Page 30 of The Last Person (Baker Girls #5)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
HARDY
Offseason
PR since the Super Bowl has been insane, and it’s only been five days.
Mark and Frannie took off yesterday for Anais Bay—the place they first connected last year. At this point, we’re all waiting for an engagement text.
Last year, Mark was at the heart of the rumors in the press, but this year it’s Brian and me. A bunch of guys on the team have reached out to show their support, but it’s the ones who have been silent that I’ll be expecting any potential issues to come from next season.
Assuming Brian and I will be playing for the Bandits next season. Rumors are swirling now, talking about shakeups in the Bandits organization, especially since Wendell announced his retirement as well. Though Mike Brady seemed to be on our side, there are no guarantees about what will happen.
Coach gave us a heads-up that there would be some news coming down the pipeline sometime today or tomorrow, which is why I’m taking Brian on a special adventure to keep our minds off it.
“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” Brian asks from the passenger seat.
He’s been looking out at the snow-dusted fields for the last hour of our drive. I got off the highway early so he wouldn’t suspect exactly where we were going.
“Trust me?”
He rests his hand on my thigh. “Always.”
It’s wild to me that it’s only been a month and a half since we finally crossed the line and admitted our feelings. I’m still a little mad it took me so long to realize the depth of my feelings, but I’m trying to see the time before that as us building our foundation.
And that foundation is strong. I’m the first to admit I wasn’t a relationship guy before this.
I always trusted the process and assumed when it was right, I’d know.
Nothing has ever been more right than being by Brian’s side.
I never have to question how he feels about me or where I stand with him. I want him to always feel the same.
The navigation tells me we’re almost there, so I slow down and flick my turn signal on, pulling into a driveway with a for sale sign at the end.
The bottom part of the driveway is nothing to write home about… it’s a little overgrown and the mailbox is plain, but as I drive up farther, we pass through open wrought-iron gates and the large house comes into view.
The winding driveway has two paths, one that leads to a semi-circle in front of the house, and the other that leads to a garage attached to the far side of the house. I take the semicircle option and pull up behind another car.
Brian’s looking around at everything as I shut the car off, his expression pensive.
His eyes are locked on the stone walkway and steps and the wooden front door as he silently climbs out of the car.
I follow him, a smile growing on my face.
He already loves the vibe of the place, and he hasn’t seen the inside yet.
Not that I’m totally surprised. I asked Frannie and Hallie’s mom to keep an eye out for any home upstate with lots of room and plenty of property for gardens.
When she sent this one to me the morning of the Super Bowl, I made the appointment right away.
If we lost, this could be a consolation. If we won, it would be a celebration. I wasn’t planning on a distraction, but it works for that too.
The house is a traditional-style country estate.
Not gaudy and overwhelming with endless park-like lawns surrounding it.
It’s beautiful with clapboard siding, stone walkways, and trees and shrubs surrounding it.
The land around the house is covered with a mix of wildflower meadows and trees.
Except for the space behind the house, which Brian hasn’t seen yet.
It’s the part I know he’s going to love.
The house is older and some parts are in minor to moderate disrepair, but the beauty and charm of it is all here.
“Where are we?” Brian murmurs, looking around. “I know this is for sale, but… where?”
“Just outside of Ida. About fifteen minutes from Frannie and Mark’s apartment and Hallie and Wilson’s house, and twenty-five ish minutes from Justin and Jade.”
The large front door swings open, and I take Brian’s hand as the realtor steps out and smiles at us, her light brown bob framing her face as she walks down the two stone front steps.
“Mr. Hardison?”
“That’s me,” I say, offering her my hand. “And this is my partner, Brian Ackley.”
“It’s lovely to meet you,” she says, shaking Brian’s hand.
“I’m Jan. When I spoke to Cheyenne Baker, she had wonderful things to say about you.
I’m thrilled to finally show off this gorgeous home.
Unfortunately, there aren’t many people in this area in the market for a house this big with fifty-five acres of land attached. ”
Brian’s head swivels to me. “Fifty-five acres?”
Jan looks between us, either concerned or confused.
“Sorry, I surprised him. He loves everything nature and quiet, so this is probably too much for his brain to handle.”
She laughs, and Brian squeezes my hand. “It’s not too much. It’s just… yeah. Everything I want. And fifty-five is my number.”
I squeeze his hand back. “Like it was meant to be.”
Jan takes us inside, and I’m instantly drawn in by the hardwood floors and open space. There’s a lot of natural light, even in the entryway.
“This house has five bedrooms, six-and-a-half baths, a large kitchen with full pantry, three living areas, a TV room, a four-car garage, and outside—”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to surprise him with that too.”
“Oh, of course. Let me take you through the kitchen first, then I’ll let you two explore on your own.”
“Thank you,” Brian says, eyes drifting up to the wood beams lining the ceiling.
The whole place gives English hunting lodge vibes, but brighter and warmer.
The kitchen is even bigger than the pictures showed, with sleek gold and gray-flecked white granite countertops. Adjacent to it is a dining area where we could comfortably seat the whole Baker Girls clan with room for all the kids that are sure to be added to the mix over the coming years.
“Well, I’ll be here, sipping on my coffee. Take your time, explore every nook and cranny, and wander around outside. I’d start with the living room and bedrooms, down that way,” she says as she points off to the right of where we came in.
“Thanks,” I tell her, leading Brian in that direction. “What do you think so far?”
“It’s stunning,” he whispers. “And fifty-five acres?”
“You could have the garden of your dreams.”
He stops, taking my other hand too as he looks into my eyes. “Did you bring me here because you thought I’d like it? Or is this for us?”
I take half a step closer. “You can assume anything I do now is for us. And I know this is the dream you saw for your future. A big house that you can fill with plants and share with someone you love. Gardens full of flowers, vegetables, trees…” I trail off as he squints at me. “What?”
