Page 75 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

“When I had the architect alter the original plans, this was the inspiration.”

“My old baseball jerseys? For a game room?

“No, your accomplishments for your game room.”

“Mine?”

“Yes, I designed this especially for you.”

“Want to fill me in?”

She puffs out a breath, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. My cock goes hard at the annoyance in her expression.

“You are ruining the big reveal. This is a state-of-the-art, sound-proof, multi-functioning game room to rival all man caves in the universe.”

“Man caves in the universe?”

“Yes.” She flings her hand to the empty corner.

“There will be a custom bar with a full-sized beer cooler. Over here,” she directs to the area in front of the windows, “will be a poker table for eight. It’s being delivered next week.

That—” she spins, gesturing to the main wall, “will have an eighty-five-inch television with surround sound. The gaming systems are arriving this weekend.”

“You thought you could hide all this from me?”

“Not all of it because you watch the security cameras like a serial stalker, but I hoped some of it would be a surprise.”

“I pick out my television.”

“Huh?” Her nose scrunches in her adorable way.

“A man chooses his own television.”

“I planned to ask one of the guys to help me.”

I go to her, leaning the frame against the wall, and circle her waist. “I love the idea.”

The annoyance flees from her features and she wraps her arms around my shoulders. “You gave me my dream house, so I wanted you to have something special.”

“You give me everything.”

She lifts up, brushing her lips across mine. “I love you.”

“Love you.” My hands go to her ass, urging her up.

Right as my tongue slips inside her mouth, Beckett gurgles and Wolf whines, coming to nudge my leg.

“I pumped a lot today. Do you want to feed him?”

“Yes.” She clambers down and I go to him right as he lets out a wail.

As soon as he’s in the crook of my elbow, he settles, his eyes focusing on me.

“Dinner is in the oven.”

“Your mom made lasagna?”

“I did it. And I made enough to take over to Rowan and Ford.”

“Rowan and Ford, or the whole ‘hood?”

“Maybe us women planned a potluck. Ford lifted the ban on visitors. We’re finally allowed to see Xander.”

I cock an eyebrow. “As compared to the hours you spend on Facetime every day with Rowan?”

“It’s not the same.”

“I think Ford was on to something. He should have held out longer.”

After the drama of Jewls, Harley, and Willow’s deliveries, Ford took matters into his own hands.

He spoke to Rowan’s doctor and convinced her to induce.

Since the date was set, everyone in their lives descended to Nashville for the birth.

The Whitman family stayed at their house, but Hotch and Cassie stayed with Ford and Rowan.

All the women were in heaven with the arrival of Xander.

Ford was in hell with everyone in his space full-time.

When Hotch and Cassie left, after two weeks of non-stop company, Ford had enough. He banned visitors. Addie and Carson tried to fight him, but he didn’t budge.

He took the week off and stuck to his rule.

Beckett squirms and a wispy sigh floats across the room. I glance to find Willow leaning on the doorframe, her eyes full of happiness as she stares.

This happens often.

“He knows who you are.”

“He’s starting to.” I breezed through a few of her baby books and know he likely recognizes our voices and scents.

“No, I mean he knows you’re a protector. In your arms, he is safe.”

Damn if her words don’t score deep.

“You gonna get me a bottle before he gets pissed?”

“In a minute. I’m enjoying the view.”

I give her the minute, knowing exactly where she’s coming from. I didn’t think it was possible, but my obsession with Willow has intensified over the last seven weeks. The moment the nurse put Beckett in her arms, something inside shifted.

And every day it grows.

He’s clearly done waiting, letting out a shrill cry.

“Okay, buddy, I’m on it.” She pushes off the doorframe, and I follow her to the kitchen.

She brings me a bottle, then curls next to us on the couch. “Mom went shopping again.”

“Saw the bags.”

“Only one bag was baby stuff. The rest is for the house. She went overboard. Every time I mention something, poof , it’s here the next day.”

“The woman likes to shop.”

“I think it’s guilt gifts.”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s her way of helping. She knows you didn’t get much done before Beckett was born.”

“I’m grateful we were in the house before he came.”

“Told you we would be.”

She smiles sweetly, running her finger over his cheek. “Your daddy put the fear of God into our contractor.”

“We came to an understanding,” I correct her.

“Whatever you say.”

My eyes catch on the table where an envelope sits with familiar handwriting.

The hair on my arms stands and I adjust Beckett to my other side, tucking her closer.

“What did this one say?”

Her eyes dart to the table and back to me. “I haven’t read it yet. Mom brought it.”

This isn’t the first time Stacy or Sterling have delivered letters from Rylee.

Apparently, being ostracized from your sister’s extravagant wedding and shunned from every family celebration flipped a switch with Rylee’s attitude.

Sterling officially moved back into their home after our wedding.

A little tough love went a long way in straightening Rylee out. She found a job and, after a few months, moved to a small apartment on her own.

It was older, outdated, and not up to her perceived glamorous deservings, but it was safe and she could afford it.

Sterling Richards may put up a hard-ass front, but he loves his children. Stacy and Sterling helped her get settled and showered her with the same attention they did Chase and Willow.

According to Willow, her parents’ marriage is stronger than ever because, for the first time, they can concentrate on themselves.

Rosie and Lynden are rebuilding their relationship with Rylee in their own way. Like Sterling and Stacy, they are cautious of Willow’s feelings.

Willow made it known she couldn’t care less. Our life moved on and there’s been no looking back.

Chase, on the other hand, remains fiercely protective of Willow and is not as forgiving.

The letters started arriving the month before Beckett was born.

