Copyright © 2018 by Kate Christie. Second Growth Books, Seattle, WA. Cover Design: Kate Christie.
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual organizations, persons (living or dead), events, or incidents is purely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To the women who have spoken up and to those who haven’t: WE GOT THIS.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To the fans of Emma and Jamie’s story who reached out to let me know they wanted to read more: Thank you! This novel and the next in the GoS series exist because of you.
Chapter One
“Hand me a baby wipe, will you?”
Jamie glanced around the living room. A baby wipe? Where the hell was she supposed to find a baby wipe?
From her vantage point on the corner of the couch, Emma uttered a quiet laugh that cut off as Jamie’s gaze skittered back to her. “Maybe bring me the diaper bag?” Emma suggested, her tone suspiciously neutral.
Of course—the diaper bag and its endless contents. Why hadn’t Jamie thought of that? She reached for the battered black bag peeking out from under the coffee table, its sides decorated with fading Dr. Seuss characters, and took a calming breath. It wasn’t like Emma had asked her to change the baby. Thank god.
As Emma made short work of the newborn infant’s diaper, Jamie couldn’t stop the disgusted sound that escaped the back of her throat. Seriously, how did someone that small produce that much excrement? Emma rolled her eyes at her response, and Jamie felt a flare of irritation. She had told Emma they were too new to do the baby thing. She didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do with an infant. But Emma had only smiled and said, “That’s okay. I do.”
And it was true, she did appear to know how to take care of a squirming, squalling newborn. In her eight years on the national team, Emma had obviously embraced her role as adopted auntie to the half dozen children whose player moms had lugged them to tournaments across the globe. Yet somehow this knowledge did little to assuage the panic that rose in Jamie’s chest every time she thought about holding the baby herself. It wasn’t her thing, a fact that Emma didn’t seem to find relevant.
“Can you take her?” she asked, tucking the soiled diaper into a plastic bag. “I need to wash my hands.”
Jamie tried to school her features into less deer in the headlights and more confident adult doing normal adult things. “Um…”
“Come sit next to me.” Emma nodded to the couch cushion.
Warily, Jamie approached. At least the baby—no, she corrected herself, Julia—had ceased her pitiful mewling now that she was clean and dry.
“Here.” Emma held out the tiny infant. “Don’t worry, you’ll do great. I’ll help you. Okay?”
Reluctantly Jamie extended her arms, arranging them as Emma directed. And then Emma was smiling softly into her eyes and placing the baby in the cradle of her arms.
“See? You’re a natural. Make sure you support her head. I’ll be right back.”
Alarmed, Jamie looked up. But Emma was already retreating down the hallway leaving her alone with the—with Julia.
For a moment Jamie closed her eyes. You couldn’t break a baby, right? Like, that wasn’t a thing, was it? Unless you dropped it. Or inadvertently smothered it… Her eyes popped open and she quickly checked the baby, relieved to see herself being watched by eyes that slid in and out of focus. Outwardly the infant’s airway appeared clear, and there was every reason to believe that was the case inwardly as well. Jamie forced her shoulders to relax. She could do this. The baby couldn’t even move on her own. If Jamie could go one-on-one against Phoebe Banks, the best goalkeeper in the world, she could hold a baby without breaking it.
Huh. She hadn’t known a newborn would be this small. She stared into Julia’s flint grey eyes, so unlike her mother’s hazel ones, and let herself feel the heft of the tiny creature in her arms, warm and soft and incredibly light weight. Were newborn bones hollow, like a bird’s skeleton? She would have to Google that.
Slowly, as the seconds passed and Baby Julia watched her with a permanently confused, wondering gaze, Jamie settled into the couch. This wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty cool to bear witness to the beginning of a life. Hard to imagine it now, but one day this baby would become a girl who would walk and then run and then, more than likely given her parentage, chase a soccer ball across the first of many fields. She smiled as she imagined watching the future girl enter a stadium in her crisp American uniform; cheering her on as she tracked down an opposing player the way her mom had done for years; celebrating as she lifted a gold medal high in the air, her teammates around her.
