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Amber laughs, a light tittering sound. “She likes you.”
A breathy laugh escapes me. “Can I hold her?” I ask before I know what I’m doing. What the hell, Ford. You haven’t held a baby since your sisters were born.
Amber blows out a dramatic sigh. “Not sure the ladies in here can handle Ford Remington, NHL captain, and America’s heartthrob, holding a baby. You’re going to be the cause of many swoons. Possibly even fainting.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine, I’ll get your bag. I’m assuming it’s pink?”
“You know me too well.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief, telling me I’ll recognize her bag as soon as I see it.
“And I’m sure Nella would love for you to hold her once we get back to your place.” She shifts on her feet, making me wonder if her back hurts from carrying Nella around all day. “But if I take her out of this baby carrier, she’ll scream bloody murder when I try to tuck her back into it.”
I study my friend’s pretty face for a moment, noting the purple smudges under her eyes and the messy braids keeping her hair out of her face. To anyone else, nothing would seem out of place, but I know this woman almost better than I know myself. And I’ve never seen her looking so exhausted. The desire to hold her is so overwhelming, I have to ball my fists to keep myself in place. Because I’m a split second away from moving into her space and pulling her into my arms. To protect her and comfort her, to give her the safety and rest she needs.
But she knows me well too, and she knows I’m not a touchy-feely guy. So, she’d likely think that was pretty odd. I clear my throat and nod my head instead, moving toward the conveyor belt where the luggage from Amber’s flight starts piling on one by one with loud thuds.
Luckily, the fifth bag to land on the luggage carousel is pink, covered with hand-painted flowers, and has a pink ribbon attached to the handle. I move forward and grab it off the belt, it’s followed by a smaller bag that’s baby pink and has a matching ribbon tied to it. I grab that one too, assuming it’s Nella’s.
I try to pull the handle up on Amber’s suitcase to roll it, but the handle is broken and won’t budge.
“Sorry, it broke last year. The wheel is busted too, so I just carry it by the side handle,” Amber says, her voice coming from beside me.
She moves to grab the smaller bag, but Nella starts fussing. It’s a pathetic, heart-breaking sound. Amber begins to bounce up and down, and making a shhh sound.
I easily grab both bags and think to myself how much easier it is to travel with my pain-in-the-ass teammates than it must be to travel with a baby. Often, I feel like a babysitter with the guys, but at least they don’t cry…usually.
“Just these two bags?” I ask her, and she nods while still bouncing and shhh-ing. I offer her a small smile then jut my chin toward the sliding doors that lead to the parking area. She follows closely behind as we walk to my Land Rover. I already installed an infant car seat so Amber wouldn’t have to bring one. It was the only thing she’d let me buy, along with something called a pack-and-play. Nella needed a place to sleep during their visit, but the bed thingy that feels like cardboard doesn’t seem that comfortable to me.
After lifting the bags into the trunk, I close the hatch, then come around and open the back door on the driver’s side, where I have meticulously installed the safest car seat money can buy. And I stopped by a fire station earlier today to make sure it was installed correctly.
Amber giggles as she removes Nella from the baby carrier and tucks her into the car seat. “I should’ve known you’d purchase the most expensive car seat on the market.”
I peek my head in and see Nella sleeping as her mother jostles her around to buckle the car seat. “I didn’t pay attention to the price; I just got the one with the highest safety ratings.”
Amber jumps at the sound of my voice. She must not have realized I was so close behind her. Her back collides with my front, and I place my hands on her hips to steady her.
She laughs and brushes my hands away. “Sorry, you kind of snuck up on me.”
I smile. “I’ve always been able to do that, haven’t I?”
She smiles back, a million memories moving through those emerald eyes. “Yes, you have.”
During the hour-long drive to my house, thanks to D.C. traffic, Amber yawns half a dozen times. Nella sleeps the whole time, or maybe she’s awake and just really quiet. I don’t know much about babies.
I pull into my garage, and Amber releases a dreamy sigh that makes my head spin, imagining a dozen different ways I could get her to repeat that sound.
“Finally,” she says. “I’ve been dreaming about your mattress since last time I visited.”
I blink rapidly, trying to slow my racing thoughts. Because my twisted brain has had several dreams that include me, Amber, and my mattress over the years. But there’s no way that’s what she’s referring to.
She glances over at me and bursts into laughter. “Calm down, I meant your guest room’s mattress. I wish you could see your face!” She laughs again. “You look so horrified.”
I force a laugh and scratch the back of my head, going for a casual look. “Ha. I’m just tired from early practice this morning. My brain isn’t functioning at full capacity.”
Still giggling, she unbuckles her seatbelt and walks around the vehicle to get Nella.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath before removing my own seatbelt and getting the bags from the trunk.
We step inside my large home, every surface sparkling because I clean when I’m nervous, or stressed, or sad… or happy. But today it was nerves making me clean. The other guys on the team pay house-keepers, but not me. Don’t need one since I’m what they call a neat freak.
