Quarterback Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)

by Claire Adams

  Liza started laughing. “Glad you’re taking it so well. I don’t think I ever smiled after she vomited on me. Let’s go get changed, honey,” she said, taking Ainsley by the hand and deftly avoiding stepping in the mess.

  Walking into the kitchen, I used a few paper towels to clean off my shoes. Then, grabbing the roll and the trash can, I headed for the living room. I stared down at the mess and realized I would rather wear gloves. Back in the kitchen, I started opening cupboards but didn’t find anything I could use. I headed for the small linen closet in the hall I remembered seeing and struck gold. All the cleaning supplies I could need were right there in front of me.

  I grabbed a few things and headed back out, ready to do battle. I had managed to get most of the puke up and was reading the instructions on the carpet shampooer when Liza came back out.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in surprise.

  I shrugged, “I figured it’s probably my turn to clean up after our daughter.”

  She smiled, and I could see how tired she was. “Wow, thanks. If you got this handled, I’m going to give her a quick bath then, if that’s okay?”

  “Yes, I got this. You take care of her, and I’ll take care of this. Anything special I need to know about this thing?” I asked, gesturing to the machine.

  She gave me a quick rundown, and I felt confident I could do the rest on my own. I got right to work and was very proud of myself for a job well done. That little machine was a miracle worker, and I couldn’t even tell where the stain had been. I made a mental note to get one of these for my house, whenever I found one.

  I put all the cleaning stuff away, took the trash out and had just finished tidying up the living room when Liza came back out. She had showered as well. The thought of her naked in the shower only moments ago sent heat racing through my body. She was wearing a pair of black tights and a long, loose t-shirt that covered her butt.

  “Where’s Ainsley?” I asked.

  “I put her to bed. The hot bath really helped relax her, and some sleep will do her some good,” she said tiredly, heading to the kitchen.

  I picked up the washcloths and towels that were in a pile at the end of the couch and headed towards the washer and dryer I had seen earlier. I started a small load of laundry and headed back into the living room, only to find Liza standing there sipping a glass of wine. She turned and handed me a full glass that she had already poured.

  “Thank you, Milo. Really, you didn’t have to clean up, but I appreciate it,” she said, flopping down on the couch.

  I took the wine and sat at the other end. “I wanted to do it. Look, I want to help, even when it is the gross stuff. I don’t mind. I can make your life a little easier, Liza. I’m here to share in the responsibility of raising a child, even when she blows up like a violent little volcano.”

  She giggled, “Amazing, isn’t it? She’s little, but that child can really puke.”

  “Yeah, she can.”

  “I hope wine is okay. I’m guessing you’re more of a beer guy, but I don’t have any.”

  “Wine is fine. My tastes have become a bit broader and more refined over the years, but I still do love an ice-cold beer,” I grinned.

  She leaned her head back against the couch and took a long deep breath before releasing it. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  “Why?”

  “These stomach bugs tend to last about twenty-four hours. She was fine when I took her to school this morning, so that means we’ve got still have another twelve to fifteen hours or so to go,” she explained.

  “Oh, poor thing. I don’t like seeing her feel so miserable,” I muttered.

  “Me either. It’s sad, but she’s a trooper.”

  “She gets that from me,” I said, with pride.

  Liza guffawed and finished her wine. “I’m going to agree with you there. She also has a stubborn streak a mile wide. I blame you for that. You and that red hair.”

  I laughed, then stood and took her empty glass from her. “Want more?”

  She looked at me carefully, and I thought she would say no, but then she gave a brief nod of her head. “Sure. Thank you.”

  I refilled her glass and delivered it to her. She looked so pretty, all fresh and natural. I wondered how she would take it if I leaned over and kissed her. I didn’t want to press my luck. I had gotten away with the kiss last time only because Ainsley had requested it.

  “Does she get sick a lot?” I asked. “I mean, you seem to be pretty experienced in this area?”

