Page 11

10

Raven

“ A nd they all say goooood niiiiight…” I sing the last words softly, rubbing my hand slowly over Haddy’s back as I back away from her crib.

Her eyes are closed, and a round nightlight in the shape of a moon sits on a nearby table. It projects stars all over the ceiling of her bedroom, and the blackout shades are drawn. The room is cozy and warm. She has a blanket over her and Axel is clutched at her side.

A pacifier is in her mouth, and several more are scattered within arm’s-reach around her crib. If she wakes in the night, a fresh paci is always within reach.

Hendrix is beside me, and the two of us tiptoe to the door, quietly slipping into the hall and closing it softly behind us.

We hesitate, waiting. My heart beats quickly, and I look up at his blue eyes, ready to declare bedtime victory when the first of her hiccuped cries begins .

He’s ready to charge back through the door, but I grab his arm before his hand lands on the knob.

“Wait!” I whisper, barely above a breath. “See if she’ll calm down on her own.”

Standing on the threshold, we’re still as statues, listening. We’re so focused on whether or not she’ll cry again, I almost miss how close we’re standing to each other.

His luscious scent of warm vanilla woods wraps around me, and much like my baby girl, I want to lean forward and bury my nose in his chest. He really does smell divine.

After a few heartbeats of silence, I take a step away. “Houston, I think we have liftoff.”

He grins, allowing his blue eyes to run over my face in a way that makes my skin prickle with heat. “You’re really good at all this.”

“I’ve been doing it a while. You’ll get the hang of it, too.”

“You make it look so easy.” The side of his mouth cocks a grin that reminds me of Jacob Elordi.

Or maybe with those blue eyes Austin Butler? He definitely has the young, cocky LA heartthrob down pat, with a touch of southern accent. It’s a silly thought I dismiss at once.

“Your voice is so smooth and polished. I didn’t know you were such a good singer.”

“Remnants of my pageant years.” My eyes fall to my hands. “Singing was my talent.”

“We’ll have to do karaoke! I’d love to hear you sing for real.”

“Maybe.” I nod, considering it. I’ve never suffered from stage fright. “I guess that does it. Goodnight, Hendrix.”

He’s still studying me in that way. “Good night.”

I take a few steps in the direction of my bedroom when another round of hiccuped cries begins. Freezing in place, I look over my shoulder, and our worried eyes meet.

Hendrix has been pretty game for learning all this baby stuff, but Haddy’s cries really throw him off balance. I can’t blame him—it takes getting used to .

He’s still right outside her door, but he holds up his hands, whispering. “Should I wait?”

Nodding, I retrace my steps to stand beside him again. Her hiccuped cries are different this time. Now she seems more awake for some reason, and she sounds really pitiful. She sounds like an abandoned child in a dark and scary new room.

Her whimpers grow louder, and our eyes meet briefly before Hendrix and I both burst through her door, hustling to where she’s standing inside her crib.

When she sees us, she holds out her arms. Hendrix beats me to her, lifting her straight onto his chest.

“It’s okay, baby.” His voice is soothing, and he rubs her back as she makes baby humming noises around her pacifier. “We’re here. We got you.”

My lips press tightly as I watch him, and I have no idea why I’m so sentimental. “She’ll probably need a night or two to adjust to the new place.”

He nods, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “Everybody needs to adjust to a new place. Why should a baby be any different?”

“I know what will help. Where do you watch movies?”

Shaking his head, he exhales. “We’ve already established this?—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt. “ Sports . Where do you watch sports? Do you have like a home theater or something?”

I’m pretty certain in a house this size and this luxurious (and with as much as he loves football), there has to be a home theater. I’ve always heard everyone in LA has one.

“Right this way.” He takes off ahead of me, carrying Haddy, who’s clutching Axel and looking ahead. She seems right at home sitting on his arm.

“Here it is.” He opens the door, and I gasp.

“Oh my gosh…” I walk into the dark room with lighted sconces on the walls. “It’s exactly like a real movie theater!”

“That’s exactly what it is.” He reaches out to hit a button .

Black curtains open slowly over a wall-sized screen, and my eyes widen. It really is a small theater. The only difference is instead of rows of seats, there’s a large, black leather sofa in the shape of a horseshoe for us to sit on.

Armrests divide it into sections, and I sit beside him as he arranges Haddy and Axel on his lap. She leans back against his chest like she’s been doing this all her little life, sucking her pacifier and staring at the white screen.

“What do we do now?” I look from her to the screen as well.

He hands me a small remote. “You tell me. This was your idea.”

“Okay, well, back home when we had trouble sleeping we’d watch a movie.” I turn the familiar remote in my hand, pressing the home button with my thumb. “What streaming services do you have?”

“All of them.”

Of course he does. He only watches football, but he has every streaming service.

“It really is a shame you live in LA and you’re completely ignorant of cinema.”

“Cinema?” His brow arches. “That sounds ominous.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you up to speed… starting… here.” I quickly pull up The Princess Bride . “Haddy loves this one, and it’s just long enough and quiet enough that she should be asleep by the end.”

“ The Princess Bride ?” He gives me such a grimace, I almost laugh.

“You’ve seen it?”

“No, but it sounds like a chick movie.”

My brow lowers, and I can’t resist. “Would you say it sounds like a kissing movie?”

Hendrix watches me suspiciously as I start the show. It opens with the scene of a little boy holding a game controller and sitting in his bed .

“Whoa, look at that video game! What even is that? It’s so primitive.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I glance over at him, and Haddy is rooting around, moving into his side so she can rest her little head on his chest.

It’s really cute how comfortable she is with him already. He has no problem with her either, even helping her get into a position that’s comfortable for them both.

