Incredible You

by Lili Valente

  I smile. “Me either.”

  “So you understand?” she asks softly. “Why I didn’t tell you?”

  “Of course.” The ache in my chest, which has been my constant companion over the past two weeks, fades as warmth spreads through my body. “A baby, huh?”

  She nods, a tentative smile curving her lips. “Yeah. My first doctor’s appointment is on Monday. We should be able to see the heartbeat if, you know… If you want to come with me.”

  An outraged sound—somewhere between a scoff and a growl—bursts from my lips as I reach out, pulling her close. “If I want to come with you? Are you crazy, woman?”

  Her smile finds its legs, stretching wide across her beautiful face. “Maybe a little. I’m already positive it’s a girl, and I want to name her Cersei.”

  “That’s a nice name.” I hug her tighter, getting thicker as her curves press against me and the knowledge that she’s carrying my baby thoroughly sinks in.

  “It’s from Game of Thrones. She’s a merciless, murderous bitch.”

  I tip my forehead closer to hers. “Good. Let’s call her Cersei Medusa Salome, a nice scary name to keep all the boys away.”

  She laughs, her breath warm against my lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I say, my heart so full I’m not sure it’s possible to be any happier.

  “But all kidding aside, we don’t have to make any big decisions now. About names, or anything else. We have time to think and plan and see how we want to do this.”

  “Do what?” I ask. “Be a family?”

  Her lips press together, and her eyes begin to shine. “You want to be a family? Really?”

  “Of course I do.” I kiss her cool cheek, wishing we were already back at my place so I could kiss her everywhere else. “I’m crazy in love with you, Shane Willoughby, and I can’t wait to meet our baby. Sure, I wasn’t expecting to get the whole package—smoking hot, sexy wife and sweet little girl—so soon… But people are always telling me I’m a lucky bastard.”

  “I’m a lucky bastard,” she says with a laugh and a sniff. “I can’t believe you’re really mine.”

  “Not yet, I’m not.” I wipe a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “You’ve got to put a ring on it, princess. I want a winter wedding, and you, naked under the tree on Christmas morning.”

  “Done,” she whispers. Then she kisses me, and it is sweet and sexy and everything I’ll ever need. This woman is my home, my heart, and I can’t wait to promise her every day of the rest of my life.

  “Let’s get a cab,” I murmur against her lips. “I need to get you home and under me. I’m finding the news that you’re knocked up with my baby really fucking sexy.”

  “No way,” she says with a laugh. “You heard the doctor. No strenuous activity for at least another week or two.”

  “Then you can be on top.”

  “No.” She pulls away, pointing a firm finger at my chest, inches from where Keri’s bullet nearly hit my heart. “No sex, that’s final.”

  “But my cock is totally up for this,” I insist.

  She arches a brow. “Your cock is an idiot.”

  “An idiot for your sweet, sweet pussy.” I draw her back into my arms as she shakes her head with a long-suffering sigh. “Seriously, though. I’m feeling so much better. It barely hurts to hug you anymore. I can do this. I’m not your normal gunshot victim, Willoughby. My body is a finely tuned, high functioning machine.”

  She rolls her eyes, but I can feel her resolve weakening as my fingers curl into her hips through her jeans. “You’re hopeless.”

  “No, I’m not.” A wave of gratitude hits me hard, the way those do these days, ever since I fought my way back to this woman. “All I’ve got is hope. And it’s all because of you.”

  We kiss some more, and she cries a little, and maybe I do, too. I’m not sure. I only know that I love her more than anything, and I need to show her, need to feel her skin warm against mine and know there’s nothing standing between us.

  We kiss in the back of the cab on the way to my place, and by the time we make it up the elevator, we have no choice but to get naked the moment we swing through the door. It’s the most cautious, careful fuck of my life, but it’s also the most beautiful. I make love to my beautiful, sexy, wonderful, extraordinary girl, and each time I make her come it’s a celebration, a victory, a confirmation that everything is once again right with the world.