  “Not a lot. This is the second bout with a stomach bug since she started preschool, though. I expected it, but I hope her immune system can fend off whatever else comes her way. This is not my favorite thing about parenting,” she joked.

  “Good. I’m glad she’s healthy. Has she ever been really sick? Broken a bone? Anything serious?”

  I felt like I knew nothing about my little girl, and I wanted to know everything. Four years was a lot of time for things to happen. I wanted to know it all, even mundane things that were in the past. If she fell off a swing or had a friend, I wanted to know.

  Liza took a sip of her wine and looked thoughtful. “No. She’s never been truly ill. She had a few ear infections when she was little, but nothing major. She’s never broken a bone, had stitches or been in the hospital. She’s a healthy little girl. Thank God. I can’t imagine if she weren’t. I don’t think I could handle it.”

  “Me either. I won’t let that happen,” I said as if I had any real control over the situation.

  That drew another laugh from her. “Good luck with that.”

  “You look tired,” I pointed out.

  She nodded her head. “I am.”

  “Go to bed.”

  “I’m fine. I need to stay up in case she gets sick again,” she said, covering her mouth as she yawned.

  “I can listen for her,” I argued.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine,” she protested.

  I sat back and drank my wine, listening to the TV drone on. The lack of conversation wasn’t awkward at all. At some point, I looked over and saw she had fallen asleep. I stood, gently removed the wine glass from her fingers and put both glasses in the kitchen.

  “Liza, come on, it’s time for bed,” I whispered.

  Her eyes fluttered, “What?”

  “You fell asleep on the couch. Ainsley hasn’t made a peep. Come on,” I said, tugging on her arm, “Go on to bed and get some rest.”

  She yawned again. I helped her stand up and escorted her down the hall. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick as well. I remembered where her bedroom was and pushed open the door. She walked to the bed, but I managed to get there first and pull back the blankets. Once she crawled in, I covered her up and kissed her forehead.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, already falling back to sleep.

  “Sure.”

  Leaving her room, I went in to check on Ainsley. She was sound asleep as well. I felt her head with my hand and then did the fingers on her cheeks as Liza had shown me. Ainsley felt about the same temperature as she had earlier. I kissed her on the forehead, tucked the blanket around her and headed out to the living room. After rinsing out the wine glasses and putting away the crackers and juice cup, I decided I was going to sleep over.

  I would be there to help Liza, just in case she ended up coming down with the virus as well. I found a blanket in the linen closet, fluffed up a couple of pillows on the couch and made myself comfortable.

  As I lay there in the darkness, I thought about these two girls down the hall. I liked being there to take care of them if they should they need me. It made me feel useful, needed. It was a new experience. No one had ever needed me in my life. Football didn’t count. This was far more important than winning a game. This is what life was about and, surprising as it was, I realized I wanted every bit of it. I wanted a family. This family?

  Chapter 23

  Liza

  I woke slowly and a little disorientated. I was in my own bed, but I
didn’t remember going there. How much wine did I drink last night? Then everything fell into place, and I remembered. Milo had essentially carried me to bed and tucked me in. I shot out of bed and went into Ainsley’s room to check on her. I had not heard her all night. I would never forgive myself if she had gotten sick and I’d slept through it.

  Opening the door, I saw her still in bed, sound asleep. I walked over to check her temperature and was relieved to find she was cool. No fever. The worst was over. I quietly walked out and closed her door, leaving it open just a little so I could hear.

  I jumped what felt like nearly a foot in the air when I saw Milo spread out on my couch. He was softly snoring—one arm hanging off the couch, the other across his chest. He was huge. Seeing him sprawled out made him look even bigger. His feet were hanging off the end of the armrest. If he was going to be coming over, I was going to need a bigger couch.

  The thought surprised me. I was actually planning on him coming over more often. I checked the time and realized he probably had practice to get to.

