A Daddy for Mother's Day_A Secret Baby Romance

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A Daddy for Mother's Day_A Secret Baby Romance Page 9

by Natalie Knight


  When she tells me this, I can’t help but feel a tad happy and excited about it. Izzie, in my house for three weeks? Yes, ma’am.

  But I must have a pervy grin on my face because Izzie quickly adds, “But I promise we’ll be out of your hair by this weekend.”

  Fuck, and now I’m sad again.

  “Why this weekend?” I’m seriously bummed. “Where else are you guys gonna go?”

  “Well, my friend, Alex, will be back in town, and we can all move in with her temporarily.”

  I wave off her remarks. I’m not sure who Alex is, but I’m sure she lives in a tiny one- or two-bedroom apartment—way too small to accommodate Izzie and Liam comfortably.

  “Nonsense.” I finish my last bite of salad, and throw a napkin over the plate. “You’re staying with me. I don’t want to hear anything else. This place is a palace. There’s more than enough room for everyone.”

  Izzie’s eyes look relieved, but her voice is conveying the opposite.

  “Liam, I really appreciate that, but you have to admit that having us here is inconvenient. We barely know each other, and, so far, you’ve had to change your whole daily routine for us.”

  I pick up my plate and start clearing the table. I’m honestly done with the conversation. How many times do I have to tell her that she’s welcome here? It’s ridiculous that she’s even thinking of staying somewhere else when there’s so much space here.

  “Nope, you’re not going anywhere.” I grab her plate and Liam’s, and head to the kitchen. Izzie chases after me but says nothing as I load the dishes in the dishwasher.

  “I just don’t want to…be in the way, or…” Izzie tries to plead her case, but it’s clear she’s succumbing to her fate.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I scrape a piece of broccoli off a plate before sticking it in the dishwasher. “If anything, you’re doing me a favor. This was the best meal I’ve had in years.”

  Izzie’s face grows a subtle pink. I’m starting to notice she does this adorable thing where she scrunches up her mouth to the side of her face when she’s trying not to smile.

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “Of course, I liked it,” I smile, teasing her a little. “Oh, and I had this made for you.”

  I reach into my back pocket and pull out a key I had duplicated earlier that day. I walk over and drop it into Izzie’s hand, who clutches it like it’s forbidden fruit.

  “Relax,” I tell her as I look into her eyes. “Stay awhile.”

  Chapter 18

  Izzie

  The water cascades down my body, easing my sore muscles. Who would have thought that being a nutritionist could be so exhausting? It’s turned into much more than just creating diet plans for the players.

  I love seeing the dietary decisions I make for them manifest on the field by increasing the kicker’s distance by a few crucial feet or by helping Brady improve his arm strength.

  It’s crazy to think that in just the short time I’ve worked for the San Antonio Rangers, I’ve gone from ducking into random offices and closets avoiding him to helping him improve his game. Unfortunately, my present living situation makes it impossible to escape his intense gaze and probing questions when I’m away from work.

  That’s why this shower is such a reprieve—and why I’m probably taking the longest shower of my life. Staying at Brady’s house opens up a whole mansion-size crater of anxiety and fear.

  I’m always on guard to make sure I don’t accidentally slip. I’m relieved that I was able to remove the picture of Lucy and me in my office before he spotted it. To be honest, I’m not convinced that he would recognize her after all this time, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.

  It’s great timing then, that today, Liam and I are moving to Alex’s place until we get the all-clear to go back home. This way, I’ll only have to be on pins and needles at the stadium. I can finally relax when I’m off duty.

  But he does have a kick-ass shower, even in the guest rooms, I think as I grab the expensive coconut-scented shampoo and lather my hair. There’s no way I could afford this brand on my salary, but I have no problem using it for my last shower here before I return to my small-life reality in my small house.

  I could literally stay under this rainfall showerhead all fucking day. Hell, the shower is big enough that I could move in, at least sit down for a spell on the built-in bench. It beats the hell out of my ranch house even when termites aren’t eating it from the inside out.

