Chapter 28 Dani
Dani
By the time summer melted into September, my travel days with the Roasters were officially over—doctor’s orders. Between the swollen ankles, the occasional dizzy spell, and my elevated blood pressure, Dr. Kong had strongly recommended ceasing all jet-setting for the rest of my pregnancy.
Brooks had agreed, of course. Overprotective papa bear that he was, he would’ve kept me laid out, naked, on a pillowy throne all day if he thought for even a second, I might be okay with it.
Not that I didn’t appreciate it. His fussing made me feel loved, even when it drove me a little nuts.
He’d stopped trying to talk me into “taking it easy” at work after I’d reminded him that my job wasn’t exactly a full-contact sport.
That didn’t stop him from having lunch delivered to me every day, though.
Both of our offices now had mini nurseries tucked into the corners, complete with bassinets, baby bouncers, and baskets of diapers and wipes stacked neatly, like we were staging a photoshoot.
This kid was going to have more nurseries than she knew what to do with.
“Look, Dani!” Carolina gasped, darting toward a ginger tabby sprawled upside down, all belly and whiskers. “He’s smiling at me.”
Bella trailed behind her, clutching a slim paperback like it was armor. She cast a skeptical glance around the café, taking in the communal tables, the bulletin board of information about adopting and fostering, and the cats padding across every surface.
“That’s just how cat mouths look,” she corrected.
“Bella,” Nessa scolded gently, though I caught the twitch of a smile she tried to hide.
Carolina mulled over this information, eyes bouncing between the cats splayed out around the room. “Then, all cats are smiling.”
Touché.
Bella blinked, quietly processing Carolina’s response. For a second, it looked like she wanted to counter—her lips parted, a thought poised on the edge—but instead, she just gave a small nod. “I’m going to grab a tea.”
She excused herself to the café counter without another word.
This had become somewhat of a routine the past couple of weeks.
While the guys ground through back-to-back road series in Chicago and Kansas City, I visited Pawsitive Vibes, soaking up the scent of coffee and catnip, sometimes while I got some backend paperwork done.
It had become my go-to office away from the office.
The kitten-induced serotonin boost didn’t hurt either.
Even better, I had befriended “Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather,” aka Sherri, Celia, and Nancy, the trio of septuagenarians who owned and operated Pawsitive Vibes like some kind of modern-day Golden Girls. Talk about friendship goals.
I was currently working with them to coordinate a Roasters sponsored adoption event at the stadium, one where the fans could cuddle and, hopefully, take home their next furry friend.
It wouldn’t be the first time the team had partnered with a local animal shelter—just last month, we had orchestrated a jersey auction with paw prints smeared across the fabric courtesy of some rescue dogs—but the idea of filling the concourse with cats and kittens, especially from an organization so dear to the man I loved, felt like something special.
And then, there was the calendar.
I had taken Nessa up on her suggestion. The Roasters were getting a calendar—a sexy one, with rescue animals—just in time for next year’s holiday season. Merry fucking Christmas, baseball fans.
Now I just needed to talk Brooks into posing for it.
“I should get a cat for Smutty Buddies,” Nessa said, sweeping her hand across the back of black furball. “And name him something romance-y, like Axel. Or Wyatt.”
“Sebastian,” I offered. “There’s always a Sebastian.”
“It’s like the universal romance hero fuckboy name.” She sank into one of the café’s mismatched chairs. “Even though I’ve never met a Sebastain in my life.”
I pressed a hand over my bump and eased into the chair opposite her with a sigh of relief. Pregnancy had turned sitting down into an Olympic event.
Nessa’s grin sharpened. “Speaking of romance heroes, I was thinking about something the other day that I wanted to run by you.”
“And how much nudity is involved in this one?”
“Minimal, at best.”
I laughed so hard, my bump jiggled. “Hit me with it.”
“Okay, imagine this . . . A baseball romance signing event at the stadium during the off-season. Authors, merch tables, and maybe a few photo ops with the guys.”
I tilted my head, already spinning through the logistics.
This was the part of my job I loved most—taking a half-formed idea and figuring out how to make it sing, how to connect it with the fans, the brand, the bigger picture.
My brain immediately started sifting through dates, sponsorship tie-ins, and at least half a dozen ways we could market the hell out of an event like this.
“That could work,” I told her. “Off-season, we’d have the space and staff available. Authors would get exposure to a whole new audience, fans would get an excuse to come back into the park, and the team could promote it as a community crossover event. Sponsors would eat it up.”
Nessa leaned back, smug as hell. “I knew you’d see the vision.”
I took another sip of chai, fingers drumming against my bump as the idea solidified.
