Page 44 of Triple Power Play 3
She narrows her eyes, her gaze suspicious. “What’s going on?”
“What?” My tone is far too enthusiastic to pull off nonchalance, especially when a smirk follows.
“You’re being nice. It’s weird.” Laughter bursts from my chest, and she joins in. Then, her brows furrow, and she frowns. “You’re happier here.”
“What?” This time, the word comes out with confusion.
“It’s okay. Your friends are here. You lived here. You’re happier here,” she repeats with more conviction.
If she believes I’m happier anywhere other than with her, she couldn’t be more mistaken. I shake my head. “No. I’ve low-key dreaded coming here all season. Everything I tried to prevent ended up happening. I got a lovely visit from my ex, and so did you.”
Our dinner is intimate—again, thank you, Trent. We’re seated on a worn leather loveseat, and I lift her legs onto my lap. “By the way, Reece told me what she said, and she didn’t take my last name. She’s a fucking liar.”
My ex kept her well-known surname, and I didn’t give a shit.
Aurora rests against the plush backrest. “I won’t lie, that makes me pretty happy. Your ex is quite awful.” She flattens her lips and widens her eyes dramatically. “I can totally see why you’d want to avoid her, but downstairs, with your players, that might be the happiest I’ve seen you.”
My response is immediate. “I’m happy because I’m with you. I’m happy because I knew you’d like this night. I’m happy you didn’t leave me after dealing with my bitch of an ex and my shitty mood. You’re here in my jersey, gazing at me with the same adoring eyes you’ve had since the beginning. No other person will look at me the way you do.” My throat swells with emotion. “It’s been a hell of a week. It’s over, and I get to take youhome. Finally.”
Her, staring at me with love in her eyes—like she is now, like she was while I was simply drinking a beer and laughing with friends—that right there is everything to me. Nothing compares, and I’ll protect that adoring gaze, that feeling, with my life.
She gives me an affectionate smile. “I’m ready to go home. We have a doctor’s appointment and Thanksgiving next week.”
“Holy shit.” I forgot all about Thanksgiving and, fuck, Christmas.
I’ll have to buy gifts. I’ve never really had a family Christmas. My ex went on vacation with her parents every year. Sometimes, I joined, and other times, I worked. She bought all the presents, including her own, and that was fine by me. I was a terrible husband, but I hope to be a better boyfriend.
“Yup, and I was thinking, if it’s okay with everyone, we can take my grandma dinner?”
Big brown eyes plead with me, as if I’d ever say no.
I squeeze her thigh. “Of course we can—or we can invite her to the house.”
Her face lights up, her lips parting. “Can we? I’ve never asked the nursing home because we had nowhere to go.” She places a hand on her chest. “That would be so wonderful.” She fans herself. “Okay. Okay. I need to calm down, or I’ll cry my eyes out when they tell me no.”
I chuckle at her ramblings. “They won’t say no. We’ll figure it out.”
Oh, it’s happening. I’ll bribe a nurse if I have to. I might go as far as kidnapping to see Aurora this excited again.
We chat about this and that for the rest of dinner, just enjoying each other’s company. She rolls her eyes when I force her to eat a few pieces of filet mignon with her vegetable pasta and two slices of bread.
She’s eating better, at least when she remembers, and hasn’t fainted—well, as far as I know—but her picky eating habits still concern me.
I lift the glass bottle in front of her. “Do these sparkling waters make you feel full? Maybe we need to switch to regular water.”
With a theatrical gasp, she whips her head toward me. “Ethan Aiden Blackwood. You’ve already taken my coffee away. What’s next? Cupcakes?”
I can’t stop grinning. I fucking love her. “I regret telling you my middle name.”
Peering down, she places her hand on her stomach. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let Daddy take away our cupcakes.”
My entire body flushes with heat. For a moment, I lose the ability to breathe and fear I’m having a stroke.Nope, just feelings.
Daddy. I’m going to be a daddy, and I’m not horrified. Not one bit. Not even a little. Jesus, what’s happening to me? Next we’ll be in the bath, searching Pinterest for baby names.
The chef places a plate in the center of the table, interrupting my existential crisis. “I heard someone likes red velvet cupcakes.” This is no cupcake. It takes up the entire platter. “A red velvet molten lava cake topped with homemade vanilla ice cream and strawberries.” He dips his head. “Enjoy.”
Along the outside of the white plate, written in chocolate syrup, are the words:Be Mine?I take my thumb and smear the top of the question mark.
