Page 89 of The Final Faceoff
I nod. “Not for me. For her. For the baby.”
His gaze sharpens. “You have your doubts, don’t you?”
Of course I do. But the words that come out are rawer, stripped bare. “If I lose her . . .” My chest feels tight, the confession scraping against something unguarded. “I would die.”
Papa’s expression doesn’t change. “She’s always been good for you,” he says, folding his arms on the table. “The question is, are you good for her?”
It hits like a sucker punch because I’ve been asking myself the same damn thing. “I hope I am.” My voice is rough. “I want to be.”
Papa nods. “Then don’t just tell her. Show her.”
That’s what I’ve been doing all along, right? And then I think about how she asked me to stay with her last night. Not because she needed sex. Just . . . me. Us. Because she wanted to fall asleep with my arms around her.
“I should check on her.”
Papa smirks. “Of course.”
I roll my eyes but push off the counter, already making my way upstairs. Because he’s right. And I plan on showing her every damn day. Until she realizes that I love her. Until . . .
Will she ever love me back?
* * *
The room is still how I left it. Shutters off, dim, and warm. Hailey’s curled up on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other resting over her stomach like she’s already protecting the little thing growing inside her. My thing. Not my thing. My . . .
Mine.
I sigh, shutting the door behind me and moving toward the bed. She barely stirs when I ease down beside her, just a soft breath, a small shift. The fact that she sleeps this well around me does something to my chest I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with right now. Instead, I focus on the baby. Our baby.
Not by blood. But who the hell cares about DNA when I’m already in love with the little one? That little heart that’s mine to protect.
I rest my palm against the soft curve of her belly, careful not to wake her. “Hey, kid,” I murmur.
Nothing.
Figures. Already taking after Hailey, making me work for it. I huff, rubbing small circles over the warm skin beneath her shirt. “You have no idea how lucky you are,” I whisper, voice lower, softer. “Your mom is the best person I’ve ever met. Stubborn as hell, but she’s got a good heart. And I know she’s gonna love you more than anything.”
My throat tightens, but I push through, brushing my thumb along the hem of her sleep shirt. “We’re at my dads’ place right now. They’re gonna love you, too. One of them is already planning a nursery, and the other is probably figuring out how to make you a tiny hockey jersey. Just warning you now, they’re a lot.”
Still nothing. Maybe I should read that book again, check when babies are supposed to start kicking. I mean, she’s not even showing just yet.
I smirk. “I was thinking I’d show you the horses tomorrow. Not that you’ll remember, but hey, might as well start early, right? You’re gonna grow up knowing that Crawford babies ride. That’s just a fact. Even when your grandpas and I will fight, you’ll have your own pony before you can walk.”
I pause, sliding my fingers over Hailey’s stomach like I can feel something changing already.
God. This thing—this tiny, impossible thing—is going to be a person. A person who’s going to look up at me, who’s going to need me. And, fuck, I need to be better than what I am.
I let out a slow breath, voice dropping lower. “I don’t know what I am to you yet,” I admit. “I don’t know where I fit. But I promise you this—I’m not going anywhere.”
Still, silence. But I swear, for just a second, Hailey shifts into my touch, like even in sleep, she knows. I just settle in and take them in my arms. My little family—I just hope she can see it.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Hailey
Switching Up the Play
If someone had told me six months ago that I’d be living with Leif Crawford—New York Vipers’ latest trade acquisition, part-time menace, and full-time enigma—I would have laughed in their face.
