by Jewel E. Ann
Nate shoves him back. Then two other guys join in as the ref and a few sensible teammates try to break it up. Once it’s broken up, Nate looks up at me. I blow him a kiss.
After the game, we grab pizza and head home because it’s late and it’s already past their bedtime.
“No dillydallying. School tomorrow,” I say after we eat.
“Fine.” Gabe and Morgan grumble in unison as they take Joby and Fritzy (Morgan’s cat) to their rooms.
Nate starts to help me clean up.
“I’ve got it. You need a shower.”
“I stink?”
I hold up my fingers an inch apart.
“Fine.” He mimics the kids and skulks toward our bedroom.
A few minutes later, I pick up pet toys, fold a few blankets, and stare at the photos on the walls. The photos from our backyard wedding always bring joy to my heart—Morgan in a pink dress as my maid of honor and Gabe in a gray suit and pink tie as Nate’s best man. We were surrounded by family and close friends, including Mr. Hans. The kids devoured cake as music serenaded us under strings of outdoor lights stretched like a spiderweb over the celebration.
“XO” by Keywest played when Nate took my hand and pulled me into his arms for our first dance.
“Elvis …”
I grinned.
“Lover …”
He grinned, pressing his lips to my bare shoulder. “My beautiful wife.”
A world of emotions washed over me. I had everything and so much more.
“How did we get here?” I pulled back, shaking my head as my hand pressed to his cheek, my thumb brushing his bottom lip that I would kiss very soon.
He nipped at the pad of my thumb. “It’s complicated.”
I grin at the photos—the memories of yesterday, the dreams of tomorrow—as I shut off the lights and kiss Gabe then Morgan goodnight. Life is pretty damn good.
The kids love school. Gabe has more friends now than he had in San Diego. He’s the star player on his soccer team. Morgan takes after Nate and is a natural at hockey—yes, she switched from figure skating to hockey. Her initial crush on Gabe is gone. She has a boyfriend at school that Nate doesn’t know about yet, and she fights with Gabe like the brother he’s become to her.
Me? Well, I bake and clean. Shop with Morgan. Help Gabe with homework. Walk the dog. Yeah … that’s about it. I’ve done the odd job thing for years. I don’t miss working forty-plus hours a week to make ends meet. Besides … I have some plans coming up.
“Not hogging all the hot water, are you?” I ask Nate as I remove my clothes.
“I’m trying. Feels good on my sore muscles.”
“Your muscles wouldn’t be sore if you didn’t engage in bad behavior. You’re too old to fight.”
“Please stop prefacing everything with I’m too old.”
I grin, opening the glass door to the shower filled with lots of body jets and a rainfall head from the ceiling. “Sorry. You’re too mature.” I take my loofa and scrub his back. “But…” I kiss along his shoulder blades “…I love watching you play. And the part of my brain that didn’t worry about you getting hurt, thought you fighting back was kind of hot.”
He turns, wearing a sexy grin. Wearing a sexy everything. All joking aside, my husband has kept his body in tip-top shape.
Me? Not so much, but you wouldn’t know it from the way he looks at me.
“How hot?”
I grin, sliding my hands down his chest. “Really hot.”
He watches my fingers trace his abs as they flex beneath my touch.
My gaze lifts to his. “Do you ever think about the people who had to die for us to meet? For us to be together? Do you ever wonder why? Like … is it a grand plan or is it just …” I shrug.
He smiles like for him it doesn’t matter. Nate is the most optimistic person I have ever known. “Or just what?” He brushes his wet lips over mine, teasing me as his fingers glide up my inner thighs. “Fortuity?”
“Yes,” I breathe into his mouth as he kisses me … as his fingers skip the part of my body I want him to touch. I know why he does it. He’s itching to spread his large hands over my belly to hold our daughter.
The End
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PROLOGUE
Heidi gave me a son and then I killed her. Lucky were the bastards who learned life lessons from close calls. I envied those lucky bastards.
“Don’t drink tonight. I want you to put another baby inside of me,” my wife whispered as her hand slid up my leg under the table surrounded by twelve of our closest family and friends. Heidi picked my favorite steak house in Omaha and reserved the party room for my special day. I had no idea until everyone yelled surprise.
I loved her beyond words.
“And for the birthday boy?” The brunette waitress winked at me, readying her pen against the pad of paper in her hand.
“Whisky neat.”
Heidi frowned.
I grabbed her hand and pressed it to my erection. “I’m not going to have any issues granting your request.”
“We’ll see.” Her curt response held little confidence.
My parents drove in from Denver to surprise me, but my two-year-old son, Harrison, stole the show. They took turns gushing over him with Heidi’s mom. I didn’t anticipate being a father before I graduated college; I also didn’t anticipate meeting the woman I couldn’t live without at the exact moment I needed her the most.
She was a nursing student at the hospital they sent me to the day an ACL injury shattered my football career. I called her an angel. Heidi insisted it was the drugs they gave me for the pain.
“Monaghan said you’re going to be his agent when he goes Pro.” My dad gave me a curious look.
“Monaghan is full of shit. No team in their right mind will draft Pretty Boy. He’s going to be a teacher. That right there shows you he’s too much of a pussy to have a serious chance in the NFL.”
