Page 40

Eight Months Later

B ay Shark after Bay Shark files through my front door, along with their wives and those who have kids.

The twins came into the world last week, and the team has been chomping at the bit to get over here and meet them.

“Congratulations, Dad,” Paige says, throwing her slender arms around me, Kolt close behind her.

“We’re so happy for you and Sails.”

“Thank you, Paige.” I pat her back before she steps back.

Kolt gives me a simple nod.

“Congratulations, Cambridge.”

I don’t expect him to give me a hug, and when he does, I freeze up because I’m so shocked.

He snaps me out of it quickly by pounding on my back a few times before he saunters off.

When we first found out Saylor was pregnant, we both felt so bad about telling the team because we knew Kolt and Paige had just finished another unsuccessful round of IVF.

And I know that Saylor felt guilty when Paige and Kolt sent her flowers.

They still haven’t given up on having kids, but I’m sure watching their friends starting families when that’s what they want most can’t be easy.

Sometimes, life doesn’t make sense.

Paige Kolburne would make the world’s best mother.

She’s sweet, warm, and caring.

She just has this energy about her that makes everyone near her feel more at ease.

And Kolt would do everything in his power to make that baby happy.

He may come off a little cold, but if he considers you family, he’d burn down the earth just to keep you safe.

It’s not fair that they can’t feel this feeling that I’m feeling, but one day, maybe they will.

And no matter what, at least they have each other.

With a love like that …

anything is possible.

“Uncle Logie is here!” Logan yells, busting through the door with a huge-ass gift bag in one hand and a smile stretched across his whole face.

Amelia pushes through the crowd, staying close behind him and completely skipping over me just to see my babies.

I can’t believe she’s seven years old now.

It seems like Logan just got the phone call that he was a dad.

I remember the look on his face because he had no fucking idea that he had gotten someone pregnant.

When he left the locker room that day, I was scared for him.

I’d only seen him as the dude who had a good time and took nothing seriously.

He’s still that guy, only he’s a damn good dad now.

I wouldn’t tell him this because his head would swell so big that he’d take the roof off my house, but that guy is the best father I know, truthfully.

“The baby freaks have arrived,” Maci says, waving toward Logan and Amelia.

Logan takes Nash away from Saylor, but in the most respectful way possible.

“He wasted no time getting right in there.” I chuckle, watching Logan go into full dad mode as he starts talking about burping to Saylor.

“God love him, but that man’s presence could fill up the world’s largest building.”

She saunters toward them, where Logan is on the couch with Amelia wedged close to him, staring at the baby.

Paige holds Nathan snugly in her arms, staring down at him in absolute awe, while Kolt stands behind her, trying to fight back his emotions, the way he always does.

Saylor walks my way, an exhausted but happy smile on her pretty lips.

Our moms have tried to offer help at night, but she won’t take it.

She says she doesn’t want to just pawn them off on everyone else, and she said she’d feel bad if our moms missed out on sleep.

Spinning her body away from me, I pull her back to my chest and drape my arms around her.

“You know, you can go and take a nap. No one is going to think you’re rude. You have newborn twins.”

A long, deep yawn comes from her throat before she puts her hands on my forearms. “That’s okay,” she says, watching our living room full of friends, who have become family, as they admire our babies.

“I kind of like what I’m seeing.”

Gemma sits next to Paige, and they both ogle the baby sweetly while Smith and Kolt stay behind them.

Smith and Gemma have been here basically every night since we got home.

They both help as much as we let them.

They insisted that next weekend, Saylor and I go to dinner without the babies while they babysit.

Honestly, time alone with my wife doesn’t sound too bad, though I do love being home with all four of us.

Suddenly, Poppy appears at my side, and she scowls.

“Oh, go figure that Logie Bear is already hogging one of the babies.” She rolls her eyes.

“The man has an obsession.”

“Go steal the baby from him, Pop,” Saylor says, challenging her because she knows as well as I do that Logan Sterns isn’t just going to hand that baby over willingly.

I glance behind Poppy.

“Where are Walker and the kids?”

She sighs.

“They were napping, and the baby definitely has a tooth coming in, and, yeah … she’s been the opposite of a ray of sunshine the past few days. I swear it’s almost as bad as when they had the flu last month—wow, that sucked. If anyone ever wants to come around you and they say all they have is a sniffle? Tell them to fuck a couch. No … a cactus actually,” she says with her eyes wide.

