“What?”
“I said I just wanted to hug her. She was right there and all I wanted to do was—oof!” A body collides with mine from behind, and heat sparks, spreading through me like fire as two arms wrap around my middle, holding me tight.
Jennie moves in front of me, covering my heart with one hand, the other cupping my face. “I wanted to hug you too.” She presses up on her toes and touches her lips to my cheek. “I missed you,” she whispers against my skin, and when she tries to pull back, I clutch her to my chest, burying my face in her hair. She smells the same, like warm vanilla sugar, cinnamon, and coffee, and I’m never letting go.
“Break it up, lovebirds,” Emmett calls. “We’ve gotta be at the arena in fifteen, and we’re twenty minutes away.”
Jennie smiles. “Good luck, big guy.” When she kisses my cheek once more, I know I’ve definitely died and gone to heaven.
We take our home game by two goals, one of them mine, and when we board the plane to San Jose, it’s nearly eleven at night.
An hour in, the plane is quiet and dark, aside from the glow of a few tablets and phones. Most of the team is sleeping, but through all my exhaustion, I’m wide awake.
Jennie’s home early, and I want to be home with her. I want to ask her about her interview. I want to know everything that’s going through her mind. I want to tell her I love her and support her, that I’m going to continue doing so no matter what she chooses.
I have to know. My thumbs have typed out the question over and over, only to delete it. I don’t want to pressure her, and I don’t know how much space she still needs, even if she hugged me like part of her was missing while she was away. Part of me was, anyway.
A light shines from my lap, drawing my attention away from the window, and my heart thuds at the sunshine on my screen.
Sunshine: Wanna play a game?
Me: What’s the game?
Sunshine: Toronto vs. Vancouver
An attachment follows.
Toronto:
Interesting sex shop on Cumberland St. Spent $$$
3 Sweet Jesus ice cream locations. Why did we close our only one?
Vancouver:
Garrett makes the best hot chocolate.
Garrett tickles my back in bed & when we watch movies on the couch.
Dance battles with Garrett.
Slow dancing in the kitchen with Garrett.
Garrett does crafts with me.
Garrett brings me snacks in bed.
Cuddling with Garrett.
Spending an entire shower just kissing Garrett.
Garrett gives the best bear hugs.
Garrett took me on my first date here & promised more.
Garrett knows how to fix dented bumpers （very resourceful）。
Garrett sees my toys as friends, not competition.
Nobody makes me laugh like Garrett.
Garrett is patient & kind & accepts all of me.
Garrett looks at me like I’m the best thing in his world. He’s the best thing in mine.
Garrett.
Garrett.
Garrett.
Sunshine: C’mon, Garrett. Play with me.
CHAPTER 43
SUNSHINE & CHAOS
JENNIE
Have you ever seen a six-foot-four hulk of a man cradle his tiny, newborn baby girl in his arms while singing “You Are My Sunshine?”
“Damnit,” I mutter. “They’re cute.”
“I’m wearing an adult diaper and I tore in places no women should ever tear, all because he has no self-control and couldn’t pull out one fucking time, but I’m so goddamn in love with those two, it’s absolutely unbelievable.” Olivia gazes at Carter and Ireland as they slowly sway together. I swear I see the hint of tears before she scrunches her nose and shakes them away. “He’s so far from perfect, Jennie, but he’s got so much love in his heart. He loves you very much.”
“He has a funny way of showing it sometimes.” I watch as he smiles down at Ireland, then lowers his lips to hers. “He’s the one who taught me how to communicate, how important it was to speak my mind, and then he disappeared on me.”
“I know. You have every right to be upset with him. He made some mistakes, and now he needs to correct them.” She rubs her eyes and sighs. “The night of your interview, Cara and Em were here doing karaoke. He did your song, the one you two always sing together.”
I smile, thinking about the way we trade off so perfectly on our favorite Frozen song, “Love Is an Open Door.”
“He wouldn’t let anyone else sing with him, but he wouldn’t sing your lines either. He was miserable, letting the microphone hang at his side.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why in the world he didn’t just…not do the song.”
Her guess is as good as mine.
Olivia leans into me, laying her head on my shoulder. “Can I be honest with you, Jennie?”
“Always.”
“I’m glad you decided Toronto wasn’t for you. If you decided it was, I would’ve been happy for you but…sad for us. I love you so much, but I really wanted to keep loving you right here. I know it’s selfish of me, but—”
I wrap her in my arms, heart squeezing. “Thank you.”
“I’m so grateful for you, Jennie.” She swipes discreetly at her eyes. “Okay, Carter. Time to let Auntie J have some baby loving.”
“What? But I’m not done! She’s just—” He hugs Ireland to his chest and frowns at Olivia, twisting away when she tries to take their daughter. “You can’t have her!”
“Carter, give me the baby.”
“No.”
“Carter.”
His brows knit so tightly with his scowl, scrunching his forehead. With a huff, he turns toward me. “You have to be careful.”
“I’ve already held her,” I remind him.
“Well, don’t forget.”
“I won’t forget.”
“Sit on the couch. I don’t want you trying to sit down when she’s already in your arms.”
I fight an eye roll and take a seat, reaching for her.
“Ah-ah,” he tsks. “I will put her in your arms.” He bends, then pulls back. “Tuck your necklace in your shirt so she doesn’t try to eat it.”
I tuck my necklace in my shirt in case my forty-eight-hour-old niece tries to eat it.
He leans in, then back again. “And don’t forget to support her head.”
“I will support her head.” I slowly slide my hand between his palm and the back of her head.
“And don’t—”
“For fuck’s sake, Carter, I know how to hold a damn baby!”
“Geez,” he mutters, gently shifting Ireland into my arms. “Someone’s testy.”
“I swear to God I will rip your balls off and you’ll never father another child again. Now shut up, sit down, or get out of my face.”
He sinks down beside me without another word, cowering from my stare like a scared little boy.
The warm bundle in my arms wiggles and coos, and I gaze down at the most perfect face in the entire universe. Big, hazy, gray-blue eyes stare back at me, framed by dark lashes, and hidden inside, barely noticeable, are tiny flecks of green. She’s going to have her daddy’s eyes.
I trace the bow of her little pink pout, the shape of her tiny nose, before laying my hand on her round, rosy cheek. “She’s perfect.”