Walking through his house, I clock the changes I would make if it were mine. Which is kind of telling that he’s wearing me down if I’m thinking of decor ideas.
Sin walks in just as I make it to the kitchen, my second favorite place besides bed during this pregnancy, and calls my name.
“In the kitchen,” I answer.
He walks in with a huge smile on his face and walks straight up to pop a kiss on my mouth.
“I like you here when I get home. I was at a meeting, sorry.”
He rifles around in the fridge and pops back out with three cartons of deliciously ripe fruit.
“Oh? Was it about a marketing strategy? On a Saturday no less, look at you.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
As Sin sets out the blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries, he gives me a funny look. “No, not a work meeting. A meeting meeting. Alcoholics Anonymous.”
“Oh,” I deadpan, because I’m not sure what else to say.
“I want to share these things with you. Sorry if that was abrupt. It’s just … I think we held too much back the first time around. Yes, you knew me more intimately than anyone else had before. But I still wasn’t forthcoming, we both know that. I want you to know everything, Francesca. And I want to know everything about your day, your ins and outs. This is the real life shit we’ll both have to deal with.”
I nod, knowing that he’s right. It seems like we’re jumping off the cliff before I was even notified we were doing so, but I’m glad he’s grasping my hand and pulling me over. This was my biggest problem with him in Florida, and afterward, when I found out how much he had lied.
“Thank you, for telling me. Was it a good meeting?” I walk over to where he stands at the counter, loading up two separate bowls with fruit for both of us.
Laying my head on his shoulder, I wrap my arm into his, then snaking it down to lace my fingers into the ones of his free hand. Instantly, my heart calms.
“It was. A small group of us today, but there were three guys there who have kids. So it was nice to talk to them. Two of them were already working the program when their wives had a baby. I know it’s going to put pressure on me, and there will be times it’ll feel easier to just reach for that crutch. But we talked about coping mechanisms, and I have their numbers now.”
I nod in understanding. A lot of people, women especially who were having a child with an addict, might feel offended that their partner couldn’t talk this out with them. That they needed people outside the relationship to lean on if a craving came on.
But I understand. I know what it’s like to go back to that thing that makes you feel like you’re in control, even if you’re actually spiraling out of it.
“I’m glad you have them. If you ever want me to attend a meeting, I’d really like to sit in on one.”
“There are no secrets between us. I’d love for you to come.” He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead.
Then, in the spirit of the moment, I divulge something I haven’t told anyone since finding out about the baby. Something I want to share with him, since he was just so honest with me.
“Ever since I got pregnant, I’ve been thinking about this. How I kind of always thought I’d never be able to. After years of abusing my body from the inside out, I read that one of the side effects of bulimia is infertility. I used to lie awake at night, after I recovered, and cry about how I’d never have a baby. I didn’t even think I wanted to be a mother that bad. And then this happened. And the first thing I thought was … did I mess him or her up? Will this baby have problems because of what I put my body through?”
They run through my mind constantly, those negative, soul-draining questions. With every appointment, we’re assured by the doctors that our baby boy is perfectly healthy. But I can’t help it. Bulimia and its aftereffects will never stop plaguing me, just like Sinclair’s alcoholism will stick with him for life.
He pulls me into his arms, hugging me as tightly as the bump between us will allow.
“Our son is tough, he’s healthy, and you’re the perfect mother for him. We all have pasts and we’ve all fucked up. But you treat your body like a temple now. You eat better than anyone I know, you’re constantly exercising or on your feet. You learned from your mistakes, just like I did with mine. And we’re both still learning. But nothing is going to happen to our son. I won’t let it.”
I bury my face in his shirt, nodding and breathing deeply in and out as he rubs my back. There is no one in this world who can get inside my head and heart like he can.
“Now come sit down and let me give you a foot rub. You’re in your third trimester and I haven’t done even one tenth of my baby daddy duties.” He pats the couch. “Look, I’ll even feed you berries.”
Intense relief seems to make my shoulders sag as I sink into the big sectional. “Who needs orgasms when you can have foot rubs and fruit?
As Sinclair digs his thumb into the arch of my foot and I let out a satisfied groan, I open my eyes to meet those sparkling, stormy blue ones.
“Oh, sweetheart, you won’t be saying that when you see what I have planned.”
Lust, hot and heavy, races up my spine as he moves those skilled hands from my foot, up my calf, and behind my knee. A jolt of sensation, one I had no idea could occur from his fingers pressed behind my kneecap, hits me square in that little bundle of nerves between my thighs.
Sinclair’s expression is wolfish, a devil in plain clothes if I ever saw one. “There are much better things coming, if you catch my drift.”
34
Sinclair
“Are you okay?”
Frankie asks me this for the third time since we got in the car, and I know I have to focus.
Apparently, since getting sober, I’m fucking shit at keeping a secret. I used to be a charmer; the guy known for greasing wheels and appearing unfazed under pressure. Now, I could barely keep my hands from slipping off the steering wheel they were so sweaty.
