Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance

by Sosie Frost

  “Permission to be absolutely terrified while you’re on the field?”

  “You have nothing to fear, Rory.” He reached for me but got tangled in the plastic. Somehow he’d looped his foot through the belly hole and yanked too hard, nearly tripping. “Though if I break a leg on an inflatable pregnancy mattress, they won’t let me within five miles of a stadium.”

  “Careful. I’m not an orthopedic doctor.”

  “Take the stethoscope off, Doc. I don’t need an MRI, but I could use a cheerleader.”

  “You have a deal…as long as I don’t have to wear the skirt.”

  “What about pom-poms?”

  “Only because it’s the championship.”

  Jude grinned, wrestling with the mattress once more. “You’ll see. I’m gonna play, and I’ll do it safe. We’ll get the win, and then…”

  I met his gaze. My heart fluttered in the best way.

  This was it.

  I heard it in his voice, saw it in his eyes.

  The same promises and hopes and secrets I’d kept for so long. He felt it too.

  And he was going to tell me.

  “And then…?” My voice hushed as I gazed at the most beautiful, most amazing man I’d ever known.

  “And then we make a judgment call.”

  Not the declaration I’d imagined. Less romantic and more…clinical. “What sort of judgment call?”

  Jude lowered his head and huffed into the mattress once more. “About next season.”

  No.

  No, no, no.

  I pushed myself off the couch in a fantastic feat of strength. “You aren’t serious? Another season?”

  “A lot can happen in the off-season.” He didn’t look at me. “I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

  “Do you want to keep that mind from leaking out of your ears? You can’t possibly play another season.”

  “We have time to talk about that later.”

  “No. We don’t.” My words caught in my throat. “We have to talk it over now.”

  “Why?”

  I couldn’t believe I was saying it.

  “Because if you play another season, you’re doing it alone.”

  The mattress fell. “What?”

  I closed my eyes. I still imagined him there. Strong. Powerful. Crippled by an injury he couldn’t see or understand. I saw both the boy I knew as a child and the man I loved. The friend and the lover, the strong athlete and the stubborn patient.

  “I can’t watch you hurt yourself.”

  “Rory—”

  “I’m in love with you, Jude.”

  Time stopped, and my heart halted with it. Silence fell. Even the baby went still, waiting for the mic to drop or my water to break.

  “You’re…” Jude stared at me, the little squeal of air fleeing from the mattress matching the shrillness in his voice. He cleared his throat. “You’re in love with me?”

  “Yes! And you’re a complete idiot.”

  “Wait…what?”

  “I’ve been in love with you for years. Most of my life. Ever since we were kids. You were the only boy, the only man I’ve ever loved. I’ve wanted no one else but you for as long as I can remember, and now that you’re here and we’re together…”

  I was yelling the truth at him.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

  We were meant to fall into each other’s arms. Whisper our passion. I imagined him. Me. The baby.

  A family of cuddles and warmth and so much love.

  Instead, I had a half-inflated mattress, a nearly brain-damaged fake boyfriend, and a baby who wouldn’t stop twerking on my bladder.

  It wasn’t how I imagined this, but it could all be fixed. He just needed to understand.

  His career was over. It was time to play his last game and retire with dignity. I wanted him to walk away, not get carted off the field in another moment of terror.

  Jude stared at me, his eyes sparking a brilliant silver. “You’re in love with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “…Do you know how much I love you?”

  I nearly burst into tears. I shook my head. No. I wanted to hear it. I had to hear it.

  “You’re gonna make me count the ways when I can’t even remember what I had for lunch?”

  “The team had a catered lunch from DeLuca’s.”

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Let’s not find out. Don’t give me a reason to leave.”

  Jude sat back on his heels. He tossed the mattress away. “You know I wasn’t looking for anyone to love. It just happened. I couldn’t help but fall for you. And I’m sorry. I wanted to be a gentleman and friend. I never meant to complicate your life.”

  “Complicate away, Jude.”

  “You are everything I’ve ever needed…and I didn’t know how much I wanted it.” He looked away. “But you have to support me on this. If I choose to do another season—”

  “I can’t. Don’t make me choose.”

  “Choose what?”

  I shook my head. “Between the baby and you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I have to put the baby first. I can’t…I can’t let you play. If you hurt yourself again, if you needed help—”

  “I don’t need help.”

  “Yes, you do.” I stepped closer, kissing his trembling hand. “You’re going to need new examinations and tests. Physical therapy. A rotation of new medication until we can find the combination that helps you the most. I’m not afraid of the work, Jude. I’m afraid of you making it worse and me not being able to…”

  “I’m fine, Rory. The only thing I need is you and…” He reached out, touching my tummy. “The baby. That’s all I want.”

  “And what happens if the injury destroys your impulse control? Or it makes you irrationally, uncontrollably, violently angry?” I looked away. “When you forget to turn the oven off? When you accidentally flood the tub and bathroom?”

  “What?”

  “You left yesterday morning without getting into the bath. It flooded. I mopped it up—”

  “You know I’m forgetful. That happens. But if you’re with me—”

  “You’re willing to risk your life?”

