Page 32 of Crew (Comeback Duet #1)

32

CREW

One Month Later

Mallory didn’t say anything right away when we stepped inside.

She just stood there, eyes sweeping over the open floor plan, the high ceilings, the curved staircase, and the windows that made the place feel like it was built out of light. Her voice, when it came, was soft. “This place is huge.”

I tried not to grin. “It’s not that big.”

She gave me a look that said: you’re joking right?

“Okay,” I admitted. “It’s kind of big.”

Behind us, Grady pointed toward the back of the house. “Race you to the yard!”

“You better run fast,” Knox called, already jogging after him.

Their footsteps echoed on the wood floors, then disappeared through a set of French doors. Mallory watched them go, shaking her head softly.

“He doesn’t even know where he’s going.”

“Neither does Knox. This is only my second time here.”

The agent had stepped out to take a call, giving us a few quiet minutes to look around on our own. When I first saw the almost 8,000-square-foot house, I knew it was perfect and I had to get Mallory to see it. The kitchen was open and practical, with more space than she’d ever had to cook in. With all the bedrooms, she’d have room for her family to visit, a room Grady could make his own, and even a movie room downstairs. The backyard had a pool and a cabana, and beyond that, a dock that went right out to the river. It had everything I could imagine Grady needing, now and years from now.

They’d been in Portland for a few weeks now, living in a temporary apartment down the hall from mine until I could buy them something more permanent.

Mallory turned back toward the foyer. I followed her as she moved through the kitchen and toward the back of the house.

Out in the yard, Knox was crouched behind an imaginary plate while Grady wound up like he was trying to break a radar gun with the foam baseball I’d given him. He brought it everywhere and the baseball player in me loved it. The dad in me loved it even more.

Mallory’s gaze landed on the pool. And stopped.

“There’s no fence.”

“Not yet.”

“Crew, we have a four-year-old.”

“I already have a company lined up. Alarmed gate. Locking cover. The safest setup they’ve got.”

She didn’t argue. Just looked at the water and the yard. Then at me. “It’s too much house for the two of us.”

“You don’t have to fill it all right away.”

“I don’t need space like this.”

“But you could use it,” I offered gently. “You could have a home office. A guest room. Grady could have a room to paint or wreck or make forts in. And there’s space for your parents to visit. Your sister. Whoever. Anytime.”

Her arms folded across her chest. “It’s a lot.”

“I know. But I’m not going anywhere. I just signed five more years with the Seawolves with a no-trade clause.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “Yeah, the extension’s locked in. No more questions about trades or contracts or what comes next. This is where I am.”

She turned back to where Knox and Grady were. “I don’t know …”

“I’ll take care of everything,” I added. “The Mortgage. Maintenance. Cleaning. You won’t have to think about it.”

“I’ve never lived like this.”

“Maybe it’s time.” She didn’t glance at me when she spoke. “If you’re sure this is the one you want to buy ... then okay.”

I exhaled. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

About Two Months Later

I was the first one up.

Outside, the sun was starting to rise. Inside, the Christmas tree lit Mallory and Grady’s living room in soft color.

I hadn’t slept much. Didn’t want to.

The stockings were full. Only a few crumbs left on the cookie plate. Gifts were stacked under the tree in uneven piles. Mallory had done most of it, but I’d added what I could. A few from Santa. A few just because.

Knox wandered into the kitchen a few minutes later, barefoot, rubbing at his eyes. He stopped beside me and reached for a mug.

“You been up long?”

“No, just got up.”

He nodded, eyes on the tree. “Kind of wild that we get to be here for this. ”

“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

We’d stayed the night in one of the guest rooms. The house had plenty of space, and this way we’d be here when Grady woke up. It was his first Christmas with me. My first with him. That wasn’t something I was going to miss. Ever.

Mallory came out not long after, a cardigan wrapped around her and her hair pulled back. “He’s still asleep.”

“I’m sure he’ll be up soon,” I told her.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and then took a sip and glanced toward the living room. “You ready for the chaos of Christmas morning?”

“Absolutely.” I was. More than I’d ever been.

And right on cue, small feet pounded on hardwood. Then a little voice shouted, “Santa came!” Grady dropped to his knees in front of the tree.

“He sure did.” Mallory sank onto the couch, a smile hidden behind her mug.