“How did you know all that? I…” He pauses and takes me in. “I said all that right before one of our away games, but when I looked, you were asleep.”
I bite my lip and take a breath. “I was pretending.”
“What?”
“That night in the hotel room. I was pretending to be asleep. Some part of me desperately wanted you to curl up against me and hold me while I slept. I was gone for you before I fully understood what that meant.”
He bites back a laugh, slowly shaking his head. “If I’d known… I would have held you all night.”
“We have a lifetime ahead of us for that.”
“And you’d want this?” He swallows so hard his Adam’s apple bobs. “You’d want this quiet, slow lifestyle?”
“I could build any life with you, and it would be the perfect one because it would be ours. When I look around here, I see a life. A future. With the man I love.”
“Goddamnit,” he groans.
I tug on his shirt and brush my lips over his. “Just imagine all the places we could fuck each other here.”
He sucks in a breath and steps back. “Let’s see the whole thing before we get ahead of ourselves.”
“Whatever you say.” I already know he’s going to love it, especially since he hasn’t seen the best parts yet.
We meander through the house, checking out each room, and though Brian maintains his usual calm exterior, his eyes dance at all the natural light in the master bedroom.
The realtor made a good recommendation to see the bedrooms first because it means I’m showing him the most beautiful part of the house last.
As I lead him down the hallway, my stomach twists with excitement.
Right before we get there, I look up at him. “Did I mention this house has a conservatory?”
We stop in the oversized doorway to a room with windows on two-and-a-half walls.
“We can fit a lot of plants in here, right?”
He sputters as he looks around the space.
“It’s perfect. All the plant babies would be happy here.
I know Greta will probably be sassy with me about moving her back and forth between here and the city between football season and offseason, but…
it’s perfect.” He spins to me. “How did you find this?”
“I asked Cheyenne for help. But stick with me because you haven’t seen the best part yet.”
I nod to a set of French doors, and lead him through them onto a massive stone patio, then through the wrought-iron gate at the end and into the expansive gardens.
They’re overgrown and in need of landscaping, but they span for several acres.
Brian stops in the center, looking around in awe.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?”
He cups my cheek. “For loving me enough to find this house to fulfill my dreams.”
“Our dreams. This is for us.”
He pulls me into his arms for a sweeping kiss that leaves me breathless. The kind of kiss I would watch the couples on Bridgerton have and long for.
And yeah, this property gives some low-key Bridgerton vibes too.
“There’s one last thing I want to show you.” Taking his hand, I lead him through the gardens and out another iron gate. We walk up a small incline, and we’re greeted with sweeping views of the valley below.
Behind us is a beautiful view of the gardens.
“This is breathtaking.”
“It’s ours. I’m not the only one who wants this, right?”
He laughs. “No. You’re not the only one. The only place my heart has ever felt more at home or my soul more at peace is with you. This is ours.”
“Good,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist as puffs of steam from my breath dance through the air. “Because I’m going to marry you in this spot one day.”
His eyes widen. “Proposing already? I’m not against it, but—”
I cut him off with a kiss. “You’ll know when I propose.”
“Of course. Because whatever it is will be extra and endlessly thought out.”
“Exactly.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Let’s go tell Jan we want to buy this house.”
I twine my gloved fingers with his, and we walk back to the house, taking in the beautiful landscape around us.
After an hour of discussion and paperwork with Jan, she put the offer in, and she’s reasonably certain they’ll accept it, but we have plenty of room to go up in the asking price if we need to.
Brian’s gaze lingers on the house as we walk back to the car.
Both our phones go off, but he doesn’t bother reaching for his. He’s looking at the fields off to the side of the garage.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and see a text from Coach.
Coach Robbins: This is about to go out.
There’s a link to a press release, and I stop in my tracks as I pull it up.
“What is it?” Brian asks.
“Bandits press release,” I choke out.
He grabs my hand as I read, and for a second, I barely process the words. Then I’m laughing.
“What?” Brian asks. “Are you having a breakdown?”
I shove the phone in his hand. “No. Read it.”
His eyes flit over the screen, then drift back up to mine for a second before he continues, reading aloud, “When asked by reporters why the Bandits would part with their GM right after winning the Super Bowl, owner Mike Brady responded, ‘Our organization does not tolerate homophobia, or anything less than total acceptance and supportiveness. Which is why our new GM embodies that vision.’” Brian looks at me. “Wendell as the GM? Did you know?”
“Not a clue. But looking back, I think Wendell dropped a hint toward it. It fits, though. Right?”
“Yeah. He’s always had a mind for business, and no one knows the world of football like him.”
“Did you see what they said about us?” I ask.
Again, his eyes flit back to the screen.
“And when asked about rumors of trades involving Ryan Hardison and Brian Ackley following their kiss after the Super Bowl and subsequent announcement of their status as a couple, Mike Brady laughed off the notion. ‘Why would we want to get rid of two excellent, hardworking players, both of whom helped us reach and win the Super Bowl this year? Our organization is lucky to have them.’” He breathes out a sigh of relief. “It’s done.”
“You know what this means? I can kiss you anywhere I want, anytime I want. No more hiding. We’re free to be us, to be in love, and to share our joy with the world.”
His lips curve up. “As usual, your vibrance brightens my world. I may not be a shout-it-from-the-rooftops person, but I can’t wait to love you loudly.” He glances back at the house. “And to build this beautiful future with you.”
We collide in a passionate kiss, his lips moving over mine possessively, the cold of the day melting away as his body surrounds mine.
I don’t know why I was ever afraid of my feelings or afraid to admit them to him. There’s no better way I could spend my life than by loving and being loved by Brian Ackley.