No pressure, though. Maybe the kid wouldn’t even like sports. Some people didn’t, a fact Jamie had long acknowledged to be true (her own sister and mother, for example) but had never quite been able to accept in her heart.
Julia gurgled, almost like she was trying to assure her that she would—duh—like sports, and Jamie murmured, “Of course you will, little one. Of course you will.”
The baby’s mouth formed a slight “O” at the sound of her voice, and her eyes landed again on Jamie, who felt the weight of her stare like a physical touch. This tiny creature was relying on her for protection and safety. Not like the baby had a choice, but still, she could have been screaming bloody murder. Instead she was snuggled into Jamie’s arms like she belonged there. Like they both belonged in this moment, together. Jamie felt her own breath slowing, her heart rate evening out. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Julia, not on her watch. And all at once she felt it, this new sensation that had been steadily creeping over her ever since she’d decided to move home: She was ready for the next stage of her life, whatever it might bring.
Julia gurgled and squirmed, mouth twisting. Jamie rocked her experimentally, watching her face. The movement seemed to help, and she smiled, inordinately proud that she had managed to relieve the baby’s discomfort. She had thought about babies in the abstract plenty. She’d known since college that she wanted to settle down one day and start a family of her own. But babies in theory were considerably less daunting than one in the actual flesh. Although now that she was holding this particular one, daunting felt like the wrong word. Entrancing was perhaps better, or fascinating, or even incredible. Because the miracle of life? Turned out it was aptly named.
She was so focused on the infant in her arms that she didn’t notice Emma until she swooped in beside her and rested her chin on Jamie’s shoulder.
“Hello again, Baby Julia,” she cooed. “Are you my sweetest girl?”
Jamie’s open mouth rivaled the baby’s. “I thought that was my nickname!”
“No, you’re my sweetest woman.”
“I see how it is—already giving away my nicknames.”
“Guess you’ll have to learn to share.”
She watched Emma tickle the baby’s cheek. “You’re beautiful,” she said.
“So are you.” Dimple evident, Emma leaned in to kiss her.
Jamie yelped and drew away. “Dude! Not in front of the baby!”
Emma huffed out a laugh. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. Because!”
“You’re weird,” Emma said, and pecked her cheek before pulling back. “Do you want me to take her?”
Actually, she didn’t. “Um, no?�
�
“I told you, you’re a natural.”
Emma rested her arm against Jamie’s shoulders and they settled comfortably together, alternately chatting and fussing with the baby. Soon Julia’s eyes began to close, and Jamie felt her own eyelids grow heavy, almost as if the baby were hypnotizing her.
“It’s okay,” Emma murmured, slipping her other arm under Jamie’s to help support the baby. “You can go to sleep. I know you’re still jet-lagged.”
Jamie started to protest, but Emma was warm and the couch was comfortable, and Baby Julia was full-on dozing now. She gave up the fight and let her eyes fall shut, settling in more fully against Emma. “Maybe just a short nap.”
She felt Emma’s lips press against her temple, her breath fan across her forehead. “Sleep well, my sweet girls.”
Maybe they could do the baby thing, after all.
#
“Damn, you two don’t waste time, do you?” an amused voice commented at much too high a decibel for someone that close.
Jamie blinked awake to find Ellie standing over them, her grin teasing, as Grant Baker lifted a bag of groceries onto the kitchen counter. In the near distance, she heard footsteps galloping down the stairs to the lower level of the house. They were back.
“Again, Elle,” Emma said, yawning and stretching beside her, “we’ve known each other longer than you’ve known Jodie.”
“Yeah, yeah. How’s my goddaughter? I missed you, Julia,” she added, sitting down on Jamie’s other side and bending her head to inhale the baby’s downy hair. “God, I love how babies smell.”
