Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Now she frowns. Her eyes are puffy from making her cry. “L-leave?”
I realize she might think I mean forever. I swallow. It’s like a weightlifting workout, my muscles tearing and breaking down as though to keep me here. I know that’s not literally happening, but it feels so real. “My team needs me. At this rate, we’ll dig ourselves into a hole.”
“Mess up your ranking?” she asks.
“Pretty much.” I groan. “Honestly, I’m ready to retire.”
She gasps. “What?”
I smirk somehow, but that’s what it means to be with Emma. She can stir deep memories and drag me through so much pain. Still, there’s light inside us both. “Don’t look so shocked. In professional athlete years, I’m ancient. With the baby coming along, it makes sense. I’ve been smart with my money. Our kids, hell, their kids won’t want for anything.”
“We won’t spoil them, though, will we? I want them to be happy and to have a purpose. I’ve met a few trust fund kids through college. It’s not pretty.”
“We’ll give them drive,” I say passionately. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about that. What I mean is I don’t have to work. You don’t, either, unless it’s something you want to do.”
She cuddles closer to me, kissing my chest. I love when she does that. I love the way her hair falls across her face. “It’s not about the money. It’s the security. Knowing we’re going to get through this together.”
“I’m ready to retire,” I go on, “but I can’t leave my team in the lurch. I need to finish the season. It’s in my contract, but that’s not the point. The boys deserve it. My full attention. Or as much of it as I can give.”
I grit my teeth. My temples are pulsing. Leaning down, I kiss Emma on the lips. That relaxes the tension in my jaw. She kisses me passionately, her fingers trailing up my arm.
“But I don’t want to be away from you,” I say. “Come with me.”
“To Canada?” she replies quickly. “What about college? What will I tell Mom and Dad?”
“Tell them we’re together. Tell them we’re going to raise our baby together. I’ll come with you. We can sit them down and…”
“No, no, just wait.” She shakes her head, then sits up and sits on the edge of the bed. “I… I need to clean up. I’ve been lying here in this silly outfit.”
“Don’t call it sil—”
Silly, but she’s already run into the en suite. She shuts the door and locks it. I sit up, find my shorts and T-shirt, then wait for her in bed. She’s still wearing the outfit, her hand on her chest. “Klutz that I am, I left the bag in the car.”
“It was in the trunk?”
“In the backseat with me.”
I pick up my cell phone. “Don’t worry. I’ll have the driver drop it at the hotel lobby.”
She sits on the bed, wringing her hands. The animal in me is tempted to fall to my knees, bury my face in her cleavage, and suck her sensitive nipples, but this is serious. We have to think now. We have to plan. “I want to tell them,” she says after a pause, “but not now.”
“When, then?” I say. She throws her hands up and turns to me. Her face is red, and her eyes flood with more emotion. I walk around the bed and take her into my arms. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“I mean it, Logan,” she says passionately. “I really want to tell them, especially after tonight and all we shared. I feel like we belong together.”
“That’s because we do,” I say with confidence. “Just me and you. For the rest of our lives.”
She clutches onto my side tightly. “That’s all I want, but when I picture the future, I see Mom and Dad at family barbecues. I see Dad with his grandson or granddaughter on his knee. I see Mom teaching our daughter to knit.”
I swallow. My lack of regular family structure is showing. I only see Emma and the babies when I think of the future, but she’s right. The children deserve to have as many loving people in their lives as possible.
“Is there a way to make that happen?” I ask. “You know your parents. Is there a way to make them understand?”
“Maybe,” she murmurs. “I don’t know. Maybe if… Maybe if I told them while you were away. Then, if they agree to speak with you, we can get on video chat or something.”
“I’ll be flying down for that,” I tell her. “Even if it’s just for a few hours. That sort of conversation has to happen in person, but I’d rather—”
“I know,” she cuts in, “but I just can’t do it tonight or tomorrow. It’s too fast. It’s…”
She trails off. I decide to stop badgering her about it. She’s emotionally torn, plain and simple. I won’t hammer the point yet, but what if she starts showing before her parents know?