Maybe it’s because I want this day to go off without a hitch. I haven’t really been in on the planning; I let my mom, Colleen, and Hannah handle it. But it’s a day all about celebrating Francesca and our son, and I just want her to feel so loved and pampered.
“I’m fine. Just, uh, haven’t had enough coffee today.”
I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. Perhaps because this is our first real event with the family as a couple. Frankie and I have been back together for two weeks now, and we’ve holed up in either one of our houses making up for lost time. Which we did primarily naked, thus not seeing a lot of people for the last fourteen days. I had a lot of exploring of Frankie’s pregnant body to do, and I wasn’t done yet.
Today, though, was the first time we were getting out of the house and spending time with the Callahan clan. And it’s for a party, though Frankie doesn’t know that. You’re not exactly supposed to tell your pregnant girlfriend about her surprise baby shower.
“Do you feel all right?” She reaches her hand across the car and puts the back of it to my forehead.
“You’re such a mom already,” I tease her.
“No fever.” She ignores me. “Hm, I think you’re suffering from dickitis. Which means we should get you home and naked stat.”
The minx smirks at me. And even though I need to pay attention driving and getting her and our baby safely to Walker’s house, I think about doing a donut and circling back to my place.
Except I know she’s avoiding. “This will be fun, I promise.”
Frankie shrugs in the passenger seat. “I still get nervous to be around your family. It’s not something I really did growing up, get together with dozens of relatives. I don’t even have five relatives I know about.”
“I know it’s an adjustment, but just know everyone wants you around. They’ve only spent short amounts of time with you, and already I think they like you more than they like me.”
That makes her laugh, and my soul calms a little bit. I reach across the center console and rest my hand on h
er thigh until she turns it up to lace her fingers through mine.
When we pull up to Walker’s house, I’m silently impressed that they managed to avoid having everyone’s cars in the driveways. I told Mom a small affair, which means she probably invited seventy-five people. But there are only three cars as I park behind Hannah’s black Escalade.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look today? And every day?” My hand helps my woman as she grunts to stand up, and I steady her.
Frankie taps a finger to her chin as she slows her breathing. “Only every other moment.”
I grin. Good. She should know how adored she is.
I brace myself as we walk up the front steps to Walker and Hannah’s palatial home. I know what’s behind this door, but she doesn’t, and I’m ready to hold her up if it gives her too much of a shock. Shit, I hope this doesn’t send her into labor or something. I hadn’t considered that. But I guess women have surprise baby showers all the time. Right?
Turning the doorknob, I’m ready for the shouts. What I’m not ready for is the entire place to be decked out in varying shades of blue, with balloons and giant teddy bears everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
“Surprise!”
A ton of people pop out from every nook and cranny of Walker’s foyer, and Frankie startles with a yelp. She presses her hand to her chest and starts to laugh, gasp, and tear up all at the same time.
“You did this?” She turns to me with stars in her eyes.
“I had the idea, but had a lot of help executing.”
“Sin …” She breathes, giving a surprised, happy wave to all of the people smiling back at her.
Then she comes toward me as I open my arms and presses up on her toes to give me a kiss—in front of everyone.
My heart surges with the fact that I can touch her, kiss her, claim her in public. And that she’s claiming me. There is no more hiding or uncertainty; we’re a unit.
“Come on, we have to show you the stroller!” Hannah runs up and takes Frankie by the hand.
Half the women, about thirty from my family, follow them to ooh and ahh over the mountain of gifts in the living room.
“How am I going to get all of those back to my house? I’m going to need to rent a tractor trailer,” I muse as Walker, Hayes, and Garrett walk up.
“Oh, it took nearly that to get them all in here.” My brother chuckles.
“I think you’ve got enough diapers for a nuclear apocalypse.” Garrett wrinkles his nose, I’m sure at the thought of changing one.
“Nah, that’ll only last about a month.” Dad joins our circle, and Walker and I look at him like he’s grown another head.
“You … you changed diapers? For some reason, I really can’t picture that.” Walker stares off as if he’s trying to picture it.
“Of course, I changed diapers … okay, some. Maybe a couple,” Dad spitballs. “But regardless, I know how many you two went through. And it’s a shit ton. Pun intended.”
I almost choke on my own tongue. Did my father just make a joke? A joke about babies, no less. At my girlfriend’s baby shower?
“Thanks for coming, Dad.” I genuinely thank him because his energy seems like he’s trying.
He nods. “Wouldn’t miss this. I have to go put my guess in for how many baby socks are in that jar.”
Then he walks off.
“Did someone snatch him? We’re sure that’s Daniel Callahan, right?” Hayes looks bewildered.
We don’t have time to chat more because we’re ushered into the living room, where the women start the most impressive assembly line of gift opening I’ve ever seen. I swear, they could fix the DMV in one afternoon with this system.
And as I watch, I realize Frankie and I won’t need to buy a single thing for this kid; my family has covered it all. My eyes barely leave Frankie as she coos over tiny boy clothing, handmade blankets, and plushy stuffed animals. I guess I haven’t really thought about her as a mother yet, since we’re still enjoying being a couple and the idea of our baby.
