by Stella
It didn’t take long for my little man to fall asleep. I passed him off to Gage so I could try to get up without tearing the stitches from my skin. It was a more tedious process than when I was pregnant, and I prayed it wouldn’t last anywhere near as long. My eyes filled with tears, and by the time I was finally upright—or hunched over, it was hard to say which—I couldn’t stop them from rolling down my cheeks.
The second Gage caught sight of my unhappiness, his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched with concern. “You okay?”
I didn’t want him to worry. He was already freaked out about having to leave tomorrow to go to the field for the first game of the playoffs. If he thought I couldn’t handle being on my own, I didn’t want to consider what he might do in order to stay home. “Yeah, I’m just sore and tired.” It wasn’t a lie; it just wasn’t the entire truth.
“Come on, I’ll help you get in bed. I can take care of him while you lie down.” He snuggled his nose into Daniel’s neck. “We can lie next to you. I can watch you both sleep, so I’m sure you’re okay. You won’t even know…promise.” Gage’s overprotective nature hadn’t lessened since the baby was born; if anything, it’d only gotten worse. This creepy idea of watching me while I played footsie with the Sandman served to ratchet that whole vibe up a notch.
“I want to shower. I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been.” I could smell myself, which was never good.
“Oh, okay. Well, you go do that, and I’ll continue with the tour.”
“Gage, he’s asleep.” I didn’t bother telling him it was unlikely Daniel could see anything he showed him.
“You do your thing. I’ll do mine.”
I smiled and wiped the tears from my eyes. “Okay.” Then I kissed my son’s head and lifted onto my tiptoes without thought and pressed a gentle kiss to Gage’s lips.
His lids closed, as did mine, and his free arm slinked around my waist and tucked me into his side, carefully. When I released his mouth, I’d never seen the kind of contentment that currently shone brightly in Gage’s eyes. This was what he was made to do—to be. In all the time I’d known him, I hadn’t recognized just how much he needed to nurture, but that was what I’d seen in him with Granny. And now, it was with Daniel and me.
I stared into his eyes, taking in all the unspoken emotion that swam in them, and when his lips tilted into a grin, my heart nearly exploded. Everything I thought I’d never feel—much less for Gage Nix—bubbled to the surface as I realized it wasn’t his immaturity or inappropriate comments that drove me bonkers; it was my fear of falling for a man like him. But what I thought he was made up of only existed on the outside for the public to see—he showed me the truth behind the man every day whether he was in town or on the road. It was in the words he said, the attention he gave, his regard for my wellbeing even when it drove me crazy.
I refused to accept what any of that meant and chose to blame it on the still rampant hormones and horrid pain that had taken over my body. “I’m going to go shower. And then, if you don’t mind, I’d love a nap.”
He patted my butt playfully. “Whatever you need, Tasty Cake. Daniel and I will be right here if you need us.”
I didn’t realize what a monumental undertaking washing off would be. Just leaning over to turn the faucet on had my jaw locked and teeth ground together, and removing my clothes was worse than taking too big of a step. Every time my skin stretched or the muscles in my abdomen tightened, I wanted to claw at anything within reach to alleviate the discomfort. Tears trickled down my cheeks and quickly turned into a downpour the moment I attempted to step over the edge of the tub.
The cry I let out had the door flying open, and Gage and Daniel appeared in the bathroom. I sobbed, Daniel wailed, and Gage was lost.
“What happened?” He reached out to cup my face, and his eyes raked over my body to see what I had hurt. “Why’d you scream?”
There I stood, naked as the day was long, about to throw in the towel, and we were only on day two. I hadn’t even made it two hours at home before I was hysterical and defeated. Gage’s focus never left my face; he didn’t use the opportunity to cop a feel or make a crass comment about how big I was or even gawk at my incision.
“Katie…” Worry brewed in his features while he waited for my reply.
I wiped my snotty nose on the back of my hand and used my forearm to clear the tears from my cheeks. “I can’t get in,” I whimpered. It might have been more of a whine.
