“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“I already asked Hazel if it was okay if I married you,” he says. He opens up the ring box. “Camille Sanders, will you marry me?”
I dive across the bed, tackling him and kissing him.
His hair is messed up from sex. He looks so sexy.
“I take it that’s a yes?” he asks.
“Yes!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Let’s go tell Hazel,” he says. “She’ll be so excited.”
“I love you, Blake,” I whisper to him. “Even if you are unemployed.”
He tickles me until I scream.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
BLAKE
“I want you to carry me on your shoulders,” Hazel says, a popsicle dripping down her hand, her ear-covered hat askew.
I lift her up.
“Have you been eating boulders?” I say jokingly.
She giggles and the sound fills my heart with joy.
“We need to get a good spot for the parade,” Camille says, her nose in the map.
“How about over there?” I ask, pointing next to the castle.
We camp out, sitting on the sidewalk. Hazel crawls onto my lap.
I look at Camille.
“Is now a good time?”
She nods.
“Hazel, we need to tell you something,” Camille says.
Hazel licks her popsicle happily.
“Okay.”
“You know how you said you wanted Blake to be your father?” she asks.
“Yes! And he will be my new daddy. You’re getting married!” she shrieks happily, clapping her hands together.
“Yes, baby,” Camille says. “But he’s your actual dad. Your real dad. I lost touch with him. But he’s half of your genes.”
I know that Camille the science nerd would raise her daughter to know what that meant.
Hazel looks up at me.
“I thought we had the same eyes,” she says wisely.
“Are you okay, baby?” I ask her.
Hazel gives me a huge hug.
“I love you, Blake.”
“You can call him dad, Hazel face. Whatever you want.”
Hazel looks up at me with her green eyes that really do look so much like mine. “I love you, Daddy.”
My heart grows sixteen sizes.
I’m turning into a bit of a softie.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CAMILLE
The next afternoon Blake takes Hazel into the park so I can take a nap. Before he leaves, Blake draws me a magnificent bath with bubbles and candles. He kisses me on the lips, long and full.
“You rest up, we’ve got a big night prepared tonight,” he says.
“More surprises?” I ask him, shocked.
He grins.
“You’ll see.”
I fall asleep in the bath and wake up refreshed and pruny. I take a quick shower and throw on a bathrobe when there’s a knock at the door.
I answer it and see three people standing there. One of them is Evan Lochte, my hair stylist. My jaw drops.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to do your hair and makeup of course,” he says. He rolls a wheeled suitcase into our suite.
“For what?”
He just grins.
“For dinner. Now sit down. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
I can’t protest as he tugs and rolls my hair into an updo. His two assistants poke and prod at my face in a cloud of powder. An hour later, he spins me around for a look in the mirror.
“You look stunning,” he says. “Like a glamourous movie star from the fifties.”
“Where is Blake? He flew you out here?”
“Amazing what an unemployed guy can afford,” Evan jokes. He reaches into his jean pockets and pulls out a white envelope. “This is for you.” He gives me a hug. “Good luck.” They all leave the suite.
I rip open the envelope. I recognize Blake’s handwriting.
Check inside the closet.
I walk over to the double doors that lead to the walk-in closet. There’s a single garment bag hanging on the rack. I unzip it, my heart beating. Inside is a floor-length gown in royal blue. It’s the color of my eyes. I pull it out and see that it’s silk with lace sleeves and a bustle. It’s stunningly gorgeous.
I slip it on and realize I can’t get the zipper all the way up. That’s when there’s a knock at the door.
I rush over to the door and nearly trip over the shoes that match my dress. I pick them up and answer the door.
Blake is standing there in a tuxedo, Hazel holding his hand. She’s wearing a fluffy white dress.
“Hazel, you look like a princess!” I say to her. Her hair is loose and flowing around her shoulders.
“Daddy bought it for me!” she says.
“Where on earth are we going?” I ask Blake. He kisses me on the lips.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he whispers into my ear. “We’ve got a surprise for you.” He looks down at Hazel. “Hazel, you lead the way.”
She skips down the hallway and presses the elevator button.
Blake loops his arm through mine. “After you,” he says.
We land in the lobby and I see a trail of white rose petals on the carpet.
“Where…”
“Just relax and let this unfold, Camille,” he says. He looks me up and down, love in his eyes. “Have I told you how beautiful you are in blue?”
I blush and bite my lip.
“Once or twice.”
“I hope you don’t mind that the dress is blue.”
How did you get my measurements so exact?”
Blake laughs.
“You have so little faith in my abilities, Cami.”
We walk out of the hotel, Hazel still skipping ahead of us. We follow the trail to the park entrance and slide through the gates. People keep smiling at us.
That’s when I see it.
The trail of rose petals ends at the feet of a carriage. It looks like a glass ball wrapped in white iron supports. Two white horses stand at the ready to pull it.
“What is this?” I ask. That’s when I realize the park is completely devoid of anyone other than the occasional employee dressed in formal wear.
