“Listen, babe, no one can tell you what to do in this situation, you have to do what you feel in your heart. It seems like you’ve already decided that you have to tell him because it’s what you feel is right. It’s okay to be scared but stay true to who you are. Think about the end game, and what will happen with what you choose.”
“I am scared, Ty. I never expected for things to get so…tangled, and out of hand. I feel like no matter which way I go, I’ll hurt him. Either decision that I choose.”
“Look, I’m not saying that you should commit to anything right at this moment. I’m just saying… think about the future. Think about what you need to do to make the situation right for both of you. I love you, Madds."
Sighing, I flip onto my back and glance at Olive, who’s still babbling on her mat. “I love you, too, Ty. Thanks for the advice. Have a good day at work, we’ll get dinner this weekend, kay?”
“You bet. Give Olive a kiss for me. Love you!”
“Love you.”
We disconnect, and I feel even more confused than before. For the rest of the night, I weigh the options in my head, until there’s a knock at the door, and inevitably, the scales tip in favor of my heart.
When I swing open the front door, Briggs is standing on the other side, wearing a dark charcoal button-down, with a black sport coat and dark slacks. The color of his shirt makes his grey, steely eyes seem even more striking. So much depth, that staring into them, you seem to drown in him.
“Hi,” I whisper, unsure of how to act around him after the other night.
“Hi. I was in the area, so I thought I would drop by with takeout and see my girl.” He holds up the paper bag in his hand with the logo of my favorite Italian place on the side, along with a bottle of my most favorite wine.
My insides immediately turn to mush.
“Ruffino’s?” I exclaim. “Oh god, I haven’t had it since I was pregnant with Olive. How did you know it was my favorite? Oh, come in, sorry, come in.”
He shrugs. “Lucky guess. I’ll play with Olive if you want to sit and have a glass of wine.”
Walking through the front door, he strolls over to the kitchen table, sets the wine and takeout down before squatting down to gather Olive into his arms. There’s something ridiculously sexy about a man in a suit, holding a tiny baby girl. Even sexier when he tickles her belly and tells her how she’s his favorite girl.
“Briggs, I can put her to sleep, really, you went out of your way to come here and bring us dinner.”
“Sit.”
Momentarily, his command takes me by surprise, but then a new feeling blossoms inside. Desire.
One word. That’s all it takes to have me aching.
Daddy Briggs is one thing but… Alpha Daddy Briggs?
Oh god, I never stood a chance.
“You’re exhausted. Drink a glass of wine and relax.”
“Uhm,” murmuring, I clear my throat and avert my gaze. I can still feel his eyes on me as I turn toward the kitchen. “Okay. Thank you.” I walk over to the cabinet where I have the wine glasses, then pull my favorite out. I use the corkscrew to uncork the wine and pour a generous glass, all while listening to Briggs with Olive on the living room floor.
“You’re dressed up, did you have something important tonight?” I ask.
Glancing up, my gaze connects with Briggs’， and he nods, a proud smile spreading his lips. “I coach a youth hockey team, The Mighty Pucks, and tonight, we had our awards banquet.” He reaches into the pocket of his slacks then pulls out his phone and flips it around to show me.
It’s a photo of a group of kids with Briggs, all holding up trophies with lopsided grins. What stands out the most? The smile on Briggs’ face. You can tell how proud he is of them.
“Wow, they look like a great group of kids.”
He slides his phone back into his pocket and nods. “They’re great kids. I… uh, I used to get into a bit of trouble with the team, after the stuff that happened a few years ago.”
His brother.
He didn’t need to say it out loud for me to remember the pain that was etched into his words as he told me what happened.
I simply nod, and bring the wine glass up to my lips, taking a hefty sip. The sweet, tangy liquid tastes like heaven, and helps bite back the feeling of guilt.
"Anyway, I started coaching them because of a requirement from my coach, but honestly… those kids saved me. I owed it to them to stick around. I’ve been telling them about Olive for weeks now.” He glances down at Olive, who’s now fast asleep in his arms, and he smiles. A sweet, smile that’s reserved just for his baby girl.
“That’s really sweet of you, Briggs. To spend your free time coaching.”
I knew this because I reported on it, not that it got as many likes as something more scandalous that he did, but guilt eats at me as he tells me about his night. It makes me feel terrible, and even more afraid to tell him.
I’m being a coward.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, other than here, of course. With both of you.” His gaze meets mine, and his eyes seem to darken slightly. He doesn’t have to say it for me to understand the meaning behind his words.
“Should we talk? About what happened the other night?”
I find it extremely distracting to even think about anything other than Briggs standing in front of me in that tight, fitted button-down. He’s entirely too attractive for his own good. Another reason that I should protect my heart and stay away. I know the kind of man he is, or at least the way that the media portrays him.
“We should, but before we have that conversation, you should know that I meant every single word that I said the other night, and even if you don’t want the same thing, it’s not gonna change anything for me.”
“Can you put Olive down in her crib, then we can talk?”
Briggs nods and continues to rock Olive gently in his arms. I watch as he walks her to our shared bedroom, then his tall frame disappears inside.
I think I’m going to need another glass of wine for this conversation. While he’s putting Olive to bed, I set the table and unbox the takeout, then take a seat and sip on my wine…slowly, until he joins me in the kitchen sans the sports coat, with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up, showcasing the thick, veiny forearms that would make any woman’s mouth water.
“I figured we could eat while we, uh, discuss everything, if that’s okay with you?”
“I’m fine with whatever. I am actually starving; I haven’t eaten since around lunch.”
Gesturing to the food, I sweep my hand across. “Let’s eat.”
Together, we share a meal, and for the first time in a long time, there’s something heavy hanging in the air. I poke at the stuffed meatballs on my plate, gathering courage, then I look up at Briggs.
His jaw is strong and chiseled, much like his sharp cheekbones that hold the piercing steel eyes that catch my own.
“You can’t just… kiss me like that.” I mumble.
“Like what?”
I open my mouth to speak, then close it because this man… he knows exactly like what. “Like… that.”
The corners of his lips turn up into a grin, a smug one at that. “Like… what Maddison?”