  “Milo,” I said softly, not wanting to startle the large man and wake up Ainsley. “Milo,” I said again.

  His eyes popped open, darted around the room and then looked at me. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I said, with a warm smile. “Do you have practice this morning?”

  “Oh shit,” he said, sitting up and looking around the room for a clock.

  “It’s almost nine,” I offered.

  He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m good. I don’t have to be there until eleven. I usually go in early, but I’m not late. I don’t have to go in early. How’s Ainsley?”

  “Good, still sleeping. Did she wake up at all last night?”

  “Nope. I checked on her around three, and she was still sleeping. I checked for a fever a few times and never did feel she was hot.”

  “Thank you. Really. I don’t know why I was so tired last night. I don’t normally do that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I needed to defend my parenting.

  “I know you don’t, which is why you deserved a break and a good night sleep. I hope you got both.”

  “I did. I feel remarkably refreshed. Since you don’t have to run out, can I make you some breakfast?”

  He chuckled. “Like I would say no to that offer. Hell, no man would turn that down, especially a big guy like me.”

  “Good. I’ll get started. Kick back and relax.”

  “I’m going to use the ladies’ room if you don’t mind,” he said, with a wink.

  I watched him walk to the bathroom as if it was something he did every day. It was weird having a man in the house. Not just any man, but the father of my child.

  I turned my focus to breakfast.

  “Hi, Mommy,” Ainsley said.

  I turned to greet her and dropped the spatula I had been holding. Milo was shirtless and carrying Ainsley on his hip.

  “This little munchkin happened to come waltzing in the bathroom. Thankfully she wasn’t a minute later,” he said, giving me a knowing look.

  “Sorry. We’re not used to men in the house.”

  He gave me a smoldering look. “Good to know.”

  I could feel myself blushing and quickly picked up the spatula.

  “Want a drink of some ginger ale?” he asked Ainsley.

  She nodded her head. He walked to the fridge with her on his hip. My heart was thumping so hard in my chest I thought for sure it would be obvious. It seemed so natural. Me and Ainsley in our pajamas and Milo shirtless and barefoot. It was a moment I had imagined many times in my head, but I never thought it would actually happen.

  He spun around, gave me a strange look and walked Ainsley to the table.

  “I’m going to finish in the bathroom, and I’ll be right out, Red,” he said, ruffling her hair.

  “You okay?” he asked me.

  “Yes, okay. Sorry, I was just daydreaming.”

  He nodded and left the kitchen. I managed to catch my breath, knocking back the fantasy of a happy home with the three of us living together. It wasn’t going to happen, and I’d seen the way he had been with the reporters. He was still a playboy at heart, and I would not expose Ainsley or myself to that life.

  When he came back in, his hair was slicked back, and I could smell my shampoo. It smelled very different on him.

  “Have a seat,” I gestured. “It’s almost done.”

  “Come sit with me, Daddy,” Ainsley said.

  “Let me grab a glass of water, and I’ll be right there. Daddy’s got to go play football, which means I need a lot of water,” he explained.

  I loved how he talked to her as if she were an adult.

  “How come you need lots of water?” she asked, genuinely curious.

  He walked to the table and sat down, then explained to her how it kept him from getting sick and cramping. Ainsley was absolutely enthralled and asked him question after question. He answered every one.

  “Breakfast is ready!”

  I dished up eggs, toast, and hashbrowns on plates and delivered them to the table. I brought a bowl of fresh-cut watermelon and asked if he needed any additional condiments.

  “Nope, this looks amazing!” Milo commented, but I could tell he was looking for something.

  “Bacon?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “No, no, it’s fine. This is way too much as it is.”

  I sat down across the table from him. “I should have warned you before you got too excited about breakfast. We don’t really do bacon and sausage. Sometimes I do turkey bacon, but I try to keep it to chicken and fish, mostly fish actually.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh. Any particular reason or is it simply a personal preference?”