The Cornhusker’s young quarterback shot me a smirk from the other end of the table. We both knew he’d go Pro, but I wasn’t going to inflate his ego on my birthday.
“Language, Hopkins,” Heidi warned.
When she called me by my last name, I squirmed in my chair. It always meant a punishment would follow—and all of her punishments were doled out in the bedroom.
I loved her beyond words.
The night marched on without missing one perfect beat.
Dinner. Friends. Family. Food. Drinks.
My wife outdid herself. She excelled in making every day perfect. She also excelled in making me feel irresponsible for drinking. Every time the waitress placed another drink in front of me, Heidi’s lips pursed into a disapproving frown.
I let it slide without argument. Before he died, her father drank a lot of alcohol and was abusive. When we met, she thought I didn’t drink. At the time, it was true. Football was my life. I treated my body like a temple. But after my injury, I settled into a life where my body was no longer a temple and the occasional drink was exactly what I needed to ease the pain of lost dreams.
Heidi thought every guy who drank was an abusive alcoholic. I made it my mission to prove her wrong so maybe someday she, too, would relax a little and have a drink on special occasions.
“Happy birthday, Flint. Take care of my babies.” My mother-in-law, Sandy, hugged me as everyone said their final birthday wishes and goodnights.
“That’s code for hand the keys to your wife.” Heidi nudged me with a playful smi
le that I knew was not at all meant to be playful.
Sandy squeezed my cheeks and looked into my eyes. “I think he’s fine, sweetie. Nothing like your father was so give him some slack.”
I shot Heidi an I-told-you-so look. Her mother loved me. I was everything her father hadn’t been. Heidi hated that I could do no wrong in Sandy’s eyes, but I loved it. A dangerous pride came with so much confidence.
After she fastened Harrison into his car seat, Heidi held out her hand.
“I’m fine.” I opened the driver’s door.
“You’re not. You drank a lot tonight.”
“I weigh a lot.”
“Flint.”
I slipped into the driver’s seat. “Call me Hopkins, baby. I like where that leads.”
“Flint, I’m serious. Our child is in the backseat.” She stood between me and the door so I couldn’t shut it.
“I want to be in my birthday suit with you. Get in so we can get Harrison to bed.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, raven hair flowing in all directions, blue eyes piercing mine.
“I’m. Fine.”
Heidi shrugged. “Great. Then don’t be a chauvinistic pig. Just let me drive.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance as a few drops of rain fell from the night sky.
“You’re going to get wet.”
She huffed and stomped to the other side of the car. “Stubborn ass,” she mumbled as she buckled up.
“Language, Mommy.” I chuckled as I started the car.
“There will be a special place in Hell for you, Flint Hopkins, if you kill us or anyone else with your drunk driving.”
I put the car in drive and cupped the back of her head, pulling her forehead to mine before letting up on the brake. “You’re my world. I would never hurt you. I love you beyond words.”
“Jesus, Flint …” she whispered. “Your breath reeks of whisky. I’m begging you. Let me drive.”
I released her and let up on the brake. As much as I loved my wife, I also loved being a man. And a strong man knew his limits and didn’t have to be told when he was or wasn’t capable of doing something.
*
Three days later I buried my wife in a cemetery two blocks from our house.
Buy Look the Part now!
Acknowledgments
Why is it so hard to say thank you? At this point, I worry about forgetting someone. My stories come to life from more than a handful of people who make them sparkle. It’s the inspiration and encouragement from readers who reach out via social media and email. I wish I could individually thank every single one of you by name.
I see you.
I appreciate you.
Of course, this story would not have seen the light of day without my readers asking for “more.” It’s an unreal sense of accomplishment to write something and have people want more. Thank you for asking for more Nate.
Thank you to my “guys” for letting me hide to get the words written. You are always my happily-ever-after.
My alpha and beta readers—Leslie (Mom), Kambra (Sis), Sian, and Shauna—you deserve a special thank-you for experiencing my stories at their absolute worst. Thank you to Max (The Polished Pen), Monique, Amy, and Bethany—a fantastic editing team—for making my shit shine.
Jenn Beach always deserves a huge thank-you, or at least a ride on a unicorn, for making me look so damn good in my newsletters. Let’s be honest, you do all the things that make me look organized and functional.
Sarah Hansen with Okay Creations—another beautiful cover. Thank you.
Ashlee O’Brien with Ashes & Vellichor, thank you for the beautiful trailer.
Social Butterfly PR, bloggers, Instagrammers, and Jonesies, and author buddies, thank you for your love and enthusiastic promotion of this story.
Paul with BB eBooks—you make the last step so seamless. Thank you.
Also by Jewel E. Ann
The Life Series
The Life That Mattered
The Life You Stole
Jack & Jill Series
End of Day
Middle of Knight
Dawn of Forever
Holding You Series
Holding You
Releasing Me
Transcend Series
Transcend
Epoch
Standalone Novels
Idle Bloom
Only Trick
Undeniably You
One
Scarlet Stone
When Life Happened
Look the Part
A Place Without You
Naked Love
Jersey Six
Perfectly Adequate
jeweleann.com
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About the Author
Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.
With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.
After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.
When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.
