33. Daire
33
DAIRE
Rosie and I haven’t found a nanny for Sammy yet, but we’re making it work. With graduation on the horizon, I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t even bother. The real world awaits us, sure, but we have time. We have money. So why not spend time with Sammy, at least for a little while? Maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t like being away from my son. He and Rosie have become my two favorite things in the entire world.
We’re still jumping through ridiculous hoops to get permanent legal custody of him. Since I wasn’t listed as his biological father on his birth certificate, the process is a complicated one. Regardless of DNA, things have to be handled in a certain way. Nina says I have nothing to worry about and to be patient. That’s hard, though.
After practice, I shower and change, then head out of the locker room to find Sammy. It’s become an after-practice tradition to hang out with him in the game tape room with the team.
When I step into the room, Sammy is babbling nonsense to Luke.
The big guy grins and mimics him.
“Hey.” Cree elbows my arm. “I’m mad at you.”
I arch a brow. “What for?” I rack my brain for a reason but come up empty. I’ve been on the straight and narrow for months. I’m a dad now. I have to set a good example for my kid.
“You asked Jude and Millie to babysit. What’s wrong with Ophelia and me?”
I wince, because yeah, I asked them. Rosie and I spent Valentine’s Day at home with Sammy, but I planned a little surprise for her for this weekend, which meant needing a sitter. Honestly, I considered asking Luke. The guy and I might not be best friends, but he’s a cool guy and really great with Sammy. In the end, though. I decided Jude and Millie were my best bet. Now that Jude’s with Millie, he’s about as mellow as they come—and fully obsessed with that girl—and Millie has experience babysitting, so it was a no-brainer to me.
I didn’t even entertain the idea of Cree and Ophelia, and that’s probably even worse.
“Millie has babysitting experience.” It’s a plausible enough excuse, right?
He arches a brow. “Did you ask me if I have any experience?”
“Well… no. Do you?”
“No,” he sighs. “Did you ask Ophelia?”
I scratch the side of my nose. “No.”
“You still don’t like her.” It’s a statement, not a question.
I shrug. “It’s not that I don’t like her, but I…” I press my lips together and weigh my reasoning. In the past, I wouldn’t have even stopped to consider if my words would hurt my friend, but I’ve matured enough recently to hesitate.
“Just say it,” he mutters.
“You weren’t there for me when I needed you, so I guess I’m not used to thinking of you first when something comes up. I’m sorry.”
Cree nods, solemn. “Fair enough. I really am sorry. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t take back anything with Ophelia, but if I could do it over again, I would’ve done whatever I could to help you out.”
“I know.”
I’ve forgiven him, I really have, but apparently my brain hasn’t moved on from the hurt his abandonment caused.
Coach pokes his head into the room, then. “Hendricks, just the guy I was looking for.”
My stomach sinks. I’m in for it after the way I stumbled during practice and had a nasty fall. It was a total rookie move, but he didn’t comment on it other than to yell about what a little bitch I am when it happened. He covered Sammy’s ears for the bitch part, otherwise I would’ve been pissed.
The sight of our burly, gruff coach wearing Sammy strapped to his chest at practice is one I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to.
“I got something for you,” he says, stepping into the room and holding out a box. “Well, for the little guy.”
Sammy lets out a giggle like he knows Coach is talking about him. He claps his hands, flashing his toothy smile.
I take the box from Coach as the guys near me lean in to see what it is.
With a quick look at Sammy, I lift the lid and set it on the floor. Inside is a baby-sized pair of skates.
Fuck.
I actually choke up.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and grit out, “Wow, thanks, Coach.”
He nods once. “You’re welcome, kid.”
“We have to try them on him,” Justin says.
Luke holds Sammy out to me, so I take him and fit the skates onto his socked feet. They’re a perfect fit.
“That’s pretty cute,” Cree chuckles.
“Thanks again, Coach,” I say to the older man standing in the doorway watching us.
“Don’t mention it.” With a wave, he backs out of the room.
Sammy yawns and rubs at his eyes, so I quickly take the skates off and carefully put them back in the box.
“We better head out before this kid goes from cute and cuddly to angry and screaming.”
Cree laces his fingers behind his head. “I still can’t believe you’re a dad.”
I arch a brow at my best friend. “Dude, are you going to say that every time I see you?”
He grins back at me. “Yeah, at least until it sinks in.”
I shake my head. “Come over when he’s crying because he’s tired but won’t go to sleep, and then maybe it’ll be real for you.”
“Mm.” He tilts his head back, pretending to consider the idea. “I’ll pass.”
As I get Sammy buckled into his car seat, the guys disperse in a flurry of back slaps and hollers.
