Chapter 25

chapter 25

brYCE

“How the hell am I supposed to act?”

All the Stallions who are in Nashville are at Dane and Lettie’s house after the game. I invited Roman, hoping to get into his good graces. It seemed like a good idea before we took the ice, or they took the ice, but now, I can’t handle his positivity.

“Like a grownup and not a sixth grader who got benched.”

“I wasn’t medically cleared—much different from getting benched.”

He chuckles. “You didn’t play. I get it, but…”

“Shearer, why don’t you take Rustavelli on a tour of the house?”

Dane chimes in, “He knows it as well as we do. He’s a great babysitter if anyone needs one.”

Shearer grew up one of ten children. I think he’s number three or four in the rankings. He was always quiet, intimidated by all the personalities on the team. There was brooding Reed and Joe, whose dad we thought was in the hockey mafia. His dad earned three championship rings, and he popped off about it all the time. Brooke’s dad was the hockey coach, and he had come from a big-time university. But Corbin Shearer was a Kentucky boy with raw talent that was recruited by the former coach, so he kept his head down and hung out with his friends from his hometown. After I left, Shearer came along, learned from Reed, Dawes, and Flynn, and turned into a role player for the Nashville Notes. Every time I see him or talk to him, he always likes flying under the radar. Never any girls on his arms. Not a playboy. It’s his fifth year in the league, and he’s never been on TMZ.

Jolie skips toward me with one of Dane’s kids behind her and damn, she’s adorable in her little mini jersey. “Hey, sweetheart. Are you having fun?”

She gives me an enthusiastic nod. Her hair is in two braids, one on each side. Not sure what it’s called, but her blond hair shimmers and shines in the early evening sunlight. “And who is this?”

“I’m Laney. Mommy said you would remember me.”

“Laney. Really? You were a baby the last time I saw you.” It was just last year, but I’ve heard Reed say things like that.

Proud as a peacock, she puts her hands on her hips and declares, “I’m five, and I go to school. Let’s go, Jolie.” They take off running.

Dane and Reed choke out a laugh. Why is it that other kids don’t care if she talks, but I can’t think of anything I want more?

Until Emmaline comes into my view.

She’s running her fingers through her hair and pulls it over one shoulder.

I was wrong.

I want Emmaline more than I want Jolie to speak.

If Jolie never says a word to me, I’ll know she loves me just like I love her. But I need Emmaline in my life as more than a friend and more than a nanny.

Dane says, “I can’t believe you found her.”

At first, I think he’s talking about my daughter and realize he’s talking about Emmaline. I raise my brows, focusing on Dane. “Yeah.” I sigh. “It sucks that I can’t have her… at least not right now,” I say, trying to throw everyone off the secret relationship trail.

“Why?”

I dig my hands into my jean pockets. “Because she’s Jolie’s nanny and Rustavelli’s sister.”

“In college, Devon’s sister dated a teammate. Now, they’re married. Don’t put parameters on your relationship. Hell, you know that’s what Lettie and I did, and we wasted so much time,” Dane offers his advice.

“It was one night.”

Reed elbows me in the side where my ribs are bruised. “Tell the truth.”

“What the fuck? Are you trying to keep me out of the lineup?”

“Okay, Rustavelli can’t find out. He’ll attempt to kill me, and he’ll lose his career. He’s on thin ice with his contract. Please keep it between us. Jolie needs Emmaline, and I don’t want another woman disappearing from my life because I can’t keep my mouth closed.”

Reed’s solemn expression tells me everything I already know. Rustavelli will blow a gasket.

“We’re going to be friends and get to know each other. ”

Danes slaps my back. “The way you’re staring at her is more than friends… take it from me. I know.”

Lettie, Emmaline, and Brooke stride over. “It’s time to let the balloons go. The kids are excited.”

“Let’s celebrate and find out if we’re having a boy or girl,” Dane says as he leans down to kiss Lettie.

Emmaline’s eyes crinkle at the corners she’s smiling so hard. “Thank you for having me and letting my brother and me join in your celebration.”

“I’ve been waiting for you, Rusti…avelli. Is that how you pronounce it?” Lettie covers for her slip of the tongue as Roman and Shearer approach us.

“Rust-A-velli,” Roman says. “Don’t worry, lots of people say it with an I. Sounds more Italian, right?”

The kids hand out balloons to everyone before getting one themselves. Dane and Lettie go around popping balloons. Only one has blue or pink confetti inside. They pop the balloons the kids are holding first and none of them have confetti inside. Lettie’s grandparents don’t have the winning balloon, and her granny says, “Well, shit.”

Emmaline stands between me and Roman. “I bet Shearer has it since he babysits for them.”

“Maybe Brooke since they’ve been best friends since college,” I say.

“Which one, Lettie Bug? Your turn to choose.” Dane looks at Lettie.

She taps her fingers against her lips and then takes the pin and moves in front of all three of our balloons, saying, “Eeny meeny miny moe.” Pink confetti floats down on my head like snow flurries.

Dane says softly, “We’re having a girl. Another beautiful girl.”

Emmaline wraps her hand around my arm and squeezes.

Lettie screams and jumps into his arms, and most of the women have their phones out to document the moment.

But she’s not the only girl to jump into a man’s arms—Jolie comes flying from across the patio and leaps into my body in a tight embrace. “Daddy! I want a baby sister!”

Daddy. Baby sister. Emmaline.