  Turning off the water, I grab a towel—one of the plushest towels I’ve ever felt—and dry myself off while I go over my list of things to do today. Liam is reading in his room, and he’s going to have to start packing his belongings. I’m not looking forward to that conversation.

  I use the seafoam green towel to dry my legs, thankful that I’ve managed to squeeze in some workouts in the team gym here and there. It wouldn’t do for a nutritionist to have flab on her. Thankfully, that’s not a problem for me.

  My hands slow near my waist, thinking back to walking in on Brady making a smoothie yesterday morning, fresh from his own shower. His hair still damp, toned chest glistening in the sunlight—I see why my sister fell so hard and fast for him and why he’s always been able to get any woman he wanted, which is probably why even if I showed him Lucy’s picture, he wouldn’t be able to remember her. She was just one of many for him.

  Dressed, I walk down the wide hallway toward Liam’s room. He always takes full advantage of these rare teacher workdays by lounging around the house doing absolutely nothing all day.

  “Hey, buddy,” I say as I simultaneously open the door and lightly knock on it. “Time to put the book down—”

  Only he’s not there. My heart momentarily stops. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare—not knowing where your child is. It’s too early to panic, but I’m primed for a freak-out if I don’t find him soon.

  I leave Liam’s room and walk down the seemingly endless hall, checking each room as I go. When I feel the vibrations notifying me of a text, I grab my phone and see that it’s from Alex. I unlock my phone to read her text: Hey, girlie. Headed back to town now. Can’t wait to see you and Liam at my place at 3. Gonna have so much fun!!!!

  Knowing Alex, she’s planned all sorts of fun boy stuff for our stay at her place. I start to text her back, but she can wait. I return my phone to my back pocket and continue my search.

  Liam’s made himself at home here, so he could be in any room.

  He loves it here. Who wouldn’t? It’s like a kid’s playground with the large-screen TVs, basketball court, even a few pinball machines in the game room.

  It’ll be hard to break it to Liam that we’re leaving, but he’ll take the change of plans like a champ. He’s a roll-with-the-punches little man—always has been.

  I’m halfway down the stairs, ready to search for a missing little boy, when I hear talking coming from the den. As I walk closer, I internally relax as soon as I hear Liam’s sweet laughter fill the house. The unmistakable sounds of a video game solve the mystery of why he abandoned his book.

  What boy can resist the call of Madden NFL? Arriving at the door, I’m about to push it open, but instead, I stop and listen.

  “You really learned how to play football from Madden?” Liam asks, moving his controller intently.

  “Well, not all of football—and I do know it all—but strategy, yeah, definitely,” Brady says, just as involved in the game. “I was about your age when I started playing, back when Madden was still on the covers. You can learn a lot from this game.”

  “When are you going to be on the cover?”

  “Maybe next year, if I keep playing like I am.”

  As I stand there and silently watch them play against each other, I’m struck by how alike they are. I’m looking at Brady and mini Brady sitting beside each other on the couch, each slightly hunched over, staring intently at the screen, their controllers clenched in their hands, which are curled around them in the same way. They are both s
ticking out their tongues ever so much as if that’ll help them concentrate and beat the other.

  It goes beyond just their movements, although if I knew how to play the game, something tells me their way of planning a game-winning strategy would be identical, just like their profiles and their jawlines. It’s eerie—not nearly as eerie as seeing a duplicate of Brady’s determined look copied onto Liam’s face.

  It’s like God himself clicked Ctrl + C on Brady, then clicked Ctrl + V on Liam.

  The thought of disappointing Liam with the news that we’re leaving here today crushes me, but, more than that, I wonder how Brady will react. In the short time we’ve been here, Brady and Liam have formed a friendship. If that was all it was, I wouldn’t be worried.

  But, the secret is always looming in the background.

  As it is now, I have to watch what I say around them, and I have to be especially vigilant when they’re together in the same room, like they are now. Liam knows something’s up with me. He’s asked me a few times why I seem tense, stressed out.

