Epilogue
Harper, three years later
I close my planner and sigh softly, rolling my shoulders.
The laughter upstairs has quieted, telling me that bath time is over—and likely that there’s water everywhere.
Reed loves taking baths.
But he might love splashing water outside of the tub even more.
Lips twitching, I stow my planner away, put my pens in the little cup I keep on the island for that express purpose.
Then I go to the fridge and pour myself a glass of milk.
And, horror of all horrors, I move to the cookie jar and snag an oatmeal raisin cookie.
“Ah-ha, caught red-handed.”
I freeze, my fingers around the delicious (because I baked it) confection.
Then I turn toward my husband and lift my chin, still holding the cookie. “Pretty ballsy to tease the person whose job it is to make your favorite treat.”
He moves over to me, all loose-limbed strength.
Heat blooms in my belly and it takes every bit of my control to stay in place, to not launch myself at him.
God, he’s sexy.
“If you didn’t make my favorite treat,” he says, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and tugging my arm up so he can take a bite of my—my!—cookie. “Then you also wouldn’t have your favorite pregnancy craving.”
The baby in my belly kicks, as though agreeing with him.
And, hell, the universe has a sense of humor.
Because Leo isn’t lying.
I’ve wanted oatmeal raisin cookies from the moment the plus sign first showed up on the test.
“Here,” I say, shoving the half-eaten cookie at him with a mock scowl. “It’s got cooties now.”
He smirks. “You just want to get the biggest cookie in the jar.”
“No way.” I reach my hand in then pull it out with a flourish. “I wanted the two biggest cookies in the jar.”
He grins and pretends to reach for my arm again, but he’s just using it as an excuse to draw me closer to him, to kiss his way down my neck. “How’re you feeling, Mama?” He touches my belly. “How’s my little girl doing?”
“Our son,” I say dryly, continuing our lighthearted argument on gender that’s gone on for the last nine months, “is protesting the confines of my uterus. I’m ready to push this baby out and put us both out of our misery.
” I grin, rub the spot the baby’s just kicked.
“What about our other son? How much of the water stayed in the tub?”
Laughter rumbling in his chest. “I see you’ve missed the state of my clothes.”
“I most certainly did not…oh,” I finish. I’d been so busy watching him walk toward me and appreciating the way his body looked when he moved, I had missed the state of his clothes.
As in they’re soaking wet.
And plastered to his body.
Yum.
“Oh?” he asks archly.
“Yes.” I’m suddenly not hungry for cookies. “Oh.”
“Hmm.” He dips his head and kisses me, hot and sleek and long.
He tastes of cinnamon and raisins, oatmeal and Leo. His arms wrap tightly around me, the wetness of his clothes sinking into mine, but I don’t mind.
Because his body is hot and strong and mine.
And because when he holds me, it feels like coming home.
At least until he snatches the cookies from my hand.
“Hey!” I say, tearing my lips away from his. “Those are—”
I feel a pop and gasp.
“Harp?” he asks as we both look down at my wet pajamas. “Is that from me?”
“No,” I whisper, my eyes going wide.
He cups my cheeks, tilts my head up. “Fuck, I love you.”
“I love—” Pain ripples through my belly.
“I’ll call Lainey,” he says when the contraction fades and he’s helping me upstairs so we can both change our clothes. “She and Sawyer are on standby.”
I nod.
Then have to pause and breathe through another contraction.
His hand settles on my back, rubbing slowly.
“They’ll be here in five,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you loaded in the car.”
We make our way downstairs, and luckily, Lainey and Sawyer really are on standby. They walk into the garage with a sleepy Ollie holding tight to Sawyer’s hand.
Lainey spreads a towel out on the passenger’s seat and helps me buckle in.
She hugs me. “You’ve got this, Mama.”
“Thanks for staying with Reed.”
“Are you kidding?” she says. “Ollie is excited to have a sleepover at Leo’s house.”
I chuckle.
Because Leo is still his favorite.
After Sawyer, of course.
Lainey took a little longer to warm up to the Grizzlies star, but it all worked out in the end.
I wince as another contraction hits.
“Go,” she says when it’s over. “We’ve got this end of things.”
A minute later, Leo and I are on the road, and less than a half hour after that, we’re at the hospital and settling into our room.
The contractions come fast and furious, Leo strokes my brow, holds my hand as I get my epidural.
And two hours after that?
I’m pushing out my baby girl.
Wrong again.
But in the best possible way.
“Hi, Skye,” Leo murmurs, brushing his hand over her tiny head. “Happy Birthday.”
I smile tiredly. “You were right.”
“And you were amazing.” He kisses my forehead. “As usual.”
