A Daddy for Mother's Day_A Secret Baby Romance

by Natalie Knight

  “Hiya, Ms. Izzie,” Dirk says, giving me his shy smile. “I was looking for those muffins you promised me.”

  I smile back at him. How can you help but like a guy who could crush a full-grown chicken in one fist if he wanted to but refuses to even eat an egg?

  “Right over here, Dirk,” I say, pointing toward the plate with the V label just as Brady grabs the last muffin and stuffs it into his mouth. Dirk and I look at the empty plate, holding only a dusting of crumbs, where a dozen muffins were piled just a few minutes ago.

  “Where’d they all go?” Dirk says, his deep voice plaintive.

  Wordlessly, I point to Brady, who’s eating the last bite of muffin. I stand there, hands on my hips and glaring at him, and he starts to turn around.

  “Hey, Izzie, those were just about the best muffins I’ve eaten in years,” he says in a jaunty voice. His smile fades as he sees that it’s Dirk behind him, not me.

  I giggle as I watch his eyes, which were ready to settle somewhere around my boobs, now traveling up Dirk’s broad chest as he towers over Brady.

  “Those muffins were for me, Thomas,” Dirk growls. “Ms. Izzie makes them special because I’m a vegan. Unless you’re vegan, too?”

  “I…uh…uh, no,” Brady stammers, his usual cocksure composure puddling somewhere around his feet. I bet he doesn’t even know what a vegan is.

  I can barely keep from laughing and have to settle for a smirk, standing behind Dirk where he can’t see me, but Brady can.

  “I, uh, didn’t know.” He shoots me a dirty look, and I just smile innocently.

  “I tried to tell you,” I said. Then I smile at Dirk and put a reassuring hand on his meaty forearm. “It’s okay, Dirk. I have another batch in the oven, just about done. If you want to sit down, I’ll bring them up to you in a few minutes.”

  Dirk gives me a sweet smile again. He looks like Liam’s teddy bear. “I sure do appreciate it,” he says in his Southern drawl, beaming at me. He grabs some fruit and then lumbers off to a table, glaring at Brady again, who looks like he’s going to throw up all those muffins he was chain-eating.

  It’s pretty entertaining to see Mr. Cocksure suddenly not so sure at all.

  I turn to go downstairs to the kitchen, and Brady follows me, catching my arm. “You did that on purpose,” he mutters.

  I shrug, trying to ignore the fact that his fingers on my bare arm give me an electric shock. “I tried to tell you.”

  “Well, you didn’t try very hard,” he says. I glare at his fingers on my arm until he removes them.

  “Well, maybe next time you’ll listen,” I say, unexpected anger rising in my voice. “Everything in this world isn’t there expressly for your benefit, Mr. Brady Thomas.”

  Like Lucy. Did you even say a single word when she broke up with you so that you could change schools without a qualm? I bet you didn’t.

  Brady’s giving me that weird, appraising stare again, like he just can’t quite figure out who I am. I know there are moments, according to Gigi, when I’m a lot like Lucy in my expressions and how I say things.

  Is that what catches him? This is getting uncomfortable, and we’ve only just started the season.

  “Excuse me,” I say elaborately, then make my way to the kitchen. Muffins are so nice and uncomplicated.

  Chapter 9

  Brady

  It’s surprisingly getting easier to drive into work every day. I honestly thought I was gonna hate it, but a little blond birdie has been keeping me on my toes ever since I got here.

  I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s certainly interesting, to say the least.

  And no, I’m not saying that just because she has a pretty face. Well, okay, a stunning face. But there’s something more to her, too.

  Whatever it is, she’s certainly making this trade so much easier to handle. It’s like I have a little mystery to solve, and I have unlimited time to figure it out.

  As I drive into the stadium and park my car, I see Willis waddling out.

  “See? I parked my own car this time.” I swing the keys around my fingers.

  He shakes his head and laughs. “Damn, just when I was starting to enjoy handling that Bentley.”

  I guess I’m growing on him.

