“Oooh,” she groaned, reaching to kiss me. “I love the way you think.”
“You ready to call it a night, old man?” I asked my father, after walking the last of the non-family guests to the door. Madison had gone with Garrett, and Sloane had passed out asleep in my old room, so I was taking advantage of the time with my father.
He answered with just an affirmative grunt, letting me know just how tired he was. It wasn’t often that my father didn’t have much to say, but I took it as a sign to help him to the room he and Mel had moved to downstairs, while he was recovering from the surgery.
Mel was already there, carefully cleaning makeup off Emma’s face in the bathroom mirror. While I was getting my father settled, she switched gears to give baby girl a bath. Since she was occupied, I opted to sit with my father.
“Pretty nice turnout, huh?” he asked, sleepily. I was seated in a chair beside the bed, and grinned.
“Yeah, it was. You enjoyed yourself?”
“Yessir. That Sloane – she sure can make a sweet potato pie.”
“She left a whole one just for you,” I chuckled. “When I told her it was your favorite. And she didn’t poison it or anything.”
Eli laughed, cringing over the obvious stress it put on his body. “Thank you for that. I am truly grateful for the power of forgiveness.”
“Well, she wasn’t interested in holding a grudge, you know?”
He nodded. “She’s a good woman.”
“Oh, now you know that?”
“Knew it before you knew it,” he countered, eyes half open. “I just… lost my head a little bit. You know that. You called it. I’m getting to be an old man, son.”
“Getting to be?”
He smirked. “Don’t come after me too hard – if I’m getting old, means you’re getting old too. Before you know it, you’re going to start finding grays everywhere.”
“Ladies love a little salt-and-pepper seasoning,” I replied. “I welcome it with open arms.”
“So you say now.”
He barely got that out before his eyes were completely closed, and I pulled his covers up, turning off the lamp at his bedside. I peeked into where Mel had Emma in her jammies, and was brushing her hair before she covered it with a kid-sized satin bonnet.
“He’s out cold,” I told her, scooping Emma up, to take her off her mother’s hands. “I’ll drop baby girl in her room. I know you’re probably exhausted.”
She smiled, but her eyes spoke to her level of fatigue, and she gave me a grateful arm squeeze. “Not even going to front – I definitely am. So thank you. She’s barely keeping her eyes open, so she shouldn’t be much trouble.”
More like no trouble – Emma had already rested her head on my shoulder, and was quietly keeping herself occupied by running her hands over my facial hair, with closed eyes.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “I’m thinking she won’t be either.”
“You look good with a baby in your arms,” Mel teased. “You and Sloane…?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I get to be a big brother and an uncle and…”
“Maybe someday a stepfather?” she finished for me, since for some reason I had trouble verbalizing what I’d already teased Sloane with.
I smiled, and nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
With Emma in my arms, I headed up the stairs, dropping her off in her gray and yellow, elephant themed room. As expected, she was so tired from all the activity of the day, plus the nap she’d refused earlier, that she barely stirred when I tucked her into her little bed.
I found Sloane still asleep in my room, and didn’t bother to wake her. Instead, I took my own shower and then settled into the bed beside her, smiling when she immediately adjusted, tucking herself into my side.
A blinking light from my phone at the bedside got my attention, so I picked it up, surprised to see a text from Leya.
“I am soooo sorry about those pictures, Nate. I was just trying to make Shawn jealous – no idea that some weirdo would be taking pictures. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble at all! I’ll talk to her if you need me too. I am SO sorry. – Leya.”
I shook my head, then typed out a response.
“Nah, it’s fine. Sloane wasn’t tripping about it, but I appreciate you trying to smooth it over. Did you tell him?”
“Well, after I saw what happened with the pictures… yeah. Figured I should at least make it worth it. – Leya.”
“And?”
“And… we’re meeting for drinks tonight, to talk about it. At his place. Alone. So basically, I’m getting that dick tuh-night!!!! – Leya.”
I covered my mouth to keep from waking Sloane as I laughed. “Congratulations I think? And Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving Nate! – Leya.”
I put the phone down beside the bed and turned to watch the rise and fall of Sloane’s chest as she slept. She had an arm around my waist, and the warmth of her body, the faint scent of sweet potato pie – probably in her hair – had me more than a little turned on… and ready to make some of the fantasies I’d had about her in the room reality.
Gently, I ran a hand up her bare arm, trying to rouse her from her sleep. She groaned a little as my touch grew more firm, moving down to grip a handful of her ass.
Sleepily, she peeled her eyes open, looking up at me with a grin.
“What, Nate?” she asked, barely awake. “You want me to give you the hand job of your teenage fantasies, don’t you? Maybe a little mouth action? Make the dream complete?”
I groaned just thinking about it. “I mean… Thanksgiving is all about gratefulness, right? I’m definitely down for some giving and receiving.”
“In your parents’ house? Really?”
I smirked. “Sloane… baby… trust me. This wouldn’t remotely be the first time you made me cum in this house.”
“Ewww,” she said, wrinkling her nose at me. “You’re so nasty.”