Our eyes connect and hold, and a thousand emotions seem to flow between us—incandescent joy, love, disbelief that we somehow made this beautiful human together, hope and elation and so, so much more.
“How is this our life?” I whisper.
Right on cue, Skye lets out a wail.
I laugh and Leo cups my cheeks, brushes his lips over mine, and smiles.
“Because we found the courage to trust in the beauty of forever.”
Sawyer
I don’t know why I’m here, propping up the wall at Faye’s book signing.
Of course, that’s also a lie.
I know exactly why.
It’s because I’m hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Of Lainey.
Only, she’s not among the women sitting here, entranced by Faye and all of her sweetness, her cleverness, her kindness as she answers questions, as she signs books and talks to her readers.
For as shy as she is, Faye’s really good at making everyone feel welcome and calm.
Then again, I already know that.
Have seen the women of the Grizzlies do that time and again.
First Luna. Then Faye. Then Harper. And now—
“My woman is the shit,” I hear and turn to Gray, whose gaze is glued to his woman, pride shining brightly on his face.
“Yeah, she is,” I agree.
But I’m not paying attention.
Because there’s movement down the hall behind him and my pulse is speeding through my veins and…
Fuck, Lainey is beautiful.
Dark curls flowing down her back, sumptuous curves I want to stroke. Kissable lips, sexy brown eyes. Hell, even her nose is beautiful.
And adorable.
I want to kiss the tip of it then press my lips to her forehead, to her jaw, to find out if kissing the spot behind her ear makes her shiver and melt against me—
“Lainey,” Gray says, jarring me out of my thoughts and shifting in front of me, pulling her into a hug.
And something else I want?
To fucking murder him for daring to touch her.
Especially with she pulls back and doesn’t move to hug me, just smiles shyly as she tucks a curl behind her ear—or tries to, anyway. Because it springs free and, fuck, what I wouldn’t give to feel that strand of hair.
Trailing over my naked skin.
“Hi,” she murmurs.
“Hey,” I rasp and Gray’s head whips in my direction, his lips twitching, the fuck.
A pause.
“Right, um, well.” She slants a look over at Faye. “I’m already late, I should go say hi.”
“What are you doing, man?” Gray mutters as I watch her walk away.
Yeah, I’m staring.
Yeah, it’s obvious.
“What?” I mutter back.
“She’s not for you.”
I whip toward him, glare. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.” A smirk. “Have you ever spent more than one night with a woman?”
Fucking nosy bastards, the entire lot of my teammates.
And anyway, I’ve spent more than one night with lots of women.
Sometimes two nights. Even three. Hell, there was that one time, it lasted five nights.
And the time I thought it would last for—
I slam the lid on the memories, lock eyes with my teammate. “That’s not any of your business.”
“Yeah?” His brows life. “Well, Lainey is, and she’s had it tough. She doesn’t need…”
“Doesn’t need what exactly?” I grind out.
“Someone who’s going to take advantage of her.”
Rage rises up inside me so quickly I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from throttling my asshole teammate.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss.
He just holds my gaze.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, glancing away, looking back at Lainey.
Christ, I know I’m no good for her. It’s why I’m propping up this wall still instead of following her over and charming my way into her bed. It’s why I haven’t done more than talk with her when I want to touch and kiss and stroke every inch of her luscious body.
“I only speak the truth.”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“That’s true enough.” Gray pushes off the wall and starts toward his woman, telling me over his shoulder, “And you’re only pissed because I’m right.”
I don’t reply, and I don’t follow him.
Because, asshole or not, he’s right.
Instead, I let myself have one more glimpse of her.
Then I leave.
Or I try to, anyway.
Oh, I get into my car, and I turn on the ignition, but I can’t make myself drive away. Not as the parking lot empties out. Not as Faye and Gray and the others leave. Not as Lainey comes out, a bag in one hand, a smile on her face, and—
“Fuck, no,” I growl, popping open the door and getting out.
The cool spring air clings to my face, but I barely feel it.
Because another asshole has his hands on Lainey.
“No!” she cries, swinging out with her bag.
The guy grunts right as I reach them and I grab his shoulder, shove him back. His eyes are crazed, something terrifying rippling across his face and he launches himself at me.
And suddenly, I’m fending off fists and a big body and trying not to hurt him.
Then I wonder why I’m bothering.
I cock back my arm and punch the fucker in the face.
He drops like a bag of rocks.
“Lainey—” I begin, immediately turning toward her. Only she’s not there. “What—?”
But, I realize a heartbeat later, she’s coming back with help, her phone glued to her ear.
“Are you okay?” she asks breathlessly.