  I enter the stadium, nodding and winking at Coach who sighs and rolls his eyes as he always does. I walk straight to the locker room to change and drop off my stuff. As soon as I walk in, the room lights up with jeers.

  “Late! Late! Late!” The whole team sounds like a chorus of howls before breaking into rambunctious snickers.

  “Y'all are way too hyped for a Monday morning,” I say, cramming my crap into my locker.

  As I get dressed, James walks up to me and places his leg up on the bench to lace his shoes. Out of the two wide receivers, he’s my favorite. He actually catches my passes instead of flailing around with the ball like a dying fish.

  “So what late excuse you got this time?” He looks up at me. His chin’s still red after he took a tumble at yesterday’s practice that left him dragging half his face into the green.

  “Eh, the nutritionist’s got me eating boiled egg whites every morning.” I climb into my uniform, which feels a lot tighter than usual. Damn, have I put on weight? “What can I say? They take time to cook.”

  “Ah, Izzie.” James’s face suddenly lights up. “God, she’s amazing, isn’t she?”

  Hearing her name suddenly makes my ears perk up like a dog.

  “Oh yeah. The pretty blond nutritionist.” I slam my locker shut and place my leg up on the bench to lace up my shoes. “What do you know about her?”

  “What do you mean?” Judging by the expression on James’s face, he clearly already knows what I mean.

  “You know, she’s kind of…mysterious.” I fumble with my laces. “I just want to know what she’s all about.”

  James stops lacing up his shoes and leans against a locker. “You mean she’s not falling for your Brady charms and you want to know if she has a boyfriend or something?”

  “No, that’s not it—”

  “Because if that’s what you’re getting at, you know you have that morality clause—”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to say!”

  Just then, Sean, the running back, pops up out of nowhere and decides to join the conversation.

  “Are we talking about that hot nutritionist?” His bald head practically illuminates the room.

  Goddamn it.

  “No, we’re not.” I stand up and grab my water bottle. “It’s nothing. Let’s head out to the field. Aren’t we all late?”

  “Yeah, thanks to you.” James playfully slaps me across the head. It’s a good thing he’s the second best player on the team; otherwise I’d be super annoyed at his constant teasing.

  “Dude, Izzie’s the real deal.” Sean leans against the locker, his head practically blinding me. “She’s completely solved my cramping issue with my knees, and I’ve been having that problem for months. She’s like a little miracle worker.”

  An adorable miracle worker. But I try not to let the guys see my true feelings.

  “Come on.” I shrug. “All she’s doing is telling dudes to go eat their broccoli. She’s hardly curing cancer.”

  Just then, Marcus walks in. Fuck, does everyone on the team need to be included in this conversation or something?

  “Uh, guys, practice started like two minutes ago.” As the smallest and youngest-looking, Marcus’s voice is always surprisingly deep every time he opens his mouth.

  James props his elbow on my shoulder, leaning on me. “We’re talking about the hot blond nutritionist that Brady’s got the hots for.”

  “Who, Izzie?” Marcus sits down, now fully invested in the conversation.

  Ugh, will these people leave! I now fully regret even bringing her up. I can’t have Coach finding out that I have a girl on my mind—and a coworker at that.

  “Yep.” James digs his elbow into my shoulder. “We were just talking about how am
azing she is. And hot, right, Brady?”

  I guess I’m just the butt of everyone’s jokes today. It’s a good thing I’m the type of person to not take it too seriously.

  “I have a girlfriend, so I’m not really looking at her like that,” Marcus’s voice vibrates. “But I have to say, her anti-inflammatory diet’s the reason I’ve been able to shave time off my running game despite my knee injury last season.”

  Sean stretches his legs on the bench. “It’s crazy how much she’s changed the team in such a small amount of time. If we do well this season, it’ll honestly be all credited to her.”

  Wow, and now I can’t help but laugh—a loud, boisterous cackle that snaps the other players out of their “Let’s Tease Brady” game.