Once the little guy is secure, I pull out my phone and send a text to Rosie.
Me: Are you still on campus?
Rosie: Yeah, are you done with practice?
Me: Finished up and heading out. Do you want to get dinner out?
Rosie: Like pick it up and take it home?
Me: No, I mean actually go out to eat. As a family. We haven’t tried it out with Sammy yet.
She doesn’t respond right away, and I worry she doesn’t like the idea.
I’m almost to my car when she responds.
Rosie: Sorry, I ran into Bertie. She’s acting funny. But yes, sounds great. Where do you want to go?
Me: The Italian place in town?
Rosie: Yum. I’m in.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull into the lot of the restaurant. Sammy has babbled the entire way, playing with his feet and flailing his arms.
Rosie isn’t here yet, so I hop out and grab the diaper bag and quickly make Sammy a bottle. I packed a couple of jars of baby food as well that I can feed him in the restaurant if he gets fussy. Sitting in the back seat, I hunt for the socks he took off on the way—the kid seriously pulls them off each and every time he’s in the car—and take him out of his seat. Once he’s settled in my arms, he greedily takes the bottle, his chubby hands holding on.
I smile down at him, heart full, and soak in the quiet moment.
I thought my life was good before, but fuck, I didn’t know what—no, who—I was missing.
A knock on the window startles both of us. Sammy quickly smiles around his bottle, formula dribbling out of the side of his mouth, as Rosie presses the button to slide the door open. She climbs in, and my chest instantly goes tight. She’s so damn beautiful. Her cheeks are tinged pink from the wind and her eyes are bright.
“Good idea,” she says, nodding at the bottle.
“I figured it might save us some crying and screaming.”
Sammy’s about as easy as they come, but when he’s hungry, he’s not to be messed with—throw in the fact that he’s teething, and his meltdowns have the ability to escalate into disaster-level proportions.
When Sammy’s done, I pass him to Rosie and pack his bag up again. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I stupidly skipped lunch.
A fifteen-minute wait later, we’re seated at a table.
“Hi, I’m Rory. I’ll be your waitress this evening.”
I look up at that, smiling. “Hey, Rory.”
Aurora, better known as Rory, is dating Mascen, a buddy of mine who graduated last year. I haven’t seen her around much, but frankly, I haven’t been hanging around in my usual haunts. A lot has changed for me this year.
“Oh, hi, Daire.” She smiles. “Rosie. And look at this cutie.”
“This is Sammy,” I say proudly, smiling at my son in the highchair.
“Do you guys know what you want to drink?”
We both opt for water, and Rory goes off to get those and a basket of breadsticks.
“I don’t know what I want,” Rosie whines over the menu. “Everything sounds good.” Sammy giggles at that, and she smiles over at him. “Did you think that was funny?”
He laughs again, smacking his hands against the table.
“How is it that everything he does is cute?” Rosie asks me.
I shrug nonchalantly. “That’s my half of the DNA hard at work.”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “I should’ve expected that.”
When Rory returns with our waters and a basket of breadsticks, she pulls out her order pad. “Have you guys decided what you want?” She lifts both brows as she digs in her apron and pulls out a pen. “And please, for the love of God, don’t order the steak. Mascen always gets it just to mess with me. It’s an Italian restaurant. I highly recommend sticking with the pasta.”
My lips twitch at her sass. She’s literally exactly what Mascen Wade needs to keep him in line.
Rosie laughs, closing the menu. “No worries. We’re definitely not here for steak.”
“Have you decided yet?” She clicks her pen.
Rosie’s lips twist back and forth. “I think I’ll go with the carbonara.”
“Excellent choice. And for you?” Rory sizes me up like she expects mischief.
“The lasagna.”
“Mid-choice, but I accept it.” She winks.
I shake my head at her antics.
When she walks away, I text Mascen.
Me: Your girlfriend is giving me a hard time. I see why you’re perfect for each other.
It’s comical how fast Mascen replies.
Mascen: Why are you with my girlfriend?
Me: Calm down, jackass. I’m getting dinner with my wife.
Mascen: Dude. I heard you got married, but I didn’t quite believe it. Also heard you’ve got a pet?
Me: A pet?
Mascen: Your spawn.
Me: Yep, and he’s just as cute as I am.
I snap a picture of Sammy’s drooly smile and send it to Mascen.
Mascen: Don’t stay there too long or Rory will start asking me when we’re having one.
Mascen: Make sure to tip her well, or else.
I chuckle to myself and tuck my phone away.
“What was that about?” Rosie asks, dipping a breadstick in marinara.
“Just texting Mascen.”
“Ah.” She nods, taking a bite. After she chews and swallows, she says, “I guess he told you to get away from his girlfriend?”
