by Kate, Jiffy
She sighs, leaning back against the seat. “And you’ll be there without any transportation.”
“You’re not far and I know how to dial 9-1-1.”
Huffing out a laugh, she shakes her head. “You’re so freaking stubborn.”
“I learned from the best.”
A few minutes later, Frank pulls up at Ross’s and I put in the code to let us into his drive. Charlotte insists on following me inside to make sure there aren’t any boogie men or crazy paparazzi hiding out. Once she’s satisfied the place is safe, she leaves, making me promise I’ll call and check in frequently. Of course, I do. I appreciate her concern and I love knowing she’s readily available if I need her, but this is where I want to be.
Standing in the space between the kitchen and living room, I turn in place, taking everything in. Even though Ross isn’t here, he’s still everywhere… in the coffee mug draining on the sideboard of the sink, in the bucket of baseballs by the backdoor of the kitchen, in the stack of sports magazines on the end table in the living room… with a baby book laying on top.
As I walk over and pick it up, I see he’s dog-eared a page, so I turn to it.
How to Support Your Soon-To-Be Mom
Smiling, I run a hand over the cover before placing it back in its spot.
Even though it feels good to be here, it’s too quiet. So, I go over and turn on the television, cueing it to ESPN. The Revelers game will be on soon, so I go into the kitchen to start a pot of decaf coffee. Just smelling the beans puts me in a good mood and fills the house with a familiarity that does my soul good.
Once that’s going, I walk down the hall to the office and flip on the light. Nothing looks like it’s been touched, which isn’t a surprise. During my time here, this became my domain. Even though it’s all of Ross’s personal business and effects, he allowed me to take it over.
Sitting down at the desk, I pop the laptop open and realize I haven’t checked my email today.
The last one Ross and I exchanged was from the day before last when he was on his way out of town. Hoping there might be something to set my mind at ease, I log in, but am met with a virtually empty inbox.
There are a few things that need to be dealt with, but nothing from Ross and nothing that needs immediate attention.
Sighing, I close it down and walk back into the kitchen to pour a mug of coffee, then settle on the couch. At least I’ll get to see him on the television for the next few hours. That’ll have to be enough to tide me over until he’s back home.
Home.
With me.
As much as I love this house, it isn’t home…he is.
Right before the game starts, my phone vibrates. Thinking it’ll be Charlotte checking in on me, I roll my eyes and then nearly drop the phone when I realize it’s not her name that pops up on my screen.
It’s Ross’s.
If you’re wondering how much I miss you, this is how much.
Holy cannoli, he actually texted me.
Swallowing, my thumb hovers over the screen. I want to touch the words, like they’re an extension of the man. He has no idea how much I needed that… those words, the connection… a life raft in a sea of uncertainty.
Not wanting to distract him from the game, I stall on a response. Do I respond? Do I wait? Unable to ignore it, I reply quickly, keeping it short and sweet.
I miss you too.
I wait for the text to be read, but as far as I can tell, it hasn’t been.
But Ross comes out on the field, looking like a man on a mission. He’s more focused than I’ve seen him in a long time. He makes it through the first two innings with only eighteen pitches, allowing no hits.
There’s no celebration or fanfare, just him out there on the mound taking care of business.
In the third inning, Mack comes out to the mound when Ross walks a batter. Part of me thinks this is where his game will shift and I worry he’ll fall back into the slump he’s still been trying to dig himself out of. But instead, he throws three consecutive strikes and finishes the inning strong.
During the fourth and fifth inning, it’s a mixed bag of strikeouts and pop flies, but still not one runner makes it to first base.
Even for someone like me, who’s not that great with the rules of baseball, I know this has the potential to be something great.
As Ross takes the mound in the sixth inning, the commentators begin discussing the possibility of a no-hitter and it spikes my anxiety and nervousness. I also am taken back to a conversation Ross and I had about how players don’t talk about no-hitters, especially not during a game.
In solidarity, I mute the television and watch the next two innings without any sound, except my own. The further the game goes, the more vocal I become. At some point, I shed the blanket I’d been hunkered down in and I’m no longer curled up on the couch, but pacing in front of the television.
In the eighth inning, the Revelers are up to bat and Ross hits a double, putting them up by six runs.
“Yes! Go, baby,” I yell.
And that’s when I feel it, a significantly noticeable kick to my abdomen.
Freezing mid-fist punch, I look down at my belly, willing it to happen again. After half a minute or so, when there’s no action, I start to walk around the living room, keeping an eye on the game as Ross comes up to pitch.
“Come on, baby,” I urge, to the one in my belly and the one on the television. Rubbing my round basketball that seems to be growing every day, I wait patiently for him to give me another kick so I know that’s what I felt.
When the umpire makes a crap call, I yell again, throwing my hands in the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Kick.
That one gets me, I can’t help it, I start laughing and then he does it again.
This baby likes it when I yell at the umpire.
He’s totally my kid.
