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Chapter Twenty-Six

JACKSON

Sunday morning.

Game day.

I wake up before Ivy.

Which isn’t surprising, considering I absolutely ruined her last night.

She’s curled up in my bed, the sheets tangled around her waist, her dark hair fanned out over my pillow. Her breathing is soft, steady. Completely at peace.

And something in my chest clenches.

This woman—the mother of my child—is here. In my bed. In my home.

And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel restless. I don’t feel like I have to be somewhere else, thinking about something else.

I just feel…settled. Like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. It’s a strange feeling, since I’ve never really felt it before.

I scrub a hand down my face, inhaling deep, then slip out of bed.

I put on some sweatpants and head to the kitchen.

She’s going to be starving when she wakes up. And since I kept her up all night, I figure I at least owe her breakfast.

I fire up the coffee maker, crack some eggs into a pan, and toss some bacon on the skillet.

The sound of bare feet padding on hardwood makes me glance over my shoulder.

And Jesus Christ.

Ivy stands in the doorway, wearing my T-shirt.

That’s it.

No bra. No pants. Just bare legs, soft skin, and the faintest outline of her nipples peeking through my shirt.

I immediately want to throw her back in bed and start the whole damn night over again.

She rubs her eyes, stretching her arms over her head. Her belly is small, but noticeable now, just the slightest curve. My gut tightens as I watch her.

“Mmm. You made bacon?”

I smirk, flipping it in the pan. “Figured I owed you after last night.”

She snorts, walking up behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist, pressing her warm, soft body against my back.

“You definitely do,” she purrs against my spine, voice thick with sleep.

I grin.

She wanders to the coffee, pouring herself a cup, then raises an eyebrow toward me.

“Yes, it’s decaf,” I say.

“Read my mind.” She sips it.

She slides onto a barstool, pulling one knee up, my shirt slipping higher on her thigh.

I force myself to look away before I get too many ideas.

“What’s on the agenda today?” I ask, plating up the food and setting a plate in front of her.

She sighs, poking at her eggs. “Lauren’s calling me at some point. She’s all up in my business, wants details.”

I smirk. “That the same best friend who flashed a security guard to get you into the tunnel?”

“That’s the one.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “The one who was there at the bar, too. We gotta hang out again.”

She grins. “Oh, we will. Don’t worry.”

We eat, talking about nothing and everything. She tells me about the funniest things her fourth graders did last week—something about one kid accidentally calling an oxymoron a ‘sexy moron’ during a lesson, and I nearly choke on my bacon.

And then, as she reaches for her water, her phone screen lights up.

A text from her mom.

She glances at it, suddenly quiet.

I set my fork down.

“You haven’t told them about me yet.”

She sighs, rubbing her temples.

“No,” she admits. “They know I was with someone. But they don’t know…who.”

I nod, leaning back.

“I get it,” I say. “It’s a lot.”

She exhales, shaking her head. “They just…I don’t want them to think I’m being irresponsible. That I’m jumping into something when I don’t even know what it is yet. Don’t know if you’re going to be in the child’s life.”

I study her.

“Ivy.”

She looks up.

“I have to be honest. I’m still a little gun shy. I want to trust you. And in some ways I do. I’m getting there, little by little. But these are big things we’re talking about. Really big things, Jackson.”

I set my coffee down and lean in closer.

“I know we didn’t plan this,” I say. “I know we’re figuring it out as we go. But I need you to know something. I want to be in your life. I want to be there for our kid. And I want to be there for you.”

Her lips part slightly.

And for a second, I think she’s going to say something.

But then my phone buzzes.

I sigh, glancing at the screen.

Drew.

I curse under my breath and answer, throwing him on speaker.

“This better be good,” I say, staring at Ivy.

“Boss,” Drew’s voice crackles through the line. “Travis Carter’s PR nightmare just got worse. You need to get to the stadium.”

I rub my temples. “What happened now?”

“His baby mama just did a TikTok calling him out for ghosting her. It’s blowing up. And guess what? She name-dropped you.”

I freeze.

“What?”

“She said something about how she ‘wants her baby daddy to step up like Coach Knox would.’ Now it’s trending. The PR team is losing their shit. You gotta get down here.”

I clench my jaw. “Why the hell would she throw me into this?”

“Don’t know, man. I guess you’ve got that classy, all American image? But this is bad. The league is starting to get pissed at us, even saying that he should get a suspension, possibly, for ‘lack of character.’ It’s totally distracting the guys.”

Fucking hell.

I glance at Ivy. She’s watching me, brows furrowed.

“Alright,” I mutter into the phone. “I’ll be there soon.”

I hang up and run a hand down my face.

Ivy blinks, having heard the whole thing. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, pushing back from the counter. “I gotta go clean up his mess.”

She chews her lip. “You gonna be okay?” I sigh, looking at her. And just like that, all the stress eases up a little. Because she’s looking at me like she actually cares. Like I’m not just some guy she had a one-night stand with. Like I’m hers.

I smirk, walking up to her, cupping her face. "Don't worry about me. By the way, I just got a text from my sister Cassie. She's coming in for the game. You'll be watching the game from the booth. That okay? Sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I’ve had so much on my mind this weekend.”

Ivy blinks. “Wait. Your sister?”

I nod. “Yeah. Cassie. Just warning you—she’s a handful. But you’ll like her. She’s my sister, after all.”

She stares at me, processing. “And she…knows about me?”

I smirk. “I told her about you yesterday, yes. And the baby. Now she wants to get brunch today.”

Her eyes widen.

I chuckle, rubbing my hands down her arms. “Relax, Emerald Girl. She’s cool. But she’s gonna love messing with me about this, so… brace yourself.”

She groans, running a hand through her hair. “Great. So not only am I meeting your family this weekend, I’ll be doing it while trapped in a glass box, where I can’t escape.”

I grin. “Exactly.”

She glares at me. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Alright, I gotta run. Travis Carter has turned my entire day to shit. But I’ll see you later, alright?”

She exhales, nodding. “Fine. But don’t let your PR people throw him under the bus too hard. He is just a kid.”

I smirk. “So are you, Miss Twenty-Seven.”

She scowls. “You are such an ass.”

I chuckle, backing toward the door. “And you love it.”

She throws a piece of bacon at me. It misses.

I laugh my ass off as I head out the door.

As I sit there in my car, heading to the stadium, I realize that as much progress as Ivy and I have made, and despite our out of control sexual chemistry…

There is so much between us that is still going unsaid. We’ve still got a ways to go.