He wrapped his arm around me and tucked me into the security of his embrace. “Shh. Don’t cry. Let me go get the carrier so I can set him down, and I’ll help you.” Gage leaned back and waited for me to agree.
A couple minutes later, he returned. Somehow, in the few moments he was gone, he’d managed to grab the car seat and gotten Daniel back to sleep nestled inside it. I was in awe of Gage Nix—my very own baby whisperer. He was incredible with his son, and I was failing miserably. I’d always worried Gage would flake out, yet here I was all wrapped up in my pity party for one while he held down the fort. And the tears started all over again.
“Let me help you in. I’m sure you’ll feel better after a hot shower.” The reverence in his tone lessened the doubt in my head. He wasn’t keeping score of who did what, he just wanted our little team to come out with a win.
Gage lifted my foot over the side of the bathtub, since contracting my stomach muscles to make that happen was horrible, and once I shifted my weight to the foot resting in the shower, he did the same with the other. I expected him to close the curtain and leave. To my surprise, he tilted the water in toward the wall—so it didn’t get all over the floor yet still kept me warm—and then he leaned over and grabbed the shampoo. My eyes traced his movements from squeezing the goo into his palm, rubbing his hands together, and then lifting them out of my sight to massage my scalp.
When he was done, he rinsed it, then conditioned it with the precision of a professional stylist, and rinsed it again. Just when I thought the lavish treatment was over, he grabbed the soap and a clean washcloth and gently washed my entire body, careful not to go near the incision. There wasn’t a single word spoken. The towel he wrapped around me warded off the chill while he patted my skin dry with another, and then he tried to get the excess water out of my hair. I watched in the mirror while he carefully combed out my locks and blew out a little of the dampness with a hairdryer. It would be a total frizzball without product, but it just didn’t matter. Each gesture, every move, the tiniest little details etched themselves into my memory and acted like a hammer on the door to my heart.
All the things that had driven me nuts were all the pieces of Gage that made him special. He always saw a silver lining around storm clouds where most of us just saw rain. I’d smiled more with him in the last few months than I had in years combined. Even with the media and my past, Gage had my back, and my side, and my front…he had every inch covered. Gage had been knocking for months, and it was then that I knew, it was time to let him in.
“I forgot to get you something to wear. I’ll be right back.” He was out the door before I could reply, and Daniel lay sleeping in the carrier on the floor.
My tongue snaked out and drew my bottom lip between my teeth. I chewed on the corner, waiting for Gage to return. He peeked his head into the bathroom and then eased himself through a crack before closing the door behind him. I grinned when I saw what was in his hand.
“I got you a tank top and a pair of my boxers. Then I realized it might not feel good to have the shirt tight on your stitches, and it would probably make it pretty difficult to feed the little guy. I looked for a button-down shirt that wouldn’t be scratchy or uncomfortable for you to sleep in, and that was unsuccessful. But this is pretty soft, and it won’t rub your tummy. It’s easy to open, too.” He held up one of his jerseys for me to slip my arms into, and I couldn’t stop myself.
Maybe it was drugs still lingering in my system, leftover pregnancy hormones, or sheer exhaustion, but whatever it was
, I didn’t want to go another second without acknowledging it. Staring at his fingers, I watched him work his way down the buttons.
“Gage?” I needed to see his eyes when I made this confession.
He kept working. “Yeah?”
I waited for him to look up and held my breath. It was like he knew what I was going to say as soon as our gazes locked. His pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared just a smidge. When his chest heaved, matching my own, I knew I had his attention.
“I love you.”
“I know.” Of course he did.
And just as my chest deflated, his fingers abandoned the shirt in exchange for my chin.
“I love you, too.” He didn’t make a big deal out of it. He didn’t beat his chest or brag. He finished with the buttons, helped me into a pair of panties and then boxers, and then grabbed the baby carrier and held the door open.
