Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Baker
“Do you know what today is?” I ask Camden.
“It’s your birthday party.” I pitch my voice, showing him my excitement, and he claps his hands while I wrangle his diaper on him.
I have no idea what the ladies have decided for today, but whatever it is, I know that our most important people will be here to celebrate my little guy.
“Knock knock,” a feminine voice says from behind me. I don’t need to turn to look to know that it’s Sloane. We’ve spent a lot of time together this week, getting her up to speed with everything while I’m at training camp that starts on Monday.
“Hey,” I greet her, as I pull Camden’s shorts up over his diaper.
“I have something for the two of you,” she says, stepping into the room. “I was worried they weren’t going to be here on time, but they came in last night, and I went over to Corie and Knox’s to pick them up when I left here,” she tells me.
“What is it?”
“These.” She hands me a small bag. She slides over next to me and lifts Camden from the changing table while I dig inside the bag.
Placing the bag on the changing table, I slip my hand inside and reach for the fabric. Pulling it out, I hold it up and grin. “What’s this?” I ask the question, but I know what it is. It’s a football jersey. It’s got the number 2 on the front, and Team Camden is embroidered over the number.
“Your outfit for the day. Turn it around.”
Doing as she says, I can’t contain my laughter when I read Sinclair written across the back. “This is incredible.”
“There’s one in there for Camden, too.”
I dig back into the bag and pull out a miniature version of my jersey. The front is the same as mine, in a smaller scale, and the back reads Sinclair, as well. “This is fantastic. Thank you, Sloane.” I’m not gonna lie, emotion burns the back of my throat.
“You’re welcome. We all have them to wear today.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Of course. It’s this little man’s big day. We have to support Team Camden.” She kisses my son on the cheek, and I can’t help but think this is what it was supposed to be like.
I was supposed to have my kid’s mother by my side, doing things like planning epic birthday parties with personalized jerseys.
“You did tell Bellamy to do her worst with your credit card.” Sloane laughs.
“I would have paid double, and I don’t even know what it cost me.” I smile and take another look at the jerseys. “What do you think, bud? You want to wear your jersey?”
Camden tilts his head to the side as if he can’t figure me out, and again, I find myself laughing.
My son never fails to make me smile, but today, this moment feels different.
Like the weight of the last two years, the stress of Natasha always pushing our son to the back burner in her life is gone.
All that’s left is me and my kid and those who mean the most to us.
I know that I have to stop worrying about Natasha and her relationship with Camden.
I know that I need to love my son with everything I have inside me and let the rest of the cards fall where they may.
“Let’s do this.” Sloane shifts Camden in her arms, and I pull the jersey over his head. “Two, that’s how old you are today. Can you say two?”
“Two!” Camden cheers and points at his chest.
“That’s right,” I praise.
“Try it on.” Sloane nods to my jersey.
“Do you have one?” I know she said everyone had one, but she’s not wearing hers, and for some reason, it’s important that she does. I just don’t know why.
“I do. It’s downstairs. I got here a little early to give you all yours before you took this guy to the park. I’m going to help everyone set up.”
“Thank you, Sloane. This is incredible,” I say, slipping the jersey on over the top of my T-shirt.
“It was a group effort. Now, the guys are meeting you at the park. Reid has Coral, as well, but you need to skedaddle so we can get this par-tay started,” she sings, bouncing Camden in her arms. He giggles and grips tightly to her shirt.
“Come on, bud. Let’s go slide,” I tell my son, taking him from her arms. “An hour or so?” I ask Sloane.
“That’s more than enough time.” She nods.
“Thank you. We’ll be back,” I tell her before turning and walking out the door.
When I make it to the kitchen, I find the small diaper bag I use for the park, already packed with a sippy cup of milk with an ice pack, two bottles of water, snacks, toys, a blanket—even though it’s hot as balls outside, it’s a comfort thing for Camden—and, of course, his stuffed Rowdy the Rampage Rhino.
“Sloane,” I whisper. It’s not even been a full week, and already her presence in our lives is profound.
Making a mental note to thank her later, I head out to the garage, and instead of jogging to the park, I choose to drive. It’s a short trip, and the guys and baby Coral are already here by the time I get Camden unloaded from the back of my SUV.
Knox intercepts him, tosses him into the air, and takes off for the swings, with Landry hot on his heels. Coral’s eyes are bright as she takes it all in, while Reid walks her around the park, pointing at birds and whatever else he can find to show his daughter.