“Trust me, at their age, sicknesses suck ass. I mean … multiply the whole no sleeping with newborn babies thing by one thousand. You have to suck their tiny little noses out with a boogie sucker, and they cry nonstop.” She shakes her head.

“Pure hell.”

“Lovely,” Saylor mumbles.

Both of us look around the room, wondering if any of these motherfuckers is carrying some sickness that’s going to turn our house upside down.

“Welp, I’mma go steal a baby,” Poppy chimes.

“So proud of you guys!”

As she walks away, Saylor pushes her head closer to mine.

“You know, we now have to sanitize the whole house after everyone leaves? That sounds awful.”

“You’re not kidding,” I utter back.

We stand there, stunned for a moment.

Maybe it’s because of Poppy’s words or perhaps it’s just because we have hardly slept in days, but eventually, Saylor spins around to face me and slides her arms around my waist.

“Thank you for giving me this family,” she says, smiling.

“Not just the twins, but them.” She motions toward our living room, where my teammates and their families are hanging out.

“We’re pretty lucky, aren’t we?”

I wrap my arms around her, pressing my lips to her forehead and swaying slightly.

“We sure are, baby,” I murmur against her skin.

That’s an understatement though.

I’m the most blessed motherfucker in the entire world because of the woman in my arms and the babies she carried so beautifully for nine months before bringing them into the world.

I could lose all my money and all my belongings tomorrow, and I’d still call myself damn rich.

And to think, it all started in a bar with a revenge hookup.

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Tripp

Freya walks back and forth, pacing in the small bakery.

The panic in her petite body is palpable, and for a woman who is fiercely independent and incredibly strong, it’s obvious she’s about to break.

“Marry me.” After I blurt the two words out, I watch the confusion fill Freya’s face as her pacing stops.

I know I need to explain more.

Aside from the lessons I’ve been giving her son, she and I haven’t spent much time together.

And I’ve only met her other two kids—one who is chronically ill—a handful of times.

“I have good health insurance,” I say quickly, explaining my reasons for suggesting something so bold.

I act like that’s the only reason why I want to get closer to her, which is bullshit, but she’s in trouble, and this will help.

“Great health insurance actually. Marry me, and Aviana will get the coverage she needs. She can get all the medications and procedures to get her better.”

After she stares at me in complete disbelief for a moment, her shoulders suddenly shake with uncomfortable laughter.

“You’re hilarious, Tripp Talmage,” she says, shaking her head.

She grabs her rag from the table, gives the wood a few sprays of cleaner, and starts wiping down one of the tables in the bakery.

“You ought to be a comedian, really.”

I take a few steps closer, stopping just in front of the table she’s wiping.

Her movements stop, and her big brown eyes slowly lift to mine.

“I’m not trying to be funny, Freya,” I say, my deep voice echoing through the room.

“I want to help you. And your daughter. That’s all.”

Unblinkingly, her wide eyes burn into mine.

“Tripp,” she whispers, “you could get in trouble. Big trouble. We both could.” She swallows.

“Forget it. I’ll figure something out.”

The door opens, making the bell attached to the top ring, alerting us that we aren’t alone.

Before turning away from her, I lean down closer.

“You have my number. The ball’s in your court now.”

Gradually, I turn around and head toward the door, passing an older man as he makes his way toward the counter.

The simple truth is, I do want to help her and her daughter.

Her daughter deserves to get the treatment she needs to feel better—to be a normal kid again.

She, along with her two older brothers, lost their father years ago.

They’ve been through enough.

So, I do want to help them—that’s all true.

But sometimes, the truth isn’t so cut and dry because the thing is …

deep down, I’ve had a thing for Freya since the first time I saw her at the arena.

And every time I see her with her kids or working at this bakery, my fondness only grows.

But she lost her husband tragically, and the last thing she wants is another man in her life—aside from her two sons.

I might never get a real shot with her.

I know she gave her heart away a long time ago, and it shattered the day her husband died, but if I can help her out …

I’m going to do it.

So, being her husband for a while?

Yeah, that sounds like it would be time well spent.