The Renegades’ front office threw a joint baby shower for Ainsley and Hadley. Ainsley was so starstruck that she fumbled through opening her presents and was more interested in seeing what Hadley was getting. Unlike us, Ryan and Hadley don’t know what they’re having. They decided to wait until the baby’s birth and be surprised.
For me, I’m happy that we know, especially since we’re having twins. Planning for one baby is hard enough, but when you’re planning for two, you need all the help you can get. The twins are stocked up on winter wear, diapers, bottles, and those damn sucky things that that look like odd-shaped nipples.
Buying everything in double was easy. The hard part was buying their clothes. Every outfit I wanted was something to do with the Renegades, but Ainsley put her foot down, saying the kids needed to be able to branch out with other teams. I told her as long as it’s New England football, basketball, hockey, and baseball, we’re okay. The last thing I want is to be ribbed by fans because my kids are wearing some other baseball team, although the twins have received numerous outfits and blankets from my peers all with their team’s logos. I reminded them that their time will come when I thanked them.
Ainsley moans and places her hand on her side.
“That’s it. I’m putting my foot down. You’re not traveling. Stella can do it.”
“But…” She can’t even finish her sentence as one of the twins kicks again. They’re still growing, and she’s stretched as far as the eye can see. I’m afraid she’s going to burst open like a water balloon.
“Babe, did you just pee your pants?” I lean back and find her pants drenched, as well as mine because of the way we were sitting.
“No, but I think my water just broke.”
My eyes pop open as I let the words seep in. Lamaze class was pure torture. I hated going, but went anyway because it was important to Ainsley. The breathing technique is weird, and I question whether moms are actually able to use it. I didn’t find it calming but on the verge of hyperventilation. I suppose it didn’t help matters that I brought Travis Kidd with me one time. We had been out golfing on a day off when Ainsley reminded me that we had a class. I didn’t have time to take him home, and I wasn’t about to let him drive my car, so I made him go.
That was the biggest mistake of my life, although the women got a good laugh out of it. The instructor made him participate, and the sight of Kidd on the floor with his legs spread open, mimicking the breathing technique, was fucking hilarious. What I didn’t count on was Kidd taking our adventure back to the clubhouse and using me as his partner while he demonstrated to the guys.
“I think I’m in labor,” Ainsley says, stating the obvious.
I try not to laugh, but a chuckle escapes me. “Yeah, babe. I think you are.” I kiss her quickly and shuck off my clothes, walking bare-ass naked into the closet to change.
“Asshole,” she mutters.
“What’s that?” I laugh.
“Six weeks,” she says, reminding me it’ll be six weeks after the birth before we can have sex. “You’ll be begging me.”
I bring her a set of new clothes and help her stand. “Ah, babe, you forget that we can still play, I just can’t penetrate.”
Ainsley slaps me but does so with a smile. Once she’s changed, I call Daisy, Stella, and Wes while Ainsley cleans up, letting them know that we’re on our way to the hospital. All three of them tell me their on they’re way, with Stella already promising she’ll be on the next flight out. My next call is to my agent, asking him to postpone the closing until later this week or see what he can do about getting down to Florida to sign the papers on Ainsley’s behalf.
“Are you having contractions?” I help her into the car, making sure she’s secure before I put the bags into the backseat.
“A little,” she says, rubbing her side again.
“I’m supposed to remind you to breathe.” I can’t say it with a straight face. She knows how I feel about those classes.
“Shut up and drive, Twenty-Five.”
It only takes a few minutes for us to get to the hospital. We pull into the valet and I toss my keys to the attendant while another one helps her out of the car and into a wheelchair.
“You’re my favorite player,” the man says. I thank him and promise to come back later and give him an autograph. It’s my automatic response. Shockingly, the man shakes my hand and tells me not to worry about it.
If Ainsley weren’t pregnant, I’d love to push her down the hall in this chair and see how fast we can go, but the inner child in me has to refrain. I have no doubt she’d kill me once she pops these babies out. At check-in, we’re taken to a room. The wallpaper is hideous with huge pink, brown, and white flowers.
“This is supposed to be calming,” I tell her as I help her change and get into the bed. “I think we should change our walls to this.”
“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Travis, and I may have to ban him from coming over to our house.”
“You love Kidd, admit it.”
Before she can answer, she’s clutching her abdomen and scaring the shit out of me. “Babe,” I say, trying to help her find a comfortable position.
“Oh God, Cooper, it hurts.”
“Breathe, okay.”
“Fuck breathing, get me drugs.”
I’m torn between leaving her side and going to do what she asks. The nurse walks in just in the nick of time, saving me from having to leave her.
“Hi, Ainsley. How are you feeling?”
“She’s in pain,” I answer for her because she’s currently gritting her teeth.
“That’s to be expected. When did the contractions start?”
“She had a few minor ones on the way over, but she only mentioned pain as soon as she got into the bed.”
“Let’s take a look.” The nurse helps Ainsley put her legs in the stirrups and disappears between her legs. When Ainsley cries out, I want to punch the nurse in the face for hurting her.