  “Really?” I grab my helmet. I’m so ready to leave. “You think she deserves more credit in this team than me? I mean, I understand I’m not an attractive blond lady, but come on.”

  “I don’t know, Brady. You tell us.” James has that cocky grin on his face again. “You’re the one who seems a little obsessed with her. I noticed your behavior has changed for the better, too. Looks like Izzie’s had a positive effect on everyone.”

  Before I can say anything, Coach walks in. The room’s a clatter of noise as players stand up and start rushing out the room.

  “What is this, a Girl Scouts’ meeting?!” Coach’s voice can be heard from Saturn. “Practice started five minutes ago. Move, move, move!”

  As my teammates all rush out of the room, I follow them, but I’m stopped by Coach McGoy. He places his hand on my shoulder, and already I know what he’s going to say to me.

  “I heard some pieces of the conversation as I walked in here.” The coach lowers his voice into a whisper. “What’s all this talk about Ms. Williams?”

  I shake my head. I’ve never felt readier to go to practice and not talk about women in my life.

  “It’s nothing. Me and the guys were just talking about how her diet plans have been working for everyone on the team. Everyone seems to like her at lot. That’s all.”

  The coach eyes me without saying anything. Ugh, I hate when he does this.

  “Please don’t read into this.” My eyes are pleading.

  “Listen, I know you’re a guy and you have guy thoughts,” Coach starts, “but that morality clause is iron tight, you hear me?”

  I nod. It feels like a broken record to hear about abiding the morality clause again and again and not “fraternizing” with any lady coworkers. But hearing it out loud from Coach really seals in the cold, hard reality of the situation.

  As amazing, smart, and adorable Izzie is, I need to stop focusing on her so much. Because in the end, I can’t act on any impulses I have.

  Plus, Izzie seems to be warming up to every player on the team but me. Why obsess over her so much if she hates my guts?

  “I understand, Coach. I won’t do anything stupid.”

  “I hope I can trust you on that.” Coach slaps me on the back. “Besides, Izzie’s not like one of your football groupies from back home. She’s a good girl with her focus on her career. Don’t be getting any wild ideas in your head.”

  “I won’t, I won’t.”

  I grab my helmet and follow Coach out to the field. As I’m walking, I notice my pants are really tight. Like, extremely tight.

  They’re so snug I honestly feel like they might break any minute. What the hell? Did I seriously put on some major weight or something?

  As I start panicking about how I’m going to get through practice without splitting my pants open, I spot Dirk, who starts stomping up to me.

  Uh oh, this can’t be good.

  “Hey, Brady.” He lifts up my shirt and pats the fat bulging from the top of my tight pants. “Nice muffin top. Figured you would like it since you enjoy muffins so much.”

  The whole team erupts into laughter as I look down at my itty-bitty pants and quickly realize what the hell happened.

  The guys are laughing so hard they’re practically falling over each other.

  “Really, guys?!” I yell at them as I waddle back to the locker room on my tippy toes. “Those muffins weren’t labeled!”

  These dudes, I swear. I think they’re all starting to grow on me as much as Izzie has.

  Chapter 10

  Izzie

  As I observe Brady maintaining high energy and lifting up his teammates during this extended practice, I get to see a glimpse of his good side. He’s a selfish shithead outside the game, but he’s also really team-oriented and has spent just as much time praising his teammates as he has been playing football.

  I don’t stand too close. I’m off to the side of the field, doing my best not to be in the way as Coach McGoy paces the end zone.

  As all of them come rushing, I see the ball soar through the goal. Coach tosses a fist in the air and exclaims his praise to the team.

  They all break their formation and walk in staggered groups back to the locker room to get dressed. I nonchalantly scan the group for Brady; I can’t help it.

  When my eyes finally land on him, I see that he’s talking to Coach McGoy. I decide I’m not going to interrupt. I was only going to tell him he really inspired his teammates today.

  No big deal.

  Rather than stick around, I decide to go ahead and get out of there. I’ve already given everyone their diet adjustments for the week, so it might be weird if I hung around anyway.

