Hail Mary (The Mavericks Series)

by Julianna Marley

  Laying Quinn inside her swing, she screamed louder, her face turning red. “I know baby girl. I know.”

  Opening the package before measuring out the liquid, Shay bent down beside her, his large hand resting on Quinn’s small head. “She’s on fire.”

  “I know,” Whitney agreed, placing the syringe inside Quinn’s tiny mouth. “But this will help.” Spitting the medicine and the syringe out immediately and everywhere, Quinn screamed louder refusing to open her mouth again and Whitney grabbed a rag. “She’s never going to take this without a fight.”

  “Here.” Without waiting Shay picked Quinn up in one smooth movement, his navy blue hoodie cradling her. Quinn’s screams quieting a bit, he moved throughout the living room rocking her easily. “You gotta take your medicine, chipmunk,” he said quietly and her cries filtered to small yelps as if trying to answer him. Quinn’s large brown eyes focused on him as usual and he smiled down at her. “So we can get you better.”

  Watching Shay roam around her home talking to Quinn, she felt a piece of her heart explode. His large, long arms embraced Quinn effortlessly as her baby girl curled up into him, her fussiness finally stopping. She couldn’t blame her daughter. She had been curled up inside Shay’s arms before and she knew the feeling. His confidence offered security. His determination offered an ease that all was right. Wrapping her arms around herself, she watched in awe as he stroked Quinn’s cheek methodically, her eyes getting heavy. After a few minutes he reached out his hand, waving for the syringe and she recovered, handing it to him. Slipping it slowly and gently between Quinn’s chubby lips, he dispensed the liquid and Quinn took it with nothing more than a cringe. Winking, he handed the syringe back and her heart dropped into her stomach. She never thought that she would witness the day when Shay Cunningham looked as if he had only been made to hold a baby.

  Slipping his arm out from under Whitney, Shay laid her head back down gently on the couch. She looked exhausted, her full lips parted slightly as he covered her up with a blanket. Walking over to Quinn’s swing, he pressed his hand to her head again. The fever had finally broke after they had taken turns trying to get Quinn comfortable, but she had only relaxed for him. Her long lashes fluttering open, she pouted, her face scrunching before she let out a small cry. “Come on darlin’.”

  Walking down the small hallway into Whitney’s bedroom, he stepped around clothes and boxes filling most of the small space. Grabbing a pink blanket off the back of the rocking chair, he sat down. Man, he was beat up. But more than that, he just wanted Quinn to feel better. Crossing his leg over his knee he pushed back the chair easily as Quinn sucked on her fist, her big brown eyes holding his. She looked so much like her mama it was uncanny. Olive skinned with a big smile and those caramel eyes that reached out and grabbed him by the throat. When he had gotten that text earlier from Whitney, nothing else had mattered and before he knew it he had ransacked the entire pharmacy. That text scared the shit out of him. It had felt like the time he got the call from Cian three years ago when Nicky had broken his arm. Only scarier. Swiping his mouth with his hand, he didn’t want to think about anything happening to Quinn. He knew she was well taken care of, she had the best mother any child could ask for, but the thought of Whitney doing all of this alone wasn’t sitting well with him. So desperate that she had to reach out to him of all people. Although, he was glad that she had called him. That he could be here for her and help her. Help both of them. The day Quinn had been born replayed in his head over a hundred times since he had watched her take her first breath and he felt this innate sense to protect her. It went beyond just making sure she had a place to spend her first holiday and bringing medicine when she was sick. He hated that she didn’t have a man looking over her every day and every night, and yet, selfishly, he was glad that Adam was gone because if he wasn’t then there would be no need for Shay. No place in her life for him.

  Fussing again, he rocked them a little faster, running his finger across her chunky cheek. He wasn’t sure about much with him and Whitney, only that she had him in knots every time he had a chance to spend time with her. To spend time with both of them. When he’d called her after receiving her text earlier promising to be over as soon as he could, she seemed surprised. He wasn’t in a position to start promising things that he couldn’t give to them. There were a lot of opportunities to disappoint and they both had been let down by one man and he wouldn’t let that happen again. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t always be there for her. For both of them.