“After you,” Blake says again, helping me up into the carriage across from where Hazel is already sitting.
It trundles down the front part of the park, where the buildings are lit up with white fairy lights. My heart skips several beats, and I squeeze Blake’s hand.
“This is quite a way to take me to dinner,” I say nervously. My heart is racing.
Blake smiles at me and I kiss him. Then I look ahead.
There are rows of chairs set up in front of the castle. I see a handful of people sitting in the seats but can’t make out any of them in the dim lights from the castle. There’s a man standing at the end of a white carpet that lines the aisle.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “Oh my God.”
“Are you surprised, Mommy?” Hazel asks. She hops out of the carriage and picks up a basket of white rose petals, skipping down the aisle and sprinkling the carpet with them.
Tears are streaming down my face and I feel like I can barely breathe from emotion.
“Are you serious right now? Blake. How did you do all of this?”
He kisses me.
“That’s a story for another time. For now, it’s time for me to marry my princess.”
He hops out of the carriage and helps me down. Everyone stands up. I see Josh, Eloise, Janet, Sam, Amanda, Thomas, and a half dozen other Warriors teammates.
I’m all-out sobbing. Blake hands me a handkerchief.
“Do you need a moment?”
I shake my head.
“Let’s do this.”
And we do, in front of our friends. Our chosen family. They are the witnesses to us making an eternal bond.
I’ve never felt happiness quite
like this.
CHAPTER FIFTY
BLAKE
ONE YEAR LATER
“I brought you pickles, bean dip, a can of frosting, and the spiciest butter chicken in the entire city of Austin.”
Camille sits up in bed, her stomach huge.
“Why spicy food?”
“It’s supposed to induce labor,” I explain, sitting at the foot of the bed and grabbing her feet. I reach for a bottle of lotion and start massaging. “Same with foot massage.”
Camille laughs.
“Why do you want me to go into labor? So I can finally get off my ass and off bed rest?”
“So I can finally meet these babies,” I say with a smile.
She shakes her head and smiles.
“You sure have come a long way from not wanting anything to do with babies.” She pops open the butter chicken. “Mm, this smells delicious.”
“What can I say? Hazel changed my mind about kids. She’s perfect. Just like the twins will be when they get here. Hopefully soon.”
She pops a bite of the Indian food into her mouth and moans as I massage her feet. “Eating Indian food while I get a foot massage might be better than sex.”
“I’m not doing sex right if that’s how you feel,” I say jokingly. “Eat up. Dr. Smith called and she wants you to come by her office for one more check-up. I got you an appointment for an hour from now. We should leave soon to beat the traffic.”
Camille manages to inhale the rest of the butter chicken.
“Ready,” she says a few minutes later.
“Someone’s eager to get out of the house, huh?” I say. “Let me get your wheelchair.”
Ten minutes later, we’re loaded up into my pickup, the wheelchair folded up in the bed of the truck.
“Traffic is bad,” Camille says. “But I guess that’s par for the course with Austin, huh?”
“You ever get sick of it?” I ask her, heading down the highway at a glacial pace.
“The traffic? Yes. More than anything.” She gasps. “Who’s picking up Hazel if you’re coming with me?”
“Eloise is,” I say. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this stay-at-home-dad thing under control.”
“Do you ever miss it?” Camille asks me. I can’t get over how much her face glows when she’s pregnant.
“Miss what?”
“Football.”
I squeeze her hand.
“I wouldn’t trade this for ten million dollars. And I can say that, because I essentially did trade but the other way around.”
“I love you, Blake,” she says. “I don’t tell you enough.”
“You tell me plenty,” I say. I speed around a stopped row of cars in the right lane.
“You missed the exit,” Camille says, craning her neck to look back at the last exit ramp.
“No, I didn’t,” I say, speeding out of the Austin city limits at seventy miles an hour.
“You did,” Camille says. “Her office is back there.”
I grin at her.
“I didn’t miss anything.”
“Are you taking me out in the middle of nowhere and leaving me for dead?” Camille asks with a laugh. “Am I going to be the next subject for Dateline?”
“You’re safe,” I say to her, squeezing her thigh this time. “We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Are you marrying me again?” Camille asks. “Because the first wedding was better than great.”
I laugh. “No, not marrying you again. But I certainly would.” I grin at her.
“I should have known when I married you that my life would be full of surprises.” She sighs and watches the Texas countryside fly by. “You know we need to get someone out to look at the roof of the house. It needs replacing soon.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say.
“The house is just so big for us. Poor Eloise can barely keep up with the cleaning any more. I’ve been wanting to get the nursery ready for the twins but I’ve had no time between bed rest and working from home.”
I nod.
“I know your nesting instincts have been in high gear. It must be frustrating that you can’t do anything about it.” I take an exit and drive down a country road, the Hill Country unravelling before us with its twisted, low-to-the ground knotty oaks and rolling hills.