“Tell me you don’t like it.”
“That would be a lie,” she purred, closing her eyes as she snuggled even closer to me. “Just give me like… ten more minutes of sleep?”
“Of course,” I told her, closing my eyes too, even if it was just for a few minutes.
I’d never had a problem with her making me wait.
The end.
“You sit out here too much longer, they might call the people on you.”
I smiled, but didn’t take my eyes off the field. “The people?”
“The folks. The looney bin or whatever.”
“Why? I’m not doing anything.”
“That’s my whole fuckin’ point.”
Finally, I turned to where Rutledge Amare was standing, in the aisle, several seats down from where I’d posted up in the bleachers. It was after our last game – a home game, which we’d won.
The win hadn’t been enough though.
Not that I didn’t already know that – our fate was already secured, before this last game even kicked off. The Kings were in transition, and that had been a common refrain all year. No one, not even the media honestly, was harping too much on the fact that we hadn’t made it past the championships. We’d been all the way to the top, two years in a row, which was special. A season off didn’t take away any of credibility.
For me though… it stung.
“We didn’t get our rings,” I said, returning my eyes to the empty field. “We were supposed to shut this shit down. Prove all the haters wrong.”
“And you think we didn’t?”
I held up my hands, gesturing at the field. “We’re here, instead of celebrating. So you tell me.”
“I can’t tell you shit, but to speak for yourself. I shut all my haters up,” Amare laughed. Again, I smiled, but my eyes stayed on the field as I felt the shift in energy of him moving to sit beside me. “Including the one that’s about to have this drink with me.”
My eyebrows went up, and I turned to see him holding out two empty glasses that he must’ve had in his hands already
. I accepted one as he pulled a bottle of Mauve from the pocket of his coat.
“I have heart disease, Amare. Not supposed to be drinking hard liquor.”
He smacked his lips. “You can have a lil’ taste with me at least, right? Celebrate how far we’ve come?”
I smirked, then nodded. “You know… actually, I will drink to that. It’s the least I can do, after you’ve sent me flowers and shit, right?”
“According to y’alls feminist shit, I wasn’t supposed to expect anything in return, but…” he shrugged, laughing, and I held out my glass for him to pour just enough for a sip.
“I saw your interview, you know?” I asked him. “With Wil Cunningham-Bishop. It was a great showing of how much you’ve matured.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, and I saw your interview with her too – great showing of you fucking the owner’s son. You wild, Coach Brooks. I ain’t think you had something like that in you.”
I chuckled as he poured his own glass, then held mine up. “In that case… here’s to subverting expectations.”
“Fa sho’.”
I took a sip – well, the sip – from the glass, letting the smooth liquor warm me against the frigid cold outside. I knew it probably looked a little crazy, me making my way back to the empty stadium for this moment of clarity and reflection, but… I was okay with that.
I was looking for the last little bit of peace I needed to move forward, and I’d found it.
“You’ll be here next season?”
I wasn’t surprised by the question, not after the little battle I’d had with Eli once he’d found out about Nate and me. The details of the conversation weren’t something I’d been privy to, but when Nate said he’d handled it, I looked for clues that backed that up – my acceptance into the Richardson family fold had been a major one.
“Yep,” I nodded, stifling a smile over the hopefulness I knew Amare didn’t realize was in his tone. “Already signed my paperwork, actually. Are your people working out something better for you? Better money?”
Amare shook his head. “Can’t talk about that with you. You sleepin’ with the… well, I can’t call Nate the enemy, but you feel me.”
“I do,” I laughed. “And I respect it. But however it goes… next season… we kickin’ ass, right?”
He held out his fist, and I tapped it with mine. “You already know.”
Before I could say anything else, my phone started vibrating. I pulled it from my pocket to see Nate’s name on the screen, along with a few other calls I must have missed while I was zoned out, before Amare showed up.
“Hey,” I answered, gesturing to Amare to give me a second. “Is everything okay?”
The slight pause before he answered told me everything. “Uh… it’s about Cole. We’re at the hospital.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Okay. I’m on my way.”
I said quick goodbyes to Amare, rushing out of the stadium to get to my car, and then to the hospital where the Richardson family had gathered. I hadn’t gathered details over the phone, so by the time I stepped into the waiting room, I had several nightmare scenarios in my head, all of which I was hoping were wrong.
Nate was the first to approach me, pulling me into a hug.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, when we stepped back. “Is she okay?”
Nate sighed. “Uh… early labor, they think. Maybe. Very early.”
My eyes went wide. “But… they can stop it, right? Remember this just happened, with Ramsey and Wil Bishop, and they were able to press pause. Their baby boy is just fine.”
“Well, we can hope,” Nate nodded. “Jordan is back there with her now, with the doula and midwife, talking to a doctor. I just… fuck,” he sighed, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I had hoped my next trip to a hospital would be a happy occasion, like… when she was having the baby, when she was supposed to have the baby.”
“I thought she wanted a home birth?”
“She does, but… shit happens, you know? I just—”
“Didn’t want to see anyone else you cared about in a hospital bed?” I finished for him, and he nodded, wrapping his arms around me again.
