by Beth Ehemann
“Yeah, your text was pretty vague.” Brody punched my shoulder playfully.
“He’s actually a good size for being a little early,” Michelle stared at our son adoringly. “Five pounds, three ounces.”
Kacie’s eyes widened. “Wow! If you’d carried him to full term, this chunker would have been almost ten pounds.”
“He felt like ten pounds,” Michelle said with a quick laugh.
“So when’s the next one coming?” Brody asked playfully.
Michelle and I looked straight at each other, a hint of sadness between us. “There won’t be any more babies,” Michelle said. “Because of the bleed I had during the actual pregnancy and then going into labor early, Dr. Avery thinks I shouldn’t get pregnant again. So . . . I had my tubes tied.”
Kacie’s face lifted and her sad eyes moved from Michelle to me and back again. “Wait. Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Michelle’s gaze dropped to her hands where she played with her fingers nervously.
“Holy shit,” Brody mumbled under his breath. “That’s too bad. I’m so sorry, guys.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Michelle lifted her face to Brody. “Michael’s here and healthy and we’re very lucky.”
The room was silent for a minute.
“Yeah,” I added. “And he’s also lucky because since he’ll be the last kid till grandbabies, we’re obviously going to spoil the shit out of him.” I shrugged.
“Wait a minute.” Brody straightened up and raised his hands. “Did my best friend, Lawrence Finkle, really just say something about grandbabies?”
“Yeah, I did, asshole. You got a problem with it?” I teased.
“Shhh!” Kacie hissed. “No swearing in front of the baby. I really don’t think you want his first word to be asshole, do you?”
“Hell no. His first word is gonna be daddy. I can feel it.” I beamed.
Kacie glanced at Michelle and rolled her eyes playfully. “You really need to keep him away from your pain meds.”
Brody and Kacie left a little while later and it was just me, Michelle, and Michael in the quiet room. Michelle had insisted that I climb into bed and sit with her again, but within seconds of me scooting up next to her, she was asleep on my shoulder.
Some people walk through the doors of parenthood with excitement and open arms. Others, like me, are dragged through it kicking and screaming in resistance. As I sat in that room with Michelle sound asleep against my shoulder, Michael sound asleep in my arms, and Matthew and Maura on my mind, I thought about the scars I had on my hands from white-knuckling the door trim as hard as I could.
Brody was right. Fate didn’t ask permission and she didn’t give you warnings, but she had a way of balancing your life when you didn’t even know it needed to be balanced, and calming even the wildest of hearts.
Two Months Later . . .
“Every single thing hurts,” Kacie whined. “My hair hurts. My eyelashes hurt. My whole body hurts.”
“I don’t even think I can walk to the car,” I added.
We sat in the big, dark red booth at Brody and Viper’s new bar, The Penalty Box. It was three o’clock in the morning after the big grand opening party, and we had all clearly underestimated how old we really were.
“Who’s dumb idea was this bar thing anyway?” Viper asked. He was lying flat on his back on the wood floor, staring up at the ceiling.
“If I had the energy, I’d get up and kick you right in the junk,” Brody said dryly. He had lined up four bar stools and was lying across them on his stomach.
“We were pretty packed tonight though, huh?” Viper said, a little more upbeat.
“Yeah.” Kacie groaned as she sat up. “The line was out the door and around the block. I have a feeling this place will be like that for a while.”
“I hope so. I really don’t want to have to kill Viper to pay this loan off.” Brody pushed himself off the stools and looked around the room. “Holy shit. This place is trashed.”
I sat up, scooted to the end of the booth, and surveyed the damage. Confetti and streamers covered the floor. Dozens of glasses, half-full of beer, littered every table. There was even a random high heel abandoned in the corner. “It is trashed, but it’s still so damn beautiful.”
Like someone shocked his system back to life, Viper jumped up from the floor and looked around his new adventure with excited eyes. “It really is badass.”
The Penalty Box was a sports memorabilia collector’s mothership. Framed jerseys, hockey sticks, and bats covered the walls. Shelves with baseballs, golfballs, and basketballs sprinkled every corner and then some. Of course there was a heavy emphasis on the Minnesota Wild, but that was to be expected. After all, it was Brody and Viper’s bar.
Without a doubt, the most amazing part of the entire space was the oversized booth in the far back corner. It was a place just for Brody, Viper, and their friends and family. Above the booth hung a place setting that read “Head of Our Table—Mike Asher #88” with one of Mike’s old jerseys framed over it. I had no idea they’d planned that until I got there earlier that evening. I hadn’t seen a lot of it, actually. Viper was so excited, and so proud, that he refused to let me into the bar until it was completely finished. Brody had done the same thing with Kacie.
When we got there tonight, an hour before the grand opening, we were both speechless as we walked around and looked at everything closely. Brody and Viper specifically skipped hiring a designer because they wanted to do all of the decorating themselves, and surprisingly they did an amazing job, picking out every single detail personally.
“Should we do anything before we leave?” Kacie asked through a yawn.
Brody shook his head. “No. I have a crew coming in to clean up at eight o’clock because I figured it would be extra messy after the grand opening.”
“Good.” Viper clapped loudly. “Then I’m going to make sure everything is locked up in back and we’re getting the hell out of here. I’m exhausted.”
“I still can’t believe you guys actually pulled it off,” I said, still in awe, as Viper drove us home.
“I can’t either,” he replied. “Brody was so against it at the beginning, but the more we got into it, the more excited we got.”
“I’m proud of you.”
He reached over and grabbed my hand, pulling it to his lips. “I’m kinda proud of me, too.” He kissed the top of my hand and put it down but didn’t let go. “I have a surprise for you.”
