as coolly. “Mason, I didn’t do this to get your attention, though it’s nice to see that you remember you have a wife and family at home.”

  His glare was laser sharp. He was furious.

  “If you didn’t do this to break up our family, if you didn’t do it to grab my attention, then what the hell is this all about? What anniversary or birthday did I miss this time that has you so pissed at me? What the hell did I do that you’d go this far to hurt me? Tell me.”

  She stared at him closely, realizing his stoic rigidity wasn’t because he was trying to keep his temper in check but because he was hurting.

 
A lump formed in her throat, and Jules glanced away. She didn’t want to hurt him. She just wanted them to be like they once were, before he had taken on the coaching position with the Cajun Rage and allowed hockey to dominate his life in a way it hadn’t before. They had drifted further apart this past year, and no amount of personal assistants or aides or arguments could change the fact that he had chosen what his priority would be.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you, Mason,” she murmured. She glanced down at her hands, and her eyes fell to the engagement ring and wedding band that had been around her finger for nearly ten years. “I’m just tired of having this argument with you. It’s clear you can’t be a husband and father to us and be a coach to your players.”

  “What are you talking about? When haven’t I been there for you and the kids?”

  “It’s the day-to-day. We almost never see you anymore, and every year it gets worse. You said this coaching position wouldn’t change how things were, but we spend more time video-chatting with you than anything. Even on the weekends, you’re not around.”

  He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe these past few weeks have been a challenge, but that’s because we were in the middle of a championship series. And we won. Now I’ve been promoted to head coach. I know you’ve never cared for hockey, but I hoped you would be a little excited about that.”

  She scoffed. She was quite the opposite. “Mason, we hardly saw you when you were just assisting. Now you’re going to be head coach, and you expect me to be happy about that? Why?”

  “Because you’re my wife and this is a big moment for me. For our family. And in case you’ve forgotten, this job is how we’re able to live in this neighborhood, in this big house, and send our kids to the best schools.”

  Jules balled her hands into fists at her sides, her temper mounting. “In case you’ve forgotten, Mason, I’m not a trophy wife. I didn’t marry you for your money, or to live in a big house in a fancy neighborhood. I would be content with half of this if that meant having you around more. I’m thrilled you’re getting what you want out of your career. Just don’t expect me to smile about it when I also see what it’s doing to our family. It’s too damn depressing.”