“This movie came out in 1987,” I say softly. “It’s a Rob Reiner joint.”

“Rob Reiner?” He looks at me, and I have to hold back from groaning loudly.

It’s so sad. He literally knows nothing about film.

“Rob Reiner was a major movie director. He started out as an actor, playing “Meathead” in the TV show All in the Family , but he made the transition to film with This is Spinal Tap , which led to Christopher Guest making all his mockumentaries.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Hendrix shakes his head.

“He also made Stand by Me ? Misery ?” Nothing. “Where Kathy Bates hobbles James Caan with a sledgehammer?”

“Whoa… That sounds pretty gnarly.”

Exhaling heavily, I wave him away. “It doesn’t matter. Haddy loves The Princess Bride , and she’s only been here six months. You’ll catch up.”

The grandfather bursts onto the scene, and Hendrix exhales a little chuckle when the grandson balks at the ancient fabric-covered hardback book after which the movie is titled.

We watch a few minutes longer, and Hendrix shifts gently in my direction.

“Speaking of brides, I start training camp on Monday, and I’ll be pretty much gone every day, all day, for two weeks. Then preseason starts, and it just gets busier.” My brow furrows, but he continues. “If you’re serious about this marriage thing, we’d better do it a- sap . ”

“Oh!” My stomach tightens, and I sit straighter in my seat. “Right. What do we need to do to get married here? Blood tests?”

“Nope.” He shifts back to facing the screen. “I did some half-assed Google research, and we can get a license in thirty minutes. So basically as soon as you’re ready, we can head to the county clerk’s office. They’ll even provide the witnesses.”

“What about a prenup?” My voice is quiet.

His lips twist, and he looks at me. “This is about securing your trust fund, right?” I nod, my insides tense. “I trust you.”

Blinking a few times, I wish he didn’t tug at my heart so. “I trust you, too.”

“Okay, then.” He exhales a laugh, patting his little girl’s back. “Let’s do this.”

Relief floods my veins. My eyes drop to my hands in my lap, and I blink against the mist clouding my vision.

Maybe it’s my friendship with Dylan or what I know of his family. Maybe it's a leftover connection from our night so long ago, but I do trust him.

He’s a player, but he’s honest. He cares about his daughter and being a good dad. I know he wants to take care of us. He already said as much.

Turning to face the screen again, I swallow the lump in my throat. “How about tomorrow?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“We can be there at eleven.”

“As you wish.”

That makes me grin, and my heart beats faster. Tomorrow . I think about standing beside him, holding hands, and reciting vows in front of a judge.

It’s not a real marriage. Hendrix is doing me a favor so I can get my trust fund so I can take care of our daughter and follow my dream. The end.

I have no reason to feel anxious or even excited. It’s a business arrangement. It’s temporary, not life-changing.

It’s only life-changing when it’s real .

His eyes are on the screen, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. He’s so handsome and confident and sure. Am I the only person who makes bold decisions then secretly freaks out about them?

I’m tired and jet-lagged, and I’m sure my self-doubt has something to do with my mother. It always does. She taught me to second-guess everything. I wish I had some popcorn.

Swallowing the growl in my throat, I settle in beside him to watch this movie, hoping it puts our baby girl to sleep.

Hendrix Bradford is acting exactly how I should be acting. Calm .

There’s no reason for either of us to be nervous. We’re simply checking items off a list, and I’m not losing sight of my goals… in this gorgeous mansion with this sexy man who smells like warm, woodsy vanilla and who treats my daughter like a little princess.

I’m a meteorologist. If I plan to face down hurricanes, I’d better be able to marry Hendrix Bradford without being seduced by his charm.

Trust yourself, Raven .

Ninety minutes later, the sun is setting on the screen, our heroes are sitting on white horses, and Wesley leans forward to give Buttercup a kiss.

Hendrix has been quietly asking questions and making comments throughout the movie, but for the last several minutes, he’s been silent. I hesitate, watching the kiss occur, before turning to notice his eyes are firmly shut.

A puff of air slips through his lips. It’s almost a snore, and I realize he’s out cold. Haddy is equally out, her little baby body is spread across his stomach like it’s the most comfortable thing in the world .

I happen to know that’s not true. His chest is like a slab of granite. Still, it’s the most adorable sight. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I take a quick photo of the two of them happily sleeping hard on each other, thinking one day we’ll want to have documentation of their first bedtime together at Dad’s house. Their first time falling asleep together in front of a movie.

Only… Glancing at my watch, I wonder if I should wake them. I look around the comfortable home theater, and decide against it. The lights are dim, and the sofa is wide and cushiony. It’s perfectly fine for sleeping.

Standing, I walk over to where a square bin is placed beside the wall. I take out a plaid, flannel blanket and carry it to my sleeping people. I spread it gently over the two of them before I straighten, crossing my arms over my chest.

I try to decide what to do with me. I’d rather sleep in the large, king-sized bed in my room on the other side of the house. At the same time, I know the rule—never wake a sleeping baby. But what about a sleeping daddy?

I decide to let them be. Haddy is secure, Axel is in her arms, and the sofa is wide. I lean down to kiss the top of her head, inhaling her sweet baby scent before going to the basket and taking out another blanket.

As much as I want to try out my own luxurious bed, I feel kind of lonely leaving them here. Maybe we’re not a real family, but… is that true?

The wedding might be temporary, but the bonds between the three of us are lifelong. Hendrix wants to be a good father and a supportive co-parent. We can be a family and still be friends, can’t we?

I’m not surprised he wanted to support me. In the one weekend we spent together, I saw the good man hiding behind the cocky player. Otherwise, I’d never have spent the night with him the way I did.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.