  “I’m not going to die on the field.”

  “It’s not about the game, Jude! Every hit you take will ruin a year later in your life. I want a future with you. I want to be with you and love you and…” A tear rolled over my cheek. “I’d love to raise Genie with you. But I have to know that you’ll be there.”

  “Don’t, Rory. If you knew how much I loved you—”

  “I need you to love yourself now. Realize you’re a good man, a compassionate man. Someone who doesn’t need the game to define who he is.”

  “I don’t have a choice in this.”

  “Then neither do I.” I held the tears back with gritted teeth. “The baby is due in two weeks. I’ll start looking for a new apartment.”

  “Don’t do this to me.”

  “We’ll say it was amiable. That we broke up because we wanted different things. At least…that will be the truth.”

  “But I only want you and the baby.”

  “I love you, Jude. And I want to take care of you…but first you have to decide to take care of yourself.”

  He didn’t answer. I escaped to the guest room and clutched the sweet teddy bear he had bought for Genie. The little fuzz-ball had his jersey, and I knew it would be her favorite toy—if only because he gave it to her.

  I waited well into the night before I ventured out of the room.

  The mattress, fully-inflated, propped against my door. I brought it inside and rested on it.

  Jude was right. It was comfortable.

  If only it could have cradled my broken heart.

  22

  Rory

  I wasn’t used to being the one prodded on the exam table. Of course, Doctor Fawna offered to let me check my own dilation and effacement at thirty-nine weeks. She then
laughed as I attempted to bend, roll, and yoga stretch my way down under.

  Yeah. It wasn’t going to happen.

  I could hardly shave my legs, let alone twist in the right way to even see that part of me. Hell, I was lucky if I even wore a matching pair of shoes.

  Uh-oh. I grunted and kicked my feet up. Nope. Two different colors.

  Oh, well. It wasn’t like I had anyone to impress.

  The Rivets stayed in a hotel for the week to focus on the championship game. I hadn’t even said goodbye before Jude left. I didn’t know what to say. And I couldn’t worry about it, not when I had to concentrate on Genie.

  I reclined on the chair and gave up trying to unstick the hygienic paper from the back of my thighs. I tucked the sheet around me and preemptively scooted into the stirrups.

  Nope. Didn’t help my back pain. Now I was just uncomfortable.

  Fortunately, this was probably my last visit before the big day. My blood pressure was good, and, as much as I enjoyed a good urine sample, I celebrated this final time to pee in a cup. Just wish I had something better to use to toast the lab tech.

  All that remained was counting the days until I got to meet my daughter.

  And then we’d figure out what to do from there. Hopefully, she’d be born with a plan, because I was scraping the bottom of the optimism barrel.

  The door opened. I tucked the blanket over my waist and greeted Doctor Fawna.

  “Is there any way we can start on the pain-killers now? I really don’t want to have any pain…”

  I turned.

  It was not Doctor Fawna who decided to look me over. My step-mother decided it was time to cross-examine me.

  “Mom!” I slammed a hand against the sheet and squeezed my legs shut. “What are you doing in here? I’m sorta…busy.”

  “You realize, Aurora…I delivered both of your step-brothers naturally?”

  “Oh, that explains a lot.”

  I shifted, but my butt ripped the paper as I struggled to sit up. Screw it. I wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, the flash of my hooha wouldn’t scare Regan—pretty sure that’s what she saw when she looked in the mirror.

  “You’re wise to ask for the drugs,” she said.

  I waited. No backhanded insult swung around. No—I wouldn’t expect you to handle it—or—you could plan for a perfect birth…or you could do it your way. I frowned. Something must have been wrong.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  Regan paced the room. She surveyed the equipment and checked to ensure that the office was tidy. “Labor is a trying ordeal. It’s good that you’re planning what you’d like to happen in the delivery room now.”

  “Yep.” I prepared for the insult, the declaration of my faults, the expectation for me to replicate everything Regan had done for her sons.

  She gave me nothing.

  I clutched the sheet. “Shouldn’t you be…working? Children to save, villages to burn, gold to hoard?”

  Regan twisted the stethoscope in her hands.

  Jesus. Something was wrong. Since when did my step-mother…fidget?

  “I haven’t been a good mother to you,” she said.

  O-kay. I expected a journey down the birth canal, not a guilt trip.

  This was not a conversation to have when I wasn’t wearing pants—even worse when my butt scooted to the edge of an exam table and my legs stirrup’ed wide enough to give Genie a little fresh air.

  “Um…Mom…” I cleared my throat. “Is this the best time?”

  “I haven’t been fair to you, Aurora,” she said. “I haven’t been helpful. I haven’t tried to connect with you since learning about the baby.”

  So we were having this heart-to-cervix chat right now. But I had to pee. I also hadn’t finished my cinnamon roll before being late to the appointment. And I’d just left the man I loved because I couldn’t stand to watch him bash his brain on the football field. I was not in the mood to Cat’s-Cradle this relationship.

  “Well…” I might have been slightly bitter. “You’ve only had five months to process this. I can see how you’d need more time.”

