Page 2

R OWAN

“He’s beautiful.” Riley hands me her baby and I cradle him to my chest. “You guys. I can’t believe you have a baby boy.”

I rub my nose against his soft cheek and breathe in the newborn smell. I get my share of babies at work, but I never get to cuddle and inhale their innocence like this.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Walker asks, leaning over my shoulder. “Just like his mama.”

My heart melts. “He is. Have you picked a name?”

Riley smiles up at Walker first, then looks at me. “Emmitt Walker Bankes. After Walker’s favorite running back, Emmitt Smith.”

“I thought you got final say if it was a boy and Walker picked if it was a girl.”

“I did.”

Gush goes my heart. My eyes tear up and I cradle baby Emmitt closer to my chest.

“How was the labor and delivery?” I walk around the hospital room, unable to take my eyes off the pink-faced little bundle in my arms.

“I mean, I’ve had less painful days, but Walker was amazing, supporting me the entire time.”

“Give credit where credit is due.” Walker sits at the edge of the bed and strokes Riley’s face. “You did all the hard work. All I did was—”

“Blow your load and make Riley grow a human for nine months and push it out—” Miles steps through the door and makes a motion with his hands in front of his crotch.

“The hell, man.” Walker shakes his head and punches Miles in the arm. “Have some class.”

“I’m a model for class. Brought you flowers, gorgeous.” He kisses Riley on her forehead, and when he turns, he notices me for the first time. “Oh, hey, Rowan. I didn’t see you there. Sorry about that.”

“You apologize to Rowan, but not my wife, who you offended? Not that you shouldn’t apologize to her as well for being a neanderthal.”

I curl my bottom lip between my teeth to hide my laughter. I’ve witnessed firsthand how much Miles enjoys teasing his teammates as soon as they fall in love. First with Walker and Riley, then with Nash and Kendall. Whichever of his teammates who falls next is sure to get an extra dose of his teasing.

Even when he’s crude, he doesn’t come off as disrespectful. It’s something only Miles can pull off.

“So this is the next NFL star, huh?” Miles comes over to my side and leans against the windowsill. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Riles. But is it a boy or a girl? Kinda hard to tell with all those forehead wrinkles and the bald head.” He lifts up the white cap on Emmitt’s head.

“Meet Emmitt Walker Bankes, our son,” Walker says with pride.

“Emmitt Smith. One of the greatest running backs of all time. Right after you, of course, Bankes.”

“You’re gonna have to kiss my ass a lot better than that to get me to forgive you.”

“Aw, you forgive me, Spank Bank? I’m touched. Wanna kiss and make up?”

“Christ. I can’t even with you.”

Even the excitement of being a new dad can’t hide the bags under Walker’s eyes. Riley texted us yesterday afternoon to tell us she was in labor. That was twenty-four hours ago, and little Emmitt is only two hours old.

Riley is still glowing, but she looks tired too. I nudge Emmitt’s little wrapped body against Miles’s arm. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Uhm.” He glances down at the bundle. “He’s so small. What if I drop him?”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Walker grumbles.

I place Emmitt in the crook of his arm. “Think of him as a football. Protect him and hold him close to your chest.”

Our hands and arms brush as I pass off the baby. Miles locks eyes with me and stills for a moment before focusing on Emmitt again. It could have been from our close contact or from his nerves over holding a newborn, but the air shifted between us. Not something I want to think about right now. I’m sure it’s all the love and pheromones in the air that have me being nostalgic for a family and wishing for something that isn’t there.

Not that I’m wishing for anything with Miles. He’s so not my type and I’m not his. Still, there was a spark. At least on my end.

While he adjusts to holding a human football, I cross the room to Riley.

“Congratulations, Riley. Emmitt is beautiful.” I give her a hug and gather my purse. “I’m going to let you get a few minutes of rest before the rest of the team bombards you. Call me when you’re home and if you need anything.”

I give Walker a hug as well and step out of the room. There’s a crowd in the elevator, so I let it go and wait for the next one.

