Page 28 of Cross Check Daddies (Miami Icemen #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tanner

I wake to the smell of bacon. It's the kind of scent that punches you right in the chest and drags you out of bed before your brain even catches up.

I roll out from under the sheets, stretch once, and wander toward the kitchen in my boxers, rubbing the sleep from my face.

Cam stands by the stove in a t-shirt and joggers, flipping pancakes like he’s been up for hours. A pot of coffee steams on the counter. The radio hums low with morning talk. It’s strangely domestic, considering that we both know what we’re doing with the same woman.

“Coffee?” he asks, not looking over.

“Yeah,” I grunt, grabbing a mug. “You’re early.”

He shrugs. “Woke up hungry.”

I pour myself a cup, lean against the counter, and sip. The silence is easy between us, but the air always gets a little heavier when Brooke’s name hovers near it. We’ve been careful. Polite, even.

Neither of us goes into detail. We don’t compare notes or schedule rotations. But we both know. We know . She’s been seeing us both. And we’re both still here.

“You headed to the arena?” he asks, glancing up.

I shake my head. “Thinking of grabbing bagels and heading to see Brooke.”

He flips another pancake. “Tell her I said hey.”

I nod, finish my coffee, and head back to my room to get ready.

It’s a quick change—jeans, boots, leather jacket. I grab my keys and helmet and straddle the bike out front, letting the engine roar once before pulling out into the street. The ride clears my head. The wind’s sharp enough to wake me fully, the city blurring around me.

By the time I pull into the GameHatch lot, I’m in a better mood. But when I walk into the front lobby, Lisa glances up from her screen and offers me a soft smile.

“She’s not in yet,” she says. “Want me to let her know you came by?”

“Nah. I’ll wait a bit.”

I park myself on the edge of one of the lobby chairs, scrolling through my phone. Time ticks by. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty-five. I text her. No response.

After forty minutes, I stand, stretch, and head back toward the exit.

That’s when I see her.

She’s just turning into the lot, her car easing into a space near the building. I almost wave, but I catch sight of her face through the windshield and freeze. Her eyes are red, puffy. Like she’s been crying for hours.

I’m already crossing to her before she can step out. She opens the door, and I’m there, crouched beside her seat, eyes locked on hers.

“What’s wrong, baby?” My voice is low, my hand already brushing her hair back.

She blinks fast, swallows, and climbs out of the car, but I pull her in before she can speak. My arms wrap around her, and she sags against me like she doesn’t have the strength to stand alone.

I guide her into the passenger seat and close the door. Then I slip into the driver’s side and reach for her hand. “Talk to me. Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out.”

She breathes, shakily. Looks at me with eyes that hold too much. “I’m pregnant.”

Everything in me stills.

She continues, voice thinner now. “And I’m scared. I had complications when I was pregnant with Jackson. And this time... I can’t even do the test to see who the baby belongs to. Not yet. It’s too early. Too risky. So... it could be any of you.”

Her voice cracks. She turns her face away, ashamed or unsure.

I don’t speak right away. I sit with it. With her words. With the weight of what they mean.

She’s pregnant. She’s scared. And there’s no answer—not now—not one that tells her who the father is.

I could obsess over that. A younger version of me probably would’ve.

But the thing is... I’ve already built a life that includes her.

I’ve pictured it. The late nights. The mess.

The softness. I want her. Not just the best parts.

I want her . And if this is the next part of our story? Then so be it.

I reach for her chin and guide her eyes back to mine. “Okay.”

She blinks, confused. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Because I’m all in. You know that.”

Tears well again, but she laughs through them this time, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve.

“Hey,” I whisper, thumbing the side of her jaw. “You’re pretty as hell, even when you cry.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”

I kiss her gently. Her lips are soft and salty. She leans into it like she needs the warmth more than air. When we part, she’s quieter, her body just a little less tense.

The silence sits thick for a beat. We both know this isn’t small. This isn’t just another bump in the road. This changes things.

I press my forehead to hers, keeping her close. “Have you told anyone else?”