He set Daniel down next to our bed, got me situated under the covers, and kissed my forehead. Kneeling next to the mattress, he pushed my hair back from my forehead, and his eyes danced over my face. “You and Daniel mean everything to me. I feel whole for the first time in my life.”
I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be able to speak. I’d experienced the same loneliness in my life that Gage had and never imagined I’d find anything different. Yet somehow, in one drunken night of grief, the universe tilted the two of us together, forming something unbelievably good for us both. And then we got Daniel.
“Get some sleep, babe.”
Chapter Eighteen
Katie
“Gage, this isn’t optional. You know that.”
“What are they going to do? Throw me in jail?”
“I don’t know, but we aren’t going to find out.” The two of us had been bickering for the last sixty minutes about him getting in the car and driving down to the stadium for the first game of the playoffs.
“I’m not leaving.”
It hadn’t taken long to realize Daniel didn’t like loud noises, which prevented this discussion from getting out of hand. There was nothing like having a serious disagreement over whispered words and hushed voices or trying to do both with a smile in your tone, so your son didn’t detect tension.
“It’s only a couple hours. I’ll be fine.” I was stuck on repeat.
“A couple hours? Where did you learn to tell time? Timex taught me, and I can assure you it’s roughly half a day between warm-ups, the game, and then all the groping that takes place in the locker room after.”
“Regardless, Gage, you’ll be back before you know it.”
“And what if something happens, Katie? What if you need something? What if Daniel does? You can’t drive. He sure as hell can’t get behind the wheel, no matter how brilliant he is for his age. And neither of you would be able to call for help. I’m not going.” Gage was adamant. He was also acting like a petulant child.
I, on the other hand, gave up about twenty minutes ago, and at that point, I was simply trying to wait for reinforcements. Gage had roughly half an hour before he had to leave or risk being late. He’d already had it out with his coach regarding playing, and if he were late, I wasn’t sure what they’d do. The Titans didn’t care that he’d just had a baby—most of the guys on the team endured the same situation at some point in their career.
Last night was rough, though. There’d been very little sleep and lots of tears—mostly mine, not Daniel’s. I hadn’t meant to, but I’d ended up depending heavily on Gage throughout the restless evening to coddle and help me. It was a mistake, and now I paid the price.
“Gage, please don’t do this. The season is almost over. We can explore other options after the playoffs, but right now, there isn’t one. The team owns you, and we both know that. Daniel and I will be fine.”
“Katie, there’s no use discussing this. I don’t care what the Titans throw at me. I’m not leaving you or my son.”
My shoulders sagged with relief when I heard the knock on the door. I only hoped Coby and Ellie could talk some sense into him. Gage ripped the door open—although I wasn’t sure what he expected to find on the other side—it apparently wasn’t his best friend, his wife, and their kids. I’d never been so grateful for visitors in all my life.
He left the door open without so much as a hello to Corinne or anyone else standing there.
“Gage!” I pointed to the little girl standing on our porch, whose bottom lip trembled.
“What?” he hissed back. The instant he turned around to see what I’d tried to show him, he softened, and I exhaled. “Rinny!” He threw his voice well enough to make her believe he hadn’t seen her, not that he’d ignored her.
Her eyes lit up, and she launched herself nearly three feet across the threshold and into his open arms. “Age! Mama said Eighty have da baby. Whewe he is?” She searched over Gage’s shoulder until her focus landed on Daniel in my arms.
Corinne wiggled until Gage set her down, and then she came racing across the living room to cozy up next to me. She cooed at him and petted his head like he was a puppy. “Eighty, he pwetty. You suwe he not a giwl?”
I snickered while Coby handled Gage. “I’m certain. His name is Daniel. Do you want to hold him?”
She nodded eagerly. Ellie helped Corinne onto the couch and then came back to retrieve the baby. I loved watching her interact with her kids. I could only hope that kind of finesse came with experience and that she wasn’t born with it. The boys quickly took a spot on the floor next to her and entertained themselves with toy trucks.
