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I shook my head. “You can do better.”
“Honeycomb,” he finally said, eyes brightening. “Lemons. Daffodils.”
“You’re a quick thinker when you’re motivated.”
“Whenthisis the motivation?” He drove into me slowly. “You’re damn right I am.”
I draped my arms around him, savoring the feel of his powerful back muscles. “Still, though. Yellow…”
“Actually, green is my favorite color.” He paused to kiss me while moving up and down gently, making love to me rather than anything rough. “I went on a lot of hikes when I was younger. Trees, forests, meadows.”
“Mmm hmm,” I purred.
“And now, green is the color of the football field,” he added, his cock still pumping with a steady rhythm. “Especially when I catch a pass and dodge a defender. All I see is open green field between me and the end zone. There’s nothing sweeter.” He bent down to kiss my breast. “Almostnothing. What else do you want to know?”
“Nothing,” I replied, wrapping my legs around him. “I’ve heard enough. Just kiss me.”
Braden grinned down at me, and then gave me my wish.
23
Christian
I had one of the most luxurious mattresses in the world. It was custom-made in Switzerland, with a mixture of memory foam and recoil-resistant springs developed by scientists at the European Space Agency. It cost roughly the same amount as a brand new, fully-loaded Ford F150. Transporting it from Indianapolis to St. Louis had required a team of four movers, and the exterior windows of my apartment had to be removed so it could be lifted up into my bedroom by a crane.
It was all worth it because, as a professional athlete, sleep was one of the most important parts of my life. I got strong in the gym, and honed my skill on the field, but it was at night on that mattress when my body healed itself. In fact, I wore a specialized smart watch that tracked my sleep every night and helped me ensure I was getting the proper amount of deep sleep. I loved my bed more than I loved anything else in my life, except for Heidi.
But I woke up Monday morning on the floor of my living room. Chairs had been rearranged to hold up blankets and sheets to create a fort, and the floor was scattered with pillows. Half the pillows belonged to the nice widow across the hall; she graciously let us borrow them when Claire insisted we didn’t have enough. Which was funny, because she didn’t even know what a blanket fort was until I explained the concept to her. Like all seven year olds, she developed very strong opinions quickly.
The girl was sound asleep to my right, snoring softly, with an arm draped over Pickles. Heidi was laying flat on the far side of Claire, snout resting between her two paws, facing the front door. She seemed to understand that small humans required extra protection.
I spent several minutes motionless as I watched Claire sleep. I didn’t want to disturb her. Children were so precious at that age, and I had a deep desire to let her rest as long as possible.
I had always wanted kids. Being around Claire helped reinforce that desire. After one night with the girl, I was willing to forget all about my expensive Swiss mattress and have as many blanket fort slumber parties as she wanted. Even though she wasn’t my child, I could feel my fatherly instincts kicking in. The urge to protect her from anything, great or small. To nurture and guide her. It was a primal instinct that had existed in humans as long as humans had existed themselves. A purpose in life beyond just throwing touchdowns and accumulating money.
Our ex in Indianapolis had wanted kids, too. The future was something she was never shy about discussing. Even though we’d dated less than a year, it felt like we were starting to plan a life together. Her, me, Braden, and Logan.
But she didn’t want to move, and she refused to do the long distance thing. And now she was only an ex.
I was over her. We all were, even Logan, who had taken the breakup the hardest. But sometimes, especially when I watched Claire sleeping so peacefully, I wondered what might have been if the Colts had never moved cities.
I found myself wondering if Beth wanted kids. Some women didn’t have that desire, especially these days. She loved dogs, so much so that shemightnot want children. But she seemed like she had done a good job watching Claire, even for only a day.
I shook my head and muttered to myself, “What are you doing, Christian? It’s too early to think about that. You haven’t even gone on a real date with her yet.”
Even though I barely made any noise, it was enough to cause Claire to stir. Pickles, who had been waiting patiently, immediately sat up and began licking her face. Claire giggled and pushed him away.
“Morning, sleepy head,” I said.
“What’s a sleepy head?” she asked while rubbing her eye with a fist.
“Someone whose head is sleepy. Duh!”
“Allof me is sleepy, not just my head,” she patiently explained.
“Oh, okay then. Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?”
Suddenly she was wide awake. “I want McDonald’s! Bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit!”