“Yep. How’d you know?” I ask jokingly.
Her eyes dance as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “It’s Mascen.”
Sammy lets out an excited scream just then, causing a few heads to turn our direction. Enthused by the interest, he does his new favorite thing and blows a raspberry.
This kid.
He’s already the biggest flirt. I’m going to have my hands full as he gets older.
“I’m really worried about Bertie,” Rosie says, bringing my attention back to her.
Resting my elbows on the table, I lean forward, frowning. They haven’t really been hanging out lately, but I figured it was because they’re both so busy. Graduation is fast approaching, and just about every free minute of Rosie’s life has been consumed by Sammy and me.
“Do you think she’s upset about something?”
I’m not quite sure what kind of wisdom I could impose on this situation, but I’ll try my best if that’s what she wants.
She shakes her head, tearing a chunk of breadstick off. “No, I don’t think it’s that. But she’s avoiding me. I’m worried about her.”
I reach out and cup my hand over one of hers. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
She hums in response, but she doesn’t look convinced.
“She could be stressed about finals and all that has to be done before graduation.”
“Maybe, but I feel like it’s something more. I’m going to have ambush her.”
“Ambush her?” I repeat with a laugh.
“Yeah, show up at the dorm with snacks and movies so she’s forced to let me in. Her favorite wine too.”
“Do you think she’ll go for it?”
Rosie waves a dismissive hand. “If she really doesn’t want to see me, then she’s going to have to give me a plausible excuse.”
I just shrug, because frankly, I’m at a loss. I don’t know Bertie well enough to understand her motivation for avoiding Rosie. The whole thing does feel a bit weird, but I’m not about to delve into Rosie’s business with her friend.
When our food comes out, my stomach rumbles with approval.
“Let me know if you guys need anything else.”
“We’re good for now,” I tell Rory.
Rosie points her fork at her carbonara. “I’m convinced pasta could save the world if it wanted to.”
I suppress an amused smile. “You think so, huh?”
She twirls her noodles around the fork and holds it up in front of her. “I know so.” Sammy darts a hand out and snags a noodle from her plate. “See? He agrees.”
I extract the noodle from his closed fist. “Mhm, I’m sure that’s exactly what he was doing. It has nothing to do with him being a baby and grabbing anything he can get his hands on.”
Rosie juts her bottom lip out in a pout. “Don’t mock me.”
“I’d never dream of it.”
After dinner, we head home in our separate cars. It comes as no surprise that Sammy drifted off on the way, but it doesn’t bode well for our bedtime routine.
“Aw, look at him,” Rosie says, coming up beside me in the driveway. “God, what I would give to sleep like a baby.”
I laugh at that. Rosie is a wild sleeper, constantly rolling from side to side and taking the covers with her when she does. I’ve learned to sleep under my own blanket.
As I unlatch the car seat, Sammy stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up.
“I think I’m going to skip bath time,” I tell her, heading for the door.
She unlocks it and steps inside, then holds it for me. “Are you sure?”
We give Sammy a bath every night. I read somewhere that establishing routine helps a child feel secure, and since Sammy’s whole life was upended overnight, it seemed important.
It still makes me sick thinking about him being in that car—how easily I could’ve lost my son for good before I ever got to know him.
“I guess it depends on him,” I hedge.
Rosie nods, dropping her purse to the counter. “If you’re okay on your own, I’m going to shower.”
“I’ve got it handled,” I assure her.
She leans in, giving me a quick kiss. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Hand on her waist, I pull her in again for a deeper kiss.
It still blows my mind that I get to kiss this woman any time I want. “I love you too.”
I head up with Sammy while she puts our leftovers in the fridge and set the car seat carefully on the floor beside the changing table.
Once I’ve got him unbuckled, I ease him out of the straps, but as I lift him out, he gives an annoyed grunt, and his eyes fly open. From there, the screaming sets in.
I internally cringe. I tried so hard not to wake him, but it was futile. “Sorry, bud.”
He continues to cry, bottom lip shaking.
Holding him close with one arm, I sway from side to side and snag a set of pajamas so they’re ready for afterward. Then I carry him into the bathroom.
Bath it is.
The kid loves bath time, so with any luck, this will calm him down.
I turn on the water, checking to make sure it’s the right temperature, and wait for the tub to fill before I undress him. While the kid loves baths, he doesn’t like the whole getting naked part.
His screaming intensifies once his clothes are off, but the second I get him settled onto the bath support, he calms down. As he hiccups, looking pitiful, I wet a washcloth and lay it over his chest to keep him warm.
Using the sleepy time soap, I wash him up with another cloth, making sure to clean beneath his chin and the rolls of his skin.
