Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,272

wiggled around Cole’s feet and reached for him, as high as her little fingers could go.

Cole plucked her from the ground and settled her along his hip.

Her smile killed me. She’d never looked at her father like that, not when Jasper came to pick her up and certainly not when the asshole dropped her off.

I hadn’t wanted to get involved with Cole, but I couldn’t deny how much he meant to me. It had been easier to keep my distance and protect my heart before Rose started looking at him so sweetly. She trusted him.

Maybe I could have ignored my feelings if he hadn’t looked at her in the same way.

“Up!” Rose tugged on his shirt. “Up!”

“You are up,” Cole said. “You can’t get anymore up.”

She wiggled her head and shoulders. “Up!”

“Oh.” Cole watched her wiggle and twisted the earbuds coiled around his neck. “You want to dance.”

Rose nodded, her little puff ball pigtails bouncing with her. “Dance!”

“All right. But don’t tell anyone. I got a reputation to maintain.”

Cole thumbed through his playlists. Most of the tracks were just static—the white noise he used to focus and stay calm. He scanned to a special playlist and flashed the image to her. She giggled and recognized the Disney songs.

I watched as that monster of a man shimmied and bounced a little girl to the beat—their own perfect waltz. She giggled as he dipped her, but she yawned the instant he pulled her back to his chest. Rose snuggled close as he rocked her.

Cole gave me a sheepish shrug, but I tapped my finger against my lips. Rose rested with her head against his shoulder and sighed.

I had no idea how this man could so easily put my toddler to bed, but I wished he’d teach me his secrets.

She conked out pretty quickly. Cole rubbed his hand over her back. The gold glitter from her dress flaked everywhere, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Did you talk to the team?” His voice was low.

I nodded.

“What’d they say?”

I shook my head. He understood.

He said nothing else, but he danced with Rose until the song was over, holding the baby tight against him. He settled her in the crib before I could get the gold dress off of her. That was fine. She could sleep like a princess tonight. He made sure Mr. Bumpybottom was tucked next to her in the crib.

“Cole—”

He took my hand. “Not yet.”

“But we have to talk.”

He pulled me from the room, pausing only to let me turn off the light and pocket the baby monitor. I followed him to the kitchen. He sat at the counter, and I offered to get him a drink from the baby-proofed fridge.

“Water?” I asked.

“You tell me what I need, beautiful.”

I gave him a bottle of beer instead.

“That bad?”

“You know what we have to do, Cole.”

He didn’t answer.

“All you have to do is agree,” I said. “Agree, and at 12:01 you’ll become an Ironfield Rivet. Everything has been arranged—a place for you to stay and a rented car for the week. You’re still suspended for another two games, but they can give you the playbook. They’ll let you watch some films and start training.”

“If I don’t agree to the trade?”

He knew the answer to that. Why would he make me say it?

“Then you’ll be cut, and no other team will sign you from the waivers. You might get some interest next year, but getting released is a bad sign to the league. It’d prove to them that you are a liability and trouble and a risk to every organization. The trade is your best option.”

“No. It’s my only option.”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe I’m done.”

I knew he’d think it, fear it. I forced him to look at me, really look at me. In the eyes, in the soul, in the heart, exactly the way he’d refused in the past.

“Cole, you are an amazing athlete. You can’t give this up.”

“You know what Ironfield will want from me, how they’ll expect me to play.”

“But you’ll still be playing. And they can protect you from the league. No more bogus calls. No harsh scrutiny.”

Cole didn’t bother drinking his beer. He pushed it away and paced through the kitchen. “They’ll sign me only because they think I’m a monster. They’ll want me to hurt my opponents.”

“You don’t have to play that way.”

“I won’t have a choice.” His words rushed, still harsh, but a thread of helpless panic and rage wove within his voice. “They’ll expect it. They’ll encourage it. They’ll set their