Page 122 of Crazy Love

I hold onto her arms and pull back to see her face better. “What?”

“I know, I know,” she hurries to say. “Forget it. I know it’s—” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

“But it’s not. It’s…I love this idea,” I say.

I think I’ve shocked her more than she’s shocked me. “You do?”

“Did you see how good both Sam and Winnie were with the little ones tonight?”

She nods. “Yes! And they’ve both asked me if we’ll have babies soon. I’d thought they might not want us to…and I’d never want them to feel like they aren’t enough. I don’t want to rush it.” She sighs. “But they’ve said multiple times that they really want babies around here. Other than the kittens.”

We both laugh softly.

“And I’m finding I do really love being a mom,” she says softly.

Everything inside me turns to liquid heat when she says that.

“I never thought I’d be this guy.” I tug her closer. “But I’m having the time of my life with you, Addy. A baby…” I say in awe.

“We’ve lost our minds,” she finally says.

“At least we’ve lost them together.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

WITH GRATITUDE AND TURKEY

ADELINE

It’s hard not to let the guilt fester as I work through the insane week leading up to the Thanksgiving Day game. Friendsgiving last week was a nice break—good food, dear friends, and quality time with the kids and kittens. The kittens are the highlight of our lives. It’s so funny how you don’t even know how much you can love something until you’re surrounded by it. I’ve never eventhought of myself as a big animal person, but Jezebel and her babies…I am in love.

Sam named the two boys Gizmo and Shadow, and Winnie named the girl Elsa because, yeah…she’s still her favorite.

Now, though, I’m slammed. Long hours endlessly on my feet, and so much planning and food prepping that I think I’m doing it in my sleep.

The good part is that I have a plan worked out with Lorelai. Greer and Wyndham agreed to stay at the house to watch the kittens. Since it’s a holiday weekend, Serendipity’s hours are limited, and they were so generous to do that with their little time off. The whole family and crew—my mom, Penn’s parents, Tru, Sadie, Poppy, Elle, all the kids, as well as everyone else’s parents—will be flying to Dallas for the game. Lorelai’s flying in on gameday, and she’ll sit in the box with everyone during the first half. I’ll switch places with her during the second half and enjoy the game.

It helps that Winnie is more adjusted now. She doesn’t cry when Penn and I leave for the training facility or go on a trip anymore, which is a relief. Last night, she hugged me tight before we left, her little face so sweet.

“I’ve already got your fun stuff packed,” I told her, brushing back her soft curls.

She held Margo’s hand as Sam stood by them, grinning.

“I can’t wait to see you, Mama!” she squealed.

Yes, she’s been calling me Mama. Once she opened the door by calling Penn Daddy, it was the very next day when she tried it out on me. I justthoughtI cried when she did it with him. I didn’t think I’d ever get it together when she called me Mama.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be okay,” Sam told me.

God, I love those kids.

I did still cry a little as we drove away, watching them wave as long as we were in sight.

I worked my tail off last night when we arrived at the AT&T stadium, completely wiped out by the time I crawled into bed next to Penn. I’m not even trying to sneak around anymore. I’m sleeping with my man and I think the whole team knows and is happy about it. Penn’s having such a great season that I think the players want us to keep doing whatever we’ve been doing. They’re a superstitious lot, but I grew up with Coach Evans, so that’s not exactly news.

This morning when I woke up while it was still dark, Penn rolled over, half-asleep, and patted my butt before mumbling, “Love you,” in that low, sleepy voice that always ruins me.

I’m running on fumes by the time I take the world’s fastest shower and change into Penn’s jersey. When I finally get to the box, I’m exhausted but so excited to see everyone. Sam and Winnie rush toward me, hugging me tight.

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