That leaves Foster and me to park our asses on the bench and watch it all go down. “Nice jersey.” I smirk.
“I have to admit, the ladies killed it.” He nods. “Coolest second birthday party ever.”
“Right? And I thought hiring Bluey for his first birthday was going to be the best of the best.” I laugh.
“Just wait, soon it will be expensive electronics and cars. Be careful letting the ladies have carte blanche with your credit card as he gets older,” he jokes.
“Can we not talk about my son turning into a mouthy teenager? He’s going to stay young and sweet,” I quip.
“Keep telling yourself that, Daddy Sin.” He chuckles.
Foster and I shoot the shit about the upcoming season, we rib the guys for acting a fool as they take turns sliding with Camden down the slide, and we both try to steal Coral from her daddy, but she’s not having it. Before I know it, over an hour has passed, and it’s time to go.
“Camden, are you ready to go to your birthday party?” I call out to my son.
“Par-tay!” he says, mimicking Sloane from earlier.
“Damn, he’s talking more and more each day,” Foster comments.
“He is, and he said it just like Sloane did earlier today. He’s really taken with her.”
“Kid’s got good taste,” he says. I whip my head around to look at him. “What? I might not be interested in her, but I’m not blind. To be honest, I’m shocked some asshole hasn’t snatched her up yet. Sloane is good people,” he comments.
“She is.” I nod, swallowing back the bite in my tone that wants to surface at the thought of Foster checking her out.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Cam, buddy, how old are you?” Landry asks my son as they approach us. Camden is smiling in his arms, his face red and sweaty from the sun and all the playing he did with his uncles.
“Swide.” Camden points behind us.
“Cam, say I’m two.” I hold up two fingers, and Landry helps him do the same.
“Two,” he repeats, then points back to the slides. “Swide.”
“No can do, kiddo. We have to go home for the party.”
“Swoan.” He nods like it’s his final choice, as if he has a say in the matter.
“That’s right, Sloane, Aunt Corie, Aunt Rowan, Aunt Bellamy, and Amanda will all be there, too.” That gets his attention, and I’m able to pull him away from his uncles and strap him back into his car seat so we can spend the rest of the day celebrating him with our family.
“That’s the coolest cake ever,” Landry says, staring down at the jersey-shaped cake with the number 2 and Team Camden written on it, just like the ones we’re all wearing. “Where did you find that?” he asks his wife.
“Oh, we didn’t. Sloane made them.”
“What?” I ask. “Sloane made the cake?”
“Both of them,” Rowan says again.
“There are two of them?” I ask, still processing that Sloane made the cake, and it’s damn good.
“Yes. She made a smaller one just for Cam. Look.” She moves to the other side of the kitchen and returns with a small white cake box. Sure enough, inside, there’s a tiny replica of the cake sitting on the counter.
“Damn,” I mutter. Not only am I impressed, but I feel a warmth in my chest knowing she would go through so much trouble for my son. That had to have taken her hours, and most of her time was spent with us this week, which means she stayed up late each night to make it happen.
“She’s so talented,” Rowan praises. “You should see some of the things she’s made each of us—well, Corie, Bellamy, and me.” Rowan blushes.
“Nope. Nope. Nope.” Landry throws his arm over his wife’s shoulder, pulls her into his chest, and kisses her temple. “He will not be seeing that,” Landry says, his eyes wide.
“Okay, now, I want to see,” Foster says.
“Not happening,” Knox, Landry, and Reid all chorus at the same time.
“What’s not happening?” Corie asks, walking into the room.
“Nothing, Corie girl,” Knox says, snaking his arm around her waist.
“Fess up, Beckett.” She smiles up at him.
“Oh, I was just telling them how talented Sloane is because they were complimenting the cake. I told them they should see what she made us.” Rowan grins.
“Oh, it’s this—” Corie starts, but Knox places his hand over her lips.
“I think this birthday boy is losing steam,” Sloane says, entering the room with Camden on her hip. He’s resting his head against her shoulder.
He’s already had time at the park. We came back and immediately opened gifts and took what feels like a million pictures, at the insistence of the ladies present—not that I minded.
I want to have pictures to show him how loved he is when he’s old enough to really understand how many people are in his corner.
“I can take him,” I tell her, moving to take him from her arms, but she turns to stop me.