  “Personal preference really. I think it’s healthier. I haven’t eaten red meat in years. I figure every advantage I can give Ainsley is a good thing. Lord knows there’s enough junk food in her future.”

  “What about the steakhouse with your dad the other night?” he asked.

  I laughed. “He likes steak. I usually get a chicken or fish dinner. I know he loves steak, which is why I suggested the restaurant. I had hoped to set the tone, but that blew up in my face. Or your face, as it turned out,” I added with a wink.

  He reached up and touched the fading bruise. “Yeah, that’s another matter to discuss.”

  “So, no meat. Don’t you crave a hamburger sometimes? Or juicy steak?” he asked, seemingly stuck on the idea.

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  He shook his head. “I need meat. I definitely need bacon.”

  “I bet I could make you a dinner with no red meat and you would be just as satisfied.”

  His gaze once again transformed from playful to sexy. I realized what I had said and blushed furiously.

  “I know I would be very satisfied.”

  “Mom, how come I only have a little?” Ainsley pouted.

  “Because you had an upset stomach yesterday. Eat your toast and what I gave you. If that stays down, I’ll give you more,” I instructed.

  She grumbled about it, but it wasn’t an argument she was going to win. I did not want to clean eggs off the floor. We finished eating in relative peace.

  “I’ve got to get going. Can I help you clean up?” Milo asked, grabbing his plate and taking it to the sink.

  “No, I’ve got it. You better get going. The last thing you need to do is be late to practice,” I said with a smile. “I would hate for him to blacken your other eye.”

  He chuckled. “You and me both.”

  “Bye, Daddy,” Ainsley piped up from the table.

  I watched as Milo walked back to her, lifted her up and hugged her tight. She giggled and squealed.

  “Too tight!” she was shouting, and furiously trying to squeeze him just as tight. He kissed her on the forehead and then each cheek.

  “Be good for Mommy,” he said. “I’ll call after practice and see how you’re doing. I hope you feel better. No more puking.”

  “If only it were that easy,” I
grumbled.

  He put Ainsley down and walked back to me. I stood there like a deer caught in headlights, waiting to see what he was going to do. I had a very good idea, but I couldn’t be sure.

  His hands went to my waist, and he gently pulled my hips forward, looking into my eyes the whole time. “Thank you for breakfast,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my mouth.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for staying and keeping an eye on us all night.”

  He leaned down and kissed me. My heart was racing. I had to fight back the urge to wrap my body around his. It had been a long time since I had a man in my life. I was horny. I could admit it. For so long, I had turned off that sexual side of me. I focused on work and Ainsley. Milo was making it impossible to do that. When he was around, all I could think about was Milo and the many different ways I wanted to have sex with him.

  My body leaned into his, and my head dropped back. I wanted the kiss to deepen. It was instinct and not intentional.

  “I better go,” he whispered, pulling his lips a fraction of an inch away from mine.

  I nodded, “Yes, you should.”

  He gave me a quick peck and turned to leave. Ainsley was already in the living room, the big TV remote in her hand, handling it like a pro.

  “Bye, Daddy!”

  “Bye, sweetie,” he said and walked out.

  I stood there in the kitchen, trying to catch my breath. What was happening here? Whatever it was, it was moving too fast. He was in our lives. Not just Ainsley’s, but mine as well. Was it a game? Were we trying to have a relationship?

  “Argh!” I groaned loudly.

  “What’s wrong, mommy? Are you sick, too?” Ainsley asked from the living room.

  “No, no. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong,” I lied.

  I got busy cleaning up the kitchen before heading off to take a shower. Ainsley seemed to have recovered fully, which was with Milo living in my house because he didn’t want to leave her.

  He called after practice to check on Ainsley. I promised him she was okay and that it was all over. He sounded very relieved. I was a little bummed there wouldn’t be an excuse to have him come over and hang out. It tended to get lonely spending Saturday nights alone with just a four-year-old for conversation.