She shakes her head. “Just Ivy.”

She says it without hesitation, but I can see the weight behind her eyes. The fear is still there, threaded through her lashes, tucked beneath the way she tries to stay calm. But it makes sense—of course Ivy would be the one.

Ivy is her safe place, her mirror, her first call, whether it’s a legal disaster or a bad dream. If anyone would know before the rest of us, it’s her.

“I didn’t plan it,” Brooke says softly, voice fraying around the edges.

“I just... She was here. And it hit me all at once. The lateness. The symptoms. And she looked at me and asked if I had tampons, and I couldn’t even remember the last time I bought any.

It just—” She breaks off, exhales, shakes her head like she’s still catching up to her own reality.

“I didn’t even get a second to be excited, Tanner. I went straight to terrified.”

My fingers tighten gently around hers.

“I had complications with Jackson. Bad ones. And now, with this... not even knowing whose it is? It’s not just the baby. It’s everything. You. Cam. Ace. My whole life is already tangled and now?—”

“Hey.” I touch her cheek again. “You don’t have to explain. You’re not alone.”

She swallows hard, eyes wet still. “You’re not scared?”

“I am,” I admit. “But not of this.”

That surprises her. I can see it in the way her lips part slightly, like she didn’t expect me to say it out loud.

“I’m scared of something happening to you,” I say quietly. “But a baby? Not that. Not if it means getting more of you. I meant what I said. I’m all in.”

Her whole face softens, and when she leans into me again, it’s not just for comfort. It’s trust. It’s surrender.

And that wrecks me in the best way.

“Cam’s home right now,” I say carefully. “If you want moral support... I’ll go with you.”

She looks at me, hesitant but considering.

“I’ll stay as long as you need me to,” I add. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her shoulders drop.

She nods. “Okay.”

“This’ll be my first time seeing how the three of us interact,” I say as I shift into gear and ease out of the lot. Her hand is in mine, small and tense, thumb rubbing slow circles against my knuckle like she’s bracing for impact.

She hasn’t said much since we left her office, and I don’t push her. I just drive, the streets sliding past in morning light, the kind that turns windows gold and makes everything feel quieter than it really is.

“I was going to bring you breakfast,” I murmur. “Had a whole bagel plan. But maybe we do that now, yeah? Refuel before we head over?”

She hesitates for half a second, then nods once, lips pressed together. “Yeah. Okay.”

I give her hand a squeeze and swing left, toward her favorite spot by the marina. It’s early enough that the crowds haven’t hit, the windows are still fogged from prep, and the scent of toasted everything bagels and brewed espresso is already working its way into the air.

We sit in a booth tucked into the corner, her shoulders hunched like she’s still trying to fold in on herself. I keep it easy—let her pick at her cream cheese, watch the water, sip her orange juice. No pushing. No questions. Just space.

By the time we get back into the car, there’s a little more color in her face. She’s still quiet, still holding something too heavy for one person, but her breathing’s steadier. And when I glance over at the light, she meets my eyes. Just for a second. But it’s enough.

I kill the engine and glance up at the second vehicle already parked out front—Ace. Probably running strategy with Cam, talking lines and stats before practice. They’ve done it here before, a couple times. Neutral ground, close to the water, private enough to think. I’m not surprised.

What hits me is the way Brooke stares at the car like it’s some kind of omen.

“You okay?” I ask.

“No,” she says honestly.

“We are in this together. I’ve got you!”

She nods again, takes a breath like she’s about to swim into a rip current. I walk with her up the steps, still holding her hand. Her fingers tighten around mine when I push open the front door.

Cam and Ace are in the living room, both on the sectional, papers and tablets spread between them. They look up in sync. The second they see her, everything changes.

They’re on their feet in an instant.

“Brooke?” Cam crosses to her first, eyes wide, already reaching for her. Ace follows close behind, his attention sharp and anxious.

I step back enough to let them come to her, but I don’t let go of her hand. Watching them now, I see it clearly. How much they both care. How fast they fold around her without question.

