by Nikki Ash
“Tate, is this where your baby lives?”
“Tate Steele, are you hiding a secret family?”
“Tate, how many children do you have?”
“Tate, was the other man who just arrived, the husband? Are you having an affair?”
I ignore them all and run up the front steps. Alex opens the door and quickly shuts it the second I step over the threshold. My eyes adjust quickly to the darkened room and seek her out. Ashtyn is standing by the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide with shock. I go to her instantly, pulling her into my arms and kissing her forehead. “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, not only to her but to myself. “Where’s Row?”
“Sleeping in his bassinet,” she says, her brown eyes full of uncertainty and worry.
“I’m gonna fix this,” I state, placing another kiss on the crown of her head.
“What exactly are you fixing?” Alex asks.
I turn around and look him straight in the eye, prepared to have the hardest conversation, yet make the easiest declaration. “I’m Rowan’s father.”
A plethora of emotions cross his face as he just stares at me. Anger, agitation, worry, surprise, and even a flash of joy.
I decide not to let him speak yet. “I know this is probably not what you expected to hear,” I start, but his fiery gaze cuts me off.
“Not what I expected to hear? That my best friend, one of the people I trust the most in this world, knocked up my sister and left her to fend for herself? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Tate?” his voice booms through the house.
“It’s not what you think,” Ashtyn says, taking a step forward.
“Stay out of this, Ash. This is between me and my so-called friend,” he argues.
“Now, wait a minute. Don’t talk to her like that, like her voice doesn’t matter. Sit your ass down on the couch and listen, dammit.”
Alex seems stunned by my words, taking a small step back before slowly dropping onto the couch behind him. “Okay, I’m listening.” There’s still an edge, a bite to his words.
“There was a miscommunication,” Ashtyn says, walking over and sitting beside him on the sofa. “I reached out to Tate but didn’t hear from him. Then when I did, it wasn’t actually him I was talking to, but someone who manages his social media.”
“She thought I didn’t want anything to do with Rowan, but the truth was, I didn’t know… period. My team gets weekly messages from some woman claiming to be carrying my child or some other bullshit, Alex. They didn’t know she was legit.”
He takes a moment to process what we’ve said. “So, you found out when?”
“When I saw that photo you showed me on your phone, I suspected something was up,” I tell him, heading over and taking a seat in the chair.
“That’s why you wanted to come with me to meet him,” Alex says, recalling that conversation just over two weeks ago.
“Yeah. I wanted to find out what was going on. Turns out, Ash wasn’t too happy to see me here, considering she thought I denied him months before.”
“But we talked that night when you went to your meeting with the GM,” Ashtyn adds.
“And you guys are…what, together?”
“No,” she replies at the same time I answer, “Yes.”
Alex looks at me, irritated. “What does that mean?”
“Well, we’re not officially together, but I’m not going anywhere,” I insist, glancing her way with a pointed look.
“He’s here for Rowan,” Ashtyn tells her brother.
I’m up and moving before she can say boo. Squatting in front of her, I wrap her small hand in my own and bring it to my lips. “I’m here for you too, Sweetness.”
I’m rewarded with a small, yet breathtaking smile. “Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
Just as I move forward, ready to capture her lips with my own, I’m reminded we’re not alone in the room. “So, let me get this straight. You slept with my sister? When? I mean, I don’t want details, because yuck, but when did this happen? You’ve been living here the whole time, and Ash, you were in South Bend.”
I turn to Alex, Ashtyn’s hand still nestled in mine, and answer his question. “Do you remember last August, when I stayed at your place after my knee?”
Alex closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I remember. I got home and was surprised when Ash was there. She was offered the job here in St. Louis.”
“Anyway, I came back home, but you should know, I never stopped thinking about her,” I say, deciding to throw all of my cards on the table.
Alex narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“There hasn’t been anyone else since her, man. I felt this...connection back then and even more so now. I want to spend more time with her and my son. I want to take them out and make them smile. I want to kiss them goodnight and good morning. I want the midnight feedings and even the explosive diapers, even though I’d be okay with less of those.” I glance over at Ash, who’s smiling softly, her brown eyes shining just a little bit brighter than earlier. “And I know I don’t need your permission to date your sister, Alex, but it would make it a hell of a lot easier on all of us if you were okay with it, because I’m not going anywhere. They’re my family now.”
The wetness I saw reflecting in her eyes moments earlier now falls freely down her cheeks. I don’t care that her brother is sitting directly beside her, I take Ashtyn in my arms and kiss her. I kiss her the way I should have kissed her every night since she’s been back in my life. Hell, probably since that one and only night we spent together. I knew she was different. I felt it in my soul, yet I ignored it. I left.
Never again.
“Okay, I don’t want to break up this little smoochfest, but what are we gonna do about the growing crowd outside?” Alex asks, kicking his legs up on the coffee table and relaxing back like he hasn’t a care in the world.
“I’m waiting on PR to send me a press release to proof, but I don’t think Ash should stay here tonight,” I reply, earning a nod in agreement from my friend.
“Definitely not,” he says.
