“He nodded,” Sloane tells me. More rustling, and when she speaks again, I know she took me off speaker. “We’re just going to snuggle and watch the game. I’ve got some homemade chicken soup in the Crock-Pot and crackers. We have Pedialyte, and I already gave him something for the fever.”
“I— Thank you, Sloane.” I almost blurted out that I loved her, because I do, and my dumb ass has yet to tell her. I keep waiting for the right time, and this isn’t it.
“You don’t have to thank me for caring about him, Baker. You’re both important to me. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“I’m glad he has you. I’m glad we both do,” I amend.
“Well, we’ll be here when you get home. We’ll be watching and cheering you on.”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can.” I want to be home with them, to help her care for him. I want in on the snuggle fest that’s happening on my couch right now.
“Do what you have to do, Baker. You don’t have to rush. We’re just fine. I just don’t think it’s smart to take him to a game when he’s not feeling well. He’ll be more comfortable here.”
“I agree. I’ll be home soon.” Love you.
“Have a good game,” she says, ending the call.
“What’s up?” Foster asks. He joined our little group during my call.
I run my fingers through my hair. “Cam’s not feeling well. Sloane is going to stay home with him.”
“He all right?” Landry asks.
“Yeah, kids get sick. He’s running a low-grade fever and just wants Sloane to hold him.”
“Like his daddy,” Reid teases.
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re not wrong,” I admit.
“He’s in good hands,” Knox says, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“I know, but damn, I’d rather be there,” I confess. The guys fall quiet. It’s Reid who speaks up.
“Before Coral was born, I might have said you’ve lost your mind, that nothing beats the thrill of the game and the stadium full of fans, but I feel you, brother. Let’s go kick some Badger ass so you can get home to them.”
Them. Not him, but them. When I wasn’t looking, Sloane and I became a team. Not because I pay her to be there, but because we both love my son unconditionally. My home team needs me, so I’m going to play the best damn game of football for the Rampage team that I have ever played so that I can get back to them. A quick four quarters, and then I’ll be home.
I sneak into the house quietly, not sure what I’m walking into. The lights in the kitchen are low, and the smell that greets me has me swallowing back a groan. The homemade chicken noodle soup smells damn good, and after I check on my son and my girl, I plan to have me a bowl, maybe two.
I gently place my bag on the floor to avoid making noise, kick off my shoes, and go in search of them. I round the corner to the living room and stop in my tracks. There, in the recliner, are Sloane and Camden. The room is dark, except for the glow of the television. There’s a sippy cup and the insulated tumbler she carries everywhere on the table next to them. Cam is resting on her chest, his face turned toward me, and they’re both sleeping.
Warmth unfurls through my chest at the sight of them. They’re both tucked beneath the blanket, and I can see even beneath the covers that Sloane is curled protectively around him as if she’s shielding him from the world. The sight is so tender, it makes my throat tighten. There’s a kind of peace settled around them that I don’t want to disturb.
I take another step into the room, planning to just sit on the couch and watch as my entire world slumbers in the chair, but plans change when Camden shifts. Sloane’s eyes pop open, and she checks on him and spots me.
“Hey,” she whispers. “Good game. Two touchdowns.” She smiles softly.
“Thanks, baby. How’s our boy?” I ask. The words roll off my tongue effortlessly.
“He’s still not playing much, whiny, and not much of an appetite. He did eat a few bites of soup, and he’s had a good bit of the Pedialyte.”
Kneeling next to the chair, I place my hand on his back as I lean in to kiss her. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“Baker.” She shakes her head. “Stop thanking me.”
My emotions are getting the best of me, so I keep going, needing to get the words out. “We’re so lucky to have you. You’ve changed our lives, Sloane. I don’t have the constant worry I had before. I know that if he’s not with me, he’s with you, and that gets me right here,” I tell her, placing my hand over my chest. I mean, I still worry, because I’ll never stop, but it’s different. “It’s as if I can finally breathe. For the first time since Natasha told me she was pregnant, I feel as though I’m breathing evenly. You give us both peace.”
She blinks hard a few times, fighting back her own emotions. “Baker—” She starts, but Cam lifts his head.
