“Well, that was fun,” Dani rasped, her voice wrecked but wry. “But I’d rather not do it again.”
Her head lolled back against the hospital pillow, her hair damp with sweat. In her arms was the tiniest, most perfect girl I had ever laid eyes on—well, tied for first. Pink cheeks, green eyes, and a head full of dark hair already escaping her custom, knitted Roasters hat.
Our baby.
I huffed a laugh, my chest too full to manage anything more. “You were incredible, kitten,” I said, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “Absolutely fucking incredible.”
She tilted her head enough to meet my eyes. “I had a lot of help.”
I swallowed hard, brushing a thumb down her cheek. Truth was, I hadn’t done a damn thing compared to her. Sure, I’d held her hand, barked at a few nurses, whispered every encouragement I could think of. But the real work? That hadbeen all her. Nine plus hours of sweat, pain, and grit as she pushed our girl into the world. And she’d done it with a strength that made me fall in love with her all over again.
“Help?” I said, shaking my head. “Dani, I just sat there like a useless fool while you did the impossible. You carried her. You brought her here. That was all you.”
Her lips curved, tired but sharp as ever. “Uh-huh. And now you’re stuck loving me even after seeing my vagina turn into a crime scene.”
I barked out a laugh, startled and hoarse. “Jesus, kitten.”
“You are still gonna love it, right? Even after . . . all that?”
My chest tightened, and I bent closer, letting my lips graze her ear. “Kitten, I’d build a shrine to your pussy if I thought the hospital would let me.”
Her tired laugh caught, broke, then melted into a grin that hit me harder than any foul ball.
The sound quieted, leaving just the steady beep of the monitors and the soft squeak of the baby shifting in her arms. I let my forehead rest against Dani’s, reminding myself for the umpteenth time today that she was safe, our baby was safe, and I was the luckiest bastard in the world.
“She’s beautiful,” Dani whispered, her voice cracking on the word.
My throat closed as I looked at her. I’d bet my left nut that every parent thought their kid was the most beautiful baby in the world. The difference was, they were all wrong. Because this one, our girl with her scrunched-up nose and perfect little fists, she was the real deal. And she’d gotten it all from her mama.
I brushed a kiss across Dani’s damp temple, my voice rough with conviction. “Sorry, but it’s official. Every other parent’s been lying to themselves. Ours is the reigning champ.”
Dani huffed a soft, watery laugh. “Coach, you can’t just turn our daughter into a competition.”
“Can and did,” I said, grinning down at her like she’d just clinched the World Series. “She’s already my MVP.”
“I can’t believe she’s really ours.”
I slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me so I could look too, our daughter nestled between us like the missing piece we hadn’t even known we’d been waiting for. My chest squeezed so hard it almost hurt. “Yeah,” I said, my voice wrecked. “Ours.”
For a long while, neither of us spoke. We just stared at her, counting every finger, every breath, letting the quiet wrap around us like something sacred. And in that silence, I knew without a doubt—no game, no win, no championship ring could ever come close to this.
Finally, Dani dragged her gaze up to me, eyes still shining with exhaustion. “So . . . ,” she whispered, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Did we win?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I replied, leaning in to kiss her again. “I already won.”
For a minute, I just breathed her in—her sweat, her shampoo, the faint antiseptic of the hospital room—and then, like a replay on the jumbotron, flashes of how we’d gotten here rolled through me.
Pink’s panicked voice on the bullpen phone. Dani’s voice, raw and uneven, telling me it was time.The way my chest had split wide open when I’d glanced across the field and seen her, doubled over, waving at me from left field while I’d stood frozen at the dugout rail. I didn’t even remember dropping the phone. Just running, barreling through the tunnel, ignoring every shout behind me.
The ten-minute car ride to the hospital had felt like an hour—me gripping the wheel like I was a character out ofThe Fast and the Furious, Clarke in the back seat, trying to coach Danithrough her breathing, Dani cursing me and my “incredible cock” for getting her into this mess.
And then came the hospital. Doctors barking orders. Me at her side, holding her hand so tight my knuckles cracked, kissing sweat from her forehead while she bore down through hours of pain I couldn’t shoulder for her.
And somehow, she’d done it. My fierce, stubborn, impossible woman had brought our daughter into the world.
“You still with me, coach?” she asked softly.
I blinked back to the present, my vision blurring when I looked at her again. “Always,” I said, my voice breaking.
