Chapter Three
Spike
I stand in the hallway, half-hidden in the shadows, watching Emma handle bedtime like she’s been doing it for years instead of a few weeks. Charlie, who usually takes forever to settle down, is curled up on her lap as she reads a book in her calm, soothing voice. Sam’s perched on the edge of the bed, hanging on every word.
It’s a scene I’ve seen before, but tonight it’s making me feel things I’m not ready to admit to myself. Emma understands the boys, their moods, and their quirks. Emma’s not just handling them; she’s connecting with them.
I cross my arms, leaning against the wall as I listen to her finish the story. Charlie’s already half-asleep, his little fingers clutching her sleeve. Sam’s eyes are drooping, but he’s fighting it, determined to stay awake just a little longer. When Emma tucks them both in, murmuring softly, a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying starts to lift.
But then my feelings shift into something else. Something complicated.
The truth is, Emma is so much more than I thought she’d be. I hired her because I needed someone to help, someone who could step in where I’ve been falling short. I didn’t expect her to be so much more. She’s caring, patient, and so damn beautiful. That last one? That’s the one I’m really trying to ignore.
I clear my throat as she steps out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She startles slightly when she sees me, her hand over her chest. “You scared me,” she whispers, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Sorry,” I mutter, straightening up. “Didn’t mean to.”
“Everything okay?” she asks, tilting her head.
I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. Just wanted to say thanks. You’re really good with them.”
Her smile widens, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. “They’re great kids,” she says simply. “You’re doing a good job with them, you know.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “Feels like I’m barely keeping it together most the time.”
“That’s parenting,” she replies with a shrug. “But they’re happy, Spike. That counts for a lot.”
“It was so much easier when I was just their goofy Uncle Spike, who spoiled them rotten. Now, everything I do, I have to think about how it’s going to affect the boys.” I glance back at the closed door, my chest tightening. “I hate leaving them,” I admit quietly. “When I’m on the road, it’s all I think—whether they’re okay, if they’re missing me, or if they’re afraid I won’t come back like their parents. If I could, I’d bring them with me everywhere.”
Emma’s expression softens. “That must be hard.”
“It is,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “We’ve got a stretch of road games coming up. I leave tomorrow. A week away from home. Are you sure you’re ready to be alone with the boys twenty-four hours a day? It’s only been a week, and everyone is still adjusting. The guys’ wives will check in, but it’s not the same.”
“The guys’ wives?” she asks, her curiosity evident.
“Yeah,” I say, leaning against the wall again. “Ryan’s wife, Paisley, she’s like the team mom. Always checking in, making sure everyone’s taken care of. Which is hilarious when you get to know Paisley and her dislike of most people. Simon’s wife, Tuesday, is a little crazy, so she’s great with the boys. And Duke’s wife, Tilly, she’s got a way of making everything fun. They’ve been a huge help since…” I trail off, the words sticking in my throat.
“Since the accident,” Emma finishes softly, her eyes full of understanding.
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. They’ve stepped up in ways I can never thank them enough for. But it still feels wrong, you know? Like I should be the one here, not leaning on everyone else. Isn’t that why Tyler entrusted me with his kids?”
Emma reaches out, her hand brushing my arm lightly. The touch is brief but grounding. “You’re doing the best you can, Spike. And it’s okay to accept help. That’s what friends are for.”
I glance down at her hand before she pulls it back. I wish she was still touching me. “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “I know.”
The silence stretches between us, but it isn’t awkward. There’s a pull between us that just feels good to sit with. I clear my throat again, regrettably breaking the hold this feeling has on me. “I should, uh, let you get some rest. It’s a long day tomorrow.”
“Right,” she says, stepping back. “Goodnight, Spike.”
“Night, Emma.”
I watch her walk away, the soft sound of her footsteps fading as she disappears down the hall. For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the empty space she left behind. Then I turn back toward the boys’ room, cracking the door open just enough to peek inside. They’re both asleep, their little faces peaceful in the glow of the nightlight. Charlie’s still clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, and Sam has one arm slung over his pillow.
I step back and head to my room, but sleep feels a long way off. Instead, I sit on the edge of my bed, pulling out my phone to shoot a quick message to Paisley. She’s always been the one to coordinate things, so I let her know Emma’s settling in and that the boys seem to like her already. Her reply is almost immediate.
PAISLEY : That’s great! You deserve someone who can really help, Spike. And don’t worry, we’ve got your back while you’re on the road.
I stare at the screen for a moment before typing back.
Me: Thanks. Couldn’t do this without you guys.
Her response is a heart emoji, and I can’t help but smile. The team’s wives are something else. They’ve made meals, babysat, and even helped me navigate preschool enrollment for Sam. And while I’m grateful, it’s still hard to shake the feeling that I should be able to handle this on my own.
But watching Emma tonight, seeing how natural she is with the boys, I start to think maybe it’s okay to lean on someone else for more than just the day-to-day stuff. Maybe it’s okay to let her in for the emotional stuff too.
Even if it scares the hell out of me.