Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,29

must be the most self-absorbed monster in the world.”

I reined her back to a kitchen stool and offered a bottle of water. “You’re not a monster. You’re perfectly normal.”

“Oh, please.” Rory chugged the water. “I know it’s just hormones. I can tell you exactly the type and what their function is and why my body is producing them. But it just doesn’t help when I know I’m being crazy and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Name of the game, Doc. But you’re doing everything you’re supposed to be doing.”

“Yeah.” She sipped the water. “I’m so used to freaking out alone. It’s…nice to have you here.”

Uh-oh. I expected a smile. I got the water-works. “I’m glad to help.”

Her voice trembled. “God, Jude. You’re so…so…”

Utterly confused?

I welcomed her into my arms because I had no idea how else to comfort her. A pregnant woman could switch from hungry to sad to homicidal to exhausted just by flipping through the trending shows on Netflix.

Make her a sandwich for lunch? She’d rage about chunky peanut butter. Stick a bow on the dog? She’d burst into uncontrollable tears imagining how she’d dress up the baby.

It’d been a week of living together. I was already battle scarred. We had another five months to go. I’d need a bullet-proof vest, some chocolate, and a lot of warm baths—either to soothe her or to hide in with Phillip.

“You’ve been so sweet.” Her voice muffled in my shoulder. “First you take me into your home, then you play this crazy game with a fake relationship, and now you give me lunch money…”

The tears started again. Happy ones this time. We were making progress.

“Now you’re giving me a ride to practice,” she said.

I rubbed a tear from her cheek. She finally smiled, and the pressure on my chest eased.

If only that weight hadn’t gone right to my cock.

What the hell was wrong with me? I was trying to comfort this woman, a friend who needed help. And I couldn’t get our kiss out of my head. The one memory that might have been good to forget haunted me in forbidden and selfish pleasure.

I was a gentleman. An honest man.

But if I didn’t control myself, I wouldn’t be able to strap a cup on for practice.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’re already pretending to have a baby together. It’s time to take the next step—carpooling.”

Rory checked the time. The mood swing shattered, and she dragged me out the door. “Oh, no! We’re going to be late!”

We raced to the garage. Fortunately, I hadn’t put the doors or windows on the Rubicon, and we hopped right into the Jeep. Rory needed a minute after the vigorous exercise, but she waved for me to drive.

“I’ll lean out if I get sick.” She pointed. “Go, go, go.”

Good thing I had an expert navigator in my passenger seat. I wasn’t used to Ironfield, but Rory knew a shortcut that got us to the practice facility just in time to arrive with the team. We’d scheduled a public kiss, and our PDA quota for the day was met before we left the parking lot.

Rory could check it off of the chart.

I knew she was dedicated, but she had made a spreadsheet—in her spare time—to guarantee our appearances. She wanted to give the Rivets empirical evidence that we were a real couple.

I didn’t argue. At least it got me a kiss, though as soon as I stepped onto the field, my focus switched to the game.

After eleven seasons in the league, I knew how training camp worked. Conditioning in the hot sun day after day was taxing, but I was eager to prepare for our first exhibition game. This was the football I liked. Men on the field. Fans cheering from the stands. Players who ignored the heat and sweat and injuries to line up for one more drill.

I made certain I was the first on the field and the last one off. It helped me to become the player I was. Yes, I was old. At the end of my career. But I understood the game better than anyone. Read the defenses. Saw the schemes. Knew where and when to block and juke. Age had destroyed my knees, but it honed my instincts, and I was going to use them to win.

When this season ended and my locker was cleared for good, I’d take home the final piece of my career.

A championship ring.

And we were working hard to get it.

Jack lined up the offense, keeping