He doesn’t respond to my whispered question as he’s too busy deciding which toy to keep him occupied as I put him down on the play mat we brought. One thing about parenthood no one warns you about is why when you’re traveling anywhere, it’s like bringing the whole house with you. And a trip to Vegas? We needed two suitcases just for him.
Pack and play. Toys. Bottles. Clothes. I mean, his clothes aren’t that big. How did we need so many for a four-day trip?
But I wouldn’t have missed coming back here for anything. It’s the perfect circle back to what started it all. And what will hopefully start our next chapter.
“Almost ready!”
“You’re good!” I call out as take that moment to slip the ring—a three-carat pear-shaped diamond that Shelby swears Gabi’s going to love while also thinking it’s too much—into the pocket of my suit jacket. I check myself in the hotel mirror one more time, suddenly feeling nervous for the night. But somehow, that all melts away when I catch a reflection of Ace in the mirror, playing with his plush football, letting out the best sound in the world.
His giggles. They get me every fucking time.
There’s nothing to be nervous about. This is everything you want and more. Things at this time last year you didn’t even know were on the horizon.
The past five months have been a blur, while also being the best five months of my entire life. On the football field, it was as close to a perfect season as a team could have. I wasn’t wrong that first day of camp when I said there was something special in the air. We put up a season like no one could imagine. Pundits said we’d be dominant, but we even shocked them. One loss. Records set for scoring and defense—which never happens in professional football. No team is dominant on both sides of the ball. We could’ve gone unbeaten—the media and fans sureas hell wanted to see it—but we had bigger goals, and that was to win our fourth championship in five years. We rested every starter in our final game of the regular season. We weren’t taking any chances. The scary thing was that our backups and third-string players nearly got the win.
A little more than a month later, we were hoisting the championship trophy again. The championship game was in Miami this year. No, there wasn’t a championship rematch. That would’ve required the home team to make the playoffs.
But we were back. And we won again. Only this time now instead of celebrating by myself and surrounded by teammates, I got to kiss my girl after the win as the confetti rained down from the sky. Ace was there, looking fucking adorable in his little jersey and wearing a custom pair of baby Fury headphones. It was one of the best moments of my life.
Well, not the top one. That was the day he was born. Number two I’m reserving in the notebook for when Gabi and I say, “I do” and she officially becomes “wife” in the cell phone. Number three was when I found out I was going to be a dad. But that championship win with my family there to celebrate with me? It gets a solid fourth place.
Which considering the top three? Isn’t bad at all…
Since then, my life has been all things Gabi and Ace. Gabi is back to work and we’ve found our new normal. Sugar and Sweets is thriving. Beau still technically owns it, and while the goal is still for Gabi to take over one day, he’s not in a rush to sell. For obvious reasons to me but unknown ones to her. Yet, even though one day she wants it to be her business, she’s more than happy running the bakery, working a mid-shift where she doesn’t have to open or close so she can still be part of the creation of the desserts, and guide the menu to wear she wants it to go, without having to miss too much time at home.
Since it’s the offseason, I’m a proud stay-at-home dad, and I fucking love it. Honestly, I don’t understand why some men think it’s beneath them to be at home and take care of their children? Every day is a new adventure. We make sure to go visit Mommy at work at least three times a week, which also lets Ace see his great aunties. But we quickly learned that one of us always needs to be around. Not for safety concerns. More for what our child is hearing. The other day when Kitty was holding him so I could use the restroom, I came back to Phyllis talking to him about the importance of pleasing women and making sure they always come first.
And people were worried about me as a father…
I mean I was, but not for that reason. How could I not be the best at it when I have the best fucking kid in the world? He sleeps on a tight schedule that has allowed Gabi and I to get into a rhythm for feedings. He’s hitting every milestone like a fucking champ. And he’s a happy baby. Always smiling—my mother has said that my smile has made it to the next generation—and for the most part, very good natured. Sure, he’s starting to get a tooth and he’s not a fan of that. But who would be?
Sometimes I don’t have words for how much I love him. I was told by every man I know who’s a father that you don’t know love until you hold your child in your arms, and fuck if they weren’t right. That moment I first felt him against me, I felt my whole world shift.
It was also in that moment that I knew for a fact I was never going to be like my father. Because leaving him? Gabi? This life? Never in a million fucking years.
“Okay, I’m ready!”
“Here we go,” I whisper to Ace before I gently kiss the top of his head, picking up my suit jacket at the same time.
I stand up and turn around, and my jaw is immediately on the floor. “When… where… fuck Gabi, you look stunning.”
I had no idea what Gabi was wearing tonight—my only instructions to her were that we were going to an expensive dinner before a night on the town—but never in my wildest dreams did I expect to see her walk out of the bathroom in a sequins dress.
Thesequins dress.
“Where did you get this? I thought…”
“I bought another,” she says with a shrug and a sly smile on her lips. “I have very fond memories of that dress in this town”
“As do I.”
I pull her into me, hoping like hell that I’m not going to ruin her makeup, but also not caring. I need to kiss her. Taste her. Let my hands feel the roughness of the material as I trail them up her body—just like I did that night.
“We better stop,” she says, her lips barely away from mine. “Or we aren’t going to go out.”
I groan, because she’s right. Any other night I could’ve been convinced to cancel the plans. But tonight? No. Not tonight.
“I need to warn you,” I say as a promise before quickly kissing her one more time. “That dress might suffer the same fate as the last one.”