Opening the presents went exactly how one would expect in the best way: wrapping paper everywhere, boxes tipped on their sides, tape stuck to the bottom of Grady’s socks. He needed help with the corners sometimes, handing things over and asking, “Can you start it?” Most of the gifts were his, of course. He got books about dinosaurs, a puzzle with way too many pieces, and a toy that lit up and made noise every time he touched it. I wasn’t sure what it was supposed to do, but it was loud and definitely didn’t come with an off switch. He got a new bike with training wheels and a helmet with a bright green mohawk down the middle. The second he saw it, he gasped.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, he spotted a smaller box tucked behind the tree. He crawled over, picked it up with both hands and carried it to me.

“This one’s for you.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”

“Mommy said so,” he stated. “You have to open it now.”

I sat cross-legged on the floor while he climbed into my lap, eyes wide. I peeled back the paper and opened the box. Inside was a silver keychain printed with a photo of Grady on Halloween when I visited them in Harvest Ridge. He was in his custom Stratton Seawolves jersey with eye black smudged under his eyes. I was crouched beside him, arm looped around his back. We were both grinning.

“You can bring it with you when you go to your games,” he told me.

I touched the photo.

“So you don’t forget me,” he added.

I pulled him close, hand resting on the back of his head.

“I won’t forget you, bud. Not ever.”

He squeezed for a second, then wriggled free and dove back into a pile of gifts.

I reached behind the couch for a bag and handed it to Mallory.

She eyed it. “What’s this?”

“Just open it.”

She pulled out the envelope inside, skimmed it, and froze. “You’re giving me a weekend away?”

“Spa package,” Knox stated. “Hotel, massage, room service. The works.”

“And we’re staying here with Grady,” I said. “The whole weekend.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Just promise me he eats something other than Cheetos.”

“We’ve already got a grocery list,” Knox replied. “With at least one vegetable.”

She shook her head, amused. “You two sure about this?”

“We are.” I nodded. “You deserve it.”

Mallory didn’t say anything right away, just smiled and tucked the envelope back into the bag. “Thank you. For real.”

After a deep breath, Mallory handed me and Knox each a box. “And these are from me.” Once I unwrapped mine, I pulled out a coffee mug. It was matte black with simple white text:

DA D

My fingers curled around the handle as I stared at it. The word looked so simple, but it felt like everything. Like being known. Like finally being exactly who I was supposed to be.

Knox had a mug too. His was navy blue with bold print:

COOL BOYFRIEND.

MEDIOCRE BABYSITTER.

He turned his over in his hands, smiling. “She’s not wrong. I am cool.”

Mallory raised her mug. “I stand by it.”

When things settled again, Knox pulled out a box. He tossed it to me.

I peeled back the paper. Inside was a black T-shirt with one word across the chest in block white letters:

DILF

I stared at it.

Knox shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s accurate.”

I held it up. “You really gave your boyfriend a shirt that says DILF?”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m not wearing this in public.”

He grinned. “Didn’t say you had to.”

I shook my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

But I folded it neatly and kept it.

Then I picked up a small box I’d kept tucked under the tree. Passed it to him without a word. He popped the lid.

Inside was a hotel key card with the name of the hotel across the front. Tucked behind it was a small folded note.

He opened it.

LA. 1823.

He looked at it for a second.

“It was the first night?—”

“I know,” he cut me off.

I smiled warmly at him. “Guess that was the start. Even if we didn’t know it yet.”

“I can’t believe you kept it.”

“I have both.” Usually, we left our keys in the hotel rooms when the team checked out and went to their next destination, but somehow mine had slipped into my bag after the first night he and I had first hooked up in LA after he was traded to the Rockies so many moons ago.

He leaned in and kissed me. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I love it.”

We hadn’t told Grady that Knox was my boyfriend. It never felt like we needed to. He was so young, and Knox had been there since the beginning when I’d learned of my son. They played together, built Legos, and shared snacks on the couch. Grady never asked. He just accepted it—like his life came with a mom, a dad, and a Knox. And one day, maybe we’d explain it. But for now, we just let him grow up with all of us.

Grady sat in the middle of the floor clutching a toy in one hand and a book in the other. He looked up at me and grinned.

I leaned back on my hands and took it all in—the mess, the quiet, him.

This was my life now.

And this was the best Christmas ever.