Page 73 of Delay of Game

“I just mean, the girls will want to see you in the morning. And I can make breakfast,” I add lamely.Idiot. Why would she spend the night when she can sleep in her own bed across the hall?

“Where would I sleep?” she hedges, looking over at the couch.

“The couch is big enough, I just need to pull it open. I’ll grab some sheets.”

“Um, yeah. Okay,” she says, tucking her hair behind both ears.

“Really?” I ask in a daze. I didn’t actually expect her to say yes.

“Yeah. A sleepover. It will be fun.” She nods quickly, flashing me a small smile. “Plus, if Val wakes up in the middle of the night, I can just let you take care of her.”

I shake my head. “You just don’t want to do the hard work, I see.”

“Hey, kids are exhausting.”

“True. But they’re so cute.”

“Agreed,” she says, looking down at Valerie in her crib.

“Do you want kids some day?” I whisper as I pull the couch out and cover it with sheets.

Alice comes over to help and gives me a questioning look. “Of course. The more the merrier.”

“I think I would want at least three,” I say, surprising even myself. I’ve never thought much about having kids. At least not until I retired from hockey and realized that I don’t have muchgoing for me. Most guys in their early thirties already have a wife and kids, but I was always too focused on my career. And truthfully, I was always too in love with Alice to even notice anyone else.

“I think you’d be a great dad,” she says softly, laying down on one end of the couch, pulling the blanket we used as cushion on the floor earlier on top of her.

I grab a comforter from the linen closet and cover her with it instead. I think about saying something else—how she’d be a great mom, how I wish for her to have the best in life, even if that’s not me. But when I bend down to whisper it, her eyes are closed and her breathing is even.

She’s asleep.

My hand reaches out and brushes the hair off her forehead. Leaning in, I press a lingering kiss to her warm skin. “I think I’d be even greater with you by my side,” I whisper at her temple.

CHAPTER 27

December

Alice

I wake up inside a furnace.Or is it a sauna? I feel a bead of sweat rolling down the bridge of my nose and I scrunch it a few times. I try to move my arm, but it’s stuck in the heavy blanket I’m cocooned under.

The blanket moves and I?—

Wait,the blanket moves? My eyes fly open and the first thing I notice is a silver necklace resting against a white shirt. The same white shirt Jordan was wearing last night while we had a movie marathon and took care of the girls.

My nose is precariously close to the hollow spot at his throat, and I can feel every breath he inhales and exhales, ruffling what I’m sure is an incredible case of bed hair. My eyelids flutter closed once more as I bask in the closeness. Jordan’s arms are around me, one draped over my shoulder, the other pinned under me.

This can’t possibly be comfortable for him. I should move. I should put some distance between us, not just because I’m overheated, but because I told myself I wouldn’t do this again. It’s bad enough for my bruised-up heart that I’ve let him in again, even just as a friend.

But we have never been able to be just friends. From the moment I met him, I knew I was going to fall head over heels in love with him. And I think deep down, he knew it too. This thing between us is too raw, too real. It’s stolen glances at the dinner table and subtle touches between friends. It’s fond memories at the cabin and hot kisses in the snow. It’s steady hands on my waist and warm lips against my forehead. It’s ordinary moments made extraordinary by the man holding me.

I blink back the tears that threaten to spill and burrow myself deeper, enjoying this moment for as long as I can. I don’t know where we stand anymore, but I do know that my attraction to Jordan is still as strong as ever.

Valerie’s soft cries pull me out of my comfortable nap, and I gently push back on Jordan’s chest to check on her. He turns on his back but doesn’t wake up and I breathe a sigh of relief, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness of waking up tangled in each other and having to—god forbid—talk about it.

My niece’s face is pinched with big fat tears at the corners of her eyes, and I pull her into my arms, hugging her tight. “What’s wrong, baby? Were you lonely?” I ask quietly. After a quick diaper change and a bottle, she’s all smiley and happy once more. It’s astounding how much she takes after Olivia. She, too, is hangry most of the time.

I place her in the high chair I brought over from my apartment last night and peek into Jordan’s bedroom to check on the girls. They’re both still asleep and sprawled out in the king-sized bed. I smile and pull the blanket up to cover them. Mygaze snags on a picture on Jordan’s nightstand and my fingers involuntarily reach out to grab it.

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