Without saying anything, the nurse stands, removes her gloves, and presses a button on the wall. Two more nurses come in and start hooking Ainsley up to various machines, pushing me out of the way.
“What’s going on?”
“Your wife is about to deliver.”
“Hold up,” I say, putting my hands up. “The Lamaze chick told us that first time pregnancies could take hours.”
“Everyone is different, Mr. Bailey.”
Ainsley reaches for my hand, and I go to her, placing my head on her shoulder. “I hate you,” she growls.
“I know, babe. I hate me too right now.” I was prepared for her to say mean things to me. Bainbridge told me to brush them off and to just agree with her. Once the euphoria of childbirth kicks in, she’ll be telling me how much she loves me because I helped create the two most precious people in her life.
“I need drugs,” she yells out, but the nurse tells her it’s too late. She disappears between her legs again and tells Ainsley to push. I remember from class that I need to help her sit up so she can bear down. When I asked Bainbridge what that meant, he said it’s like taking a shit.
“Sorry, sweetie, but the baby is coming now.”
“Babies,” I remind her. “She’s carrying twins.”
“Yes, Mr. Bailey,” she says, dismissing me. “You have another contraction coming, Ainsley. Let’s push through it.”
“What’s this ‘let’s’ shit, I’m the one pushing,” she says as she starts grunting. I have to agree with her on that one. I have to give the nurse kudos for not engaging Ainsley in a tit-for-tat. I’m sure she sees a lot of it with her job.
“I hear we’re about to have some babies today.” Dr. Chen walks in wearing blue scrubs and a pink hat. I find it funny that he’s color coordinating with the birth of our children. Right after him, a baby cradle on wheels is brought in.
“Has everyone forgotten that my wife is having twins?” I yell out, growing frustrated with the staff.
“No, Mr. Bailey. We try
to keep the twins together. They’ve spent all their time next to each other, so it would be unfair to separate them now.”
“Oh,” I say, hanging my head in shame. The squeezing of my hand brings my attention back to Ainsley.
“We need a big push, Ainsley,” Dr. Chen says as he takes over for the nurse.
“It’s hurts,” she screams out. “It’s burning so bad.”
“I know, but once the head is out, you’ll feel some relief. You’re almost there.”
I chance a look between her legs and about lose my shit. Not only is it the grossest thing I’ve every seen, but a man should never see what is happening to his wife’s cooter.
“Okay, the head is out.”
I look again against my better judgment and see a face with puffy cheeks and dark hair. The doctor works to clear the baby’s airway before telling Ainsley to push again.
“Holy shit.”
With another push my son is born, and he’s letting the world know that he’s arrived.
“Baby number one is a boy,” the doctor says, placing him on Ainsley’s belly. She starts crying, and I join in. The nurse hands me scissors and shows me where to cut his cord.
“Look at him,” Ainsley wails as her hand touches every part of him. I know she’s counting his fingers and toes, making sure they’re all there. For the past few weeks, she’s been having nightmares that limbs are missing, and every reassurance I’ve given her that the babies are perfect have fallen on deaf ears.
“He’s perfect,” I tell her. “Look what you did, babe.”
“We did this,” she coos, running her finger over his cheek.
“I did the fun part. You nurtured and brought him into this world.” I make sure to give her all the credit because I really didn’t do anything. Sure, I catered to her every need, made sure she was always comfortable, and loved her with all my being, but she’s the one who carried him and his sister.
“Ainsley, your little girl is on her way.”
We were so sidetracked with our son that she didn’t even notice her contractions. The nurse takes the baby so Ainsley can focus on delivering our daughter. This time I watch, stretching myself so that I’m still holding her hand but watching her give birth to the only other female that will make me weak in my knees.
With a big push, her head is out, and the process of clearing her mouth is done.
“Push, Ainsley.”
And she does, freeing our daughter. The smallest of wails is echoed through the room, followed by her brother’s booming cry.
The nurse sets her on Ainsley, and again the tears are flowing, and our daughter is getting a good once-over from her mother.
“She’s gorgeous. Thank you, Ainsley.” I kiss my wife deeply in front of the staff, not caring at all. Ainsley needs to know how much I love her and how perfect she’s made my life.
The nurse takes our daughter while the doctor finishes up with Ainsley. In a flash, her gown is changed, her bed rearranged, and bags of ice are being added between her legs.
“We’re going to give you something for the pain. It won’t hurt the babies when you nurse. If you experience too much discomfort, let me know, and in about an hour, we’re going to get up and walk and see if you can use the restroom.”
I look at the nurse and then back to Ainsley. “They expect you to walk in an hour. I’d be down for the count after this.”
“That’s because you’re a man.”
I want to remind her that I’m strong, but the truth is I’m nowhere near as strong as she is.
The babies are brought to us, wrapped in blankets, one with a pink hat, the other with a blue. Both are put into Ainsley’s arms, leaving me feeling a little left out. I get as close as I can to them, and watch in awe as she talks to the babies.
“I’m in love,” she says, meeting my gaze.