  If only I can tell him why…

  My phone vibrates with another text notification.

  “Hey, Izzie, come join us,” Brady says as I pull my phone out.

  “Actually, Liam and I—”

  And that’s when I see it. The second text from Alex: Shit, dude! My stupid upstairs neighbor flooded my bathroom. Maintenance is gonna have those big industrial fans going in here for a day or two. Postpone the sleepover? :(

  Fuck. What do I do now?

  “What, Mom?” Liam asks. “You wanna play me next?”

  “Why not,” I say, walking into the living room and sitting down with Liam between Brady and me. “I’ll take on the winner.”

  “Oh, you’re going down, Izzie,” Brady says, exchanging a high five with Liam.

  Chapter 19

  Brady

  It’s weird to think that just a few weeks ago, I was a bachelor living the laid-back bachelor life in my laid-back bachelor house. Well, technically, I’m still a bachelor. But lately, I’ve been feeling more like a family man.

  In the past few days that Izzie and Liam have been staying with me, we’ve all settled into a nice routine.

  It’s weird how boring and normal we all are. Izzie usually gets home from work a little before me. She cooks a special dinner that abides by my diet plan, and then we all sit down together and eat.

  Afterwards, we all watch TV together. Usually, it’s ESPN, but Izzie has a weird obsession with HGTV. Every night, she makes me watch at least one episode of House Hunters, which is the most baffling show.

  Basically, it’s just two idiots with unrealistic standards arguing over paint color. I’m not sure why Izzie loves it so much, but she does this adorable thing where she picks which house is her favorite. Sometimes, she’ll even ask me to pick a house and see if I can guess which one the two annoying homeowners will pick.

  “I think they’re going to pick the condo over the three-bedroom because the condo is closer to the city,” she tells me. “They always pick whatever is closest to work.”

  “That’s stupid,” I tell her.

  “Why?”

  “Because why pick a house they hate just to be closer to some job that they probably hate even more?” I jokingly argue with her. “Your house is your palace. Just pick the best fucking house possible. Doesn’t matter where it’s located.”

  We’ll then go back and forth about this for at least half an hour. Izzie will giggle, then catch herself, and stop giggling. It’s a weird thing she does. It’s like she wants to be close to me but not too close.

  Sometimes I wonder if she just got out of a relationship recently and doesn’t want to jump into another one so soon. If that’s the case, then it’s cool. But it does make me wonder why she just can’t say that instead of leaving me here in the dark.

  When we’re not watching TV, Izzie spends a lot of time cleaning. I guess she’s trying to be a good guest, but there’s really no reason for her to be wiping down the kitchen counters so much.

  The cleaner who comes by once a week even pulled me aside and asked me who keeps polishing the tables. It seems no matter how hard I try to make Izzie feel comfortable with being here, she’s always trying to overcompensate. She seriously needs to chill.

  But hey, I’m still a guy. I’m not gonna argue if a pretty girl wants to clean my mansion.

  Her nephew, Liam, though, seems to be adjusting just fine. Every day, he’s playing video games on my large screen TV or hammering it out on the foosball table.

  In a weird way, he kind of reminds me of myself—very competitive, very committed, and has awesome hair. He’s like the kid brother I never had.

  Honestly, I’m so comfortable with Izzie and Liam living with me that I hope those termites eat the whole house up. It’s so nice coming home to a place that’s bustling with life instead of empty beer bottles and forgotten thongs from groupies. I never thought I would ever admit to that, but that’s the God’s honest truth right there.

  In fact, today, to show my gratitude, I decided to bring home a little gift for Liam.

  When I walk into the house, I step into a cloud of awesome smell coming from the kitchen. Izzie is something else. I walk into the kitchen and see the back of her blonde head blending something up.

  “Hey, I’m home,” I announce. “What’s cooking?”

  “Carrot soup. It’s ready now, so go sit down at the table.”

  I walk into the dining room and collapse into the chair next to Liam, rustling his hair.

  “How’s school, little dude?” God, I really am starting to sound like a dad.