“Gage, don’t be stupid. Ellie can stay here with Katie and Daniel. But you have to go to the stadium.”
“If something happens and I’m not here, I’ll never forgive myself, Coby. I don’t care what they do. It’s just money.” He whipped his hand out of his pocket and extended his arm to point toward me. “I can’t replace them. I can get another job.”
My heart wanted to open up and swallow him whole. I loved the sentiment and how much he cared for us, but it was melodramatic. And totally my fault.
“I promise, we’ll all stay here with Katie. You just need to get in the car. You’re running out of time.”
Gage glanced at Coby, Daniel, and then me, before returning to his friend. “You won’t leave?”
“If that’s what it takes to get you out of here, I promise we’ll still be here when you get home. Ellie can help with the baby, and I can play with the kids while we all watch the game. She’s safe, man. I won’t let anything happen to either one.”
“Me eiverw, Age. I pwotect Danyool.” Corinne’s innocence made my eyes well with tears.
I quickly wiped the pools away before Gage witnessed them. If I were crying, there was no way I’d get him out the door. Coby would have to drug him and drag him to the dugout—which would be rather pointless since he wouldn’t be able to play.
“You’ll do that for me, Rinny?”
She gave him a stiff nod, affirmative.
“Katie, I don’t feel good about this.” Gage walked away from the door to squat next to the chair I occupied.
The scruff on his jaw felt like sandpaper on my palm. And when I shifted to kiss him, I managed to mask the wince of pain that nearly escaped. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Reluctantly, he left after fawning over Daniel and telling Corinne he was depending on her. And when the game started, we all gathered around the television to witness the worst nine innings of Gage’s life. I’d never seen him play so poorly in all the years I’d watched the Titans. He missed balls that he could have caught in his sleep, dropped more than what stayed in his glove, and I lost count of the number of strikes he racked up in a single game.
The announcers took pity on him and reminded the world he’d just had a baby. They speculated sleepless nights, being a dad for the first time, and just being off his game for once. It wasn’t until a reporter trapped him after the game that his fans got a glimpse into his struggle.
“The Titans played a great game. It was kind of an off night
for you, Nix.”
“My heart just wasn’t in it. It’s hard to be away from Katie and the baby, even if it was just a few hours.”
“Tomorrow’s another day. Hopefully, the Home Run King will be back in action.” The reporter disregarded the mention of his personal life.
Coby turned the TV off, so we didn’t have to witness any more of the verbal slaughter centered around Gage’s name and tonight’s performance.
Once Gage got home, he said goodbye to the Kylers—who didn’t linger—and tugged my hand as I followed him up the stairs. Together, we checked on Daniel sleeping in his crib. I prayed we wouldn’t have a repeat of last night. Gage needed to get some rest if he had any hope of a better game tomorrow, and even with as little as I had done today, I was wiped out. He had to be exhausted.
Gage lay down next to me and pulled the covers over both of us. My eyes were heavy, and the way he stroked my head had me out in minutes. I hadn’t felt him move or even leave the room. It wasn’t until I heard Daniel cry that I was aware he was gone. It took me a minute to wipe the sleep from my eyes and clear the fog in my head. Once I moved the blankets back and the cold air hit my warm skin, the chill that set in woke me up enough to walk down the hall. There I found Gage, lying on the floor with his head propped up on a stuffed animal and my son lying on his chest with his thumb in his mouth. The two were a sight to behold. I almost turned around to find my phone so I could take a picture when I heard Gage whisper in the dimly lit room.
“You’re my best friend, little guy.” He ran his thumb over the baby’s chubby little cheek. “I never thought I could love anything more than baseball until I met your mama, and then when you got here, my whole world tilted.” Gage stuck his pointer finger under Daniel’s palm, and I watched as my son’s tiny hand grabbed ahold of it like he knew all the security in the world was held there.
I shifted in the doorway, and the movement caught Gage’s attention.