  For now and always.

  EPILOGUE ONE

  Eighteen months later

  From the texts of Shane Willoughby Falcone

  and Catherine “Cat” Knight

  Cat: And we’re sure this is a good idea?

  Two babies at a rowdy, potentially Stanley-Cup-deciding hockey game?

  And no dads around to help, since Aidan has to work and Jake will be on the ice?

  Shane: Yes! It’s a brilliant idea!

  It’s an afternoon game, so chances are the kids will sleep through the entire thing. The roar of the crowd is unexpectedly soothing to small people, like a giant white noise machine.

  Cat: And if they decide screaming is more fun than sleeping?

  I understand that Cersei is an angel infant who expresses herself in sweet little sniffles and coos, but Shane isn’t shy when he’s angry.

  Shane: That’s because he’s named after a badass cowboy. And me. ;)

  I get happy every time I think about that, by the way.

  Cat: Yeah, well, you’re one of my favorite people.

  And it was either that or Jim for Aidan’s dad, and no matter how much I love Jim, I just couldn’t saddle my loin fruit with Jimmy, Jr.

  Shane: Understandable.

  So we’re on for Saturday? Meet outside the Garden at two?

  You know most people would kill for these tickets, right?

  They’re good ones, Catherine. We’ll be able to see the blood and spit fly…

  Cat: Not fair.

  You know how much I love sports and violence. Add in a bunch of furry-faced men who have refused to shave for weeks and you’ve basically offered me a crack rock.

  Shane: Lol. So come! It will be fun!

  Cat: All right, but if Shane melts down, I reserve the right to abandon ship without you getting mad at me for wasting a ridiculously expensive ticket.

  Shane: I would never be mad at you for something like that.

  And Shane won’t melt down.

  If he does, we’ll put Cersei next to him on my lap. She’ll keep him calm.

  You know she’s the baby whisperer.

  Cat: I told Aidan about that—how none of the babies cry at mommy and me yoga as long as Cersei is in the room.

  He thinks it’s just a coincidence.

  Shane: Oh, Aidan. He of little faith!

  But we’ll make a believer of him when number two comes along. Cersei will keep Shane and Bump Who Has Yet To Be Named happy at dinner parties and there will be no denying her magical powers.

  Cat: Remind me again why I thought it was a good idea to get pregnant again less than a year after Shane was born?

  Shane: I was under the impression it was an accident…

  Cat: Dude.

  It totally was.

  Sometimes I hate having a smoking hot husband…

  Shane: Right? It’s the worst.

  Cat: The very worst.

  See you soon, mama. Kiss Cersei good night from Aunt C.

  Shane: Will do. Snuggle Shane for me.

  Cat: Done!

  See you Saturday.

  ***

  Shane

  It is a fact that all mothers think that their babies are the prettiest and the best. It is also a fact that my daughter actually is the prettiest and the best.

  From the moment she was born—emerging into the world with her bow tie lips puckered in a fetching pout and a “so we meet again, lovely world” look in her big, dark eyes—I was a goner.

  Cersei Allison Falcone is not only lovely on the outside; she’s the sweetest
, happiest, most adorable baby in the world. She wakes up every morning laughing and goes to sleep on her daddy’s chest every night that he’s home, smiling like she’s discovered the secret to a long and happy life.

  And maybe she has.

  Maybe all those nights that Jake and I lay awake, him rubbing coconut oil on my expanding belly while we daydreamed out loud about all the things we wanted for our baby, worked some magic. Maybe our words soaked through my skin, marinating our daughter in pure love.

  Love, of course, is the secret to happiness. To knowing there is nothing too big or too scary to face as long as you get to go home to someone who loves you exactly the way you are, to a man you know would lay down his life for yours, because he already has.

  And though a part of me selfishly misses those early days, when Jake was on hiatus while he recovered and we got to be together all the time, I’m so proud of his comeback. Jake “the Dragon” Falcone will always be my hero, no matter how many games he wins or loses, but I can’t deny that hearing an entire stadium cheering for my husband as he plays in what could be the deciding game of the Stanley Cup is pretty damned fun.