“You okay?” Cam asks, his voice low but urgent. “What happened? You’ve been crying.”

“Shit, are you hurt?” Ace adds, brushing her hair back to search her face.

“I’m okay,” she says, but it’s not convincing. Her voice is a rasp, barely strung together. She looks up at me like she’s still trying to hold on.

“I’ll make you some tea,” I offer. “Ginger, right?”

She nods.

Cam leads her to the couch while Ace hovers behind them, arms crossed, pacing already.

I move into the kitchen and start boiling water, pulling the little glass jar of dried ginger I keep there.

My hands work quickly, mechanically. I need to do something with all this quiet anger swimming under my skin. I hate that she’s this scared.

I set the tea on a tray and bring it over. She’s sitting now, Cam on one side, Ace leaning against the coffee table like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. I press a kiss to the side of her head and pass her the cup. She takes it with both hands.

“I’ll give you space,” I say.

But her hand shoots out, fingers locking around mine. “Please stand with me.”

I nod once. Stay rooted to the spot beside her. Her eyes are glassy when she looks at the men across from her.

“I need to tell you something.”

They wait, still. Cam leans forward slightly. Ace doesn’t move.

“I’m pregnant,” she says. Her voice doesn’t waver this time. “And I don’t know who the father is.”

The silence is instant. A held breath.

Cam blinks. “What?”

She takes a breath. “I’m pregnant. I can’t do a paternity test right now because of some complications I had with Jackson. My OB said it’s too risky, too early. So… it could be any of you.”

Cam leans back slowly, dragging a hand over his mouth. His eyes are glassy. A quiet kind of stunned. But then his mouth curves. “You’re having a baby.”

She nods.

He laughs once, sharp and full of disbelief. “That’s… wow. Okay. That’s… actually amazing.” He leans in and hugs her, and I see the way her hand clutches the back of his shirt like she didn’t expect him to react like that.

But Ace doesn’t move. He stares at her, jaw tight, breath shallow. “Wait. No. No, this isn’t—there’s no way this is mine.”

Her face twists.

Ace’s voice rises, rough and clipped. “The condom broke once. And I pulled out.”

Cam shifts, shooting him a look. “Come on, man. Not helpful.”

“I’m not trying to be an asshole.” Ace runs a hand down his face. “I just... I’ve been here before. With someone else. And it ended badly. And I am saying that chances are very low that I am the one who?—”

“You know that’s not how biology works,” I say gently. “And even if it isn’t yours?—”

“I need to leave!” he says, now pacing.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I curse. “You are running? You ARE RUNNING?”

“That’s not it.” His voice drops. “I just…I can’t breathe right now.”

Brooke flinches like she’s just been slapped. Ace sees it. He steps toward her, then away again as if the space between them is burning.

“I’m sorry!” she whispers.

“Don’t!” I hiss and then glare at Ace.

“Why am I the only one freaking out. Do you not understand how complicated this is?” he says, softer this time. “This is complicated. This is not something...”

None of us moves. I see Cam’s shoulders sink slightly, eyes locked on the floor.

Ace exhales and looks at Brooke, and his voice breaks. “I’m just saying I need a minute to think.”

Brooke blinks fast, lips parting like she wants to respond, but no sound comes out.

Ace nods to himself, “I just need space. Not because I’m mad. Not because you did anything wrong. I just need to get my head on straight.”

He turns and walks out before anyone can stop him.

Cam hesitates, torn, but follows him out with a muttered curse.

And just like that, it’s quiet again.

Brooke stares at the door, breathing fast. Then her whole body folds forward, and she darts to the bathroom. I hear her retching before I can even move.

I follow, rubbing her back as she clutches the sink.

“Hey. It’s okay. Let it out.”

She wipes her mouth, trembling.

I pull her into me, wrapping both arms around her.

“He’s just shocked,” I whisper into her hair. “That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.”

She doesn’t answer. She just leans against me, crying without sound, shaking like the truth finally broke open every crack she was trying to seal shut.

And I just hold her just like I promised I would.