“Me too,” I tell her. “I didn’t think I could love you anymore than I did, but I do. The twins are icing on the cake, Ainsley. I can’t thank you enough for making me a father.” I lean forward and kiss her, smiling against her lips as the babies coo.
“They need names.”
Names are the one thing we didn’t discuss, opting to meet them first. I look at my son and daughter, eager to hold them, but knowing that Ainsley needs to bond with them, too, and I try to picture what will be perfect for them.
“Cal,” I say, looking at my son.
“Cal?” she questions. I nod and wipe away a tear.
“He gave me a shot when I did everything I could to blow it.”
“I like Cal,” she says. “Cal Bailey is going to make a great baseball name.”
“And now for our princess?” I run the tip of my finger over her cheek and laugh when she gives me her best Elvis impersonation.
“Janie.”
“After your mom?”
She nods and tears start streaming down her face. “Yeah, she’d like that.”
“Janie Bailey has a funny sound to it, but I like it. I like that her name will rhyme.”
* * *
It’s later in the day when people start to arrive to visit, with Wes being the first. When he steps into the room, Ainsley is sleeping, and he finds me in the rocking chair with two babies on my chest.
“Hey, guys, your grandpa is here,” I quietly whisper to them.
He beams when sees their faces.
“Wes, allow me to introduce you to Cal Wilson Bailey and Janie Corinne Bailey.”
I’ve never seen a tough and rugged man like Wes Wilson cry until today. Once Ainsley and I decided on first names, the middle ones came easily. Cal got his grandfather’s last name while Janie got my mother’s first name. It was the easiest way for us to pay homage to our families.
Once Wes arrived, the visitors started flooding in, with Stella arriving just before visiting hours were over. The minute she saw Ainsley she was a mess, but it turned disastrous when she met the twins. I tried to warn Cal and Janie about their emotional aunt Stella, but I don’t think they were listening. Needless to say, the minute Stella held the twins, I think they knew how important they are to her.
After everyone has gone, I crawl into bed with my wife and our babies, wrapping my arms around my family. Ainsley rests her head in the crook of my neck while Cal and Janie sleep on her chest.
“Life can’t get any more perfect.”
Even though I agree with her, I can’t help but say, “Well, the Renegades could win the pennant!”
The family at the BoRe Blogger would like to congratulate general manager Ryan Stone and his wife, Hadley Carter, on the birth of their son. No name has been released as of yet.
We also want to congratulate center fielder Cooper Bailey and his wife, Ainsley, on the birth of their twins, Cal and Janie.
The three newest members of the BoRe family were born on the same day, same hospital, and one room away.
Ethan and Daisy Davenport report that all three babies are perfect, healthy, and the moms are doing fantastic!
Welcome to the family!
The BoRe Blogger
Acknowledgments
To my editor, Alex, I say thank you. I think I’ve experienced every emotion while editing but can honestly say that I’ll be a stronger writer because of you. Thank you for taking a chance on me and my love for baseball. I can’t wait to work with you again.
To my agent, Marisa, I can never thank you enough for this opportunity. Working with you has been life changing, and I am forever grateful.
To my usual crew, as always, thank you for everything that you do to help bring each idea to life. Yvette, Amy, Georgette, Tammy—you guys put up with a lot of harebrained ideas, and I appreciate it. Audrey, Tammy, Sonja, Amber, Rebecca, Jamie, Jackie, Jill, Kristen, Amanda, and Veronica—you guys work so hard to make sure everyone knows about my stories. Thank you.
To the countless fans, readers, and bloggers, thank you for spending countless hours with our creations.
To my family—as always, I appreciate everything you do.
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About the Author
Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Originally from Portland, Oregon, and raised in the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup, and a highland Westie/mini schnauzer, JiLL.
When she isn’t writing one of the many stories planned for release, you’ll find her sitting courtside during either daughter’s basketball games.
Also by Heidi McLaughlin
Third Base
Please turn the page for a preview of the next book in Heidi McLaughlin’s Boys of Summer series.
Grand Slam
Coming in Spring 2017
The one I’m eyeing for the night bends at her waist and lines her pool stick up with the cue ball. She slowly pulls the wooden rod through her fingers until the felt top finally connects. The hard white plastic ball rolls toward her target, hitting it perfectly and stalling as the blue-striped ball rolls into the pocket. I let out a massive sigh and lean on my stick, waiting my turn. I should’ve known better when she approached me, asking if I wanted to play a game or two of billiards with her. I know better than to let a good-looking woman hustle me out of money, but I wasn’t thinking with my right head. I never am, and once again I’m getting my balls get busted, no pun intended, by a pool shark.
“Sweetheart, are you going to let me play? My balls are getting lonely.” If she thinks I’m crude, she doesn’t say anything. In fact, she looks at me from over her shoulder and winks before shimmying her ass toward my crotch. My internal groan is epic. I’ve been watching her bend, lick her lips, show me her ample cleavage, and shake her ass for almost an hour. Not to mention that she brushes against me each time she passes me. And the touching isn’t subtle. I can read her loud and clear, all the way from her tight-as-sin jeans to her plunging neckline.
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