“We will, until the kids can’t handle it anymore.”
“There will be a break for lunch before the second session.”
“Okay.” I smile up at him. He returns it with earnest, and I watch him walk away.
Camden waves, as do I, before I meet Bellamy on the sidelines with Coral, and we settle in to watch our men—no, watch the men as they interact with fans and do some basic drills.
Something has shifted between us, and I don’t know what it is, but I’m afraid to ask. I need to talk to someone about this. My best friends are his friends, too, and the wives of his friends, so it’s complicated, but it has to happen. I’m too out of my element to navigate this on my own. I work for him, so it’s complicated as hell, but even knowing that, I don’t want to walk away.
Chapter Thirteen
Baker
* * *
My ass is dragging as I pull into the garage and hit the button on the visor to close the garage door behind me. We had a preseason game today in Kentucky. Close enough that we took the bus, which means we’re home the same night, in our own beds, since we played the early game.
I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is check in on Camden and fall face-first into my bed. I don’t even bother bringing in my bag. I’ll get it tomorrow. Instead, I quietly make my way into the house, disarming the alarm and resetting it before kicking off my shoes and making my way upstairs in the dark. When I reach Camden’s room, I push open the door, and it takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dim nightlight in his room. When they do, my breath hitches.
Curled up in my son’s bed is Sloane. She has her arms wrapped protectively around my boy, and he’s sleeping as if he’s the safest he’s ever been. The exhaustion I was feeling leaves, and something else, something stronger, takes its place. It’s a feeling that’s foreign, and I pretend I don’t know what it is.
Instead, I leave the room and rush down the hall to mine. I change out of the suit I had to wear to the game, into pajama pants, and rush back to them. I don’t hesitate to step over the footrails of the floor bed Sloane and I picked out for Camden, and settle beside Sloane.
This bed was the second-best decision I’ve made in the last few weeks. The first? Hiring Sloane. Having her here, coming home to both of them, it’s surreal, and this moment right here, it’s everything.
Not able to help myself, I snuggle up to Sloane, wrapping my arm around her. She jolts awake. “Shh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” I press my lips to her cheek, not willing to relinquish my hold on her.
“It’s okay,” she mumbles sleepily.
I wait for her to tell me that she’s going to go to her own bed, but instead, she surprises me when she settles into my embrace. I pull her closer and bury my face in her neck. “I missed you,” I tell her.
“Glad you’re home,” she says, placing her hand over my hand that rests on her belly. She laces her fingers through mine and drifts back to sleep.
For as tired as I was, it takes a while for sleep to finally claim me. I can’t stop thinking about the woman in my arms. Sloane’s been in my life for a few years now, but it wasn’t until she offered to help me that I genuinely feel as though I got to know her. Her heart is huge, her smile is vibrant, and she’s sexy as fuck. My cock hardens thinking about her long, tanned legs. I should shift so that she doesn’t wake and feel it pressed against her ass, but honestly, I wouldn’t care if she did. She’s been here for over a month, and each day it’s harder and harder not to touch her.
I manage to do so whenever I can, but this is only the second time I’ve been able to hold her in my arms, and I’m worried that I’ll never be able to sleep again without her next to me. That’s my final thought as sleep finally claims me.
“Daddy, sweep.” I hear Camden try—and fail—to whisper.
“He is,” Sloane whispers. “We should be quiet and not wake him up.”
“Too late,” I say, pulling Sloane back into my chest. Waking up with my arms around her is the best start to my day.
“Daddy!” Camden cheers, and I chuckle. He leans over Sloane, resting his arms on her hips, and smiles at me. “Daddy, sweep.”
“I was, but now, I’m awake. Are you hungry?” I ask him.
He nods and rubs his belly. “Ice cweam.”
Sloane and I both laugh at that. “You’re cute,” I tell my son. “We don’t have ice cream for breakfast.”
“Ice cweam yummy.” He grins, rubbing his belly again, before abandoning his post and climbing out of bed.
I watch him as he runs to the small kitchen set my parents bought him, and starts pretending to make breakfast. “Good morning,” I whisper to Sloane, sliding my hand under her T-shirt. I know I’m pressing my luck, but the need to feel her soft skin beneath my fingertips wins over my concern that I should not be touching my nanny, my friend, like this. Yet, here I am, and I have no regrets.
She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Morning. Good game.” She smiles.
“You watched?”
