Chapter 12
twelve
. . .
Riley
A man in a Boston Grizzlies hoodie stops us in the middle of the Common. “Gonzo!”
Al slows his pace, offering a friendly smile to him. “Hey!”
I wish I could say this is a surprise, but after the third stranger accosted us, I stopped keeping track.
We can’t go more than a few feet before someone else approaches us.
Al isn’t wearing any identifying apparel, so how these people recognize him is beyond me.
On TV, he simply looks like a beard and a helmet.
Every single person, he gives them his undivided attention. Not once has he said to leave us alone. He treats them like they’re special, like they deserve access to him at all times. Doesn’t he want a break? It’s his day off. He should be allowed to have downtime.
He chats with the fan, his eyes flicking down to Emmy every few moments.
Always watching, always protective. She’s content in her stroller, surrounded by warm blankets.
A chilly breeze kicks up, the wind rustling through the trees.
In typical Emmy fashion, she jerks her feet, dislodging her blanket and a tiny bootie.
Without pausing his conversation, Al reaches into the stroller and fits the shoe back onto her foot.
Why is him being a competent, caring father so charming?
“I didn’t know you had a kid,” the man says. He glances down into the stroller. “Hi, baby.”
“Yep,” Al clips out, his tone a tad strained. “We try to keep her out of the spotlight.”
The stranger looks between us, no doubt wondering who I am. I guess he presumes I’m the baby’s mother, which makes me uncomfortable.
For all intents and purposes, I am now. But Carter was her mom. And she’ll never get the chance to know her.
Emmy wails, and Al gives a forced laugh. Maybe he doesn’t like interacting with his fans, either. “Gotta take care of this. Nice meeting you, man.”
The fan waves as we walk away, and after a few paces of movement, Emmy calms down. She sucks on her fists with a serious expression, her brown eyes trained on her father.
“You’re certainly popular,” I comment blandly while we make our second loop of the park.
“Part of the job.” He steers us to a nearby bench, then pulls Emmy from the stroller, wrapping her in his arms. Giggling, she smacks her sticky hands on his cheeks, and he grins. “Do you know why they call me Gonzo?”
“I’m guessing because your last name is Gonzales.”
“Nope. Because I look like a Muppet.” A short, sarcastic laugh rumbles from his throat. “I’ve got the eyes and nose of a puppet. That, and when I was younger, I flopped around on the ice.”
I grin. “I like your eyes.” They look just like Emmy’s.
“But not my nose?” He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, his mouth twitching.
“I mean…”
His bark of laughter makes me giggle, filling me with a sudden burst of joy. But I wasn’t lying. He has a big, honking nose that’s clearly been broken more than once.
He sets an arm on the park bench behind me, his body radiating warmth. I scoot a little closer, trying to steal some of his heat.
“Cold?” he murmurs.
“Just a bit.”
His arm slips from the bench to curl around me, tugging me into his side. The familiar scent of his soap washes over me, making my gut clench and my heart skip a beat. That’s a weird reaction to have. Maybe I’m coming down with something.
Emmy squeals, reaching for me, and I pull her onto my lap to give her a snuggle. She looks so cute with her little hat and pink cheeks, even if she did throw her mittens out of the stroller, directly into a puddle.
“She’s getting so big.” He catches her little fist with his index finger, and the sun glints off the white-gold band he wears. I’m struck by a bolt of possessiveness. He’s mine, and I’m his, and we belong to each other. On paper, that is. “It’s all happening so fast.”
“Yeah, she’ll be crawling any day now.”
“How are you holding up? Anything I can do?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“I heard Vanessa and Audrey came by. I should have arranged something for you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It was nice to be around other adults for a bit.”
I don’t have a support network here. Outside of Al, I don’t have anyone.
His arm tightens around me. “We’ll have to find you some new friends.”
“You don’t need to set up playdates for me.”
My scowl makes him laugh. “Noted. Maybe you can try some Mommy and Me meetups? Or Cari can babysit so you can go to Vanessa’s book club?”
I’m stuck on the suggestion. “I’m not a mom, though.”
