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Ellie opens her front door and grabs me into a hug. “Welcome! Come on in!”

I feel overdressed in the sundress I chose as I got ready this morning since she’s in leggings and a t-shirt, and I already love the casual vibe here.

We walk through the gorgeous Dalton house, and this whole thing feels very surreal as I take it all in, studying every nook and cranny we pass. We pause by the family room, and I can’t help but break out into a huge smile as I glance into the room.

It’s full of kids.

One rather harried looking woman is caring for all eight of them—did I count that right?—and they all appear to be under the age of five.

“This is the Dalton Daycare,” Ellie jokes, pausing to point out her two kids to me. “Those two are mine, and Elizabeth also takes care of Luke’s siblings’ kids, the son of my best friend who lives across the street, and Tessa’s baby girl.”

Elizabeth glances up and waves, and it really does look more like a zoo than a daycare, but the kids are occupied and even entertained. I guess that’s what Ellie meant when she said I could bring Harper. I wonder if Harper likes little kids? Elizabeth looks like she could use some help, at least for the summer maybe.

We turn past the kitchen to go down a hallway, and we end up in a rather enormous office that’s all white with purple accents everywhere, and there are two smaller desks with computers set up on them. One is occupied by Tessa, who I’ve met a few times, and the other is occupied by a woman I haven’t met.

“I swear, half the wives on the team have worked here at some point,” Ellie says. “You’ve met Tessa,” she says, nodding to Tessa, who waves to me. “And this is Leah. She’s married to Dave Redmayne.” Leah waves, too.

“Nice to meet you,” I say with a wave back to both of them.

“Welcome aboard,” Leah says. “Ellie, if you keep building PCPR, you’re not going to be able to work from home much longer.”

“I know! Or we’ll have to spill into Luke’s office,” she jokes. “I just love having the kids close by. I can’t imagine doing this in an office every day when I can do it right out of my own house. And I know I don’t have a desk for you, but you can work beside me while I train you, and Leah will be working from home a few days a week. We’ll figure out some schedule that works.”

“Or you can just lay across the couch,” Leah suggests with a grin, and I glance over at the purple couch that looks awfully comfortable.

“Works for me! I’m just excited to be here.” I smile at everyone, and I feel like I’m immediately part of this new family. It’s a family I didn’t realize I’d fit right into, but I guess I’m officially a football wife now.

It’s the first time I’ve realized it…the fact that I’m a football wife .

The thought is both scary and exciting.

I’ve dealt a bit with the paparazzi the best I can, but these are women who actually get what I’m going through.

Maybe I’m not as alone as I thought I was.

Maybe they even have advice on how to handle it.

By the time I head home, my brain is swimming with all things Prince Charming Public Relations—from the adorable history of her husband purchasing the company for her to the players who are clients to everything in between. Social media captions and media inquiries and interview questions. I never realized all that a football player’s publicist does, and I’ll have a full plate assisting Ellie as she works to promote each player’s career and public image. She manages twenty-one players now, all players on the Vegas Aces, although a few are handled by Leah and Tessa with Ellie overseeing what they do.

It's a well-oiled machine, and the woman running it is the type of person I could see as a real friend as we get to know one another and work closely together every day.

When I walk in the front door, I’m exhausted and starving. My senses are quickly alerted that something is going on.

I hear soft music playing in the background—Imagine Dragons.

I smell something mouthwateringly delicious—Italian food.

And when I walk into the kitchen, I see a romantic dinner sitting on the table with a bottle of wine in the middle and two full glasses. Sitting in his usual chair is my husband, but he’s not wearing his usual uniform of a Vegas Aces t-shirt and athletic shorts.

No…he’s wearing a suit.

And he looks even more delicious than that food smells.

“What’s all this?” I ask.

He pushes to a stand as he sees me walk into the room. “How was your first day at your new job?”

“It was…” I shake my head a little as I trail off. It’s hard to answer questions when I’m so confused by what’s going on. “It was incredible, actually. What’s all this?” I ask again.