“I didn’t know babies came that small,” Miles says behind me.

“Small? He’s over nine pounds.” I chuckle

When the elevator opens again, I step inside, and Miles joins me.

“See? I know nothing about kids. I was wondering if you could help me out with something,” he says and pushes the button for the main floor.

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to get a gift for Walker and Riley. Think you could come shopping with me or something? Hold my hand through the process?”

I have to strain my neck to look up at him. While I’m not short, he’s still a foot taller than me. “What did you have in mind?”

His wide shoulders lift in a shrug. “I dunno. Maybe a kid-size football and a helmet or something?”

I laugh as the doors open and we step into the lobby. “It’ll be a few years before Emmitt is ready for that.”

“Exactly why I need the help.”

“I can’t tonight, but how about tomorrow?” Normally I’m free on Friday nights unless Kendall or Riley plan a girls’ night, but one of the pediatricians is retiring and we’re going out for dinner as a staff tonight.

“Tomorrow works. Can I have your number so I can call you for directions to your place?”

Coming from any other guy, this could be considered a classic pickup line to get my number, but this is Miles. Quite a few of his teammates have my number, but not because I’ve gone out with any of them. I’m friends with their wives or girlfriends.

“Sure.” I rattle off my number and he types it into his phone. A few minutes later, we’re standing by my car in the parking lot. “I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Rowan. Looking forward to it.” He waits for me to drive off before crossing the parking lot to his truck.

***

“W hat do you think about this one?” Miles holds up another outfit. We’ve been at Target for twenty minutes and I’m pretty sure he’s gone through every rack and still hasn’t figured out it’s going to be a couple years before Emmitt will fit into a size 2.

“Adorable. But still too big.” I hide my grin behind the stack of outfits I have in my arms.

“What do you mean? It’s tiny as fuck.” He holds out the jogger set and unzips the hoodie. “Little E will be a total chick magnet in this. I have something similar. We can even be twinsies.”

“Twinsies?” The laugh that bubbles out of me is more snort than chuckle. I push around the hangers and find the same set in size nine months. “How about this one? He’ll be able to wear it this winter.”

“Good call. It’s gonna be too hot for something like this in the summer. Maybe I should get him a bathing suit?”

This man is endearingly clueless but he’s having the best time picking out toys, books, and outfits for Emmitt, and I hate to burst his bubble.

“There’s a lot of stuff in this cart. How about we hold off on the swimwear until his first birthday? I don’t think he’ll be doing too many cannonballs this summer.”

“Good point.” He pushes the cart toward the cash registers.

When he puts the four outfits and blanket I selected on the conveyor belt, I move them back and place a divider between our stuff.

“I got it, Row.” He puts the divider back.

“That’s sweet of you, but if you pay for all of this then none of the gifts will be from me.”

The corner of Miles’s lip quirks. “They can be from us .”

He puts an extra emphasis on us, and I tell my body not to react. He’s a consummate flirt. Miles doesn’t know how to be anything but flirty and charming, and I need to keep reminding myself of that the more I’m around him.

“We can chip in for his Christmas present.” I separate our purchases again. No doubt by the time Christmas rolls around, he’ll have forgotten about this encounter.

“Sounds like a plan. When do you want to start shopping?”

“Um, in about six months.”

“What should we do in the meantime?” He slides his credit card in the machine and the cashier recognizes Miles.

“Wow, man. You’re even bigger in real life.”

Miles winks at him then directs his mischievous grin my way. “That’s what they all say.”

They make small talk about the upcoming season while the cashier rings me up, and I bag my purchases since he’s too busy talking football with Miles. Not that I mind. It’s cute watching Miles turn shy when people give him genuine compliments.

He talks a lot of crap with his friends, and even with some of the teens he’s been mentoring, but he’s genuinely sweet to his fans.

“Would you mind signing something for me?” the cashier asks.

