Page 36 of Cross Check Daddies (Miami Icemen #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Brooke

Jackson sits on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs gently. His face is serious, too grown-up, eyes fixed on the blanket bunched at my waist.

“Are you okay, Mommy?”

I reach for his little hand, tuck it into mine. “I am now.”

He looks up. “You fainted.”

“I know, baby. That wasn’t fun, huh?”

He shakes his head. “I got scared.”

I squeeze his fingers. “I did too. But I’m okay. And you know what? The doctors checked and said everything looks good.”

“Even the baby?”

“Even the babies.”

His mouth drops. “Babies?”

“Two,” I whisper, smiling as his eyes go wide.

“Like...twins?”

“Just like that.”

He blinks, then breaks into a grin. “Can I name one?”

I laugh quietly. “We’ll talk about that later, okay?”

He climbs up gently beside me, resting his head on my arm. I kiss the top of his curls and close my eyes for a second, letting the moment settle.

Then I call out softly, “Ivy?”

She peeks in from the hallway like she’s been waiting for her cue. “Yeah?”

“Can you take Jackson and the guys to get me some ice cream?”

Her brows rise, amused. “Ice cream?”

I nod. “Doctor’s orders.”

“C’mon, kid,” she says to Jackson. “Let’s give Mommy a break.”

Jackson hops down carefully, pats my arm, and follows Ivy to the others.

Ivy peeks back in a few seconds later. “Do you need anything else?”

“Come back. I want to talk.”

“Okay. Let me tell the guys.” She disappears for a minute, and then she is back. She closes the door and flops into the chair beside me, already pulling her phone out.

“First of all,” she says, “they are amazing with Jackson. Second, the Frostbite launch is a hit. It's trending on every platform. Pre-orders tripled overnight.”

I nod, exhausted. “That’s good.”

“Also, some asshole tabloid got wind of your fainting spell and slapped up a headline about you and your ‘rumored romance with the Icemen’s head coach.’”

I groan, dragging the pillow over my face. “No. Not today.”

“Too late,” Ivy says, scrolling. “Your hair looks amazing in all the pictures, by the way.”

“Ivy.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I can’t deal with this.”

“I know.” She slips her phone into her bag and leans forward. “Let’s talk about the real thing.”

I stare at the ceiling. “I’m having twins.”

“Yup.”

“I barely survived one pregnancy. Jackson almost wasn’t here. And now I have a company, three men, and now two babies?—”

“Hey.” Her hand is on mine in a second. “You’re allowed to panic.”

“Good, because I am.”

“But you’re also allowed to be excited.”

I laugh, but it’s shaky. “I think I skipped that part.”

“You’ll circle back. You always do.”

She lets the silence hang there, soft and unpressured.

“Am I selfish?” I ask finally. “For keeping all of them close like this? For not choosing? For needing so much?”

“No.” Her answer is instant. “You’re honest. That’s rare.”

I nod slowly.

There’s a knock a few minutes later, just as dusk starts stretching across the window. A tall figure walks in, holding flowers and a pink duffel bag. Daisy.

She lights up the room without even trying.

“You look like hell,” she says affectionately, coming to kiss my cheek.

“Thanks,” I smile. “I’ve been told.”

She glances at the empty chairs. Cam and Tanner are back asleep, heads tilted toward each other like brothers who lost the fight to exhaustion. “Where’s Ace?”

“He took Jackson home. Needed to feed Buddy. Said he’d be back soon.”

Daisy nods. “Makes sense. He texted me.”

She sets the flowers in a makeshift vase, then pulls the chair up close.

“I’m proud of you,” she says.

“For fainting on a stage?”

“For surviving everything else.”

I sink back against the pillows. “I don’t feel like I am.”

“Well, you are. And I brought something for you.”

She pulls out a flyer and sets it on my lap. “Beau bought a cabin last year. Just outside Miami. No press, no Wi-Fi if you don’t want it.”

I lift a brow. “Are you saying I need to disappear?”

“I’m saying... recover. Breathe. You don’t owe the world your strength every day.”

My eyes sting. “I don’t even know how to do that.”

“You will,” she says, smoothing the blanket over my legs. “You’ve got the launch behind you. The season’s halfway done. The men are already tripping over themselves to be at your side.”

“And the twins,” I murmur.

“And the twins.”

I finally let myself rest.

And I start to believe, just a little, that I’m going to be okay.

The cabin is tucked between palms and sea grass, its porch weather-worn and creaky, the scent of salt air so constant I swear I can taste it.

Daisy and Beau really meant it when they said remote . There’s no reception unless I stand on a rock by the bluff. There’s no pressure, no expectations. Just quiet, broken only by Jackson’s laughter as he chases a lizard across the porch in his flip-flops.