“He’s fine, Daddy. Carry on with whatever,” she says.
She glances around and sees the cake. “Cam, buddy, do you want some cake?” she asks my son.
“Cake?” He lifts his head and surveys the room. “Daddy, cake.”
“Do you want some birthday cake?” I ask him as Bellamy and Amanda join us in the kitchen.
“Swoan, cake,” he says, placing his tiny hands on her cheeks to get her attention.
“Guess what?” she says, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “You have one just for you.”
“Cam.” He points at his chest, and she beams a proud smile at him.
“That’s right.” She grins.
“Come on, bud. Let’s get you set up in your chair for some cake.
” Camden looks at Sloane almost as if he’s asking for permission.
She kisses his cheek and hands him off to me.
While I get him set up in his highchair, she grabs the smaller cake that’s just his and adds a number two candle, lighting it before carrying it our way.
“‘Happy Birthday—’” she starts to sing, holding the cake and the lit candle just out of his reach, but keeping it where he can see it, as we all join her in singing “Happy Birthday” to my boy.
When the song ends, she places the cake on the tray of his highchair and tells him to blow.
As I bend my head, she and I must have the same idea because we softly blow with him as the candle flame disappears, and we both praise him for doing such a great job.
My eyes find hers, and she smiles. It’s a genuine, happy smile, and it lights up the entire room.
Quickly, Sloane grabs the candle and places it on a small paper plate that Corie hands her. “Okay, little man, it’s all yours. Take a bite,” she encourages my son.
Camden grins and does as he’s told, grabbing a fistful of cake and shoving it into his mouth, and we all laugh.
“Smile!” Bellamy, who has been our official photographer for the day, says. She points her camera our way, and Sloane steps out of the picture.
“Stay,” I whisper, at the same time reaching out and placing my hand on her arm. “You’re a part of this day, Sloane.”
She nods and turns to crouch down next to Camden, while I do the same on the other side, and we smile for the camera. Once Bellamy is satisfied, we take a step back, letting everyone have a chance to get their picture with my messy cake-eating boy.
“Ladies,” I say, clearing my throat. “Thank you for today. It’s better than I could have ever dreamed up on my own. You made this day special for him, for both of us, and I can’t thank you enough,” I say, fumbling over my words.
“It was a group effort, and we were happy to help,” Bellamy tells me. “I can’t wait to get the pictures with all of us in our jerseys.” She beams.
“You and that fancy camera,” Amanda teases her.
“Hey, I’m a mom now. I need this fancy camera to capture all the moments, and the remote is nice for when it’s just the three of us at home, and I need to get us all in the shot. It came in handy today, too,” Bellamy says with excitement in her voice.
“I guess we’re going to need to get us one of those,” Knox tells Corie.
“I have one.” I shrug. “I don’t use it much because I’m not sure how. I mostly just use my phone.”
“I’ll show you,” Sloane tells me. “I took a photography class in college as an elective.”
“That’s how I learned how to operate mine,” Bellamy tells me.
I open my mouth to tell her that I’ll take her up on lessons, but I’m watching Foster and see his face go pale. “What?” I ask. He’s staring down at his phone. “Foster?”
He looks up at me, swallows hard, and shakes his head.
Instead of telling me, he hands me his phone.
Foster is one of those guys who keeps to himself a lot, so for him to be showing me what’s going on must mean it’s serious.
Taking the phone from his hands, I peer down at the screen, and my heart drops to my toes.
“No.” I shake my head. “No,” I say again.
“What? Oh, fuck,” Landry mutters.
I can’t even remind him to clean up his mouth because my world just tilted on its axis. This can’t be true, right? It’s got to be clickbait, some made-up headline. It has to be.
“Daddy, cake!” Camden cheers.
When I lift my eyes toward my son, I have to blink the tears away. It’s not just my life, but his that’s been altered if this is true. “I love you,” I tell him, because I need him to know that now more than ever. He doesn’t understand, but I do. I know what those three little words mean.
“Baker, man, what do you need?” Knox asks.
“It’s not true, right?” I look at Knox, then Landry, Reid, and finally Foster, whose phone I’m still gripping tightly in my fist. “Right?”
“I don’t know, brother, but we’ll find out,” Foster assures me.
Knox raises his phone to his ear, already in investigative mode, while all I can do is stand still, frozen in time, my heart breaking, not for me, but for my son.