  Quinn’s loud squeals filled the room and he chuckled. “Shhh, let Mommy sleep.” Humming a few words, she squealed again, smiling up at him. “Oh you like that?” he whispered, amused.

  Well he was no Timberlake, but he could pull off a song or two.

  Shuddering awake, Whitney sat up on the couch. Her eyes barely open, she looked around the room but Shay was gone. And so was Quinn. Stumbling to her feet, the blanket fell at her ankles nearly tripping her before she picked it up, wrapping it around herself. Gosh, she was so tired. Hearing a low humming coming from her bedroom, she walked slowly down the hall, stopping in the doorway, as her heart collided into her chest. Sitting in the chair across the room, Shay sat comfortably rocking Quinn. Her dark hair nearly covering his big arm, every muscle underneath his white t-shirt moved along with him. His mouth twisted into a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked down at Quinn. Resting her head against the doorframe, the small glow of the nightlight illuminated them both as Shay’s drowsy, rough voice filled the room.

  He was an incredible man.

  An incredible family man.

  Both of which he hid from everyone.

  But seeing him with Quinn now, there was no hiding it. No denying how wonderful he was with not only children, but with the people that he cared about. Quinn was wild for him and if she were being honest, so was she. He was overconfident, took what he wanted and had the mouth of a sinner, but he was also generous, determined and the man that put his loved ones ahead of himself. Lifting his head, his eyes met hers across the room and they watched each other a moment. Wrapping the blanket around herself tighter, she smiled quietly. “Is that the Mavericks chant?”

  Nodding his head slowly, he closed his eyes. He looked so tired and she felt so guilty. He had played such a hard game this afternoon, all before dealing with the media and finally leaving the stadium. Instead of resting his right arm that she noticed he had been favoring since the fourth quarter, he was here. With her. Rocking her sick baby girl so that she would be comfortable. “It’s the only song I know that doesn’t have any cuss words,” he smirked mocking her accent and she smiled again.

  “I’m sorry, Shay. You must be so tired-”

  “Shhh.” He set her with a look continuing to push him and Quinn in the chair.

  Oh, right. The apology thing. He didn’t like it when she apologized, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been here tonight. Quinn had never had a fever, that whole new mama thing still pushing her over the lines of concern into full blown anxiety. But he was here. Had barreled through her door and hadn’t left. Watching him with Quinn, her heart cramped. This man. This beautiful, fiercely strong-minded man with a heart of gold buried beneath a lifetime of guilt was no longer just slipping into her life and into her heart, but when she hadn’t been looking, he’d just barged in and made himself comfortable and right at home.

  Straining against the cramp in his neck, Shay stretched out. His muscles were tight and they hurt like hell. Rubbing his lower back, he leaned across the bed peeking on Quinn fast asleep inside her crib. Resting back down, he wrapped his arm around Whitney, the black ink of his tattoo standing out against the ruffled, girly ass comforter he had slept in all night. Suppressing a yawn into the pillow, he brought her closer into him, her ass resting against him. Burying his face into her messy hair, he felt her relax back into him and he wished he could just stay in this spot all damn day. And night.

/>   Trailing his fingers against her hip, he realized he’d never woken up like this. All the women he’d ever shared a bed with had always left before he decided to get up and now, he couldn’t imagine moving a muscle. Sliding his fingers under her shirt, he palmed her smooth stomach. Trying to move his hand with her own, he swatted it away hearing her giggle into the covers. Why she was so self-conscious around him, he would never understand. She felt like a damn fantasy and remembering just what this body had been capable of when he watched her bring Quinn into the world made him appreciate every soft curve even more. Moving his hands, he gripped the inside of her thigh. Opening for him faintly she turned over looking up at him, her eyes bright and round despite the dark circles framing them from exhaustion.

  And she took his breath away.

