34. Lark

Chapter thirty-four

Lark

The plane to Arizona is packed with boisterous baseball players. Thankfully, they mostly leave me alone. I guess word of me feeling unwell the last week or so has gotten around. I tuck myself into a window seat and stare out at the clouds, my thoughts flipping between the unbridled joy I feel, knowing I’m carrying a piece of Dan inside of me, and the sheer overwhelm that crashes over me whenever I try to think through how to handle this.

Telling him is only the first hurdle. He’s got to focus on his season, and if this news distracts him to the point he doesn’t perform at his best, I’ll never forgive myself.

Then there’s the sacrifice I’m going to have to make. I’m still struggling to accept the fact that I have to turn down the internship at the university. After all, there’s no chance I can participate in that while caring for a newborn.

The voice of the players sitting behind me breaks through my thoughts. “I heard the rookie’s got his nickname. Princess.” They both laugh at that, and I can’t help but wonder what the new player did to earn that nickname from the pitchers and catchers already on the ground in Phoenix.

“Sounds like things are good. But Jonesie said Yami’s struggling with his speed, and Monty’s been distracted the last couple of days. Maybe the dream team isn’t gonna happen.”

“Dude, shut up.”

I duck my head, a blush darkening my cheeks. Obviously, one of them knows about my relationship with Dan and realized I could hear them. But being caught unintentionally eavesdropping isn’t what has me biting my thumb from nervousness.

Dan’s been distracted? Why? I know it’s not because of having to leave me at home because the first few days he was away, he sounded confident and happy when he reported training was going well.

But then there was our conversation the day I went to the doctor. He could tell something was up, I know he could. I thought I had reassured him well enough that it could wait until I arrived, but maybe I was wrong.

And if just the idea of big news is enough to distract him, how the hell will he handle the actual news itself?

Oh God.

For the rest of the flight, I’m a nervous wreck. Thank goodness for the medication the doctor gave me, which alleviated my morning sickness symptoms quickly. If I had that on top of the anxious churning in my stomach, I’d be turning the airplane restroom into my new home for the remainder of the flight.

As it is, I pop a peppermint, roll on some lavender essential oil, and close my eyes, trying to find some calm.

It doesn’t work, and two hours later when we touch down in Phoenix, I’m feeling totally drained .

But then I walk into the blessedly air-conditioned Phoenix airport and see Dan Montgomery standing there holding a huge sign with arrows pointing toward him and massive letters that spell out “GUESS WHO’S EXCITED TO SEE LARK? THIS GUY!”

It’s all I can do not to burst into tears at the sight of him. But in an effort to try and hold it in, I come to a complete standstill, nowhere near close enough to feel his arms wrap around me. Someone jostles me from behind and I stumble forward. Dan’s grin falters. Then he drops his sign to the ground and jogs over, and then finally, finally , I’m in his arms.

“Birdie. Hey, baby, it’s okay. I’m here.” He continues to mumble sweet things as people stream around us. They’re probably staring at the crazy lady being hugged by the hot baseball player, but I don’t care. I need this.

After several moments just soaking up his strong, warm, loving embrace, I sniff a few times and pull back, swiping away the tears.

“Hi,” I say, my voice all wobbly. “Sorry to be such a mess.”

He gives me a soft smile and tucks some hair behind my ears. “You’re not a mess. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. And I’m so fucking happy you’re here.” After pressing a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a second longer, Dan tucks me into his side and grabs my carry-on suitcase.

“Come on, we’ll Uber back to the hotel.”

I realize with some horror that thanks to my mini meltdown, the rest of the team has already loaded onto the bus and I’m guessing left the airport. I can only assume my luggage made it on as well .

“How did they know not to wait?” I say as we walk outside to the rideshare area.

“I told Sin I’d be picking you up. He, ah, figured we might want some time alone.” Dan ducks his head and I catch his blush.

Despite my emotional roller coaster, I giggle. “Why? It’s not like we’re going to do anything in the back seat of an Uber.”

He casts me a sidelong glance. “I mean…we could.”

I slap his arm, laughing louder now. “Dream on. Besides, I’m all gross from the flight.”

His lips land on my hair as he squeezes me tight. “Again, no you’re not. You’re beautiful.”

I sigh happily, feeling a small amount of my turmoil settle. Even though the clock is ticking, and I know he’s going to want to talk very soon, for now, I can just enjoy being with him again. And pretend I’m not about to turn everything upside down with my news.

My reprieve lasts only as long as the team dinner we both attend back at the hotel. With everyone now here, we’ve taken over one of the banquet rooms for a feast. Tomorrow, all the players will hit the field, and spring training begins in earnest. Tonight is a chance for them to connect, relax, and have some fun before the work starts.

I’m booked to share a room with another trainer at the hotel. The team policy of players sleeping alone is a bit more relaxed during spring training than it is during the actual season, but rooms were booked before Dan and I became a couple.

However, room assignments don’t seem to matter to him as he bypasses my floor and leads me straight to what I assume is his. We’re silent the short walk down the corridor and as he unlocks his door.

As soon as it snicks shut behind us, I expect him to reach for me and our clothes to fly off. Or at least, I think that’s what I expect. It’s perhaps what I should want? Or need? Truth is, I’m so mixed-up from seeing him again, being near him and soaking in his love, I can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the nervous energy constantly running through me, knowing the conversation I need to have with him is coming sooner, rather than later.

He doesn’t start undressing me, however. No, instead, he leads me over to his bed, sits down, and pulls me into his lap. Then, gripping my chin, he turns my head to face him, and with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face, he says one word that seals my fate for the evening.

“Talk.”