Al nudges me. “You are.”
“Carter’s her mother.”
“But you’re her mom. You’re the one doing the work, day in and day out.” He pauses. “And technically, she’s your stepdaughter now. That makes you Mom.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I admit.
“I don’t want to push you into a label you’re not comfortable with. But you belong in those spaces. It’s just a matter of whether you want to be there.”
“Vanessa was telling me how Sven takes Leo to the pool. I thought that might be fun.” Nerves swarm in my stomach, and I bite my lip. “I didn’t learn how to swim until I was an adult. I don’t want that for her.”
“We’ll take her,” he promises. “We can all go together.”
“You want to come with us?” I think of Al shirtless, his ripped, muscular body on display as he treads water with his baby in his arms, and my heart beats a little faster. Is it wrong to wish my husband weren’t as gorgeous as he actually is?
“We’re a family now,” Al says. He catches my gaze, maintaining eye contact. “However this all happened, we’re married, we’re raising a baby together. We should spend some time together.”
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
He laughs. “I’m not propositioning you. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. Nobody has to know what goes on behind closed doors. But it will look odd if we are never seen together.”
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say.
“There’s a matinee game on Saturday. Some of the wives and partners bring the kids.” His throat works as he swallows. “I… I’d like it if Emmy were there.”
“Vanessa told me. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go public with… everything.” A violent shiver shakes my frame, but with Emmy on my lap, I can’t put my hands in my pockets. Hastily, I tuck them under her blankets.
Turning on the bench, Al tucks me further against his side, rubbing his hand over my upper arm to keep me warm.
“To the outside world, you’re Emmy’s mom,” he murmurs.
“If you want me to tell the world about Carter, I will. But if you’re okay with it, when people start asking, all I want to say is that I’ve married the mother of my child.
Because to me, that’s who you are. You’re Emmy’s mom in both name and act.
I can’t bring Carter back. All we can do is move forward. ”
“I don’t want to lie to her.” My eyes well up with tears when I think of my sister. “I don’t want to erase her.”
“And when Emmy’s old enough, we’ll tell her all about Carter. I will never erase her birth mother,” he promises. “I’m talking about what we say when this gets out. You and me.”
“I thought your agent made a plan?” That was the deal; he makes the plan, and I follow through. There wasn’t anything on the brief that I disagreed with, at least not enough to back out of this thing.
“Yeah, but I want to run it by you. It’s more than only me impacted now.”
“My social media is locked down, I deleted any inappropriate photos, and I’m… well, prepared isn’t the right word, but I’m resigned to this. The partner of the hockey player thing.”
Al chuckles. “Resigned?”
Shrugging, I pull my coat tighter around me. “I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want the attention. All I want is Emmy.”
“You’ve got her. Even if—when—we get divorced, you’ll still have her.” His eyes meet mine. “She’s yours as much as she is mine.”
I shake my head. “I can’t take her away from you.”
He nudges me again, my arm lighting up from the contact. I guess I was colder than I thought. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me, then.”
“Guess so.”
But somehow… that doesn’t feel so scary anymore. We’ve survived the first month of being coparents. Maybe this will work out after all.
Emmy squirms in my arms, trying to take off her booties. When I cover her foot with my hand, she squeals with frustration.
“We should get her inside where it’s warm,” I say, getting to my feet and settling her in the stroller.
Al takes the handle, pushing her along the path. Emmy babbles at us, tucked into her blankets again. When we get to the car, he gets her into the car seat, then rounds the SUV and opens my door for me.
“Thanks,” I mutter, my stomach fluttering.
“Do you want to head home?” he asks. “Or how do you feel about lunch?”
“I could eat. I brought a bottle and a pouch for her.” Glancing in the rearview mirror, I find she’s content in the back seat. “I’m game if you are.”
The grin he sends me makes my heart thump loudly in my chest, so I focus on the road ahead. I can not have a crush on my husband. No. That’s against the rules. Nothing can ever happen between us. I can’t go back on our deal.
Al shifts the car into gear. “I know just the place.”