Yami steps forward and drops a hand to my shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone. But can I say one thing?”
I nod.
“I’m really fucking happy for you, man, you two are gonna be fantastic parents.” He smirks again. “And I’m gonna be the best goddamn uncle out there.”
I pull him in for a back-slapping hug. “Thanks, bro.”
We break apart and he turns to look inside the restaurant. “C’mon, let’s go before they eat all the chips.”
Inside, we join the rest of the team seated around a huge table in the back of the restaurant. For a few minutes, I let the conversation go on around me and just soak it in. This is my life? Seriously? Playing ball on a team with some of the greatest men I know, in love with the best woman in the entire goddamn world, and about to have a baby.
I don’t know what I did to get this fucking lucky, but I’m grateful for it.
After everyone’s done eating, Sin, who happens to be seated next to me, reaches down beside his chair and lifts up a bag before standing up and clapping his hands to get everyone’sattention.
“When I came to my first Tridents’ spring training camp last year and Monty pulled out a giant fucking fishbowl, I have to admit, I was confused. Then they explained the tradition, and I was skeptical. But at the end of last year, we read them out loud, and goddamn if most of them hadn’t come true. We all know ballplayers are nothing if not superstitious, which means the fishbowl is back. Write down your goals and dreams for the season, boys, and let’s make it our best ever.”
He sits down amid the raucous applause and I lean in. “As far as speeches go, that was pretty good. You’ve got the job.”
“What job?” he asks with a laugh.
“The keeper of the bowl,” I say, keeping my face and voice dead serious.
As expected, Sin looks at me like I just grew a second head. “The what?”
I nod slowly. “You’ll collect the bowl tonight and be responsible for it all year. Then at the barbecue in the fall, you have to read the messages out loud.”
“Fuck that, this is your gig. I just got it started.”
After holding his stare for a beat, I laugh. “Fine, fine. You’re not ready yet.”
I take some of the paper that is circulating around and grab a pen from the pile in the middle of the table. Most years, my goals come easily to me. Because most years, they’re the same. Play to win, go to the championships, that kind of stuff.
This year, things are different. But my goal still comes to me easily.
Be the man Lark deserves and the father our baby deserves.
It’s late by the time we get back to the hotel. And when I let myself into my hotel room, where Lark has essentially moved in, having spent zero time in the room the team booked for her to share with another trainer, it takes my eyes a second to adjust in the dim light.
She’s curled up on her side, facing me. Her eyes are closed, her face peaceful. She’s so goddamn beautiful it takes my breath away, and I have to put my hand over my heart to make sure it’s still beating and hasn’t jumped ship to land in her hands instead.
Because that woman has my entire heart, and I would lay my life down for her and our baby.
When I can move again, I silently and quickly strip down to my underwear, then walk as quietly as possible into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. When I finally lift the covers and slip in behind her, I carefully sneak my arm around her waist, wrapping my body around the curve of hers.
My hand lands on her stomach, my thumb lightly caressing the life growing inside.
It’s funny. I went from a virgin to a father-to-be in a very short time. It might not be what I ever would have planned for myself, but I don’t regret a single thing.
How could I when the first woman I’ve ever loved will also be the last woman I love?
The only woman I’ll ever love.
Chapter thirty-nine
Lark
“We should probably start looking at houses.”
