Ian: On my way over. Called in reinforcements.
My first instinct is to message back and tell him I don’t need help. I can handle this on my own. I’ve been handling my own shit for most of my life. The younger brother of the perfect Playmaker who was determined to prove myself without relying on anything except my ability to catch a football.
But the truth is, I could use all the help I can get.
I carry Ellie upstairs to the small office Piper converted into a makeshift nursery. It barely fits the crib, but Ellie couldn’t care less. Her eyes barely flutter when I lay her down.
“I’m going to fix this, munchkin,” I whisper. “I promise.”
By the time I get back downstairs, Ian is letting himself into the house, followed by Eric and Chase, their expressions landing somewhere between understanding and disappointment. I’ve earned the latter.
“Jake’s in New York meeting with his publisher,” Eric says, as if I’m due an explanation for why all of my new gang hasn’t shown up.
“He’s gonna want a full report,” Chase adds. “Everything is fodder for an author.”
Speaking of fodder...
“Hold that thought.” I race back upstairs, pull open the dresser drawer that holds my socks and briefs, and return to the kitchen carrying the velvet box. “Just so you know I’m not a complete fuckwit, I bought a ring in Denver the other day. I want her to marry me. Not because she needs me or because of the baby, but because...”
I break off, the words sticking in my throat.
“Because you love her, dip shit,” Ian says. His voice is matter-of-fact, like he can’t believe it’s taken me this long to pull my head out of my ass. Join the club, bro.
“Because I love her,” I repeat.
Saying it out loud to these guys feels real. Right. It doesn’t make me weak, like my dad tried to convince me. No one—not the least of whom Piper—is sharpening their sword, ready to take a swipe at my unguarded heart.
It’s the opposite, in fact. She makes me want to be better and stronger. Not for football or my career or any of the bullshit that used to matter. Better for her and Ellie and our baby. The people who matter most.
Eric cocks a brow. “Well, let’s see how you did.”
I flip open the box, and the simple oval diamond catches the light from the kitchen window, sparkling in an understated way. If a four-carat diamond can be called understated.
Ian’s blue eyes crinkle as he studies the ring before glancing up at me. “That isn’t exactly the kind of flashy drip Felix Barlowe has made his calling card.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” My tone is straight-up defensive because I’d like to punch my brother right in the nuts. “I picked out somethingPiperwould like. She’s fucking beautiful just the way she is. That woman—my woman—doesn’t need any?—”
I break off when Ian pulls me into a tight hug, still holding onto the velvet box like I’m cradling a caught ball in the end zone. “Well done, Felix.” He pulls away and cups my face between his giant mitts, clapping his palms against my cheeks. “You figured it out.”
Oh. He approves. Okay, then. Let’s fucking go.
“Hell, yeah, I figured it out.” My voice is a little trembly. Could be I’m developing sympathetic pregnancy hormones.
“It’s perfect,” Chase says.
“She’s gonna love it,” Eric adds with a laugh. “Assuming you don’t screw up the proposal the way you did last time.”
I wince. “About that. I need to do this right. I want to propose right here. This house…” I gesture around us. “It’s her childhood home, and Sadie raised her here. Honestly, I’ve felt more at home in this house over the past few weeks than I have anywhere in years.”
The three of them nod like they’re picking up what I’m laying down.
“You could go big.” Eric gives me a slow wink. “I hear secret garden themes are a thing for NFL players.”
I shake my head. “Much respect to my man in KC, but I’m done with secrets. That’s half of what got me into this mess in the first place.” I set the ring box on the counter. “Besides, Piper would see right through some elaborate production. She’d know it wasn’t me.”
“So whatisyou?” my brother asks. I have a feeling the great and powerful Playmaker already knows the answer, but I’m going to get there on my own.
I massage a hand over the back of my neck thinking about the past month. “I don’t want something ostentatious. Part of why I fucking fell for her is that Piper makes the ordinary moments feel special. She doesn’t need grand gestures. I want it to be real.”