Ivy practically shoved me into the car. Said if I didn’t take time off, she’d personally unplug the servers herself. And she wasn’t wrong.

The tabloids haven’t let up since the launch, every outlet wanting a soundbite. Photos of me at the hospital leaked. Headlines about secret lovers and mystery paternity are being printed by the hour.

So, I did the only thing that made sense.

I disappeared.

Not with the guys. Not after everything that happened.

They offered, of course. Cam wanted to drive. Tanner said we could ride out on his bike. Ace even texted twice to say he’d cleared the weekend if I needed him. Ivy offered to take more PTO and stay in Miami with me.

But I told them no.

Because I didn’t know what I needed.

Because I was tired of being touched gently, looked at like I might break, surrounded by so much love I couldn’t hear myself think. I didn’t want comfort. I wanted clarity. Space to breathe without choosing. Without explaining. Without being held together like I was already falling apart.

So, I packed a bag. Dropped off Buddy at a daycare. Buckled Jackson into the backseat and drove.

We’ve been here for three days, and my brain is finally starting to relax. I make pancakes without worrying about deadlines. I draw with Jackson on the sand. I nap in a hammock without guilt.

And just when I think I might finally, finally be alone?—

I hear tires crunching on gravel.

I freeze in the kitchen, spatula in hand, Jackson humming to himself at the table, drawing velociraptors in orange crayon. I step out onto the porch slowly.

The pickup is dust-coated and familiar. The passenger door swings open before the engine cuts off.

Cam hops out first. Then Tanner. Then Ace.

They came.

They came all the way out here.

My throat tightens.

Jackson’s face lights up. “Cam!”

He runs down the steps barefoot, launching himself at Cam, who catches him with practiced ease. “Hey, buddy.”

Tanner ruffles his curls. Ace gives me that half-smile that wrecks me.

I cross my arms, but I’m already grinning. “How did you even find this place?”

“Well, Daisy wouldn't budge, but we told Ivy we missed you,” Tanner says, pulling a cooler from the bed of the truck. “So, she gave us directions and told us to come check in on you.”

Ace adds, “We figured we’d set up camp nearby. Bring the grill. Stay out of your way unless you wanted us close.”

I thought I wanted space from them, but seeing them makes me realize just how much I actually need them here. Jackson sleeps by eight, and no matter how hard I try to sleep early, I stay up wondering what I am supposed to do next.

Wondering what the news of my pregnancy could mean for my co-parenting Jackson with Aaron.

It’s a lot.

I am glad I am not alone.

I blink hard and turn away before the tears can spill. My chest aches from holding too much, from being too much, and still wanting more.

Later, Jackson’s fast asleep, curled in a cocoon of blankets on the pull-out mattress, one tiny hand fisted near his mouth. The baby monitor glows steadily on the table beside me. I check it twice. His breathing is soft, even.

Outside, the bonfire crackles low. The air is cool, the night settling. It's the kind of quiet that only happens when all the worst parts have been survived.

The men are waiting—beers in hand, shoulders relaxed, that familiar stillness between them.

Cam nods when I step into the circle, and I lower myself between them, stretching my legs toward the heat.

Ace tosses another log on the fire, and the flames flare up, casting their faces in flickering amber.

Cam clears his throat, the sound deliberate. “We’ve been talking.”

Tanner’s eyes flick to mine, steady and open. “A lot, actually.”

Ace leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. “And we’ve come to something. Something we want to ask you.”

I go still. “Okay…”

Cam reaches for my hand, his fingers warm and sure. “We don’t want to make you choose.”

Tanner scoots closer, thigh brushing mine. “We know it’s not what people expect. But nothing about this has been normal.”

Ace watches me carefully. “So we’re saying—if you want all of us, we’re yours. Together. We’re all in.”

Tanner leans in, brushing his lips against my temple. “All in means no more hiding. No more pretending we’re just fucking around.”

“No more what-ifs,” Ace adds.

My heart knocks against my ribs. They don’t understand—this isn’t just about permission. It’s about being chosen without having to sacrifice anyone else. It’s about all of them looking at me like I’m not too much, like I’m not selfish or crazy or fragile. Like I’m enough .

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper. “Any of you.”

“You won’t,” Cam says.

Tanner cups my jaw. “We already made our choice. This is it. You. Us.”

Ace shifts closer, his voice like gravel wrapped in velvet.

“All in means we’ll share you. Support you.

Be there when you’re throwing up in the mornings and cussing us out because your bra doesn’t fit.

It means we raise the kids together. Love you together.

No timelines. No rules except the ones we make for us. ”

A tear slips out, hot and fast. “Even if we don’t know whose babies they are?”