  “I can’t believe they’re sleeping through this,” Cat says, raising her voice to be heard over the rabid fans surrounding us.

  “I told you. The crowd noise is magic.” I smile down at where Shane and Cersei lie snoozing in their car seats to my right. They are total opposites—Cersei with her dark hair and eyes, and Shane with his pale skin and the shock of blond hair he inherited from some unknown relative—but each is completely perfect, and I hope they’ll always be the best of friends.

  Suddenly, a tortured groan rips through our side of the stands, pulling my attention away from the babies. I lift my eyes in time to see the Ranger goalie’s head sag and the puck rattling around in the net behind him.

  Damn! Now the score is tied. It’s the end of the third period with less than a minute on the clock. Which means the next goal decides the game, and it’s no longer in the bag for the Rangers.

  You can feel the tension threading through the crowd, shutting down the raucous vibe that’s held sway since our team pulled ahead in the first period and stayed there for the rest of the game. A hush falls over the stands. I cross my fingers and even my toes, folding them together inside my fuzzy boots.

  I know Jake will bounce back from a loss, but I was really hoping to be able to take my man out for a celebratory steak dinner tonight. He’s worked so hard to come back stronger and better than ever, and who knows when he’ll have another shot at the cup.

  I see Jake pat West and a couple of the other defensemen on the back as the two teams skate into position at center ice, keeping everyone’s spirits up the way he has the entire game. As they line up, our side of the stands is so quiet you can hear Shane snuffle softly in his sleep. The ref drops the puck, and the opposing team wins the face off, zipping away down the ice, but before Number Six gets far, Jake darts around another defenseman to steal the puck.

  A shout of hope swells through the crowd like a wave rising and falling, as Jake pushes hard toward the goal and the other forwards surge along beside him.

  “Please, please, please,” I murmur, holding my breath as Jake passes the puck, rifling it over to Ridgeway who slaps it past the goalie and into the yawning net.

  The stands explode with shouts and cheers. Cat and I are jumping up and down, and the girls next to us are screaming, and the man in front of me is crying while his son thumps him on the back.

  And of course, the babies sleep through it all.

  The teams face off again, but with only twenty seconds left on the clock, the Rangers pin the other team in and shut down any chance of a comeback. And then it’s all over except for the crying—the other team’s and this old man’s happy tears because he desperately wanted to see another cup win before he skated off into that big hockey rink in the sky.

  Sports fans. They are still a different species to me, but I can’t deny it feels good to be a part of this moment, this victory, this bit of sports history that will forever include a kick ass pass completed by my very own dragon.

  “I’m so glad I came,” Cat says as we push the strollers down to the family lounge, where we’ll meet Jake once he’s done with the post-game interview blitz. “It was so much fun.”

  “I’m glad!” I say, then frown as I spot a familiar face in the crowd. I lift an arm. “Hillary! Hey, it’s Shane!” I guide the stroller her way, leaning down to pull her in for a hug, laughing as the banana in her fruit-basket-themed hat pokes me in the chin. “Since when do you like hockey?”

  “Since never,” Hillary says with a sniff. “Terrible, violent game. I’m just here to help Catherine with the babies.”

  My brows draw tight together as I shoot Cat a sharp glance over my shoulder. “What’s this? What are you two up to?”

  “We’re going to take Cersei back to my place,” Cat says, an evil grin curving her lips. “Jake has something special planned for you. And I need to practice taking care of two babies at once, anyway.”

  “I’m going to help in exchange for a free tattoo from Cat’s husband,” Hillary says, bending down to rub a finger over Cersei’s round belly. “Oh my goodness, darling. She’s even more beautiful than last week. I’m going to have to train flying attack monkeys to keep the boys away when she grows up.”

  “Flying attack monkeys are what I was thinking, too,” I say, still frowning. “And since when do you want a tattoo?”