Finally, he smiles and kicks at the water, splashing me.
“Did you get Daddy wet?”
He giggles in response.
“Ooh, sounds dirty.”
I turn at the sound of Rosie’s voice. “Oh? I thought you were showering.”
She shrugs, one hand on the doorframe. “I decided to wait for you.”
I try—and fail—to hide my smile.
If I could spend every second of the day buried inside Rosie, it still wouldn’t be enough, but between Sammy and finishing up our degrees, we’re tired… a lot. Which means sex isn’t happening as often as either of us would like.
“Don’t look so smug.” She steps into the room and pokes the side of my neck where she knows I’m ticklish.
I lift a shoulder, shrugging her off with a laugh. “I can’t be excited about getting my girl alone in the shower?”
“Well, when you put it like that.” She sticks her tongue out at me.
When Sammy’s clean and calm, I wrap him in a towel and pass him to Rosie so she can dry him and lotion him while I clean up the bathroom. Since I let Sammy splash around so much—he’s a baby; he’s allowed to have some fun even if it makes a mess—I typically have to dry the edge of the tub and the floor around it when we’re finished.
Back in Sammy’s room, Rosie is already zipping up his jammies. She’s talking to him in a soft, soothing voice, but I can’t make out the words from the doorway. She’s in her own little world and hasn’t noticed that I’m done yet. Holding him to her chest, she settles in the rocking chair and sings, her voice soft and raspy. Sammy looks up at her with an adoring expression.
I never in a million years believed it was possible for my heart to feel so full—near bursting at times.
By the time she finishes the song, Sammy’s out like a light. She looks up, smiling when she sees me in the doorway.
Somehow, in the blink of an eye, I got everything I didn’t know I needed.
Sammy and Rosie changed my life in the best possible way.
With a steadying breath in, I cross the room and dip low to kiss her forehead.
Silently, she gets up and deposits him in the crib.
Together, we tiptoe out of the room and ease the door shut behind us.
We wait, counting to ten before we shuffle to our room.
What was once solely hers has now become our space. Admittedly, I kind of forced my way in. I was tired of not sleeping with my wife.
Rosie turns the shower on in our bathroom while I lean against the counter and turn on the baby monitor.
“Would you ever want to do that?”
She looks over her shoulder at me. “What do you mean?”
“Have another kid?”
“Um…” She turns away to pull her towel from the bar. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it much, but yeah, maybe in a few years.” She turns back to me, her lip caught between her teeth. “Another could be nice, but let’s make sure we can keep this one alive first. Deal?”
I laugh, holding my hand out to shake on it. “Deal.”
With her hand still clasped in mine, I pull her into me, covering her mouth with mine.
I’ve been waiting all day to kiss her.
She melts into me as I slide my hands under her shirt. We stay like that, slowly exploring one another’s mouths, for a long moment. Then she pulls back and raises her arms so I can pull the fabric over her head.
Groaning, I kiss the skin of her neck.
I don’t know what kind of perfume she wears, but it’s intoxicating—soft and sweet and slightly floral.
Hands on my cheeks, she pulls me back to her lips.
Fuck, I can’t get enough of her.
We take our time getting undressed. There’s something special about being unhurried, appreciating every second.
The spray is perfectly warm when we finally make it into the shower.
Water sluices down Rosie’s body, tempting me to follow a drop between her breasts with my tongue. Once I reach her belly button, I work my way back up and circle her nipple.
Moaning, she bows into my body. “Daire.” My name is a whimper on her lips.
“Hmm?” I hum, gripping her hips. My cock hardens, pressing into her stomach.
“Please.”
“Please, what?” I grab her chin, holding her still as I kiss her.
She pulls back and licks water from her lips. “Please fuck me.”
I don’t have to be told twice.
With a hand behind one thigh, then the other, I guide them around my waist and lift her, making sure to keep her back pressed against the tile.
Guiding my cock to her entrance, I push in about an inch and pause, knowing how wild it’ll make her.
“Daire, so help me God, don’t tease me right now.”
Amusement laces my voice when I say, “My needy girl.”
I slide in all the way, swallowing her moan with my mouth, relishing how incredible it is to be buried in her wet heat. Her pussy clenches around me, and since it’s been days since I’ve been inside her, I find myself dangerously close to the edge already.
“Fuck, Rosie. You feel so good.”
She grabs my cheeks between her hands and kisses me. “Shut up and fuck me.”
I don’t have to be told twice.
By the time we leave the shower, the water has turned cold. I drag her into bed without letting her get into her pajamas, despite her protests.
I’ve barely got her tucked into my body when sleep takes me.