The people in line behind us, and a few shoppers at other registers have noticed Miles, and when we head toward the exit, he’s swarmed. He takes it in stride and pays more attention to the kids, dropping down to his haunches to talk to them and pose for pictures.

A mother of two—a married mother, evident by the ring on her left hand—shamelessly flirts with Miles, and he treats her with respect but doesn’t encourage it. Her children are too young to fawn over an NFL star, and when she asks for a picture, she doesn’t even want them in the frame.

“Would you mind?” She hands me her phone, her eyes still locked on Miles. She bats her eyelashes so much I wonder if the falsies are going to flap off.

“Yeah. Sure.” I move my bags to my left hand and hold up the phone.

Miles reaches for the kids and props the older one on his shoulders and crooks his arm around the other, using the two-year-old as a buffer between him and the woman.

I may or may not accidentally cut out the mother in a few of the pictures, focusing more on the boys and Miles.

He hands the older toddler to his mother and returns to my side. “Have a great day,” he says, placing a hand on my lower back and ushering us out of the store.

I have to practically jog to keep up with his long strides, lest he run me over. It isn’t until we’re both in his truck that he lets out a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.”

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” I ask as I fasten my seatbelt.

“I wasn’t expecting the circus.”

“I get it. You’re a big shot around here and the ladies can’t help falling all over you.”

“Not gonna lie. It can be a perk of the job. But the married ladies freak me out. Especially when they act like that in front of their kids. She had her claws out. At one point, I thought she was going to rip out my stitches and I was going to bleed out again.”

“Stitches? Did you need to go back to the doctor? It’s been two weeks. You should be healed by now.” I unbuckle and scoot up to my knees, peering down at his ribs. “Let me see.”

“If you want me to take my clothes off, all you have to do is ask.”

I smack his arm. “Seriously, Miles. Why didn’t you tell me the cut got worse?” I reach for the hem of his shirt and lift it, scanning the healing wound. It’s still pink, but it’s healed nicely, and there’s no evidence he needed real stitches.

“Miles,” I scold, locking my eyes with his.

The temperature in the truck climbs. Or maybe it’s his skin heating under my hand. Or it’s the intensity of his stare. Geesh. This man has too much sex appeal. It should be banned. I try to swallow my lust and his gaze follows the movement of my throat.

I suddenly realize how close we are in the cab of the truck. His mouth is only inches from mine. Has he always had such full lips? Has the color of his eyes always looked like melted caramel? I clear my throat and plant myself back in my seat.

“You’re a pain in the butt.” I fasten my seatbelt and stare out the front window.

His deep chuckle fills the truck, then he starts it up and backs out of the parking space. “Sorry, Row. You’re fun to tease. My boo-boo is perfectly healed, thanks to you.”

He turns right instead of left out of the parking lot, going in the opposite direction of my apartment.

“Where are we going?”

“Figured I owed you lunch after giving up your day to help me shop, and for putting up with my shit.”

“Hm. Yes, lunch seems only fair.”

We ride in comfortable silence until he pulls into the lot next to a cute sandwich shop. The windows are decorated with navy-blue-and-white-striped awnings, and the rustic yet farmhouse-chic sign should be out of place in Boston, but it’s charming. Subs for Miles.

“This okay?”

“It’s adorable. I’ve never heard of this place. Is it a coincidence or did they name this place after you?”

He holds the front door open for me and I step past him into the deli-style sandwich shop. It’s small. There are three pub tables and three four-top tables, which are mostly filled, and an open kitchen so you can watch the workers make your salad or sandwich.

The teenager closest to us looks up and smiles. “Hey, Miles.” She doesn’t have stars in her eyes like most women do when they see him. I take it he’s a regular here.

“You guys been busy, Callie?”

“Steady for a Saturday.” She glances at me, raises her brow, then calls over shoulder to a woman who’s had her back to us. “Lynn. Miles is here. With a guest .”

The woman behind her spins on her heels and gasps, her eyes darting between Miles and me.

“Hey, Auntie.”

Auntie? This adorable woman, who can’t be any taller than five feet, is related to the giant standing next to me?