  Brady’s a very handsome man, and I don’t want anyone to have a reason to think anything’s going on when there isn’t.

  I walk through the building to my little office and grab my bag. I dig through it. God, I swear I’m always losing these keys.

  As I paw through my stuff, moving around pieces of unnecessary shit, I lift my head to my desk. On it, I finally see my large, obnoxious key ring, with my car key sticking out.

  Of course.

  I take a deep breath, run my fingers through my hair, and finger-comb it away from my face. I snatch my keys and aggressively flip down the light switch.

  God, why am I so flustered? It’s just your keys, Izzie. Get a fucking grip here.

  I walk quickly to my car when I realize what time it is. Shit. I need to get Liam from school.

  The poor kid’s probably going to be the last one picked up. Again.

  I book it to the school, windows down and music up, trying to relax and shake off my frustration. As I pull up to the pick-up area, I don’t see Liam right away, but there are plenty of other kids around.

  Phew. I’m not that late.

  I park my car and close my eyes behind my sunglasses, just resting for a moment while I wait for Liam. He’s probably in the bathroom or something.

  I drift off for just a moment as I wait, visions of work playing through my head. Brady’s there, as unfortunate as that may be. I just can’t shake how uplifting he was today as a player.

  It’s just not a side of him I had ever expected to see.

  As Liam unlatches the door and climbs into the back seat, I jolt.

  “Hey, buddy! How was your day?” I ask.

  “It was good. I learned about the solar system!” he returns, ecstatic.

  “Oh, awesome!” I say as I put the car into gear. When he latches his seat belt, I pull off, heading home for the evening. “Which planet is this?”

  “We live on planet Earth!” he answers quickly.

  I nod and smile at him, acknowledging him in the rearview mirror.

  The rest of our drive home’s fairly quiet. It’s odd; Liam’s on the chatty side most days. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something on his mind.

  “You doin’ okay, buddy?” I prod. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

  “Well, kinda. Mommy, can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course you can, hun. What’s up?” I ask, trying to be as open as possible.

  “I wanna go to the game with you next week,” he requests. “If I do well in school this week, can I go? It would make me so, so happy.”

/>   “Well, kiddo, I just don’t know if that would be a great idea,” I answer.

  “Pleaaaassseeee?” he begs. “You can ask Auntie Alex to go with us. You wouldn’t have to just watch me the whole time. And I’ll be so good. I just really wanna see the game!”

  I pause. Liam’s in love with football. He really would appreciate being able to go.

  He’s excited I work with the team, so it’s almost a crime to him that I haven’t introduced him yet.

  And with Alex tagging along, it could really take a lot of pressure off me. Not that I mind parenting him alone; I just know I’ll be kind of stressed the whole day.

  “I’ll tell you what, I can’t say yes or no right now, but I promise I’ll ask Auntie Alex if she can come. If she can come, so can you. Okay?”

  “Mommy, really?” he shouts. “Oh, you’re just the best! I love you!”

  “I love you, too, kiddo.”

  We pull up into the driveway.

  “Alright, Liam. We’re home. Do you have any homework left to do?”

  “A little. But I’m hungry.”

  That’s fair. This job has been an adjustment; it has pushed our dinner back by about an hour.

  “What’re you hungry for tonight?” I ask.

  His eyes light up. “Wait, I get to pick what we eat?” he asks.

  “Yep!”

  “Pizza!”

  I should’ve known it was going to be pizza. Pepperoni’s his favorite.

  “You got it. I’m gonna order it now.”

  I gotta admit it’s a little ironic that I’m a nutrition specialist for a football team, and I know what you should and shouldn’t eat, but I’m ordering pizza for dinner.

  Some days you just have to give in. Not every day; that’s not healthy. But indulging right now after weeks of baked chicken and fresh veggies, we’ll be just fine.

  After I place the order, I shoot Alex a text.

  I need a favor. Liam really wants to go to the home game next week. Can you come with us and help me out with him? I have a ticket for you already, so it’s at no cost to you. Lol.