  Sweeping his fingers inside of her panties, he watched her eyes flutter shut again. Working his finger and thumb, he kissed across her jaw before making love to her neck. Threading her hands through his hair, he deepened his kiss before moving beneath the comforter. Placing his lips against her stomach, he cherished each rise and fall from her jagged breaths. Finding exactly where he wanted to be, he rested between her legs, feeling her lift the blankets to cover her mouth. Good, she was going to need it.

  Feeling her body arch against his mouth, he took his time. He’d been wrong. He wished he could stay in this spot all day long. Her loud screams masked, she finally surrendered and he couldn’t help but smile against her. Watching her body relax, he took his time kissing back up her body feeling it shake gently beneath his lips. Hard as a rock, he rested on top of her looking down at her, a big smile on her beautiful face. She was heart-stopping and in this moment, she was all his. Not wasting a second, she pushed him onto his back nearly climbing up his body. Her mouth on him, her lips teased his skin and his body already felt like it was on fire. Sliding her soft hands beneath his shirt, she rocked gently against him as she traveled those lips down his chin and he held onto her ass. Using her tongue she licked down his stomach, gently and painfully slow.

  Yes.

  Shit, she felt so good. Balling the sheets on either side of him, he felt her fingers curl around his pants.

  Yes.

  A small whimper filling the room, her fingers stopped.

  What the hell?

  Her mouth pausing against his groin, Quinn whimpered again before belting out into an ear piercing cry.

  No way.

  Sighing, Whitney dropped her head against his stomach, his lower body now burning. “I’m sorry Shay.”

  Pouring more batter into the skillet, Whitney glanced over her shoulder as Shay sat on the high stool pretending to have a fighting match with Quinn’s fists. Luckily, her fever had gone down but she was still anxious to get her to the doctor to be checked out as soon as possible. Shay had been wonderful last night. More than wonderful, actually, he had relaxed her, providing both her and Quinn some quiet comfort. She didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t been there. And that scared her. The things she was feeling for Shay seemed uncontrollable lately as she looked over at Quinn giggling again. Flipping the pancake, Charlotte walked into the kitchen, her short hair spiked up straight, last night’s eye makeup now hanging under her eyes.

  “Woah,” Shay laughed, looking at her before making a face at Quinn.

  “Screw you,” Charlotte barked, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. She looked hungover, but Whitney knew well enough that she had been up all night sewing.

  “Mornin’,” Whitney said carefully, placing more pancakes on the plate. Years and years of nearly getting her head chewed off first thing in morning had taught her to proceed with caution before Charlotte had her coffee. Either that or just run in the other direction. “How was your night?”

  Slipping the K-cup into the machine Charlotte just stared at it. “Long.”

  She knew she was overwhelmed and definitely tired, but Charlotte just didn’t seem happy. She was living out her dream and she walked around absolutely miserable in spite of it. And that concerned her. Placing the pancakes onto the breakfast bar, she slid them to Shay and his eyes lit up. Giggling, she took Quinn from his arms and handed him a plate. It was the least she could do. Sliding onto the stool beside Shay, Charlotte wrapped her hands around her mug and stared off at nothing. Yes, something was definitely up with her but now was not the time to dive into that. She was against the clock to get Quinn to the doctor and she preferred to have this conversation when Shay wasn’t around. Turning her head slowly, Charlotte stared blankly at Shay, blinking. “Why are you here?”

  Biting the inside of her lip, Whitney shook her head grabbing Quinn’s cereal and a small bowl. “Baby girl had a really high fever last night and I needed medicine.” Her head whipping up, Charlotte looked between her and Quinn. “She’s fine,” Whitney assured, brushing Quinn’s dark hair out of her face. “Shay saved the night.”

  Shoving another pancake into his mouth, Shay lifted his brow as Charlotte stared back at him again. A grin spreading across that agonizingly gorgeous face, he pointed the fork to himself. “Saved the night,” he mocked and she laughed quietly stirring Quinn’s breakfast.

  He was adorable. And cocky. Gosh, was that man cocky.

