Chapter 22 Maddox #2
“Noted,” I say, turning back to Theo. “So, sponsor gala. Fancy food and drinks. What happened next?”
“Good transition,” he says. “Anyway, Beau and I here had never really talked more than pleasantries at any of these functions. Which is common for most of us. But in this particular case, we found ourselves standing near the bar, only the wall holding us up, as one of the servers brought around a tray of these tiny desserts.”
“Mini pavlovas,” Asher adds.
“They tasted like shit, and I made my feelings known,” Beau says.
“And I agreed,” Theo says, fully comfortable in his role right now as storyteller. “Next thing I’m learning is that Beau here is quite the baking show binger.”
“It’s good television when I’m traveling. The British one is my favorite.”
“And little did Beau know that I have wanted to learn to bake since I was a child. But no…I had to play baseball.”
I look over to Asher. “And where do you come in?”
He doesn’t make eye contact with me, carefully concentrating on filling a piping bag with icing instead.
“I was making my way to the bar when I heard these two idiots going back and forth about what was wrong with the desserts. They both knew they tasted like shit, but they couldn’t figure it out.
After overhearing them going back and forth for five minutes, I grabbed one from a passing tray to taste it for myself.
It was the vanilla. The vanilla was off.
Which I let them know before making my way back to whatever boring conversation Ethan was making us have. ”
“When he said that, our jaws went slack,” Theo continues. “But it got Beau and I talking. Turns out we both enjoyed baking, or the concept of it, but neither of us ever really dove into it.”
“Really?” I ask Beau. “Gabi said she baked as a kid. You never did with her?”
He shakes his head. “A few times. But if it was light out, I had a golf club in my hand. Or I was finding something to make into a putting green. Plus, that was her thing with Mom and Meemaw. I just reaped the rewards of fresh chocolate chip cookies.”
“Her cookies are delicious.” I really meant it as the actual cookies she makes for the bakery, but apparently by the look Beau is giving me—and the snickers coming from Asher and Theo—he clearly thinks I’m speaking in innuendo. “The chocolate chip variety. And the oatmeal cookie. The edible ones.”
Beau chuckles. “Oh it’s going to be fun fucking with you.”
“Anyway,” Theo drawls. “I didn’t think about it again, until the three of us were cosmically put together as judges in a charity pie competition.”
“No fucking way,” I say with a laugh. “It’s like the world was telling you this needed to happen.”
“Exactly, my football playing new friend,” Theo says. “When we went back to deliberate, the three of us were very judgmental, while the fourth and fifth judges didn’t seem to care at all that the meringue on their top pick was runny.”
“No fucking fluff,” Asher says, shaking his head. “I was pissed and left. Told them that they had my vote and they could figure the rest out.”
“After he stomped out, we convinced the other two nimrods the wildberry crumble pie should win,” Beau says. “During all that, I also happened to mention to Theo that I recently opened a bakery for my sister, and that I had keys.”
“And then I happened to mention that I wouldn’t mind starting to learn to bake, and that we should get together and do it. Which is why I say I’m the founder.”
I look over to Asher. “Then how did you get added into the fold.”
He finally looks up to us with a sigh. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yes he did,” Theo says. “He makes it seem like we took him hostage. We’ve only done that to you.”
“In reality,” Beau adds, “I saw him a few weeks later—coincidentally, in the baking supplies aisle at a grocery store—and floated to him what Lawson and I were doing. He was here first for the next meeting.”
“And thus, the baking club was born.”
I laugh as I take this all in. Here I am, standing in my girlfriend’s kitchen with three superstar athletes. More specifically, three additional superstar athletes. Because I know I’m no slouch. But these guys? Next level.
Beau is at the top of the golf—and social media—world. He’s the oldest in the room in his late thirties, yet, here he is, lining cellophane on the counter for easier cleanup.
Asher is the one I’d never expect to see in something like this, had I known something like this existed.
He’s so gruff and so isolated. At least that’s what he shows the public.
Him being here tells me this is a group of guys you can tell secrets to.
Confidants. And every person—pro athlete or not—needs that.
I know Theo the least, which is saying something since I barely know Asher and Beau. From what I’ve heard around town, he’s a good dude. Stud player for the BlueBirds. The closest in age to me. The tattoos give him a little edge, but I can already tell he and I are going to get along just fine.
And while I don’t know any of them well, I do know Gabi would trust Beau with her life, and that’s good enough for me.
If he’s bringing me here, sharing this secret with me, rather than calling in his squad to take me to task for getting his baby sister pregnant?
I’m not about to look that gift horse in the mouth.
“Poker club,” Asher corrects me. “Because if anyone found out the three of us were meeting twice a month to bake, we’d have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Have to keep up the appearance,” I say. “I mean, what would it look like if it got out that one of the biggest enforcers in professional hockey knew how to pipe icing like that?”
He narrows his eyes at me, and for the first time tonight, I’m more frightened of him than I am of Beau. “Adalyn’s preschool has a bake sale this week. And I’m not going to send her to school with some store-bought chocolate chip shit.”
I laugh as he goes back to piping out smiley faces on sugar cookies. Which is something I never thought I’d see from Asher Reed.
“Okay. So this is baking—I mean poker club. Can I ask where I fit into this?”
Beau puts down what looks to be a ball of bread dough and brushes his hands down his apron.
“When I found out Gabi was pregnant, I called both of these guys. Yes, I had some feelings I needed to vocalize—and though they weren’t completely against you, your name did come up.
Asher suggested we invite you. That you might benefit from a support group like this. ”
I look over to Asher. “Did you tell him at that point you already knew?”
He shakes his head. “No. I saved that for earlier tonight so I could see his reaction. It was fucking priceless.”
I laugh. I bet it was.
“Thanks…I mean…yeah…there are some guys on the team who have a kid, but not any in my immediate friend group. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like I was paddling like hell to keep my head above water, while also telling the lifeguard I’m not drowning.”
“And that’s why you’re here,” Theo says.
“Me? I’m not going to be much help until it hits the time where you need help putting shit together.
That’s my forte. Otherwise, I’m here to bring the vibes.
But baby questions? Asher’s your guy. Need help deciphering the Gabi dictionary? Who better than her brother.”
“Speaking of my sister,” Beau says. “She doesn’t know about this. That night I saw you two here after hours? That’s why I freaked out. These two were on their way.”
Things make a lot more sense now. And explains why he was so jumpy. I assumed it was because of my existence in Gabi’s life. “You know she wouldn’t care, right? Hell, she’d probably help.”
“Which is why we’re not telling her,” Beau continues.
“This is just for us. A way we can get away from the stresses of our sports and responsibilities. Where we don’t have to keep up appearances of being these big-time athletes.
Where we can get together, do something we all enjoy, unplug for a bit, talk about random shit, and be…
“Normal.” I finish his sentence, loving the sound of that. “A place where you can just be yourself.”
“Exactly,” Theo says. “So no one knows. We use the bakery after hours. Beau orders our supplies separately so nothing of hers goes missing. We clean up and don’t leave a trace behind. Are you good with keeping that secret?”
I think about it for a second, because in theory, I hate to keep anything from Gabi. Then again, if I tell her that her brother invited me to join his twice monthly poker night, I don’t think she’d suspect anything.
And I need this group. I need guys to lean on. Guys who have my back in ways my teammates can’t. Plus, I did say I wanted to take up baking…
“I can do that,” I say. “So when do we meet again?”
“Two weeks,” Beau says. “It’s macaron night.”