by Eva Luxe
I thought about it. When I had said I would stay, I hadn’t thought any further than that I would be with Nick.
“We can convert one of the spare rooms into a nursery, and you can make this your home.”
It suddenly sounded like a great idea. I did need a place to live if I was going to stay. I didn’t want to impose on Brad and Carly again, and I was sure even if I found a place of my own, Nick and I would be together all the time anyway.
So, like he’d said, we might as well.
“All right,” I said.
Nick grinned, pleased with himself as if he had expected I might say no.
“It’s going to be amazing. We’ll make it work, and we’ll create a home together.”
I nodded and kissed him. He was right. We would make it work. We may not have planned the child, but we could build a life together. And until the baby came, I would have Nick all to myself.
Epilogue
Nick
Eight months later
During the off-season, I spent as much time at the gym as I could. I needed to stay in shape if I was going to go all-out for the team. As soon as the new season started, I would start as a full-fledged member of the Florida Sharks, playing as their wide receiver. All the hard work I had put in had paid off.
It had been after the Superbowl in February that Liam had taken me to see Coach Rudi. Coach Daniel had asked him to escort me. At first, I had been nervous that it meant something else. To finally get what I had been dreaming of my whole life had almost seemed too good to be true.
But it had been true. All of it. A spot on the team had opened up, and I would start playing for them as soon as the preseason kicked off.
“Two more,” Liam said. He was spotting me with my bench presses. I was pushing for failure and judging by how my arms trembled, I would be there soon.
“That’s it. Keep going,” Liam said.
Training with the boys was amazing. They had always treated me as if I was worth their time, but since I’d been taken into the team, they had accepted me as one of their own. I often trained with them, whether it was only one or two of them or we all hit the gym together.
When I couldn’t push up anymore, Liam lifted the weights onto the rack for me, and I sat up, breathing hard. My shirt was drenched with sweat, and I found my water bottle on the floor.
“You’re improving,” Liam said, sitting down on the rowing machine, ready to start his sets.
“I can feel it,” I said. “I appreciate your help.”
“Anytime,” Liam said. “We train together for motivation and to build team spirit. A team who trains together stays together, right?”
I laughed at how he had twisted the stupid internet meme that was doing the rounds.
I sat on the bench for a while, watching Liam train. My arms felt like jelly, and I was exhausted. But I had to end off my workout with a sprint and a stretch to cool down before I could hit the showers.
Being this fit and working this hard felt amazing. I had never been in such good physical condition, and I liked it when I felt my muscles the next day, when there was proof I had pushed my body to its limits.
My phone rang in my bag. I walked to it and lifted a numb arm to press the phone to my ear. When I heard the words, my body went cold.
“It’s time.”
I hung up.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Liam said. “What’s up?”
“That was Hailey,” I said. “The baby’s coming.”
Liam laughed. “Then, what are you standing here for, man? Go!”
I spun around, grabbed my things and ran. I didn’t shower. I didn’t wipe the sweat off my brow. I ran to my car, jumped in and floored it all the way home. When I walked in through the front door, Hailey was on the couch in the living room, her legs pulled up, hands on her stomach. The hospital bag she had packed three weeks ago stood on the floor next to her.
“I’m here, baby,” I said and kneeled next to her.
“Thank God,” she said before she cried out as a contraction racked her body. I had never seen a woman in the throes of labor, but it looked like a hell of a lot of pain.
“Let’s get you to the hospital,” I said and put my arm under hers, helping her up. She struggled to walk, her body curling every time a contraction hit. They weren’t very far apart. Didn’t that mean we were running out of time?
“Not too far, baby,” I said when she sank to the ground close to the car. I picked her up and carried her the short distance remaining. When she was in the car, strapped in and ready to go, I ran around to the driver’s side and climbed in. I floored it to the road again, weaving through traffic, making it to the hospital as fast as I could. Hailey moaned and cried out next to me whenever a contraction rocked her body, which happened more frequently and severely as we went along.
I pulled into the emergency bay and jumped out, shouting for nurses while I ran around the car and helped Hailey out. They were ready with a wheelchair, running toward us. As soon as Hailey was in the wheelchair, everything happened in quick succession. The nurses took her inside while I scrambled to find a parking space, even though I’d been tempted to leave the car idling with the key in the ignition right in front of the door.
Luckily, I found a space not too far. When I joined Hailey in the delivery room, they had already helped her into a hospital gown.
“Not yet,” a nurse was saying to her. “For now, breathe through the contraction. We’ll wait until you’re fully dilated before we get this baby out.”
“Can’t I have something for the pain in the meantime?” Hailey asked, and her voice was breathy. Her stomach was a swollen mound underneath the covers, and she lay half on her side, knees curled up.
“Right away,” the nurse said and gave Hailey something. When Hailey reached her hand out to me, I took it and pressed it to my lips.
“I’m right here, angel,” I said, stroking her hand.
