Chapter 9 Brooks
Brooks
“Um, surprise.”
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Not when it felt like I had been sucker punched straight in the dick.
But this?
This hit different. And it hit hard, without mercy.
The second Matty had held up that sonogram photo and asked who it belonged to, I’d felt the ground shift under my feet.
Every pair of eyes had turned to Dani. And not because of how incredible she looked in her bikini—I had nearly swallowed my tongue when I’d first spotted her running across the yard in the scrap of black-and-white fabric, my favorite bits bouncing and jiggling with every step—but rather because of the guilt coloring her cheeks.
Because she was pregnant.
My kitten was pregnant.
My hands were shaking, my heart was pounding, and I had the sudden urge to vomit all over my shortstop’s well-trimmed grass. Breathe, asshole. I knew I should have said something. I must have looked like a bumbling idiot, and in front of my team no less, but still, I struggled to find the words.
And all the while, I never took my eyes off Dani.
Her face flushed, her mouth parted like she was about to deny it—or maybe defend herself—but she didn’t say a word. She took off, snatching the photo out of Matty’s hand and bolting for the house.
I stood frozen for a second too long, my brain still trying to play catch-up with what the hell had just happened. And then, I was moving, too.
I barely registered Pink’s wide-eyed expression or Clarke calling out after Dani. I was already cutting through the stunned silence and heading for the sliding glass door.
She was fast, but I was faster. I found her halfway down the hallway inside the farmhouse, pushing open a door like she didn’t care where it led, just so long as she could disappear.
Not on my watch, kitten.
I reached it just as she did, slamming it closed behind the two of us. It was a guest room, dressed in recycled wood and at least fifty shades of cream, a stark contrast to the tan, tattooed beauty standing across from me, avoiding my gaze.
“Something you want to tell me, kitten?” My voice came out harsher than I’d meant it to, cracking around the edges.
I stalked toward her when she didn’t respond. I needed her to look at me, but her eyes were stubbornly fixed on her feet.
Fuck that.
I stopped when we were toe to toe, tipping her chin back until our eyes finally met. Moisture gathered in hers, but she blinked back her tears. I was mad—fucking pissed, actually—but I knew what that look on her face meant.
Shame. Guilt.
It wasn’t something I was used to seeing on her, and I didn’t like it one bit. I swallowed past the knot in my throat and forced myself to soften my tone.
“Dani.”
She didn’t say anything right away, but I could feel the tension radiating off her. Her breath hitched against my chest, shallow and uneven. She blinked up at me, lashes fluttering like she wanted to look away but couldn’t—not with my hand still under her chin, tilting her face toward mine.
“I wasn’t hiding it,” she said finally, her voice hoarse. “I promise.”
My thumb brushed her jaw, and I felt it clench beneath my fingers. “Hiding what exactly?”
“You know what.”
“I need to hear it.” My voice came out low, almost guttural. I was trying to stay calm, but with every second that passed, I felt closer to unraveling. “Because right now, I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”
One of her hands fisted gently in the fabric of my shirt, like she needed something to hold onto. Her eyes searched mine, and she gave the smallest shake of her head. Whether it was in denial or fear or panic, I couldn’t tell.
“Dani.” My pulse thundered in my ears. “Are you having my baby?”
Her lips parted, and for a second, I wasn’t sure the words would come out.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s yours.”
There it was: the truth laid bare between us.
Dani’s having my baby.
I let out a slow breath, trying to keep the floor steady beneath my feet.
She was still right there in front of me, still holding onto my shirt like she needed me, even though we both knew that wasn’t the case.
But her eyes told me that she was already starting to retreat.
I saw it in the way her shoulders tensed, the way her lips trembled.
“Fuck, Dani,” I said quietly. The breath I let out was shaky. I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, unsure what to do with any of this. The weight of it. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Her breath hitched—just barely, but it was enough.
I knew I’d fucked up the second the words left my mouth. They were too sharp, too raw, too much like an accusation when what I should’ve offered her was comfort.
Her expression crumpled. “I was going to,” she said quickly. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for weeks—”
“You’ve known for weeks?” I asked through gritted teeth. This just got worse and worse.
She winced. “Okay, that sounds bad, but I swear, I was going to tell you. And it was not supposed to be like this. But now that you do know, I just want to make it clear that you don’t owe me anything. I’m not expecting you to drop anything for me. Or us, I guess.”