Jamie frowned. “Everyone always says that, but she smells sort of sour to me.”
“Thanks a lot,” Tina Baker said as she climbed the stairs from the lower level, her two sons trailing in her wake. “That is my child you’re talking about.” She stopped, lifting her hand to her chest dramatically. “Wait. You’re holding her, Max?”
“I am capable of holding a baby.” Although she wasn’t sure how much longer that would be true. Her arm was asleep.
“I don’t think it’s the capability she’s questioning,” Emma said, “as much as the willingness.”
Everyone paused as the boys accosted their mother for a snack, but Grant intervened. “I’ve got it,” he said, giving his wife a quick kiss.
“Thanks, love.” Tina sighed as she settled on the couch next to Emma and hefted her feet onto the coffee table.
Ellie leaned forward, eyes on the exhausted mom. “Speaking of love… Aren’t these two almost disgustingly cute?” She waved at Emma and Jamie.
“They are,” Tina agreed. “Awfully domestic, too. What do you gal pals call it, U-hauling?”
Emma rose. “And on that note… Jamie, do you want to get going now that Mama Bear is back? By which I mean you, of course, Ellie.”
The national team captain held out her arms eagerly. “Come to Mama Bear.”
Jamie almost didn’t want to relinquish her charge, which she knew was silly. She would see the baby again in a matter of hours. Steeling herself, she smiled sadly down at Julia and handed her over.
“Sorry again to crash your date,” Tina said. “But can I just say I thought you were together at January camp?”
“They claim they weren’t,” Ellie said, gaze fixed on her goddaughter. “They were being clueless, weren’t they, widdle wun?”
“Where are you going tonight?” Tina asked, ignoring Ellie’s lapse into baby talk. With two older kids, she had undoubtedly seen it before.
Jamie shrugged, slipping her phone and wallet into her jeans as she followed Emma toward the front door. “We haven’t decided. By the way, did you get any sleep down there?”
“I did. It was lovely.” Tina smiled. “Thanks for loaning me your room—and for babysitting.”
“Anytime.” Emma slipped her hand into Jamie’s. “See you guys later.”
“Have fun,” Tina said.
“Don’t stay out too late, kids,” Ellie added, but her attention was clearly on the little girl dozing in her arms.
They grabbed their jackets from the front closet and then they were outside, following the paved path to the driveway where Jamie’s hatchback was parked. Ellie’s Explorer and the Bakers’ minivan were in the other half of the driveway, shiny and new and big compared to her more modest set of wheels. Emma’s car, meanwhile, was parked on the street. Jamie was kind of happy she drove something as low-key as a Subaru.
“Sorry about that,” she said, waving toward the house. “I didn’t realize Tina would be here today.”
“Are you kidding? That was a perfect way to spend the afternoon. Well, almost perfect…”
As they neared the driveway, Jamie felt hands propel her forward into the side of her car, and then Emma was turning her and moving in for a long kiss. Jamie’s body, already on notice at Emma’s proximity, immediately went on full alert, and it was all she could do not to groan into the kiss. It had been too long. She and Emma had made out plenty in California, among other things, but with the nature of her injury at January camp, she hadn’t been up for anything strenuous. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She would have been only too happy to have her way with Emma, but Emma had insisted on waiting for their first time until they were both healthy.
If Jamie had known it would take this long to be in the same city, she would have pressed the issue. Somehow weeks had turned into almost two months apart as they kept missing each other. First there had been Emma’s road trip with the national team, during which Jamie had remained in Berkeley for physical therapy. By the time her leg was fully rehabbed and her dad had helped her move up to Portland, Emma had a meeting in New York at the children’s medical charity her family helped fund—for real this time. After that, she’d left directly from the East Coast to join the national team in Portugal for the Algarve Cup. They’d joked that their planes had passed somewhere over the Atlantic, but it was literally possible: The same day Emma returned from Europe, Jamie headed to London to prepare for Champions League. She’d only gotten back to the States a few days earlier and launched immediately into the remainder of NWSL pre-season. Today was Emma’s first day off from the Reign in a week, and here she was at last, and here they were kissing—at last.