  “It’s good. You know, the usual.” His eyes are glued to his smartphone.

  Izzie comes out and places the pot of soup on the table.

  “Get it while it’s hot.” She starts ladling soup into our bowls like some kind of line cook.

  In the middle of dinner, I turn to Liam and ask him again about attending a home game.

  “Yo, Liam, you still haven’t been by the stadium yet. Have you, bud?”

  He shakes his head, not knowing where I’m going with this.

  “I think you should come by and check out the home game on Thursday. How does that sound?”

  His eyes beam with excitement. He turns and immediately looks at Izzie, giving her the pleaseeee? eyes.

  Izzie looks at the both of us as if she’s in the middle of a melodramatic telenovela and has to choose a suitor.

  “Well, I’m not sure,” she starts. “Liam has homework—”

  “I did some extra homework earlier this week,” Liam interrupts. “So my Thursday should be all free.”

  I slap my hands on the table in victory. “See?” I motion at Liam. “You’ve already planned ahead. That’s my man!”

  I give him a high five as Izzie looks on, confused.

  “So it’s all set then,” I announce as Izzie glares at me. “On Thursday, you’re gonna come watch the game, and we’re all gonna have an awesome time.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Izzie interjects. “All of this is a little too short notice. Liam and I are on a schedule ,and we weren’t planning on attending any games this week.”

  I shrug off Izzie’s comment because she’s clearly not making any sense.

  “Hey, Liam, I got a present for you...for the game.” I reach into the shopping bag I have stashed under the table and pull out a jersey.

  Liam blinks at it for a second, unsure who it’s for.

  “Dude, it’s for you!” I playfully throw the jersey over his head. “Put it on, you nerd.”

  He giggles as he puts the jersey on over his clothes. It’s a little too big, but he can grow into it.

  “This is so awesome!” Liam runs over and actually hugs me, which is kind of sweet. I look over at Izzie who I notice also looks touched by the whole thing.

  “Okay, boys,” Izzie throws her napkin on the table, “you win. Liam, you can go to the game this week. However, we’re using my tickets. N
o more freebies, okay? The jersey was enough. You’re going to spoil him.”

  I laugh as I spoon my last gulp of soup in my mouth. It’s so funny when I get under her skin. She likes to wrinkle her nose and burrow her brows like a frustrated chipmunk.

  I mean, it’s nice that she wants to look out for her nephew, and she cares about how well he does in school. But it’s just one game. How much harm can it do?

  Plus, if Liam has an interest in football, it’s important to start showing him the ropes early. That’s how I got my start.

  I have so many fond memories of going to football games as a kid. I would watch and obsessively study what all the players did and nitpick on what they didn’t do. If Liam wants to go pro one day, he can’t just sit at home doing his homework and playing Madden.

  After I finish my bowl, I stand up and start clearing the table.

  “Fine,” I tell Izzie. “You can use your own tickets. As long as he gets to come and wear his new jersey, I’m cool with everything.”

  Liam jumps up from the table. “I’m so excited! This is going to be so awesome. Thanks again for the jersey, Brady.”

  “No problem,” I shrug.

  As I head to the kitchen, I turn around and shoot a quick look at Izzie who, shockingly, is smiling at me. It’s a reluctant smile, but still a smile. Our eyes meet, and she quickly looks away and starts busying herself with clearing her dish.

  Maybe the way to Izzie’s heart is through Liam. It seems to be working.

  Liam’s a good kid, so I don’t mind helping anyway. But if doing something for Liam can allow Izzie to see me as someone other than some meathead who sleeps around a lot, then, hey, that’s a win in my book.

  Izzie

  Bliss. Total, complete, amazing bliss.

  I just dropped Liam off at a friend’s house for a sort of a make-up sleepover, since we didn’t get to go to Alex’s house. And with Brady out of town until tomorrow, it means that I have the entire evening to myself.

  I stop at the liquor store for a bottle of wine. Nothing super sophisticated, but hey, I don’t have anyone to impress tonight.

 

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