Excuse me.
“Seriously, you don’t need to be involved at all if you don’t want to be.”
She said it like she was doing me a favor, like letting me off the hook was some kind of gift. Now, I was pissed for a completely different reason.
“You don’t get to say that,” I snapped, stepping away from her. “You don’t get to decide what kind of father I want to be.”
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but I wasn’t finished.“I already have a kid. I already know what this whole thing looks like, how much it means. I’m not some one-night stand you forgot to text the next day. You know me. You should know I don’t walk away from shit like this.”
I gestured between us.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t want this?” I asked. “That I wouldn’t want you?”
Her mouth dropped open at my directness. I couldn’t blame her—it was probably the most words I had ever strung together at once. Definitely not my smoothest move either, but there was nothing smooth about this situation.
This was a fucking mess. And I was in deep.
Her arms wrapped around the slight swell of her belly. Our baby. Fucking Christ, she was growing our child. Which reminded me—
“Can I see?”
She flinched when I reached for her hand. More specifically, for the now crumpled photo clutched between her fingers.
All the fire and panic inside me cooled into something heavier. Something sadder. Dani wasn’t trying to punish me; she was trying to protect herself—from hope, from heartbreak. From me.
And that was the deepest cut of all.
She followed my gaze, and a flicker of understanding passed across her face.
She uncurled her fingers and placed the sonogram in my hand. It was creased from being held so tightly and a bit torn thanks to Matty’s dog, but I could still make it out—the little bean-shaped silhouette in the center no bigger than a strawberry.
Jesus Christ.
I stared at it, mesmerized by this little being I already loved so damn much. The onslaught of emotions rushed over me—awe, terror, gratitude. It was overwhelming, in the best way possible.
And then the dam burst.
“When’s your due date?”
“October eighth.”
The questions spilled out of me. “And are you taking your vitamins? How’s your blood pressure? Have you decided on your birth plan yet? Are you going to stop traveling with the team? That might be too much for your body.”
Her mouth dropped open, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Okay, stop,” she said, holding up her hands. “Back it up, coach. This is turning into an interrogation.”
I scrubbed a hand down my beard, dragging in a breath like it might calm the heat under my skin. It didn’t.
“I’m sorry, but this is a big deal. We have a lot to figure out, and I should’ve been there for you since day one, but I didn’t—”
“You didn’t know,” she cut in sharply. “I got that, Brooks. You’ve made it very clear that I should have told you sooner, and you know what? You’re right. And I apologize for that, but now that you do know, you’re acting like I’ve been completely reckless and incompetent.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She took a step back. “Are you sure?"
I reached for her again, but she dodged my touch.
“Dani—”
“You don’t get to show up and start barking orders like I’m one of your players, Brooks,” she said, voice trembling. “I’m glad you want to be involved, but that doesn’t mean you get to control me.”
“I’m not trying to,” I said defensively, but even as the words left my mouth, I wasn’t sure if they were true.
Because maybe, just maybe, some part of me was trying to control it—her, this, all of it.
Not because I didn’t trust her, but because the second I saw that sonogram photo, the earth shifted beneath me.
The trajectory of my life changed. And I didn’t know how to exist in this new version of reality, where the woman I wanted was pregnant and I hadn’t been there for any of it.
Again.
I had seen this film play out before and sequels fucking sucked.
I was used to calling the shots, used to having a game plan. But there was no playbook for this. And watching Dani inch closer to the door, desperate for an escape, was starting to feel a hell of a lot like losing.
And I hated losing.
“I need a minute,” she muttered, snatching the photo from me and turning on her heel.
I watched her go, my hand still half-lifted in the air. But I didn’t chase her this time. I couldn’t, not yet at least.
The slam of the door echoed in my chest like a warning shot. My instincts were screaming at me to fix this, to follow her, to force a conversation until everything made sense again. But I knew better. If I pushed now, she would only run farther, faster—and maybe not come back.
If I wanted any chance in hell of being in this kid’s life—and hers—I needed to figure out how to show up without bulldozing everything in my path.
I wasn’t just some guy trying to make things right anymore. I was going to be a father again, and this time, I wasn’t going to fuck it up.