Page 20 of Wake Me Up (New England Bay Sharks #5)

S itting on the couch, my mom smiles at me, nodding down at a sleeping Avy in my arms. “Let me carry her into her room,” she whispers, standing up slowly and coming beside us.

As she reaches for her, I widen my eyes. “Mom, she’s seven. Not two or three,” I practically hiss. “You’ll hurt your back, trying to carry her up the stairs.”

My mom is in her mid-fifties and in fabulous shape. I need her to stay that way too. She always wants to do the most when it comes to my babies, and I appreciate it more than she could ever know. But she needs to not be Superwoman sometimes.

She gives me a look that tells me instantly to shut the hell up before rolling her eyes. She slides her hand under my daughter and lifts her up. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand with her, but once she does, she takes off for the stairs. Only stopping to look over her shoulder at me.

“You know, I’m not decrepit,” she sasses. “You’re not putting my ass in a nursing home just yet.”

“Oh, bummer,” I tease her before sighing. “I know, Mom. I just … don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Ignoring me, she heads up the stairs slowly but surely, taking one at a time, until she makes it to the top. I hear the wood creaking under her feet. I’m impressed because I’ve carried Avy up there recently, and it’s no easy task.

Reaching for the TV remote, I flip through the channels until it lands on a picture of a familiar stadium, the home of the Bay Sharks.

I stare at the television, wondering where my dad, Gramp Frank, and the boys are sitting in the arena.

Even when the boys have a game on, I hardly pay attention.

Since Aviana just came home yesterday, I promised Cash and Cane I’d put the game on once she fell asleep.

The reporters talk about the game and how the Bruins center, Cam Hardy, is having a terrific night.

They talk about how the Sharks center, Walker James, is one of the only talents that rivals Hardy’s strengths.

And then, right when my mom plops down on the couch again, the cameraman finds Tripp, and the reporters dive into what a game he’s had, letting nothing get past him yet, even well into the second half of the game.

He guards his goal, just like he always does, and I swear it’s like watching a different person from the one I’ve seen during pickup and drop-off for Cash’s lessons.

A different one from the guy who proposed we get married just this morning.

Feeling my mom’s stare, I quickly look away and grab my glass from the coffee table before standing. “I’m going to get some club soda. Want one?”

“Sure. I’d never turn down something bubbly,” she says, staying on the couch as I walk into the kitchen and pull open the fridge.

“That Tripp Talmage is something, huh?” she calls to me, and I swear I almost drop my cup, feeling like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “Not bad to look at either,” she adds just as I’m pouring a club soda over ice.

Pulling in a breath, I carry our glasses back into the living room and pass Mom hers. I debate not saying anything back, but when she peeks at me while she takes a sip, I know that’s not an option.

“What are you getting at, Mom?” I say point-blank before relaxing back. “Go on. Hit me with it.”

She attempts to look offended, but fails. “Fine. You got me.” She shrugs. “That man seems to have taken a liking to your kids, is all I’m saying. I mean, first, he offers free lessons to Cash, and then he visits Avy in the hospital, bringing her a damn stuffed hedgehog.”

When I narrow my eyes, she grins. “I know everything, baby girl. Everything, I tell ya.”

Tossing my head back against the cushion, I sigh. My mom and I are extremely close. I can tell her whatever, and I know it’ll be safe with her. But what I am considering telling her … it’s a huge deal. So big, in fact, that I’m not even sure I should say anything at all.

“What is it, Frey?” She reaches over, patting my hand. “Talk to me, babe.”

There’s no easy way to say what I’m about to tell her. It’s not a good thing. How could it be good? It’s illegal. But … here I go .

“When he found out my insurance wouldn’t cover Avy’s surgery …

Tripp offered to marry me so that I could have his health insurance,” I blurt out.

“Well, first, he offered to just pay for the entire thing, but I said absolutely not.” I grimace.

“I am not a charity case, and it would be a hundred thousand dollars—at least.”

My mom scooches closer, swiping her hand over my hair. “Sweetie … why didn’t you tell me that the insurance declined it? You know your dad and I would love nothing more than to help.”

That has me pulling back from her. “That right there is why I didn’t tell you,” I snap. “Dad worked his entire life for his retirement, Mom. He wants to travel with you.” I shake my head. “I refuse to take money from you all. I’d rather—”

“Marry a man you don’t really know?” she asks, cutting me off. Only she doesn’t seem angry, but instead … intrigued.

