“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.”
CHAPTER 23
GABI
For the first time in weeks, I can actually say that not only am I comfortable, but dare I say, relaxed.
Welcome to the second trimester.
Yes, the bath I’m currently taking absolutely helps. And that my morning sickness has finally curbed. I’m not as tired as I was, which is great because I’m now awake for more than two non-working hours a day. I know Maddox is excited about that. Except the other night I’m pretty sure he was wondering why we weren’t in bed by seven.
Mind you, it was seven-fifteen and we were in bed twenty minutes later. My boyfriend is newly twenty-five going on sixty.
Boyfriend. I don’t know what’s harder for me to wrap my head around—the fact that I’m thirteen weeks pregnant, or that Maddox Gallagher is my boyfriend.
Honestly? It’s a tie. As much as I can’t believe it, as the days go by, it’s becoming harder and harder to imagine what I’d be doing right now if I wasn’t here. Well, not physically here, as I’m currently in Maddox’s huge bathtub. But here in general.
Here with a successful bakery, where I’m in the process of hiring another baker to help me with the workload. Beau sayswe can afford it without him chipping in any extra of his own money, and he wouldn’t lie about that.
Here with my professional football player boyfriend. A man who shows me daily what it’s like to not only be loved, but to be in a relationship that’s a true partnership.
And here as an expecting mom. Now that I think about it, this wins the baffling trophy.
Getting divorced in my mid-thirties, I figured the odds of ever being in this position were pretty much slim to none. I didn’t even know when I was going to be ready to date again, let alone start a family. Guess slim had better odds than none.
My hands absent-mindedly go to my stomach, where the slightest baby bump has started to show. We had our first doctor’s appointment two weeks ago, and hearing Tiny Tot’s heartbeat was the most surreal experience of my life. I was crying, Maddox was a mess, and the doctor was all smiles as she pointed out different things on the ultrasound. I heard most of them, but I forgot them as quickly as she said them. Because all I could do was look at the monitor and stare at what I’ve come to think of as my little souvenir.
The one I didn’t know I wanted.
The one that terrifies me every day.
The one I already love so much.
I feel the water start to chill and take that as my cue to start getting out of the bathtub. Except when I open my eyes, I notice I’m not alone.
“Hey gorgeous.”
I could say the same to him. Because Maddox Gallagher wearing nothing but drawstring gray sweatpants, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his broad chest, giving me the perfect view of his trim waist? I don’t know if “gorgeous” is an adequate enough word.
“Hey,” I say softly as he starts walking toward me. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t know if you were sleeping or not, so I made sure I was quiet.” He leans down to place a kiss on my forehead. “Have a good night?”