Sterling brought the first one to me. He knew I’d go fucking off the chains if Rylee wrote anything to upset Willow.

It was a few paragraphs that eventually led to an apology.

Willow didn’t blink an eye when I handed over the open envelope. She was finally in tune with my ways.

We’ve received several letters since, the remorse appearing more sincere.

No one is pushing Willow to respond, but I know it’s coming.

“You want to read it together?” I offer, knowing it will drive Willow crazy.

“Nope, today is too special. She doesn’t get any piece of it.”

“You that excited about seeing Xander?”

Her eyes flicker with disappointment. “I guess so.”

“We do have our own baby to gush over.”

“Yeah.” She focuses back on him.

I school my features, tempering down the urge to smile outright at her pout. ”Anything else happen today?”

“Nope,” she answers a little too chirpy.

“Didn’t your mom take you to the store?”

“Yeah, real exciting outing. Grocery stores are soooo titillating.”

I ignore the sarcasm.

“Nothing new with the wedding plans?”

“Nope,” she parrots.

This is a lie. Bex may be working, but she still finds time to marathon text Willow. Chase, Bex, and Wyatt visit Beckett several times a week, and each time, Bex comes loaded with wedding magazines and new ideas.

If she doesn’t make some decisions soon, Chase has threatened to take over.

He’s done waiting.

“Hmmm, sounds like a boring day.”

“Yep, just another day like any other. Nothing special, nothing at all.”

I don’t hide my grin this time. She’s laying it on thick.

“Take him for a minute.” I ease Beckett into her arms. “I got off early today.”

“Noticed that when you barged in on me hanging the picture.”

I go on, my cock stirring at her snark. “Had an appointment.”

She remains blank-faced.

I pull off my sweater, and her gaze locks in on my upper rib cage.

“What did you do?”

I peel the wrap, giving her a clearer picture.

Her eyes well with emotions. “It’s today’s date. You remembered.”

“It’s right below your missions…” she trails off and sucks in a shaky breath, regaining her composure. “I should have known you wouldn’t forget.”

“Fucking never forget the day I first saw you, Princess.”

“I don’t even remember the woman who met you that night.”

“I do and she was fucking perfect.”

She nuzzles close, kissing a trail to my mouth. “I love you.”

“Never get tired of hearing it.”

After a few minutes, Beckett finishes his bottle and she passes him back to me. “You take care of him. I’ll get the food ready.”

She stops at the base of the kitchen. “I did get away with one surprise today. Since my super stalker husband tracks my moves, I had Mom help me.”

I raise my eyebrows, my mind buzzing at the possibilities.

“Before our trip to the grocery store, we made a stop by my doctor.”

The buzz travels through my system, igniting my nerves. We still have almost a week before she is due to see her doctor.

And get cleared… My dick goes iron-hard at the mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Not teasing yet.”

“You tell the doctor I have a big dick and it’s pierced?”

“I didn’t use those words, but yes, I covered the basics.”

“And she cleared you?’

“Yes, I am healed. ”

My cock lurches in my pants. “You telling me this while I have my boy in my arms?”

“Planned on telling you later, but seeing as you got a tattoo, I can’t let you outdo me on this very special occasion.” My eyes go to the sway of her ass as she prances away.

And the countdown begins.

I kick back in my recliner and turn on the television as my phone rings, Ford’s name on the screen. These late-night and early-morning calls have become the norm. Our boys seem to be on the same feeding schedule.

But tonight, I’ve been anticipating this call.

“You’re a shithead.” His greeting is exactly what I was hoping for.

“It’s called romance. You should try it.”

“Fuck you and your grand gesture. I’m sick of hearing about your new tattoo.”

“Need I remind you that I didn’t get it for you? But knowing it secured me in the number-one husband slot is an added bonus.”

He grumbles under his breath.

“Just upped the ante on you amateurs.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Ahh, the sweet sound of jealousy.”

“How did this become my life? Listening to my wife gush about your dumb ass?”

“Take notes from the master.”

“Fuck that, I’m not adding to your ego. See you tomorrow.” He disconnects.

“You’re gloating.”

I turn to find Willow shuffling into the room. Pride and possessiveness surge through me. She’s dressed in my shirt from earlier, her hair tangled, her lips still swollen, and my marks visible across her neckline.

Thoroughly fucked.

Absolutely stunning.

“Not gloating, basking in the glory of knowing Ford will spend the next few days obsessing over how to outshine my romantic gesture .”

Her squeak turns into a soft laugh and Beckett wiggles at the sound.

“He’s active tonight.”

“He’ll tire out soon.”

“You want me to stay up with you?”

“No, I want you to rest. When I get back in bed, be ready for me.”

Her breath hitches and her eyes light. “Okay, honey.”

Beckett kicks his feet, waving his arms with his gaze searching around the room.

“I know, buddy. She has that effect on me, too.”

His gummy grin turns into a baby murmur.

“Let me tell you what happened to your daddy one year ago today. MVP and Super Star of the winning team was nothing compared to seeing your mom for the first time at a bar named Tom’s…”

He drifts off somewhere in the middle of the story, but I don’t stop, feeling Willow’s presence still behind us.

“…and that is how you got your name. Beckett Thomas Simms.”

When I turn, she’s wiping her eyes, smiling. Without a word, she disappears to our room.

I stare down at my son.

Everyone says he looks like me, my spitting image, according to my mom.

Most of the time, I agree.

It’s times like now, watching him sleep, knowing he’s protected and loved—I see so much of Willow.

And like his mom…

He’s absolutely fucking perfection.