I wish I could jump through the screen and tell Ross to feel it… I’m in awe of the life growing inside me.
We did this.
And I want to share every moment with him.
As I look back up at the game, I catch it just in time to see a batter crush one of Ross’s pitches into left field. Holding my breath, I will the outfielder, Ramirez, to catch the ball, but it’s just out of his reach. He slides to the ground and the ball rolls away from him. The centerfielder scoops it up and launches it to second base, halting the runner, but he still makes it to base.
Dang it.
The camera goes back to Ross and the disappointment is evident on his face and the way his shoulders slump. I watch as he shakes his head, wiping the sweat from his brow. To his credit, he strikes out the next batter to end the inning. And even with the hit, this is still the best game he’s pitched all year.
The crowd cheers for him as he walks to the dugout. When they continue, he steps back out and takes off his cap again, waving in gratitude.
I can’t help the swell of pride I feel inside.
He’s amazing, not just because he’s so freaking talented, but because he’s quiet in his confidence and gracious in his achievements.
There are so many things about Ross Davies the fans never see. They don’t see the way he cares for people around him. They don’t see how he’ll go out of his way to help someone else. They don’t know how respectful he is of his parents and how grateful he is for everything in his life, never taking anything for granted.
That’s the kind of person I want my son to have as a father.
Just as I’m getting ready to turn the television off and find a book to read, the camera zooms in on Ross as he puts on a headset. Turning the volume back up, I soak him in—messy hair from working his ass off, chiseled jaw hidden by a few days’ worth of scruff, those eyes that see my soul… lips that I miss kissing.
“Ross, tell us what was going through your mind during tonight’s game,” the reporter says from behind the camera.
Ross shakes his head, eyes darting to the ground. “I was just out there
trying to throw some good pitches and hoping for a good game.”
“I’d say you did more than throw some good pitches,” he replies. “After you hit that double in the eighth, it seemed like tonight was your night. I know I speak for everyone in the stands, but we thought we were going to witness your first no-hitter.”
“A no-hitter is kind of like Fight Club… we don’t talk about it,” Ross says with a grin.
“Fair enough,” the reporter says. “So, let’s switch gears. I always like to ask players what they miss about their home field when they’re away. Besides the fans, what’s something you miss when you’re on the road?”
Ross pauses, bringing his hand up to his mouth and pinching his lips in thought. “I’d have to say the peanuts,” he finally answers, glancing up and meeting the lens of the camera with those bright green eyes.
Chapter 31
Ross
Pulling up to my gate, I exhale a huge breath.
It might be after midnight and I may be exhausted… and it might seem dark and lonely, but it’s still good to be home, more so tonight than usual because it brings me one step closer to being with Casey.
Tomorrow morning, when I wake up, I’m going straight to Charlotte and Bo’s house.
Casey and I are going to talk and I’m going to lay it all on the line for her.
The need to tell her how I feel—how much I love her and want to be with her—is overwhelming. It’s been building up inside me for days now, like a bomb about to detonate, and I can’t wait much longer. Regardless of how she feels for me, I have to tell her I want a life with her and our son. I’ll be as patient as she needs me to be, take this as slow as she needs, but I want her to know I’m committed.
After I open the door and toss my bag down in the foyer, I reset the house alarm and toss my keys onto the table. Bypassing the kitchen, I head straight for the stairs. My bed is calling my name.
Walking into the room, I lean down to turn a lamp on and I’m momentarily startled by the lump in my bed. Then that rush of fear turns to a ball of emotions I find hard to describe—exhilaration, relief, gratefulness…
As I kneel down beside the bed, I’m greeted with the sweetest sounds—Casey’s deep breaths, followed by the cutest snores I’ve ever heard.
My heart races as I realize she’s really fucking here. And she’s in my bed. Our bed.
So many questions flood my brain.
How long has she been here?
Where’s her car?
Did she watch the game?
More importantly, did she see my interview?
Even more importantly, does she love me as much as I love her?
I should let her sleep, I know I should, but I can’t. I need to see her beautiful eyes, to talk to her, feel her skin against mine, and I need it right fucking now.
Standing, I quickly undress—only leaving on my boxer briefs—and turn back to her, realizing she’s kicked the blanket down to the end and is tangled in the sheets, taking up more than half the bed.
I can’t help but chuckle at how freaking cute she is.
And she’s here.
Exactly where I need her to be.
When I slip into bed behind her, I drape my arm over her hip and place my hand on top of her belly, pulling her as close as I can get her.
Our Peanut.
I know it’s only been a little over a week since I saw her last, but she’s gotten bigger, which both delights and angers me. I love seeing her body change as our son grows and I don’t want to miss any of it, regardless of how small. I want Casey with me all the time. If I didn’t think it would be too tiring for her, I’d ask her to travel with me.
As I begin rubbing small circles on her stomach with my thumb, she lets out a deep sigh, almost as though even while sleeping, she knows I’m here and she’s relieved. I hope that’s true.