“It hurts,” she complained. I looked at the nurse who checked her vitals. She didn’t seem worried.
“It will be over soon,” I said.
“And honey, the pain is worth the reward,” the nurse said. “Trust me.”
Hailey wanted to answer, but her breath was taken away by another contraction. I had never felt so helpless. I was a protector, a fighter. But I couldn’t punch the pain away this time or be a big man and put Hailey behind me to protect her. This was natural, but I felt out of my depth, and even though I was right next to Hailey, I couldn’t help but feel she was alone in this.
Hailey lay in bed, contracting and crying out every now and then, for five hours. I had heard stories of women being in labor for hours at a time, but I had never known what it meant. Seeing her in pain, seeing the fear that sometimes took a hold of her, was horrible.
The nurse checked on her every now and then. When she checked how dilated Hailey was for the umpteenth time, she pressed the emergency button next to Hailey’s bed.
“I can see the head,” she said to the doctor who came into the room, ready for action. Two more nurses followed and where we had played the waiting game before, everything moved fast now. The nurse pressed her hands down on Hailey’s stomach to feel where the baby was. She nodded at the doctor. The other two nurses put Hailey’s legs up in stirrups. I wanted to punch someone for looking between her legs so often, but we had to get through this or neither of us would make it. I was sweating, nervous about what came next.
Put me on a field where huge men threw themselves at me with the intent to put me down, and I could handle it. But this was too much for me.
“Nick,” Hailey cried out, and I turned my attention back to her. She grabbed my hand and squeezed with a strength I hadn’t felt from her before.
“When it’s the next contraction, push,” the doctor ordered.
Hailey nodded, almost immediately crying out, and she curled forward as she pushed.
“That’s it,” the doctor said. “Breathe for the next one.”
> The two nurses hurried around Hailey’s legs while one of them monitored her heart rate, making sure she was okay. I felt lightheaded, and I wondered if we could get another nurse in to check on me.
“Ready for another push, Mama,” the doctor said. Hailey did as she was told and pushed.
“Almost there,” the doctor said, the rest of her sentence cut off by a scream that tore out of Hailey’s throat. Her hair was wet and sticking to her forehead, and she was breathing hard. She screamed again, and suddenly, another cry filled the room, the smallest cry I had ever heard. Time stood still, and I watched as they lifted a blue, waxy baby with kicking legs.
“Healthy baby girl, born at five fifteen, six pounds nine ounces.”
They were weighing and measuring her before the nurse brought us the little bundle, swaddled in pink blankets.
Hailey reached for her baby and took her in her arms. I was awestruck. Everything about her was tiny, her fists the size of brazil nuts, the tiniest nail on her fingers.
“Hello, Brittany,” Hailey whispered. She looked at me with eyes filled with wonder. “Isn’t she perfect?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I was choking up. I couldn’t believe Hailey and I had made this.
We hadn’t wanted to know the baby’s gender. We had wanted it to be a surprise. I didn’t care that my firstborn wasn’t a boy. My daughter was beautiful in every way.
“Hey, little girl,” I said, reaching tentatively for her. “Oh my god, Hailey. She’s beautiful.”
I kissed Hailey before turning my attention back to my daughter. “You’re going to be a stunning woman one day,” I said. “I know because your mom is.”
The nurses cleaned Hailey up and took Brittany for her first bath.
“Come with us, Daddy,” the nurse said. “You can help.”
I nodded, following the nurse out of the room. While I watched the nurse take care of Brittany, I made calls. I called the whole world and told them the wonderful news, that our daughter had been born.
By the time I returned to the room, we already had two visitors. Liam and Kina were in the room talking to Hailey. When they saw Brittany, they cooed and complimented our child, and I had never known what pride was until I introduced my daughter to the world.
One after the other, our friends arrived until the little room was so crowded with football players and their wives that the nurses started chasing them out, claiming Hailey needed to rest.
When we were finally alone again, much later, Brittany was asleep in the bassinette next to the bed, and I sat next to Hailey on the bed.
“You did great, angel,” I said to Hailey. “And she’s beautiful. Perfect in every way.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said.
I shrugged, agreeing.
“You know, I’m glad you came all the way to Florida to stalk me,” I teased.
Hailey rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
“I’m sorry you missed your graduation,” I said.
Hailey had been too far along in her pregnancy to travel to her graduation.
“Don’t be,” she said. “I got my MBA, and that’s all that matters to me. I had better things to do with my time.” We both looked at Brittany again.
When I had set out to Miami to play ball, I had never imagined my life could be this rich. It was better than I could ever have imagined.
Hailey was exhausted, and I waited until she was asleep, checking on her, making sure she was comfortable. When she drifted off, Brittany stirred, and I picked her up. I wasn’t as comfortable with the baby as Hailey, but I would learn.
“Hey, little lady,” I said, cradling her to my chest. “Daddy’s got you.”