My head turned toward him. “What surprise?”
“Don’t be mad, you promise?”
“Oh boy.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fine. I won’t be mad.”
“You know how Taylor was here with the kids? Well, I asked her to take them to her house and keep them overnight.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “I was sure we were gonna be really late, and you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now, so I figured we could sleep in and then go pick them up at her house.” He peeked at me from the corner of his eye. “You’re not pissed, are you?”
“Not at all. I mean, of course I miss them, but the thought of more than two hours of sleep at a time makes me a little giddy.” I rested my head against the seat and started counting down the minutes until I could climb into bed and drift off. “Taylor wasn’t mad, was she?”
“No.” He laughed as he shook his head. “She offered to keep them all day tomorrow, too, but I told her she’d have to talk to you about that one.”
We pulled into the garage and he turned the car off. “Ready?” he asked.
Without lifting my head off the seat, I turned to face him. “I’m too tired. Just leave me here and come back in the morning.”
He laughed. “Come on. It’s only a few more steps, then you’ll be to our bed.”
“Fine.” I groaned and pouted my way into the house and through the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” he called out just as I got to the bottom of the stairs.
&n
bsp; “What?” I called back incredulously. He didn’t answer, so I went to see if I’d heard him correctly. “Did you ask if I was hungry?”
He stood at the island and nodded. “I think I’m gonna make something to eat. You want something?”
“Yes, I want sleep,” I said sarcastically.
“Fine. You can go up to sleep. On your way out of the kitchen, can you grab the big pot from the cabinet and set it on the island?”
I rolled my eyes. “I seriously can’t believe you’re going to cook at four o’clock in the morning. If you were hungry, you should have said something. That’s what Taco Bell is for.” I bent over and grabbed the big silver pot and set it on the island . . . then I froze.
The pot was one I’d never seen before, and something was engraved on the lid. I squinted my eyes and leaned in closer to read it.
Every pot has a lid. You’re my lid. Will you marry me?
My eyes shot open as I straightened up and looked over at a grinning Viper.
“What . . . how . . . when . . .”
“You do that stuttering thing a lot, you know that?” He walked over, lifted the lid of the pot, and pulled out a black velvet ring box. Opening it, he got down on one knee. He licked his lips, took a deep breath, and smiled up at me. “Well. Will you?”
Ten minutes ago I’d been exhausted and practically crawling up the stairs, but suddenly I was wide-awake and fighting back tears.
“Oh my God, Viper. Yes!” I put my hand over my mouth as he stood and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You already said the most important thing, so you don’t have to say anything else.” We stood in the kitchen, hugging and swaying back and forth for at least two minutes as tears dripped from my eyes onto his shirt.
“Here,” he said as he eventually pulled back. “I want to see how this looks on you.” He took the ring from the box and placed it on my shaky left hand.
I stared down at the ring. It was a simple diamond set in a platinum, antique-looking band. “Viper, this is beautiful.”
“I’m glad you think so. It’s Gam’s.”
“What?” My eyes shot up to his.
“I told Gam a while ago that I was going to propose, and she insisted that I use the ring that my grandfather gave her. Well, the stone anyway. I had it reset.”
“I already loved it, but that makes it one hundred times better.”
“The only thing she asked is that we leave it to Maura one day. She wants her only great-granddaughter to have it after us.” He pressed his lips together and lifted the corner of his mouth in a sweet, humble smile.
“Your grandmother is an amazing woman.”
He nodded. “She is. And she helped raise me, so of course I turned out pretty amazing, too.”
“I’ll agree with that.” I hooked my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his. His hands slid down my sides and cupped my bottom as he opened his mouth for a deeper kiss. “Wanna go upstairs and show me just how amazing you are?”
“Fuck yes!” He grabbed my hand and led me around the house behind him as he locked the doors and shut all the lights off.
“By the way, what would you have done if I’d gone right upstairs and didn’t get the pot for you?” I asked matter-of-factly.
He glanced back and raised a sexy eyebrow at me. “How do you know that ring hasn’t been sitting in there for months already? It’s not like you take the pots out to cook very often, so for all you know it’s been sitting in there for a long time.”
“You’re such an asshole.” I rolled my eyes.
He shot me a wink and tossed me playfully onto the bed. “I am, but I’m your asshole. Forever and ever.”
Single dad Andy Shaw loves his job as a sports agent, with one exception: it doesn’t leave him much time for his kids. No parent likes being sidelined, so Andy decides to hire someone to share the workload. But when one of the hottest agents in the industry applies, Andy knows that this deal is definitely trouble.
Danicka Douglas works her butt off, but being an attractive woman in a testosterone-heavy industry isn’t exactly a cakewalk. She guards her professional reputation fiercely, which means no crushing on her gorgeous boss. But the more they ignore that sexy little spark, the more it sizzles . . .
Just when it looks like romance might be in the game plan, Dani is threatened by a stalker with dark intentions. To keep her safe, Andy must cross the line between professional and very personal . . . because this time, he’s playing for keeps.
Releasing September 6, 2016
Available for pre-order now http://amzn.to/2aWTcAW
Beth Ehemann lives in the northern suburbs of Chicago with her husband and four children. When she’s not sitting in front of her computer writing, or on Pinterest, she loves reading, photography, martinis and all things Chicago Cubs and Blackhawks.
Connect with her at-
www.bethehemann.com
[email protected]
www.facebook.com/bethehemann
@bethehemann (Twitter and Instagram)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Coming Next from Beth Ehemann
About the Author