  “I didn’t hear you come in. I thought maybe you stayed at Myles’s.” Whitney clenched Quinn closer to her as she wiggled. Without a word, Charlotte sipped her coffee again, shaking her head. Looking at Shay across the kitchen, he acknowledged the odd behavior. Yes. Something was definitely up. Washing off his dish, Whitney watched Shay move around her kitchen with such comfortable ease. His tight white t-shirt left little to the imagination as the tattoo between his shoulders surfaced through the thin material. Those grey sweats she was coming to adore hung off his tight, forceful hips. They did her in every time. Bending over again, she swallowed a sigh as he closed the dishwasher door. She knew he really had no idea what he did to her. How he affected her. Reaching for Quinn, he took her and her cereal bowl. “Go eat something.”

  Without a word he slid Quinn into her high chair before trying to configure how to properly wrap the bib around her neck. Looking over at Charlotte staring into space, she busied herself again taking the grits off the stove. Pouring some into a bowl in an attempt to get Charlotte to eat something, a light knock hit the door, and her heart jumped. Pausing mid-airplane with the spoon, Shay looked up at her. She really needed to stop this. Needed to stop thinking that every time somebody knocked on the door that it was Adam coming back to take Quinn. It wasn’t healthy. And it had been months. He was not coming back and she wouldn’t let him anywhere near Quinn anyways. Sliding off the stool, Charlotte shuffled to the door, her sweatpants sweeping the floor. Opening the door, Charlotte groaned letting her head fall back and she held her breath regardless. Opening the door wider, Charlotte leaned against the green door. “The wicked witch of the south has landed.”

  “Mama?”

  Seeing Whitney’s eyes go wide, Shay pushed some white goop into Quinn’s mouth catching Charlotte roll her eyes. A petite woman in black sunglasses large enough to cover her entire face breezed through the door as he wiped his hands now covered in cereal with a napkin. Immaculately put together in a short dress and white gloves, she stood between the living room and kitchen inspecting the space. “Hello, dear.”

  White gloves? People still wear those?

  “What,” Whitney breathed, pulling at the bottom of her shirt, her smile disappearing. “What are you doin’ here?”

  The woman didn’t seem to resemble Whitney much. She was too tiny and her hair was short, much like Charlotte’s. But slowly removing her sunglasses, he saw a pair coffee colored eyes that looked familiar. The same ones he had woken up to this morning and the same pair that was looking at him now to continue feeding her breakfast. “Well darlin’, you refuse to take my phone calls, so what was I to do?”

  Blowing bubbles before squealing, Quinn spit cereal all over his arm again and he watched Charlotte close the door, mocking the woman beh
ind her back. He didn’t know much about Whitney’s family, but it didn’t seem her mother had much of a welcoming committee.

  “Mama, I haven’t been avoidin-”

  “-Save your words, dear,” her mama waved her off. Scrunching her nose, she looked around the condo. Well it wasn’t the cleanest this morning, but after the night they had all had, it wasn’t awful either. “I came to see how you and ma’ grandbaby were, but I can see that you’re,” she paused inspecting Whitney up and down, “getting by.”

  Who the hell did this woman think she was? Walking in here and insulting Whitney in her own home. And he had a bone to pick with this woman too. He distinctly remembered waiting on her to show up at the hospital when Whitney had given birth. But she hadn’t.

  “Charlotte,” her mother said, placing her purse down on the side of the sofa, a look of disgust on her small face as if she was tiptoeing inside some abandoned shack. “You’re looking as tasteful as ever.”

  “Oh, coming from you Aunt Lil, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Charlotte squinted, taking another sip of coffee.

  Wiping Quinn’s mouth, Shay lifted her from her seat before handing her to Whitney. Taking Quinn quickly, she shook her head completely frazzled. Why was she so on edge? He didn’t like it.

  Standing there he held up a hand. “Hi,” he nodded, extending his hand as she looked down at it as if it were about to hurt her. “I’m Shay.” Following his arm, she looked him over, clearly not liking what she saw. But unlike Whitney, he didn’t give a rat’s ass what she thought of him. He already didn’t like her. But his mama had raised him to be polite and so polite he would be. Unless she gave him a reason not to be that is.