I slow down and take a right at a falling-down mailbox.
“This is it.”
“What is ‘this’?” Camille asks.
I leave the truck to idle and hop out to unlock the gate. It swings open with a rusty creak. I hop back in the truck.
“This looks like a horror film,” Camille says of the weed-infested gravel road.
“It won’t look like this forever,” I promise her, driving carefully up the twisting driveway. We head uphill on the switchback roads, twisting and turning and winding on this gorgeous, early March day. I roll down the windows and a cool breeze blows through the truck.
“Smell that?” I ask her.
“Grape popsicles,” she says with a grin. “Texas mountain laurel.”
“It’s all over this property.”
“Blake, what are we doing?”
We turn the final corner and a cottage made of hewn quarry stone pops up in front of us. The front door is royal blue, the color of Camille’s eyes. It’s a sprawling ranch-style house and has cedar shutters and a standing seam metal roof. A large rain barrel rests at the end of the house.
“We’re here,” I say, hopping out and grabbing the wheelchair. I help Camille into it. There’s a note pasted on the door. I peel it off and hand it to Camille. “I believe this is for you.”
Camille takes it suspiciously and opens it. She starts sobbing as she reads it.
I know what it says, and take it from her to read it out loud.
Camille,
This is the house we talked about. This is where we will raise our children, together forever. I love you with all my heart.
Blake
P.S. – Sorry the yard isn’t tidy yet. It’ll be taken care of soon.
I hand Camille a tissue from my pocket and she blows her nose loudly.
“I’m a mess,” she says. “I can’t believe you bought us a house.”
“Don’t get too excited,” I say cautiously. “The only thing that’s really finished is the door that’s been painted.”
Camille shakes her head, her brown hair falling gorgeously around her shoulders.
“Are you serious? This is the greatest thing ever. Now I want to see the inside.”
“As you wish,” I say, unlocking the front door. It swings open.
I was lying. The house is completely finished.
Camille gasps.
“Oh my God,” she whispers as I wheel her inside. “Blake. Blake. You’re serious right now.”
The house has dark wood floors polished to a high shine. The modest living room is filled with squashy beige sofas draped in brightly-colored blankets. There’s a stone fireplace that is the focal point of the room. The back wall is floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors that look out at the magnificent Hill Country view.
“You did all of this?” she asks.
“Well, I hired people to do all of this.”
“How many square feet?”
“About three thousand. Just enough for all of us, including Eloise. She already knows. She’s ecstatic to be in a smaller house.”
“Blake, it’s absolutely perfect,” she says.
“You haven’t seen the half of it,” I say to her with a grin. I wheel her into the massive kitchen with chef’s stove and two refrigerators. The marble countertops gleam, and the brand-new dark wood cabinets are shining in the lights. We roll down the hallway and I open the first door.
The room is bright pink with a twin-sized bed draped in a white gauze canopy. Letters on the wall spell out Hazel’s name. The plush beige carpet looks inviting.
Camille is crying again.
“This is so perfect. So, so perfect.”
“You ment
ioned the twins not having a room,” I say to her. “I think you were wrong about that.”
Camille gasps as we go to the next room, which is grey, black, and white.
“I read online that babies need to sleep in dark rooms. So, that’s why the walls are charcoal. And those heavy curtains there? Blackout shades. I want to make sure they get as much sleep as is humanly possible for them.” Two white cribs sit next to one another. “So, do you like it?”
Camille looks up at me with her sparkling blue eyes, sniffling.
“It’s absolutely magnificently perfect. I can’t believe you did all of this.”
“One more space to show you,” I say to her. We stop at double doors at the end of the hallway. “Our space.”
The doors open into a room with two walls made of glass. The windows showcase the Hill Country vista and the tangled, knotted oak trees in our yard. A four-poster bed sits atop more hardwood floors that go all the way into the master bathroom. A white claw-footed tub sits ensconced in a niche made of windows.
“For you to relax in,” I say to her.
Camille stands up to hug me.
“You should sit,” I say to her.
She shakes her head.
“I need to hug and kiss you right now.”
“Careful. Keep kissing me like that and we just might end up christening this bedroom.”
She grins at me.
“I can’t believe you kept all of this a secret from me.”
“Do you think it’s too small? I didn’t show you your office or Eloise’s space. It’s on the other side of the house.”
“My office?”
“I already snuck all your science textbooks in there.”
“When did you do that?”
I shrug.
“When you were busy with the billion things you do each day. I was thinking you could work remotely a lot of the time.” I point out the window. “Your office is disconnected from the house. I had them build you a little work shed. It has AC and heat and power and all that good stuff. Sorry the garden isn’t ready, but we were working on a time crunch.”
“Don’t you apologize for any of –“ Camille gasps and doubles over.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I think…my water just broke. Ah – ah – ooow!” She grabs my forearm so hard she nearly snaps the bone.
DIRTY PLAYER: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Page 15