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Sweeping me off my feet, he cradled me against his chest and peppered my face with kisses.
Naomi clapped her hands. “Oh, my gosh! Yay! Our babies will be close enough in age to be best friends, too.”
“I’m pregnant,” I repeated as I twined my arms around Nixon’s neck, suddenly feeling light-headed.
“And it’s such great timing. You’ll be on summer break for your due date, and Nixon will be off-season,” Naomi prattled on.
I was happy about the pregnancy, but I had about a million questions running through my head. “What about after the baby comes? What am I going to do about school? Nixon’s schedule will be jam-packed, and I’ll still have two more years to finish my degree.”
Naomi beamed a smile at me. “That’s easy. You and Nixon will just have to find a place nearby so I can watch my little niece or nephew whenever you need to be at school.”
Her easy answer—and with the perfect solution—helped settle my nerves over the prospect of finishing college with a baby at home while his or her dad was busy playing professional football. And there wasn’t anyone else in the world—except for my parents—who I trusted as much as my best friend. “That’s a wonderful idea. I guess our babies really will grow up together.”
“Thanks, sis.” Nixon kept me in his arms as he bent over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “As much as I’d love to spend more time getting to know my nephew, I need to get my woman home so we can celebrate the news of our own little bundle of joy.”
Naomi’s face screwed up, and she muttered, “Eww.”
Nixon laughed as he led me out of the hospital room and toward our future.
EPILOGUE
NIXON
“The end zone is the other way, Micky!” Jordan hollered from the side of the field. Then he pressed his lips together, probably trying to contain his laughter.
The adorable, five-year-old boy with blond fuzz covering his head grinned at Jordan as he did an about-face. “Thanks, Coach!” he yelled as he ran toward the opposite side of the field.
Ember, who was standing next to Jordan, couldn’t contain her laughter. When she bent over to put her hands on her knees so she could catch her breath, Jordan thumped her on the back a few times.
“Hands to yourself, Stallard. Or I’ll break them off,” I growled as I strode up behind my wife.
My threat only seemed to further tickle Ember’s amusement, and she doubled over into another fit of laughter. “G-Good grief, N-Nixon,” she stammered through choppy breaths and giggles. “Stop being such a c-caveman!”
Jordan stood back and lifted his arms into a surrender pose with a wide, goofy grin on his face. “I get it, bro. Wouldn’t want you touching my wife either. Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t choking to death.”
I grumbled under my breath, unable to argue with Jordan’s logic without sounding like a lunatic.
Jordan chuckled and waved as he jogged onto the field where his team of tots waited.
Ember tried to straighten, and I jumped to help her since she was heavily weighted in her stomach. I pulled her back to my front, splayed my hands on her big belly, and buried my face in her hair.
“Are you seriously still holding a grudge over a blind date that never happened seven years ago with a man who has been happily married almost as long as us?”
“How long have you known me, baby?” I asked in a dry tone. “What do you think?” I couldn’t help it that Jordan was a constant reminder of my almost fuckup that could have cost me this amazing woman and the three—almost four—beautiful kids we’d made together.
Not that I was an ass to Jordan all the time, only when he was within a certain proximity of my wife. And usually on the night of the Spring Ball—the event he had planned on taking Ember to. Even though he’d shown up with a date—albeit a fake one at the time—I still couldn’t stop my jealousy from rearing its head.
Otherwise, we were super tight, like we were with all of our teammates. One of the things I loved most about being a Nighthawk was the way the coaches and owner, Lennox Madison, encouraged us to be a family. Business was business, and sometimes we had to say goodbye to members of our family and welcome new ones, but Lennox’s decisions always made clear sense.
Ember rubbed her belly and leaned back into me, letting me support some of her weight. She’d been on her feet for hours, so they had to be killing her. “You should be resting, baby,” I muttered before drawing another deep inhale of her addictive scent into my lungs.
Huffing, she turned her head and dipped it back to look up at me. “We have three rambunctious kids, two dogs, and a completely full summer camp, Nix. I’ll rest later.”
I frowned, determined to make her take a break, even if I had to pick her up and carry her all the way to the car kicking and screaming. I grinned smugly because honestly, all I would really need to do was kiss her senseless and make sure she was right where I wanted her before the fog wore off.
“Don’t even think about it,” she snapped adorably.
I sighed and contemplated which battle I wanted to choose. Ember had a habit of overworking herself when it came to her babies. Including the football summer camp for cancer survivors that she’d started in her brother’s name. But she’d never been seven months pregnant during the four one-week camps.