Not able to help myself any longer, I place my lips above her ear and kiss her hair, inhaling her sweet scent as I do. When I feel her body tense, I know she’s awake.
“Ross?” she whispers, her voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah, baby. I’m home.”
“I’m glad.” She snuggles into me and laces her fingers through mine, still on top of her stomach. Her ass pushes against my dick and I try not to groan at the contact. I’d love nothing more than to take her right the fuck now, but first, we have to talk.
“Case, are you awake?”
“Kinda.”
“I need to talk to you.”
She lets go of my hand and rolls onto her back, a look of apprehension clouding her face. I rub my thumb over her forehead and down her cheek and jaw, hoping to reassure her before I say anything more. When I give her a small smile, she relaxes a bit and the squeeze around my heart eases as well.
“First of all, Bo told me you saw the photos of me and Felicia from the other day and I just want you to know I’m sorry about that. The whole thing was a set-up…and the pictures don’t tell the true story.”
“What is the true story?” she asks and I can tell she’s open to hearing me out and not jumping to conclusions. I love that about her, that she wants my side of things and trusts me enough to be here after everything she’s seen.
Leaning in, I place a small kiss on her cheek and then her lips, before giving her the truth. “I met her in Jackson Square because I needed answers, and I wanted her to know she couldn’t talk to you like she did. Of course, she had an agenda and didn’t like me calling her out on her bullshit. I should’ve known she was behind the fucking paps following us around and the gossip columns posting the story. I just didn’t think she’d stoop so low, but once I started putting it all together…”
I pause, letting out a humorless laugh. “I was pissed…couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. Then she came at me with a sob story about wanting me back and wanting to try for a baby.”
Casey goes still in my arms and I pull her closer, not wanting her to put up any walls or space between us. “What did you say?” she asks, swallowing down her fears. I hear them and recognize them and immediately squash them.
“I told her that was never happening because I belong to someone else.”
“You do?” she asks, letting out a shaky breath.
Pulling her hand up, I kiss her fingers, then place it on my chest, hoping she feels it beating… just for her. “I do,” I say, my voice sounding like it’s being raked over gravel. “You own me, Casey Carradine, body and soul. And, if you’ll have me, I want to be yours... I love you.”
A tear rolls down her cheek and she lets out a tiny sniffle before smiling up at me. “I love you.”
Three words.
The best three words in the world and when they spill from her mouth, my world rights itself—everything shifting into place and changing me forever.
I feel complete.
Not able to hold off any longer, I kiss her, claiming her just as she claims me. It’s an all-consuming kiss full of emotion and promises and I never want to stop.
“Ross, I need you,” Casey moans when I start kissing down the column of her neck.
I pull back and look at her, wanting to be sure. I want her so badly I can barely breathe but I want to be certain it’s safe for her and the baby.
“Can we still do that?”
She giggles, the sound and the look on her face as she gazes up at me making my dick harden even more. “We can and we definitely should. Many times, in fact.”
That’s all I need to hear. Running my hand up her thigh, I slip my fingers under the hem of her panties and cup her ass.
“But first, I have some things I need to tell you too,” she groans, tipping her head back as I kiss my way down her neck, heading straight for her glorious tits.
Those are growing too and I fucking love them.
And I’ve missed them.
“Can it wait?” I ask, already losing myself to the haze of lust I feel every time I’m with her.
She lets out another breathy moan, shaking her hea
d. “No, I need to talk… talk first, then sex… lots of sex.”
Reluctantly, I pull back. Looking down at her, I brush a strand of hair out of her face. “You have the floor.”
With flushed cheeks, she smiles up at me looking more gorgeous than any woman should have the right to. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she exhales. “This is my two-week notice.”
Pulling my head back, I frown, wondering if I misread something. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to work for you anymore,” she continues. “Well, at least not for pay… I want to take care of you, which means I’ll still check your emails and make your coffee and schedule your interviews… and pay your bills.” Pausing, her eyes lock onto mine. “I want to wake up every morning in your bed and sleep every night in your arms… well, at least when you’re not on the road.”
She places her hand on my chest, right over my heart.
“And I want a life with you, whatever that looks like. The good, the bad… the reporters and gossip columns,” she says with a laugh and I hug her to me, kissing the top of her head.
If I could, I would protect her from all of the bullshit that comes with my job, but the fact she’s willing to accept all of it and is going in with her eyes wide open, makes me the happiest man on earth.
She sighs into my neck and I feel her mood shift before she continues. “I don’t want you to ever doubt my love for you… or wonder if I’m going to leave you, because I’ll always love you and you won’t ever get rid of me. It’s me and you,” she whispers.
“And Peanut,” I add.
“And Peanut,” she agrees, melting into me.
Needing her naked, I tug at the bottom of the shirt until she leans up and lets me take it off, tossing it to the floor behind me. “I want more babies with you,” I confess, as I crawl down her body. “All the babies.”
“All the babies,” she whispers.