“She can come to my place. I’ve been working on setting up a nursery, so we don’t have to take as much stuff,” I tell Alex. He seems surprised by this revelation, but what he doesn’t know is I’ve been thinking about nothing but Rowan since the day I found out he was my son.
“Wow, no more bachelor pad penthouse? What will all the ladies think?” he teases.
I sit on the coffee table and face him. “There hasn’t been anyone since the night I got your sister drunk and knocked her up,” I reply with a wicked grin. Mostly because I know he’s going to hate that visual.
“Fuck, man, don’t say shit like that.” Alex sobers for a second and adds, “We could always take them to my apartment. No one would think to look for her there. Your place will probably be swarmed with even more photographers.”
“Good point,” I concede, trying to figure out how to safely get her and Row out of the house and into Alex’s.
“Umm, excuse me. Does anyone want to know what I think?” The look she gives us lets us know she’s not too pleased with our decision-making. As I open my mouth to reply, she holds up her hand, cutting me off. “I’m staying here. This is my home, Tate. They’re not running me off.”
“I think you need to consider what he’s saying,” Alex jumps in.
“No, I’m not leaving, Alex.” She turns those gorgeous eyes on me. “I understand our life will be a little different because of you. My son’s father is a professional athlete, so I get that we’ll have to be a little more careful with our safety, but I refuse to move or run away. They’ll get bored soon. Someone else famous will draw their attention. I won’t let them dictate how I live my life.”
“It won’t happen overnight. They’re relentless,” I argue.
She just smiles. “Your bad boy persona wasn’t made overnight either. I don’t expect it to go away just as quickly.”
I return her grin with my own. �
�Okay, well, if we’re staying, I’m going to need to run home and get some clothes. I assume I can use your couch again?”
Ashtyn just shrugs. “There’s room in my bed.”
“Gross,” Alex mumbles, scrubbing his hands over his face and standing up.
My cell phone pings, signaling a text. When I pull it out, I announce, “Todd just emailed me the drafted press release.” I switch over to my email app and spot the one from Todd, but there’s also one below it that catches my attention. “The test results.” I tap on the email as Ashtyn moves beside me. My eyes scan the document, which confirms what we already knew. “99.9 percent. It’s official. He’s my son.”
“I told you he was,” Ash says, elbowing me in the gut playfully.
“I know, Sweetness, but to actually see it in writing, it’s an amazing feeling.”
Ashtyn smiles, and I almost lean down and kiss her again. Her lips are too tasty, too tempting to pass up. However, she reminds me of the other email in my inbox. I read through the press release, making a few notes. I read it out loud and get Alex and Ashtyn’s opinions, and only when they’re both satisfied, do I send it back to Todd.
Just as I slip my phone back into my pocket, I hear a cry from the bedroom. Holding up my hand, I head off to where my son is. “Hey, Row,” I whisper, as I scoop him up and cradle him to my chest. He’s already grown so much in the short weeks he’s been in my life.
Kissing his forehead, we walk to the nursery for a diaper change. I don’t even complain when I unfasten the onesie and find the smelly surprise he left me. Instead, I tell him all about finding that email in my inbox and what it means to be his father. Rowan gazes up at me, hanging on my every word, as I clean him up and get him ready for food.
When I turn around, I find Ashtyn standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, wearing the slightest grin. “Where’s your brother?”
“He ran to pick up some food. We figured since we’re chilling here for the rest of the day, we might as well eat deep-dish pizza.”
I kiss Rowan’s head before handing him off to his mother. “You know what I still don’t understand?” I ask, meeting her gorgeous brown eyes.
“What?”
“We used a condom.”
“We did.”
“That must mean I have super sperm or something,” I boast, a cocky grin on my face.
Ashtyn snorts. “Or something is right,” she teases, brushing by me and heading for the glider.
I help make sure she’s comfy as she gets Rowan positioned in her arms. I try not to sneak a peek as she pulls up her top and releases her nursing bra. I try not to, but I don’t succeed. I totally steal a glance, but not exactly for the reason you’d expect. It’s quite interesting to watch her nurse our child. Rowan knows exactly what to do and latches on right away. His little cheeks work hard as he eats, and I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from it.
“You know, this one here is my favorite play in the whole playbook,” I tell her, running my finger against his arm.
“Which one?”
I take in the sight of my son and say, “The quarterback keeper.”
Chapter Ten
Ashtyn
It’s been six weeks since the world found out the playboy quarterback is a father. I wish I could say they’ve left us alone, but that’d be a lie. They still follow him and snap pictures of every aspect of his life, but they’re just different now. We’ve been photographed taking walks through the neighborhood, grocery shopping, and enjoying dinner at a local restaurant. They’ve even come into the library a few times, lingering between stacks of books, just to see if Tate will make an appearance. So far they’ve lucked out, but since my numbers for library cards have increased, I’m not complaining too much.
A judge signed off this week on the addendum to Rowan’s birth certificate. He’s now officially Rowan Alexander Steele. As happy as I was to give this gift to both Rowan and Tate, it was the happiness reflecting in his eyes that made me the happiest. I know my son has the best father out there, someone who will forever put Rowan’s needs before his own, and that gives me more joy than I ever could have expected.
