Page 51 of The Comeback

“You’re always welcome.”

“So even if Weston moves to Timbuktu, I can come back?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Her eyes widen, and a flush settles over her cheeks. Although it’s hard to tell the difference between the heat and her embarrassment.

“It’s fine. I was joking.” I’ve given up the pipe dream of staying behind if he leaves town. That’s not going to happen.

“He’s not heard about his contract?”

“Not yet.” I shrug. “He talks with his agent every week, but he’s not heard anything from ownership.” My stomach churns. He’ll get a contract. There’s no reason they’d pass on him. He’s in better shape than he was when he was drafted. I’ve got to keep repeating it.

“It’ll be fine. When Gunner was up for his long-term contract, it wasn’t done until the last second. The owner will make sure he’s done right.”

“I hope so.” My gaze travels to Weston. He’s talking to my brother and Saylor.

I want this so bad for him. He deserves it for all the hard work he’s done. He’s fitting in great with the team, and his sister even wore a pink T-shirt today when she went to the doctor’s office. I fiddle with the straw as I toss up a quick prayer that she gets good news.

“Mama.” Dani’s little boy, Zack, leans up and tugs on Dani’s ponytail.

“Yes, baby?”

“Down.”

“Yes, sir.” She sets him on his feet. His little black sandals slap on the concrete as he toddles at full speed to Gunner, who sweeps him into the air.

“Gah,” she sighs. “There’s nothing sexier than a man with a baby.”

“Stop,” Ashley walks up to us and glares at Dani. “Tamp those ovaries down.”

“Hush.” Dani nudges her in the ribs. “If I want to fornicate and make babies, I will.”

“Fine.” Ashley rolls her eyes and rests her hands on her hips. “It’s your funeral.” She winks. But when Dillon steps out of the kitchen and onto the patio with their daughter, Malia in his arms, her face says it all. They’re both lost causes.

I clutch my chest. Do I want a baby? My heart beats erratically as I envision a little Weston running across the field with a football under his chubby arm. God, yes, I do.

Slow down. Put on the brakes. It’s too soon. You just met.

Why should we wait? It’s not like the other players on the team didn’t get married and have babies quick. Why not us?

“Baby,” Weston growls in my ear and wraps his arms around my waist, dragging me against his chest. “Your head is smokin’.”

I twist in his arms, placing my hands on his shoulders. The warm sun has left his skin feeling warm to the touch. “Well, it’s hot out here, and it just got hotter.”

“Hmmmm.” He leans down and nuzzles the spot below my ear. “I like the sound of that. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

I arch into him, but I’m careful not to rub against his lower body. The kids are still here, and I don’t want to be a bad influence. “Are you having a good time?”

“I am now.” He pulls back and stares into my eyes. “Have I told you today how gorgeous you are?”

“No.”

“You’re gorgeous.” He winks, and heat curls low in my belly. “I can’t believe I have the most beautiful woman in the place.”

I press my lips together. “Thank you, but there are some good genes at this party.”

“Football players know how to pick the hotties so we can make the next generation of players.”

“Oh, really?” Does he mean that literally, or is he making idol conversation to reference how good-looking everyone is here?

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