“Miles, honey. You didn’t tell me you were stopping by today.” She wipes her hands on her apron and pushes through the salon-style swinging doors.

Miles engulfs his aunt in a hug and picks her up off her feet. “Rowan and I were hungry, so I figured I’d show off the place.”

Miles releases his aunt and she grips my forearms with her hands. “It’s so nice to meet you, Rowan. She’s lovely,” she says to him.

“Of course she is.” Miles drapes an arm over my shoulder and hugs me into his side like we’re an item.

I quirk my eye at him and wiggle my way out of his arms. “It’s nice to meet you, Lynn”

“Likewise. Come sit and tell me about yourself.”

When she pulls me toward one of the free tables, Miles finagles her hand off my wrist. “We’re just here to grab a bite to eat. We were shopping for a gift for Walker and Riley’s baby. Rowan is one of Riley’s best friends.”

“They had their baby?” She clasps her hands over her chest. “When are you going to give me grandbabies?” Lynn glances at me then snaps her attention back at Miles.

“Babies make me itch.”

“Did they have a boy or a girl?” she asks, ignoring his comment.

“Boy. Emmitt after Emmitt Smith, Walker’s football hero.”

“That’s so sweet. Do you want children, Rowan?”

My head is spinning with confusion. Why would Miles bring me here to meet his aunt, who is so obviously ready for her nephew to settle down and start a family, when we’re not even dating? Heck, we’re barely friends. More like acquaintances who have mutual friends.

“I’m just getting my career started, so my focus has been on work.”

“What do you do, sweetheart?”

Lynn is as round as she is tall, her chin-length hair bobs when she talks, and she has more energy than a puppy.

“I’m a pediatric nurse.”

“Oh, what a wonderful profession. I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful mother someday too.”

“Auntie.” Miles scrubs his hands over his face.

“Where are my manners?” She pats my arms. “What can I make you?”

I scan the menu over her head. There are specialty grilled cheese sandwiches, hearty subs, and salads. “I’ll have the chicken, bacon, avocado melt, please.”

“Good choice. It’s one of my favorites.” She pats Miles on the cheek and scoots past him into the kitchen.

“I take it you order the same thing every time?”

“I don’t.” He laughs and pulls out a chair for me.

I take a seat and he fills me in on how his aunt got started. She helped raise him and his sister Julia while working at sandwich shops. When they were school age, she got promoted to a manager, but she hated the lack of personality in the sandwiches, the shops, and the routines.

When Miles got his first contract, he leased a space in Florida and fronted her the money to start her own specialty shop. He doesn’t mention anything about a mother or father, and I don’t pry since I don’t like talking about my family either.

“We didn’t have much growing up.” There’s a layer of pain in his eyes he hides as he looks away. When he looks at me again, the Miles Buckingham grin is back. “Unless Auntie Lynn brought home ham or turkey, we didn’t have a lot of protein. But there was always cheese on hand. She’d try to make Julia and I feel special by fancying up our grilled cheese. Sometimes there’d be tomatoes in it, or a mix of something other than American. Julia is our cheese hound.”

“How much younger is she?”

“Jules is twenty-three.”

“Almost a ten-year age gap. That must have been hard.”

“Yeah. I was in high school when she was in kindergarten and my football schedule made it hard to watch her after school. She’d often sit in the stands with a book and be bored out of her mind until Lynn got out of work or practice ended.”

“Are you guys close?”

“I guess so. Closer now that she moved to Boston. She graduated from Florida State last year and is attending grad school here. I bought this place for Lynn, and she’ll go back to Florida in the winter and manage that location.”

Lynn bustles over with a tray filled with food. “Here you go, sweetheart.” She sets the biggest sandwich I’ve ever seen in front of me.

“Wow. Do you have a kid’s menu? I should have ordered off that.”

“We serve Miles-size portions here.” She runs her fingers through his hair with motherly affection.

“I guess so.”