  Regan stiffened. It wasn’t kind to pick a fight with my step-mother, but with the gloves tossed down and the legs spread wide, I thought we could handle a couple harsh truths.

  “I was worried about you,” Regan said. “And angry.”

  “Just say it. Disappointed. I’ve always disappointed you.”

  “I didn’t want to see you fail.”

  “Good news. I’m not planning on it.”

  “I know. I know the woman you are. You will exceed my expectations.”

  “No, I won’t.” I laughed. “I’ll never live up to your expectations. But you know what? I refuse to try anymore. I’m going to be a good mother to my daughter. I’m going to provide for her. Love her. Care for her.” I touched my tummy. Genie thudded against me, and I imagined she fist-bumped me back. “I know you had a vision of a perfect future for me—but I know what I want in life. I want to be a doctor. I want to be a mother. And I’ll prove to you I can be great at both.”

  “I don’t doubt you.”

  “Nothing will stop me from practicing neurology. It’s been my dream since I was a little girl.”

  “No, Aurora.” Regan averted her gaze. Was she…ashamed? “That’s been my dream for you. I pushed you into medicine.”

  “But I wanted it too.”

  “I had expectations for you,” she said. “Rigorous ones. From your education to your extracurriculars to the schools you attended and the projects you studied. I controlled your life, Aurora. I wanted the best for you.”

  Regan’s voice actually wavered.

  Damn it.

  “You know I’m grateful for that.” I picked at a fraying corner of the sheet. “You got me to where I am today.”

  “That’s not how you really feel.”

  It so wasn’t the time for this—not with the stress and the worry and the baby and Jude. Not to mention the exam room and my exposed baby-cannon poised to fire.

  “I’m glad you gave me the opportunities I had…” I bit my lip. “But I know the truth.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You favored your sons over me. I know you regretted taking me in. You were upset that my father had a daughter when you married him. It ruined your image of a perfect family. We had to compete for his attention, and you knew I’d win, no matter what you did.”

  “He did love you. Very much.”

  “And then he died,” I said. “And you decided to raise me how you wanted, not how he’d wished. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t you. I couldn’t get the grades and perform the recitals and do the projects and manage the volunteer work and look beautiful and have all the boyfriends. I tried, but I failed. And I know it disappointed you.”

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  “No. You’ve always resented that I was the fairest in the land.”

  “What?”

  I shook my head. “I never wanted to compete with you, Regan. And I never hated you. Hell, if I could’ve strapped on Eric’s helmet and played ball to win your approval, I would have. But all I had was academics, and I did what I could.” I looked away. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t enough, but I’m not going to endure the stress of trying to please you. Especially since you can’t spare a minute to call and ask about your grandbaby-to-be. It won’t happen.”

  Regan reached for my hand. I froze.

  “You’re right, Aurora. But you’re also so wrong.”

  “Where have I heard that before?”

  “We aren’t flesh and blood, but I see so much of myself in you.” She heaved a regretted sigh. “I wanted to foster it, make it grow, I wanted you to become the best person you could be.”

  “You wanted me to be you.”

  “I wanted you to be better than me. And you are—in so many ways. I’m proud of you. I’m proud that, even after what’s happened, you are able to take control of this situation and care for y
our family.”

  I swallowed, my heart straining against my chest. “You’ve never said that before.”

  “I know. And that changes now. I’m going to help you with this baby. I want to be a part of your child’s life, if you let me.” She lowered her eyes. “God knows I don’t have a strong relationship with my mother, but if I had put in the effort with her…maybe things would have been different.”

  “I don’t know if you realize it, but Grandma Mildred is awesome.”

  “I know…she’s the one who told me to come to my senses and talk to you.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Mildred.”

  “She actually said to get my head out of my ass before you ditched me in a second-rate home once I retired.”

  “That sounds like Mildred.”

  “She was right.”

  I groaned. “I’ll put you in a good home. Jesus.”

  “Not about that.” Regan squeezed my hand. “I haven’t seen you for the amazing woman you’ve become. I’m sorry. And I want to change that and be a part of your life.”

  And…maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Regan’s influence made me strong and independent, but not so stubborn that I’d refuse help.

  Especially since I needed so much of it.

  “I appreciate that, Mom,” I said. “I’d like for you to know your grandbaby.”

  She squeezed my hand again. Not a hug, but I didn’t expect a total thaw. I let myself relax.

  “Where’s Jude?” she asked.

  And then I tensed so hard I nearly squirted out the baby.

  How was I supposed to explain this?

  I couldn’t come clean about Genie, and I sure as hell couldn’t tell Regan how I’d slept with my attending and gotten pregnant.

  “I don’t think Jude…he won’t be around much,” I said.

  “What happened?”

  “His head. The concussions and all the side-effects are starting to take their toll. But he’s refusing to sit out of the game. He wants to play in the championship on Sunday, and now he’s talking about next season.” The words bumbled out of me, but Regan listened. “He can hardly take care of himself. I can’t expect him to help with the baby. He has to prioritize his health, and I need to put the baby first.”

  Regan nodded. “I understand.”