Page 42 of Linebacker
“Well, look at me.” I wave my hands up and down my bloated body. “I’m a big, fat blob of a mess.”
“That’s crap,” Lucy snaps back. “You’re a beautiful, blooming, pregnant woman who happens to be one of the kindest, funniest people I know, and I’m honored to call a friend.” She sits on the edge of the couch and takes one of my hands. “You’re not worried that Marshall is getting up to his old tricks, are you?”
“He could have relapsed.” My heart thumps hard inside my chest, sweat beads on my forehead and top lip as panic rises at the thought of Mars even looking at another woman.
“Ha, are you joking? You’ve more chance of Donald Trump growing old gracefully and taking a new wife in the same age range as he is.” Lucy doesn’t hold back, her shoulders bobbing up and down as she laughs out loud at her own joke. “Baby Daddy is so infatuated with you; he’d never betray you. And he’s a strictly two beers max kinda guy now too.”
I don’t respond; all I offer is a snort at her attempt to appease me.
“What did he say to you on the phone?” she urges, giving me hand a bit of a squeeze.
“He asked if I was okay.” Lucy raises a brow, waiting for more. “Told me that he misses me.”
“And?” she presses.
“That he loves me.”
“Mhm… how much?”
“So fucking much,” I snigger, realising how silly I’m being.
“Then what is all this about?” she raises her arms in the air in question. “Because one thing I’m sure of is that Vance Marshall doesn’t lie to me, to his team, and certainly not you.”
“I’m being stupid, aren’t I?” Sighing deeply, I slowly swing my legs over and shuffle in my seat until I’m sitting upright.
“Not stupid,” She does a couple of melodramatic blinks at me. “Crazy, yes. But not stupid.”
“Cheeky bugger,” I chuckle, swotting her on her arm.
“It’s getting late and after all that crying, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you go take a nice warm relaxing shower, get all cozy in bed, and get some sleep? Before you know it, it will be morning and only a couple of hours before Baby Daddy is home.”
Lucy’s right. I am exhausted. With my emotions running wild and having two growing babies to carry around inside me, it’s no surprise, really. So, before taking myself off to my bedroom, I give Lucy a hug, and wish her goodnight, telling her I’ll see her in the morning seeing how she’s crashing in one of the guest rooms while Mars is away, keeping me company. Mars was adamant that he didn’t want me to be on my own in case of an emergency.
The shower does the trick. The heat eases my back ache and soothes my bones. Once dried and dressed in one of Mars’ t-shirts, I slip under the quilt and I’m asleep before I’ve let out my first relaxing sigh.
* * *
A warm hand with the gentlest of touch slips over my hip and up over my swollen belly. The featherlight contact is so delicate that, at first, I think I’m dreaming, until I feel the heat of his firm chest against my back. “Mars?” slips from my lips, voice thick with sleep. The room is lit by a shard of moonlight sneaking through the break in the curtains. “What time is it?”
“Shh,” He moves up closer, wrapping me with his protective, strong arms. “It’s a little after 1am baby, go back to sleep.”
“Why are you home?” I tilt my head to the side so I can brush my lips against his cheek, but he preempts me perfectly, moving so his mouth meets mine with a sweet, gentle kiss.
“When I spoke to you earlier, I could hear it in your voice. You needed me home, so I grabbed an earlier flight.”
“Mars, you didn’t have to do that.” I lay my hand over his, the one that is palm flat, caressing the bump that contains our children. “I was fine.”
“Okay, truth,” He brushes his lips against my temple, and across the bridge of my nose, before hitting me with a hot and passionate kiss to my mouth. “I wasn’t okay. I was the one that needed to be home.”
My heart squeezes tight. A spark of worry comes to the forefront of my mind. Mars has worked hard to exercise the effects left by the emotional trauma that he’d faced through childhood, but there’s no guarantee that his fear of abandonment wouldn’t rise again.
“Mars?” I question, bringing my hand up to his cheek. “Talk to me.”
“It didn’t hit me until the end of the game, how huge it was. We’d won the Super Bowl.” He takes my hand from his cheek as he brings it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “One of the biggest events in my life was happening at that moment. The team was crazy excited. The fans were going wild, each and every one of them sharing the moment.” His voice is thick with emotion and when a drop of wetness hits the back of the hand he’s still holding, I realise he’s crying.
“Mars,” I roll to face him and get as close as possible, reaching up to place my hands on his cheeks. “I don’t understand.”
“But for me, it didn’t feel right. Something was missing, and what was missing was you.” A deep emotional sigh bursts from his mouth. “This time next year, once the season is over, I want us to get married,” he vows. “No distractions. You, me, and the kids, together celebrating the most important day of our lives. Our family.”
