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Eva
“And that, folks,”I said, smiling into the camera, “is our last broadcast of the year. We’ll see you on New Year’s Day for the Outdoor Classic here in Baltimore. Until then, Happy Holidays, stay safe and thanks for tuning in.”
I smiled again, held it until the cameraman signaled we were officially off the air.
Then I turned to my fellow commentators as we all stood up and moved toward the exit. There was an equal amount of razzing and good wishes for the holidays, and normally I liked hanging around, liked chatting with Mark—our director—breaking down my performance, taking his notes for what he thought I could do better.
But I didn’t want to take the time to do that tonight.
I wanted to get out of there and I wanted to get down to my man.
Because we had a Christmas to celebrate together.
I stopped in my dressing room, scrubbed off my camera makeup, changed out my nice clothes for a cozy T-shirt and a hoodie I’d stolen from Theo, trying to figure out if I’d done the right thing when it came to Theo’s Christmas present.
It was our first Christmas as a couple who lived together, as a couple who exchanged avowals of love, as husband and wife.
It was important.
Theo—my broody, smart, sexy hockey player who owned my heart— was incredible.
He deserved a gift that was equally so.
So…I’d taken a leap and—
Now I was worried that the leap had been too big, that it was too soon, that he would hate it.
And the stakes were high.
I’d arranged the gift to be delivered during the team’s holiday celebration that we were having at our family dinner next week—the first time all of members of our respective families would be sitting down together around a table, breaking bread, and, hopefully, bonding.
All eyes would be on us, onhim, and if he reacted poorly…
The confident ball buster that was Eva Moreno—yes, I was talking about myself in third person—was scared.
Petrified, really.
Because the stakes felt really, really high.
“It’s going to be fine,” I murmured, pushing my chair in and reaching for my purse on the desktop. “He’s going to love it and—”
“Theheyou’re talking about better be me, sweetheart.”
I gasped, whipping around and seeing my hockey player leaning back against the doorframe. His dark brown hair was wet and messy, as though he’d run his hands through the strands and called it good. And knowing him, he probably had. Because he must have seriously hauled ass to make it up here this fast.
He moved toward me, gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “What am I going to love, Eva baby?”
My heart skipped a beat because he’d only started calling me that lately, after I’d melted while reading a book about a hero who called his woman baby, all gruff and rough and low. I’d admitted as much and he’d read the scene…
And as Theo always did, he’d given me both exactly what I wantedandwhat I needed.
So, now I gotEva babyand justbabyand—
I got everything.
Including being his wife.