“A date night in with my beautiful wife. We haven’t had much time together lately, and Harper’s spending the night at Bella’s. I thought we could spend a little time together.”

“Don’t you have studying and meetings?” I ask.

He nods. “I do. But it’ll be there tomorrow, and I need a night with you more than any of that.”

My jaw hangs open a little, and he walks around the table toward me. He pulls me into his arms, and he drops a tender kiss to my lips.

“Come eat,” he says, tugging me over toward the table. “I was sitting down to order your favorites when I realized I didn’t know what they are. I don’t know how you take your coffee. I don’t even know your middle name. We’ve rushed this entire thing, so I thought we could take a minute to slow down.”

“Good guess on the Italian,” I murmur as butterflies fill my chest at his words. I glance at the food on the table. Chicken parmesan with rigatoni noodles and garlic bread from my favorite restaurant. What a coincidence.

“It wasn’t a guess,” he says. “I called your mom.”

My surprised eyes dart over to him. “You did?”

He nods. “She told me Vito’s was your favorite and you love the chicken parm.”

“Nailed it,” I say. I can’t believe he called my mother to find out what my favorite food is. I stare at him in wonder as he picks up his glass of wine and holds it up in the air.

“To my gorgeous wife,” he says.

I tap my glass to his and take a sip, and then he dishes out the food from the containers and we both dig in.

“How do you like your coffee?” he asks. “We’ve been living together a while now and I’ve never bothered to notice.”

I chuckle. “A little milk or cream, usually something sweet. I noticed sometimes you drink yours black and sometimes you don’t. What do you like better?”

“I do black when I’m trying to get in season shape. But I like it better with cream and sugar. Middle name?”

“Camille after my grandmother. You?”

“Anderson after my mother’s maiden name,” he says.

Travis Anderson Woods. I had no idea. I don’t know why it never struck me to ask. We’ve gotten to know certain parts of each other—deeper parts than anyone has ever touched, in some ways—but there are still surface level things we have no idea about.

“What’s the best vacation you ever took?” I ask.

He shrugs. “The Bahamas when I married you.”

I chuckle as I cut another piece of chicken. “No, but seriously.”

“We never really did family vacations when I was a kid before I got shipped off to boarding school.” He takes a bite of chicken then clears his throat. “My parents were workaholics. I’ve gone on a few trips with buddies in the offseason, but I’m serious when I say the Bahamas with you probably tops the list.”

I’m not sure why that makes me a little sad.

I mean…we did get married, and we did have a good time. We laughed as we played at the waterpark once Harper got there, and despite her protests she had a blast. We spent intimate nights together alone that still make me break out into a sweat when I think about them.

I guess it’s because he got to feel what it was like to be part of my family—even though my sister is still angry with the two of us and claims we ruined her wedding weekend. I only know this through my mother, who has been filling me in on the details, since Vanessa isn’t currently speaking to me.

“What about you?” he asks.

“The Bahamas was wonderful,” I agree. “We went to Disneyland a few times when I was a kid. Those are some great memories.”

“My parents live about an hour from Disneyland and I’ve only been once. I was so young I don’t remember it,” he says.

Another bit of information that makes me feel sad for him.

We trade more questions about favorites, and then he pulls out a cheesecake from the refrigerator.

He really went all out.

By the time we’re done eating, I’m too stuffed to even move. But the wine is still flowing and the conversation is great, so we both stay in our seats a little while longer as we chat. Eventually he asks if I’d like to take a walk to work off some of the pasta, and I agree.

He leaves his suit jacket draped over the kitchen chair, but he wears his tie and dress shirt with slacks and nice shoes as we walk.

We hold hands as we walk around the neighborhood in front of the stunning, multi-million dollar homes. We haven’t met many of the neighbors just yet. We’ve been pretty wrapped up in our own stuff, I guess, but if this is really going to be home long-term, I think I’d like to at least get to know the people who live around us.

Nights like this make me think it’s possible. I just wish we weren’t running out of time, but with the season right around the corner, I will just have to do my best to soak in every precious second.