“Well, no,” I say quickly. “I am not marrying Tripp Talmage. Ever.”

“Why not?” my mom throws back intuitively. “I mean, his health insurance is good. He’s a damn stud muffin. Your kids like him. What’s the issue?”

I stare blankly at the woman who supposedly carried me for nine months and then pushed me out into the world and raised me. “Are you on crack?” I say sharply. “You know, now, I’m questioning if you are ready for a nursing home after all.” I gape at her in disbelief. “I hardly know the guy.”

“If he were a killer, he would have been caught by now,” she utters. “He’s too high profile to hide it.”

“Mom, what the hell are you even saying?” I feel myself growing angrier by the second. “First off, I don’t know him.” My throat suddenly feels achy. “Second off, what about this?” I hold my hand up, showing her my ring.

My ring that my husband gave me.

“Mom, I’m married,” I whisper. “I will always consider myself married.” I tell her the honest-to-God truth.

Single women can choose to marry men for their benefits. But I am not single.

“Jamie didn’t choose to leave us, you know.” I look down at my ring, holding my hand out to examine it. “And I can’t take Tripp’s money. The last thing I want to do is be indebted to a man like Tripp Talmage.”

Her head flies back like I said something crazy, and she shoots me a look of confusion.

“I mean, I haven’t been around the guy, so I don’t really have a leg to stand on here.

But what exactly do you mean by a man like Tripp Talmage ?

Because I have to tell you, babe, everything I’ve seen has been good.

” She waves at the television. “Half our family is at the game tonight because he gave them tickets. Your dad just sent me this ten minutes ago when you were in the bathroom.” She grabs her phone, tapping the screen with her fingers before holding it up.

The display shows my two boys practically right on the ice, both enjoying popcorn and a soda.

“Look at them, honey. And look at those seats, Frey. A once-in-a-lifetime experience, if you ask me.”

Now I rear my head back because I think this woman might have lost her damn mind.

“Mom, I really thought you had a long time to go before I checked you in to one of those nice establishments with bingo and pudding, but you are talking crazy.” I drop my voice down, as if someone were here, listening.

“It’s illegal to enter into a marriage for health benefits. You realize that, right?”

“Yeah, so let your dad and me lend you money,” she says, calling my bluff.

“No!” I stand up in frustration, pacing the room. “I am not about to do that. I am not taking everything you’ve worked your entire life for just because I followed the boy and not my career.”

“Now you’re talking crazy,” she says, clearly annoyed. “You might not have gone to law school like you wanted to, but you and Jamie created a beautiful life together. And soon, you’ll be able to take over the bakery.”

In my heart, I know I’ll likely never be able to take over the bakery. My grandfather is practically married to the place, and that isn’t something I can do, having three kids. Not to mention the huge financial burden it takes, especially in the times when people aren’t buying treats.

“Listen to me,” she says, pulling my hand, forcing me to sit back down beside her.

“I am not saying you should do something so crazy as marrying a man you don’t know just to get your daughter surgery since your stubborn ass won’t take money from the people who brought you into this world, but I am going to say this …

” She stops, squeezing my hand. “Have you ever, just once, stopped and paid attention to all these things Tripp keeps doing to help you? And have you ever wondered why?” She inhales, smiling at me.

“He’s not looking at you like charity, baby.

He sees you as someone worth helping. And I’d say he’s pretty dang fond of your kids too. ”

Releasing my hand, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and relaxes into the sofa. Snatching the remote between us, she turns it up. “Now, let’s watch the Sharks finish kicking the Bruins’ ass, yeah?”

I look blankly at her, but eventually, I work up a nod. I’ve spent all this time wondering why Tripp is so determined to do nice things for me. It’s never crossed my mind it’s because he likes me.

And that makes it even more set in stone that I can’t, under any condition, marry this man for his health insurance. Because if a man that successful and that good-looking is interested in a widowed mother of three, there’s only one reasonable explanation.

He’s batshit fucking crazy. Obviously.

I told Cash and Cane to stick around after the game—as long as it was okay with their mom. In the stands, I can see they are decked out in their gear, and I’m sure they’d love to have their shirts signed by the guys.