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Bonus books follow for your continued reading enjoyment. If you enjoyed Don’t Worry, Baby, you’ll love the other books in the standalone but connected South Beach Bad Boys series: Don’t Say A Word, Don’t Forget About Me, Don’t Stand So Close, Don’t Stop Believing and Don’t Come Around Here and Don’t Walk Away. Each of them follow a different player on the Florida Sharks football team! Plus, there’s a never before published, exclusively new bonus book from Sizzling Hot Reads, called Champions. Enjoy!
Don’t Say a Word: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
This book is dedicated to girls who love— and tame— bad boys.
Chapter 1 – Hanson
There were so many hot women up in here. From the sad-eyed, impatient-looking chicks who had to wait in line because they didn’t have a connection to let them in ahead of all the rest of the poor saps, to the cocktail waitresses dancing on the bar to the bachelorette party attenders shaking their asses on the dance floor in celebration of their BFF’s final night of freedom, I couldn’t even keep up with the number of amazingly stunning women all around me. This was my perfect idea of a Friday night.
The White Room was the kind of night club the who’s who of Miami went to. Situated in Mid-Beach, the glamorous club was part of the Fontainebleau Hotel and a hot spot for famous folk and VIP regulars. I went there all the time. If I was going to get wasted, I was going to do it in style.
Did it cost a lot of money? Hell yeah. But as the Safety for the Florida Sharks Football team— at least, when my ass wasn’t suspended— I had enough cash to get fucked-off-my-face drunk without blinking at my bill at the end of the night.
The venue, the service, and the music was the shit, and that’s why hot women from all over came to the club. If there was anything that made me a happy man, it was a woman in a dress that left very little to the imagination.
Tonight, the club was packed. It consisted of a huge dance floor with banquet booths on the bottom floor, stairs that descended from the doors so you could scope out whoever came in, and sky boxes on the second floor that looked out over the dance floor. Sky boxes were reserved for VIPs like us, so that’s where we were hanging out tonight, just like all the other nights we came here.
I leaned on the chrome railing and looked out over the crowd with a glass of expensive whiskey in my hand. The music throbbed like a racing pulse, and bodies writhed to the beat. The air smelled of sweat and lust, an intoxicating combination.
“Man, it’s good to kick back,” Brian said, splayed out on one of the white leather couches. “I swear that last game fucked me up. I’m aching all over.”
“Is your face hurting?” I couldn’t help the smirk lifting my lip. I loved dicking around with Brian. He was too easy sometimes.
“Fuck you too.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “My face is not hurting, and it’s not killing you. All these women around here are looking at me, idiot. You know this.”
I shrugged and sipped my whiskey. He was an idiot, but I would keep him around. I turned a little as my back ached. He was bent over thanks to the last game; I was just sore from a shitty night of sleep.
Getting hurt in the game was an occupational hazard. Brian McMurry was the Running Back for the Sharks. He was good at what he did and a fan favorite. He was also my best friend. We had played for the Hurricanes together before we’d been selected for the team, and if there was anyone I would turn to in a crisis, it was Brian.
“How long until you’re back in action?” Brian asked. “You must be losing your shit not playing for so long.”
I nodded. “Losing my shit” was an accurate description. Not playing drove me crazy, but I had to deal with it. Life was all about the choices you made.
“Two more games,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “Then I’m back.”
I turned toward Brian and sat down, too. Brian sipped a glass of soda water like a teetotaler. He had
training in the morning. The Sharks started at six, and we had to “Focus-Listen-Learn,” as the signage above the door to the training facility reminded us. It was hard to do that when you had so much alcohol in your system the world spun when you stood still.
I would know. While I was off, though, I could drink as much as I wanted to, but that wasn’t much of a benefit, considering the serious trouble I was in with the team.
Being suspended wasn’t a joke. I would rather play and be sober most of the time than wasted and watching my team on television.
“Thanks for saving my ass,” Brian said. “You know, for taking the fall.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Don’t sweat it. Really.”
Brian nodded, but I could see the tightness in his shoulders. He didn’t want anyone doing anything for him. We were the same in that way.
“You’re talking to Coach on Wednesday?” he asked.
I nodded. Wednesday was the day Coach had asked me to come in to talk about my public image. My suspension for driving under the influence had been tacked on to the bottom of a whole list of infractions, mostly to do with women. I had to clean my act up a little if I wanted to show my face in public again.
I wasn’t looking forward to it. I understood my suspension. I made my choice on that, and I would live with the consequences. But I didn’t want to give up the women. Being with whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, didn’t affect my game. In fact, I had a theory that the more sexually satisfied I was, the better I played. It was an opinion that Coach didn’t share.
Coach Rudi Thompson was the kind of man that put everything into his players. The game was as important to us as it was to him. He lived vicariously through us, being unable to play anymore himself.
“When you talk to Coach, remember where he’s coming from,” Brian said.
His mind had evidently been on the same train of thought as mine.