“Right.”
I settled into him, staring up to meet his eyes. “She’s going to be okay. And so will your niece or nephew.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping.” His expression shifted, like he’d suddenly remembered something. “What about you? You good? I know you said you needed a second to yourself. I hated to interrupt, but I know you would’ve been pissed if I hadn’t.”
I grinned. “You know me well. And, I’d already been interrupted, so it was totally fine.”
A sudden grip around my leg made me gasp, and I looked down to see that Emma had broken free from her parents, and was now holding onto me, offering a soggy cookie.
“Oh, thank you sweetheart,” I gushed, smiling at her. “But I’ve had enough cookies today already. I don’t want to have a tummy ache!”
She frowned at me, then looked at the cookie, then back at me. “… no cookie?”
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “But thank you so much!”
That thank you earned me exactly zero points with Emma – which I luckily didn’t need, because typically, she adored me – only deepening her frown as she let me go, reaching instead for her big brother.
Nate bent down, sweeping her up into his arms, making me swoon – and gag, at the same time – as he allowed her to put that cookie in his mouth.
Watching him with her was a secret guilty pleasure of mine. Despite his continued insistence that babies weren’t on his radar until after he established himself as a sports manager, I was confident that fatherhood would have been a good look on him. He wasn’t letting on – and neither was I – but we were both looking forward to Cole’s new addition to the family.
I wanted to see him with a baby baby.
We all looked up as Jordan came out of Cole’s room, wearing an inscrutable expression. He stopped, propping his hands on his waist as he looked around at us, seemingly… dazed.
“Jordan,” Eli called, standing up. “What is it? Is Cole okay?”
He nodded, still looking baffled. “Uh… yeah,” he said, after several hard blinks. “She’s perfectly okay. It’s not labor, she’s just… it’s, um… holy shit, man…”
“JJ,” Nate stepped in, concerned. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Jordan looked up at Nate – stared at Nate – then scoffed, shaking his head. “I should’ve been prepared for this. We should’ve expected this.”
“Expected what, Jordan?” Mel asked, moving toward him at the same time I did. “What’s going on?”
“Twins,” he answered, still wearing that dazed expression. “She… we… wanted to do the natural thing, so we only ever listened for a heartbeat. The midwife has been measuring her belly and all that was cool, so… we didn’t think anything of it. I mean, she measured a little bigger than expected, but… I wasn’t really trying to harp on that with her, but apparently… it’s cause there are two babies. They’re pressing on her spine, on her organs and shit. That’s why she’s in pain. The doctor said maybe a sudden growth spurt.”
For several moments, there was silence, and then the room erupted in activity and talk and laughter. The doctor and midwife came out, and the family filed in to see Cole, but Jordan caught me, keeping me back a second to deliver a warning before he slipped back inside himself.
“Be careful, Coach B. Apparently, twins run in their family.”
I hope you enjoyed Nate and Sloane’s story! Please consider leaving a review. You can also reach me via my website (www.beingmrsjones.com) on facebook (www.facebook.com/beingmrsjones) on twitter (www.twitter.com/beingmrsjones) or instagram (www.instagram.com/beingmrsjones) For notifications about new releases, sales, events, or other announcements, you can subscribe to my mailing list.
Christina C. Jones is a modern romance novelist who has penned many love stories. She has earned a
reputation as a storyteller who seamlessly weaves the complexities of modern life into captivating tales of black romance.
Other titles by Christina Jones
Love and Other Things
Haunted (paranormal)
Mine Tonight (erotica)
Equilibrium
Love Notes
Five Start Enterprises
Anonymous Acts
More Than a Hashtag
Relationship Goals
High Stakes
Ante Up
King of Hearts
Deuces Wild
Sweet Heat
Hints of Spice (Highlight Reel spinoff)
A Dash of Heat
A Touch of Sugar
Truth, Lies, and Consequences
The Truth – His Side, Her Side, And the Truth About Falling In Love
The Lies – The Lies We Tell About Life, Love, and Everything in Between
Friends & Lovers:
Finding Forever
Chasing Commitment
Strictly Professional:
Strictly Professional
Unfinished Business
Serendipitous Love:
A Crazy Little Thing Called Love
Didn’t Mean To Love You
Fall In Love Again
The Way Love Goes
Love You Forever
Something Like Love
Trouble:
The Trouble With Love
The Trouble With Us
The Right Kind Of Trouble
If You Can (Romantic Suspense):
Catch Me If You Can
Release Me If You Can
Save Me If You Can
Inevitable Love:
Inevitable Conclusions
Inevitable Seductions
Inevitable Addiction
The Wright Brothers:
Getting Schooled – Jason & Reese
Pulling Doubles – Joseph & Devyn
Bending The Rules – Justin & Toni
Connecticut Kings:
CK #1 Love in the Red Zone – Love Belvin
CK #2 Love on the Highlight Reel
CK #3 – Determining Possession
Pass Interference (Connecticut Kings Book 6) Page 26