But my God, she’s going to make a fantastic one. I know we’re both anxious about it and feel unprepared, but she shouldn’t be at all. She has this natural glow and knowledge to her, and watching her handle the items with care shows me just one-hundredth of how loving she’ll be to our son.
“We have a onesie painting activity! Come on, everyone has to participate.” Colleen claps her hands, keeping the party going.
“Can’t we eat the cake yet?” Frankie asks. “I’m no artist.”
“This will be fun,” I promise her, helping her up from the gift chair and supporting her weight as we walk to the dining room. “Plus, I’ll go sneak you a piece of cake after everyone is seated.”
“You’re the best.” She kisses me, full on the mouth.
Once everyone is seated, I make good on my promise and cut her a huge slice of cake before the guests even have a chance to see it. Upon my return, I sit next to Frankie and watch as everyone begins decorating their little white piece of fabric.
Dahlia, Hannah’s sister, sits at the end of the table next to Clark. I’m not sure why Clark is at this baby shower, since he’s technically more of Walker’s friend than mine, but I’m sure he weaseled his way in. The Pistons reliever doesn’t have much family, and we’ve kind of adopted him over the years.
The two of them are making flirty eyes at each other. I can sort of remember now that they used to hook up. Or maybe they still are. Either way, Hannah is giving her sister an anxious glance, leading me to believe she doesn’t love that pairing.
Which is odd, since Hannah is usually the most understanding of us all. Not that I blame her, Clark is as bad as me in my heyday when it comes to women.
“Walk, yours looks like … a pig?” Colleen looks confused.
“It’s a baseball.” My brother pouts.
Hayes snorts. “How did you manage to make a circle not round?”
“I’m an athlete, not an artist. Jesus, cut me some slack!” He throws his hands up.
“Well, at least he has a theme. My onesie just turned into a glob of well-meaning paint.” Dahlia pouts at hers.
“I think it looks good,” Garrett pipes up, zeroing straight in on her cleavage and nowhere near the onesie.
Hannah’s eyes narrow even further at him, and I chuckle under my breath. These men better watch out when it comes to my sister-in-law.
“How about mine?” Colleen holds hers up.
It’s three puzzle pieces that all fit together, one with my name, one with Frankie’s, and a tiny one in the middle that says baby.
“Colleen, that’s beautiful.” I hear the emotion in Frankie’s voice.
“We’re really happy you’re in this family now,” Colleen says matter-of-factly.
Under the table, I seek my woman’s hand. She meets me in the middle, apparently looking to do the same.
“Garrett, you can’t draw a penis!” Walker chides the rookie.
That breaks the moment, and everyone bursts out laughing at his not-suitable-for-work onesie.
I wink at Frankie. “Guess our little guy really is going to take after his dad more than his mom.”
35
Sinclair
The court room is packed wall to wall, and I swear the entire Callahan family plus Hannah’s relatives from Hawaii and California have taken up residence in here.
Today, Walker is adopting Noelle and Breanna as his own daughters. It’s been a long time coming, and this is just a piece of paper, but the sentiment means more.
They’re finally going to be a complete, no-question-about-it family.
Here I am, solo as I’ve always been. And that’s because I like to fuck my own life up, time and time again. Because I avoided asking Frankie if she wanted to come, I didn’t invite her even when she gushed about how special it would be for Walker to finally adopt them. I actively didn’t engage, because I was in my head too much.
The baby shower brought up a lot of emotions that I’d been tamping do
wn for most of my life. I am now responsible for her heart, for her happiness, and for the well-being of our son. For a guy who had only taken control of his life less than two years ago, that’s a lot on one plate. I thought I was ready, but then I woke up yesterday morning and wanted to balk.
This is a private, family-only event. Being that Walker and Hannah have gone through so much to get to this point, they didn’t need anyone who wasn’t a close connection sharing this moment.
But … Frankie is close. She is the mother of my child, we’re going to bring another little Callahan into the world. And she is a part of my life, a part of all of our lives. Walker would not care if she came, in fact, he’d be happy if I brought her. Something in me had hesitated, though.
There is still the matter of Frankie being an employee of my family’s ball club. It’s an awkward spot to be in. She works for us, technically, but is also kind of part of the family if you count that she’ll be birthing a Callahan. I’m terrified to mix those two worlds, lest things fall apart between us. I don’t plan on that, but what if she decides she wants out?
What if she decides she doesn’t want to do this with me? That would probably mean leaving the Pistons organization, and I could never forgive myself for that. Frankie has worked so hard to get where she’s at in her career. And what would her colleagues say if they knew she was pregnant with the owner’s son’s baby? Scratch that, they definitely already know, even though she hasn’t broached the subject with me. They’d think she earned that promotion on her back, no matter how good she is at her job.
There are just a hundred factors to weigh, and it feels like we’re standing on razor-thin wires resting on skyscrapers trying to figure them out. I’m happy as fuck, but I don’t want it all to come crashing down. Once again, my fear is holding me back.
Check Swing (Callahan Family Book 3) Page 16