Alex still comes over weekly and doesn’t seem to be too upset to see his best friend practically living in my house. In fact, they get along better now than they did before, if that’s possible. Of course, they had to work out a few issues, like why Tate didn’t tell Alex before he found out through the tabloids. Alex was still upset we kept it from him but understood when we explained our reasoning a little more.
My parents are coming for another visit next week, since Tate and Alex will be gone at training camp. Tate’s family has already made one long weekend trip to meet their grandson and are planning another one soon.
Preseason starts next week. Training camp is set, and Tate is more determined than ever to take his team to the top. He wants a championship ring so bad he can taste it and is ready to put in the hard work to make sure it happens. His workouts are intense and he’s spending extra time combing over game films and playbooks. Yet, he’s always here for Rowan, gives him nightly baths, and helps with the bedtime routine.
Which brings us to now. After spending much of the evening in the home library, shifting through information from the coaching staff, Tate is finally in the shower. Rowan is passed out in his crib, and I’m pacing the bedroom. I’m nervous. When I glance down at myself, I don’t see the confident, sexy woman I once was. Instead, I see a mom, ten-weeks post-baby, and I worry this navy negligee isn’t hiding the baby fat I’m still carrying in the midsection the way I had hoped it would.
Should I get on the bed, or just stand here and pose?
Doubt sweeps through me as I hear the water shut off in the bathroom. What am I doing? Seducing a man like Tate Steele? He’s probably going to take one look at me and laugh. I’m a good ten pounds heavier than I was the last time he saw me naked, though a good portion of that’s in my boobs. I’m just…different now, and it’s freaking me out a little.
Besides, what if he’s not interested? What if his kisses and gentle touches don’t mean what I thought? I know I fall asleep in his arms every night and on those rare occasions he’s still in bed in the morning when I get up, he’s usually wrapped around me like a blanket. And yes, he has morning wood, but don’t all men? That doesn’t mean it’s because he wants to have sex with me. It just means he’s a guy.
Oh, God, I can’t do this.
Just as I spin around to grab an old T-shirt to change into, I find Tate standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a pair of nylon basketball shorts that hide nothing, if you know what I mean. “Ash?” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off my body. The negligee barely covers my ass, the lace hugging my abdomen like a second skin. The cups barely hold my girls, but that doesn’t seem to bother him too much. In fact, if what’s happening in his shorts is any indication, I’d say he likes it.
A lot.
“Oh, uh, hi.”
Tate steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. His eyes roam my body once more before meeting mine. There’s raw lust reflected in those hazel eyes as he joins me in the middle of the room. He reaches out but doesn’t touch me. “What’s this?”
I glance down before meeting his eyes. “Just a little something I picked up,” I state with a shrug.
He takes another step closer, this time, placing his hand on my hip. “You’re breathtaking, Sweetness.”
“Huh,” I chuckle awkwardly. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” he replies, taking one final half-step forward so we’re right in front of each other. His other hand goes to my lower back as he pulls me against his chest. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
I don’t reply with words. The blush creeping up my neck takes care of it for me.
Tate’s finger touches my chin before slowly sliding down my neck to the valley between my breasts, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hand carefully cups my left breast, my nipples already ha
rd and straining against the material. I gasp as he slips one large hand beneath the lace and lightly pinches my nipple.
“Are you sure?” he asks, searching my eyes.
I’m already nodding. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He moves, lifting me into his arms and kissing me hard on the lips. My hands grip his shoulders, reveling in the feel of his warm, hard body beneath my fingertips. Together, we fall onto the bed, his hands moving over my abdomen, gliding effortlessly over the negligee. I forgot how big, how amazing his hands are. It’s like zaps of electricity every time he touches me.
Suddenly, we’re turning and I’m straddling his hips. I can feel the length of him pressed between me, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to grind against him. But it’s been a long time for me, and the slightest friction will probably set me off right now. Sleeping next to him for the last several weeks has only made my desire for him grow.
“There,” he says, moving his hands up my abdomen, cupping my overflowing breasts, his thumb sliding over my nipple. “That’s better. Now I can see all of you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Maybe we should turn off the light,” I tease, though not really teasing at all. I should have turned off the nightstand lamp before he came into the room.
“Fuck no. I want to see how stunning you look in that outfit.”
I glance down to see what he sees, but all I see are the imperfections. The blemishes. Even if they were brought on by the best reason possible—Rowan—I’m still more self-conscious than I ever expected to be. Maybe it’s because it’s him. Tate Steele. Starting quarterback for the St. Louis Fire. Men want to be him, women with him. And here I am, in a new negligee I picked up from Victoria’s Secret that I’m praying covers up the extra weight I’m still carrying in the midsection.
“Don’t,” he says softly, his always wandering hands tracing the lace over my mounds of breasts.
“What?” I ask, that single word coming out a gasp.
“Don’t second-guess how incredibly beautiful you are, Ashtyn. I’ve never seen anything more breathtaking,” he says, the words seeming to choke him up a little.