“You two enjoy your meal. I look forward to seeing you around more often.” She kisses Miles on the cheek before heading back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that.”

“What are you apologizing for?” I ask as I pick up one half of my sandwich and take a bite. It’s the perfect amount of homemade bread, bacon, avocado, and turkey. The mayonnaise has a tang of seasoning that I can’t place. It’s delicious.

“What the fuck, Miles? You brought a woman here?” An attractive brunette with stunning blue eyes who just entered the deli glances between Miles and me. “Who are you?”

I set my sandwich down and wipe my mouth. Just because I’ve never seen Miles with another woman on his arm doesn’t mean he’s single. Not that we’re anything but friends. If I was this woman, I’d be jealous too.

I give her a smile and hold out my hand. “Hi. I’m Rowan. We’re just friends. Promise. There’s absolutely nothing nefarious going on between us.”

The woman’s brow lifts to her hairline as she glances down at my hand. Instead of taking it, she tilts her head toward Miles.

“Bro. The fuck? A woman with a vocabulary and manners and who isn’t flaunting her goods? You sick or something?”

“Fuck, Julia. Find a censor button every now and then.” Miles runs a hand through his hair.

“You mean like the one my big brother uses?”

Big brother? Miles? Or is she referring to someone else? I lower my hand and tuck it under my leg as I watch them squabble.

“One of these days your mouth is going to get you in trouble.”

Julia crosses her arms and deadpans. “You talking to a mirror?”

“Might as well be,” Miles mumbles.

“She serious?” Julia turns her attention toward me and gives me a slow, territorial perusal. “Doesn’t seem your type. Too simple and uncomplicated.”

Simple and uncomplicated are what I aim to be, but how she says the words makes them sound insulting.

“Julia Rose,” Lynn calls from the kitchen. “Leave your brother and his lady friend alone.”

I glance between the two, looking for a resemblance.

“Rowan, meet my annoying little sister, Julia.”

I start to lift my hand to shake hers, but after she left me hanging a few minutes ago, I wait and follow her lead.

“Rowan,” she says, still eyeing me with skepticism.

“Christ, Jules. Lower the claws. Row is a friend.”

“Row?” Julia rolls her shoulders back and gives me a curt nod. “Don’t dick my brother over.” She doesn’t wait for a response before heading to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that.” Miles rubs his chin. “My sister can be a little intense.”

I snort. “You think? She’s quite protective of you.”

“It’s payback for me looking out for her all these years.”

I want to ask him about his childhood, but I respect his privacy.

“She’s a good kid under all the gruff.”

We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Julia returns with a sandwich wrapped to go. “Here’s your key. Don’t come by unannounced though.” She drops a key on the table.

“The hell I won’t.” Miles pockets the key and stands, taking his sister in his arms and squeezing her in what I can assume is a breath-crushing hug. “Stay out of trouble and try to smile at least once a day.”

“You smile enough for the both of us.” She pushes him away, but I can see the tenderness in her eyes. “Don’t screw him over,” she warns me before leaving.

“Sorry about that.” Miles takes his seat again and picks up his sandwich. “It’s mostly an act. Jules has a tight circle and no one on the outside gets to see the real her.”

“I can understand that.”

“And by tight circle, I mean our aunt and me.”

“You must be happy to have her close by.”

“Yeah. We grew up in Florida. While getting drafted fresh out of college was a dream, it sucked being far from her and Lynn.”

“You’ve been in Boston since?”

He tilts his head and flashes his flirty caramel eyes at me. “Should I be offended you haven’t read my bio?”

“I haven’t read anyone’s. I’ve never been an athlete or into football. No offense,” I say when he lets out a dramatic gasp. “I go to games to support my friends and their husbands.”

Miles slaps his giant palm across his heart. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I suppose I can bump you up to friend status.”

“Be still my heart.” He winks at me before tearing into his sandwich. After he swallows and takes a sip of water, he asks, “So what was my status before?”

“Hm.” I tap my finger to my chin while I think about how I would classify Miles Buckingham. “A former patient?”