When they finally broke apart, Emma smiled up at her. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I got here.”
“Me too,” Jamie admitted, almost shyly. Which was ridiculous, because she and Emma had been official for a while now. But ridiculous or not, the time apart had led her to wonder how Emma would feel when they were finally in the same room again. Judging from her kiss, she still felt the same.
“Are you hungry?” Emma asked, body still pressing into Jamie’s.
She swallowed, tempted to make a crass quip. They weren’t quite there yet, were they?
“And before you go all Angie Wang on me,” Emma added, leaning in to breathe against her neck, “you should know that I intend to ravage you later. But for now,” she sucked lightly on Jamie’s earlobe, “I need actual food.” She pulled back, dimple flashing mischievously.
Jamie closed her eyes and tilted her head back, shaking her head at the ash-colored sky. “I swear, Blake, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“Drama queen. Now come on. What’s the plan?”
In anticipation of Emma’s visit, Jamie had mined Ellie and Jodie, her fiancée, for Portland restaurant recommendations. As they slid into the car she asked, “What type of ambiance are you in the mood for? Like, candles and low light, or bright lights and diner food? Or something else?”
“Um…”
Jamie was backing down the driveway, but she could hear the hesitation in Emma’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s—I’m not sure I’m in the mood for the whole restaurant thing.”
They were out on the road now, a quiet street in Southwest Portland situated midway between Providence Park Stadium downtown and the Thorns practice facility in Beaverton. Jamie braked, slowing their descent
into the city, and glanced at Emma. “What are you in the mood for, then?”
“Honestly? I would love to get take-out and find a park or someplace else with a view. I just want to be with you.”
Jamie pondered the request. The spring day had been fairly warm, and it hadn’t rained recently. She kept a blanket and a couple of camp chairs in the back of her car they could use if it got chilly, and anyway, she had never been a huge fan of supposedly romantic restaurant dates. They seemed forced somehow, like the participants were playing a part in a show that was more for other people. Emma being Emma meant that there was always the risk she would be recognized, too, especially in soccer-crazy Portland. Better not to risk having their limited time together interrupted by star-struck soccer fans.
“Let’s do it,” she said, smiling over at Emma. She was here, her brain marveled. In Jamie’s car! Preparing to take a meal with her! And, you know, do other stuff later. Holy crap. Holy crap, crap, CRAP. But Jamie swallowed down her mixed nerves and anticipation over the end of the date and focused on the more immediate question: “What kind of take-out?”
A little while later they were camped out on a hillside lawn in a park not far from Ellie’s house, the city spread out below, legs tucked under a shared fleece blanket as they washed down copious amounts of Whole Foods sushi with water and miniature bottles of wine. The sun was still a ways from setting, but low clouds blocked the view of area peaks. Supposedly this was the highest point in Portland. From her daily runs around the neighborhood Jamie knew that on a clear day both Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens—as well as a few other Cascade volcanoes—were visible.
Sushi was an excellent finger food, Jamie decided, although Emma wielded chopsticks like a pro as she said, “Tell me more about London. Did you have fun with Britt?”
“Sure, if you don’t count the whole losing thing.”
Arsenal’s 2013-14 Champions League campaign had ended in the quarterfinals. This was good news for her NWSL commitments because if Arsenal had won this round, they would have played two more matches in April and, potentially, the finals in May. Still, Jamie couldn’t pretend she wasn’t disappointed by the result. Arsenal had been her home for the last three years, and the final loss at home to Birmingham City meant her time in London was over for now. She’d actually teared up when it came time to board the plane for the US. The thought of seeing Emma soon, though, had consoled her as she’d traversed the Atlantic for the fifth time since December.
Outside the Lines Page 1