  “Since my last birthday.” Cersei smiles in her sleep, summoning an equally blissed out smile from the Hills. “Getting my first tattoo at ninety will make a great story at the next Met gala.”

  “Your bags are packed, and Jake brought over Cersei’s things this morning.” Cat pats my hands, which are still locked onto the stroller in a death grip. “You can do this. Cersei will be surrounded by friends, and you and Jake deserve a real honeymoon. One with no gunshot wounds or morning sickness in it.”

  “A honeymoon?” I bite my lip. The thought of time alone with the husband hockey has stolen from me the past few months is pretty damn exciting. “Are we going to a beach? Please tell me it’s a beach.”

  Hillary wags a finger. “We’re not telling you anything. It’s his surprise.” She takes command of the stroller and somehow I find the strength to kiss Cersei’s sweet, sleeping cheek and then to slowly…let go.

  I love my daughter, and we haven’t been apart a day since she was born, but I need time alone with her daddy—need it more than I realized until Hillary and Cat stroll away, leaving me to find my way to the lounge on my own, a giddy elation filling my chest. I arrive at the same time as several of the other wives and girlfriends and spend the next twenty minutes chatting with women who have become like an extended family to me.

  Jake has brought so many lovely things into my life, but none better than the man himself, the man who makes a beeline for me as soon as he arrives in the lounge, as if there isn’t another person in the room.

  “Congratulations.” I slip into his arms, hugging him tight. “You’ve still got it, dragon.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “So, you let them take the stroller? I had a bet going with Cat that you’d refuse to let Cersei out of your sight.”

  I tip my head back, meeting his gaze as I soak in the divine sight of my husband without the mangy beard he’s been growing for weeks. “I love our child more than life itself, but you had me at honeymoon.” I lean in, adding in a whisper for his ears only, “Tell me we’re going to a beach and I’ll suck your cock like it’s my job, as soon as we land.”

  His grin goes wicked at the edges. “Bali. You and me. Five nights in a bungalow on a private beach.”

  I sigh, excitement and nervousness mixing in my chest. “Five nights. Do you think she’ll be okay that long without us? She won’t think we’ve abandoned her?”

  “Cersei is the happiest person I’ve ever met,” Jake says. “And she’ll have baby Shane, Fifi, Biscuit, a devoted aun
t and uncle, and a crazy surrogate grandmother to keep her busy. She’ll be fine.”

  I hum thoughtfully. “Did you know that Hillary is getting a tattoo?”

  “I heard that,” he says. “I hope she goes with a skull and crossbones on her bicep. That would be a good look for her.”

  I shake my head. “I love her so much. I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

  He smiles. “I think there’s a good chance of that.”

  I relax into him, letting his fresh-from-the-shower smell swirl through my head. “Jesus. I’m so glad we’re doing this. But there’s one problem.”

  “What’s that?” he asks, shamelessly dropping a hand to grab my ass.

  “There are people in here, you know,” I say, arching a brow. “People with eyes.”

  “Then we should get out of here,” he says, not moving his hand. “I need some quality time with your fine ass.”

  “I agree, but my fine ass is going to miss my appointment with my ob-gyn next week. That means we’re stuck with condoms, dragon.”

  He lifts a broad shoulder. “Or not.”

  “Or not,” I echo, a grin creeping across my face as I smell what he’s cooking. “Mr. Falcone, are you saying you want to knock me up again?”

  “Well, I do like making babies with you.” He shrugs, heat creeping into his dark eyes. “But we can stick to practicing if you’re not ready. Fucking you with a condom is still almost more excitement than I can handle.”

  I bite my lip as I press closer to my red-hot husband, the telltale swelling against my thigh making me ache to be alone with him. “No, I’m ready. So ready I wish we could start trying right now.”

  “Right now, you say?” His hand flattens at the small of my back, urging me against his cock. “Because I happen to know of a deserted supply closet and we’ve got an hour to kill before we need to head to the airport.”