“We would need to frame it right. Something playful but accessible. Not just for romance readers, but also baseball fans who might get curious. It would help if we could tie in a charity, too. Maybe a portion of the ticket sales could go to a literacy program or library?”
“Damn, Dani.”
I arched my brow. “What?”
“You make my harebrained ideas sound like marketing gold.”
I shrugged, but inside I was already drafting the pitch in my head—just one more thing to add to my “before birth” to-do list.
We batted around ideas for another ten minutes or so, sketching out possible author panels and merch tie-ins until eventually, the scrape of a chair signaled Bella’s return.
She sat down across from us with her tea balanced in one hand, her book in the other.
The title—Beekeeping Basics: From Hive to Honey—was printed in bold yellow letters across the cover.
Carolina moseyed over to our table with a kitten cradled in her arms like a baby. “Can we take him home, Dani? Please.”
“Not today, sweetie.”
Carolina shot me a pout that looked suspiciously like Brooks’s game-day scowl.
God help me, I’m in trouble.
“But he purrs like a motorboat,” she announced proudly.
“Fun fact,” Bella said without looking up from her book. “Cats can purr both when they inhale and exhale. It’s one of the only sounds they can make continuously.”
Carolina’s eyes went wide. “Like a superpower.”
Nessa shot me a grin before turning casually toward Bella. “You know, Belles, now that Dani is moving in with Brooks, a room is opening up at our place. Bennett was interested in maybe moving in.”
Bella blinked, finally glancing up. “That sounds nice.”
I hid my smile behind my drink.
“Although, if he’s going to live with you and Jared, you both should probably consider learning some ASL,” she quickly added.
Her brows furrowed like she was trying to solve an advanced equation.
“He signs a little different when he’s excited.
His movements are sharper and faster. And he pushes his hair back behind his ear when he’s thinking about what to say. ”
Nessa’s brows shot up, but Bella had already gone back to reading.
“I have a few books on sign language, though,” she added matter-of-factly, flipping a page. “You can borrow them if you want.”
I bit back a smile, warmth blooming in my chest. Bella wasn’t the type to gush or daydream out loud, not like Clarke or, hell, me. But the way she had catalogued those tiny details said plenty. I knew what it meant to notice someone like that. To want to learn their language . . . literally.
Still, neither of us were about to push her. Bella might’ve been blunt as hell, but her heart was softer than she let on. She didn’t need us meddling. What she needed was space to figure it out herself.
So, I just sipped my latte and filed away the information like any good pseudo-older sister would. Besides, if Bennett had half a brain in that handsome head of his, he’d catch on eventually.
I shifted in my chair, wincing as something—well, someone—pressed against my ribs. “Oh, for the love of—” I set my chai latte down and rubbed a hand across my belly. “BB’s doing gymnastics again.”
Carolina’s head snapped up from where she’d been coaxing the ginger tabby onto her lap. “Can I feel her?”
“Of course.” I leaned back a little, tugging my shirt tighter across the swell of my stomach. Carolina’s small palm pressed against me, tentative but eager, and a second later, the baby rolled again, right under her hand.
Her face lit up, pure wonder. “She’s saying hi to me.”
I laughed, even as my eyes stung. “Guess she is.”
It wasn’t the first time—Carolina had asked to feel the baby almost every day since I’d started showing—but each time hit me harder.
Every morning, after she stayed the night with Brooks and me, she’d sit next to me on the couch, hand glued to my stomach, whispering secrets to the bump as if the baby could understand.
Watching her now, brown eyes wide and solemn, hand spread over my belly like she was guarding it, I couldn’t help but think about how lucky and loved this kid was already.
Not just by me and Brooks, but by Carolina, too.
Her grin went lopsided, a little shy. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“It won’t be long now,” I said, covering her hand with mine and smiling. “You’re going to be the best big sister.”
“I know.”
My chest ached, but in the best way.
This was it, the life I hadn’t realized I’d been craving. A circle that kept widening, making room for me in ways I hadn’t known possible.
Brooks and Carolina. Pink, the brother I had always wanted. Nessa, with her books and loud opinions. Clarke, June, and the rest of my chaos crew. They weren’t just friends or coworkers anymore; they were family. The kind I’d always secretly wanted, the kind I was finally building.
A soft meow pulled my gaze down.
The ginger tabby I’d seen earlier hopped up onto the empty chair beside me, her tail curling neatly around her paws as if she’d chosen her seat with purpose. Wide amber eyes blinked up at me, unbothered, patient. Like she knew something I didn’t.
“Hiya, pretty girl.”
I reached out and scratched gently under her chin. She leaned into it without hesitation, purring loud enough to rattle her whole body.
“Yeah,” I whispered, smiling despite myself. “I get it.”