Page 68 of The Decoy

As I look around at all these people who came to be part of our day, I stand with this man who shares my strength in our love for each other and this baby, and I know without a doubt that our story is unshakable.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Brody

Even after an entire afternoon standing around and surrounded by no less than forty people, Ellis looks satisfied and happy. Whole. Radiant in a way that makes my chest feel tight.

“Your mom cried twice on the way to the airport,” Ellis looks over at me. “She told me to take care of you.”

A laugh breaks from my throat as I shift the truck into park in the garage. “My mom will always be a mom, I suppose. I know she’s used to it now, but I know she still worries about me during the season.”

“She loves you,” Ellis says, turning her head toward me, a quiet, knowing smirk playing on her lips. “And Lauren spent the entire drive making plans to come back as soon as the baby is born, if not sooner. It was really sweet. They’re excited.”

“They’re going to be out of control with sending things for the baby,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning across the console. I reach out and brush my calloused thumb along her jaw, feeling her smooth skin. “I know how grateful they were that you coordinated this whole trip for them. I swear you blow me away.”

“I told you, Brody,” she whispers, her gaze locking onto mine with that same sexy confidence that hooked me from the day I met her. “You take care of everyone. You claimed me, claimed this baby without a second of hesitation. You deserve to have your family here while you celebrate the big moments in your life too. And I have the ability to do it, so let me.”

My chest tightens again. She speaks so plainly—and hearing her acknowledge him as mine—makes me want to take her down to the courthouse right now and make it official. This woman is mine. Forever.

But for now…I have something else planned for her.

“Come on,” I say, pressing my thumb in the middle of her lower lip before pulling back. “Let’s get you inside. I’m sure your back is killing you by now.”

“Brody, I’m fine,” she replies, though the shift in her posture as she unbuckles her belt gives her away. Thirty weeks pregnant is no joke, no matter how confidently she carries herself.

We walk in together, and the dogs greet us. The house still feels as warm and comfortable as it did before, but Ellis has added an elevated aesthetic to it that’s made it ours. In the past few months, she’s transformed this place from simple to a real home with more leather furniture, custom art, and the constant scent of cedar and vanilla.

“I’m going to kick these shoes off and make some tea,” Ellis says, reaching up to slide her fingers through my hair at the nape of my neck. “Do you want anything?”

“Not yet,” I say, my voice dropping as a nervous edge flares in my stomach. It’s a completely foreign feeling for a guy who spends his Sundays hitting linebackers in front of eighty thousand people. “Before you go into the kitchen…I need to show you something upstairs.”

Ellis pauses, her eyes narrowing with amused curiosity as she looks up at me. “Upstairs, huh? So you can have your wicked way with me?”

“I mean, yeah, of course,” I chuckle, taking her hand and lacing my fingers through hers. “Just…walk with me.”

This past week, while Ellis was working in the city and finalizing the shower, I had something up my sleeve. In between practices and going back and forth to the city to take Ellis to and from work, I’ve been busy here. I hired a contractor to create a nursery for the baby, down to every detail—the paint, the trim, the custom furniture, the lighting—and I even helped with a few things, like setting up the crib. Keeping this a secret was like absolute torture. Every time she asked why I smelled like paint when I picked her up, I brushed it off as heightened pregnancy senses.

Now, as we reach the top of the dark oak staircase, my heart is hammering against my ribs like a rookie at his first pro game.

I lead her down the hall, past our bedroom, straight to the double doors at the end.

We stop in front of the doors, and she must feel the tension in my body. She turns to face me, her brows raised, a knowing smirk lingering on her lips. “Vaughn…what did you do?”

“Just…open it, Princess,” I mumble, stepping behind her and placing my hands on her hips.

She reaches out, presses the handle down, and pushes the doors inward.

The room opens to us, bathed in the soft glow of the early evening light coming through the windows.

If I do say so myself, it’s perfect. The empty suite has been converted into a nursery that looks like it’s been pulled straight from a magazine, but it feels peaceful and warm.

The walls are painted in a pale, warm green, framed by white crown molding. A hand-woven rug in cream and neutral colors covers the floor, softening the dark wood of the flooring. Across the room, an artisan-crafted crib made of solid, natural oak, made up with soft, white linens, waits for our son.

To the left, I made space for the rocker that Liam and Alie got for us. Luckily, Liam wasn’t good at keeping that secret, because I had already picked one out. A built-in bookshelf sits behind where the chair will be, and a small table with a lamp sits next to it. I also have the closet organized with tiny hangers, and shelving stocked with onesies, blankets, and a designated section for the tiny athletic gear I’ve already gotten for him.

Ellis goes completely still.

Her breath catches—a quiet gasp echoing in the quiet room. She doesn’t move for a full three seconds, her hands moving to her mouth, her eyes wide as she takes in every inch of the space.