Miles narrows his eyes at me, but I don’t miss the quip of his lip. “Since you’re a pediatric nurse, that makes us sound a little kinky.”

Moisture pools between my legs at his words. I hide my blush behind my sandwich and pretend to be invested in the flavors. I mean, I am. I was. But now I’m trying my hardest not to imagine the chemistry between Miles and me.

Because there isn’t any.

“Do friendly acquaintances go shopping and to lunch together? Hell, we’ve even danced a time or two.”

“That’s true. I suppose you could be classified as a friend of a friend.”

“Ouch. My ego is taking a bruising.”

“As if.” I take a sip of water and slide the other half of my sandwich over to him. “I guess I can call you a friend.”

“I like that.” He picks up the sandwich and takes a healthy bite. When he’s done chewing, he adds, “Friends that—” He looks up to the ceiling and rubs his chin.

My cheeks burn and my panties aren’t getting any drier.

“Friends that shop together. How does that sound?”

“I’m not a huge shopper, but it’ll do.”

“I can’t have that then. Friends that eat together.”

Well, hell. Here I thought Miles was the notorious dirty talker and sexual innuendo dropper. Turns out, it’s me. Everything he says has me thinking about sex. It’s only natural since he exudes sexual confidence.

And it doesn’t help that the moisture in my panties is mingling with the cobwebs of my uncharted territory. At least, uncharted since I flipped the calendar over to this year. Sex had been the last thing on my mind while juggling my terrible hours in the Emergency Room and studying for my classes.

Since Riley and Kendall fell for football players, any free weekend I have in the fall and winter have been spent at Boston Revolutions football games or going out afterwards. Not that I’m complaining. I was desperate for a social life, but it did take a toll on my sleep and ability to focus.

Now that my two best friends are settled in marital bliss and I have more predictable hours, my sleep cycle has finally returned to normal. Which has also reminded my body that it’s not getting what it needs sexually either.

Not that I ever have. Having sex and having your sexual desires and needs met are two different things.

“Rowan?” Miles’s deep voice snaps me out of the sexual rabbit hole I let my mind fall into.

“Sorry. Just making a mental list of what I need to get done this weekend.”

“Yeah? Anything I can help with?”

If you know how to read my mind and please me in ways no man has ever before, hell yeah.

“Only if you know how to do hair and makeup.” I push back from the table and stand. “I have a date tonight and haven’t figured out what I’m going to wear.”

“I’m better at taking a woman’s clothes off than putting them on.” He picks up our empty plates and brings them to the counter. “Heading out, Auntie.”

“Wait, honey.” Lynn wipes her hand on her apron and rounds the counter. “Be a good boy and come by more often. Preferably with Rowan.”

“Are you using me to get to Row now? I’m offended.”

“As you should be.” Lynn pats his cheeks then gives me a warm, motherly hug. “It was lovely to meet you. Next time, tell my nephew to call ahead so I can make sure I have time to visit with you. Or better yet, encourage him to invite me over for dinner one night. I’d love to get to know you.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” I hug her back and pull away. “But it’s not like that with us. We’re just friends. I’ve never been to Miles’s place or had dinner with him before.”

“Don’t lie to my aunt, Row.” He drapes his heavy arm over my shoulder. “We go out after almost every home game.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that,” I tease.

Miles has never hinted he’s attracted to me, and I know today is him being his normal, friendly, and occasionally flirty self. Even if I was interested in him, he’s not relationship material, and I’m not into one-night stands.

It might have worked for Riley and Walker, and even Kendall and Nash’s friends-with-benefits relationship turned out permanent in the end, but that’s not how I roll. It is, however, how Miles rolls. It’s why I can’t let myself get suckered into his sweet gestures and casual flirtations.

“It was really nice meeting you, Lynn. I’ll be sure to mention Sandwiches for Miles to my colleagues.”

?“Thank you, sweetheart.” She pats his arm. “I like her,” she says loud enough for the entire deli to hear before heading back to the kitchen.