by Stella
Her eyes bugged, and I just nodded. “Does Gage know?”
“Nope. And I don’t have a clue how to tell him.”
“It’s none of my business, but how much are we talking about?”
“If I read the statements correctly—now mind you, they’re old because no one has touched any of this since she died—roughly two million dollars.”
Ellie spat her coffee all over me and the table. “Oh God, I’m sorry.” She grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped my face off like she would Corinne’s. “What are you going to tell him?”
I shook my head and held her stare. “I don’t have a clue. He’s going to be crushed. And after everything else that’s happened, I can’t tell him while he’s on the road and risk having him shut me out again.”
“Honestly, Katie. I really don’t think he’s going to care.”
“How can you say that? His only living relative gave her entire inheritance to her nurse.” My voice was more animated than Corinne was comfortable with. She eyed me like she was going to start bartering for more candy to ensure her silence.
Ellie shrugged and fidgeted with the napkins in her hand. “Because I don’t think he cares about money, Katie. I don’t know the details of his contract, but he’s played pro ball for years. You’ve seen that ugly Jeep he drives. And while his house is nice, it’s not extravagant—it’s actually smaller than this place and on a lot less land. Gage has more money than he knows what to do with. The house holds his memories, not the bank accounts.”
Everything she said made sense. Gage wasn’t a big spender. In fact, now that she mentioned it, other than what he’d spent to refinish the floors and replace some furniture here—oh, and I can’t forget Mac—he never bought anything.
She put her hand on top of mine. “I agree you need to wait to tell him in person, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d shower you with anything you asked for. Money isn’t his motivator.”
“What is?” Might as well ask while I had someone offering information.
“You.” Her answer was simple. There was no hesitation, no reservation, nothing—just one word that held more meaning than a thousand she could have strung together.
Before I could say anything else, Corinne returned from wherever she’d wandered off to and patted Ellie on the thigh.
“Yes, sweet pea?”
I saw it before Ellie did. Corinne turned her gorgeous, curly brown locks toward her mom, and buried at the scalp was the sucker I’d given her with the stick pointing straight out. It would have been funny had I not worried Ellie would be angry with me. Which in turn would make Gage mad.
She sighed and picked the lollipop out of her daughter’s hair, strand by strand. Once she had it untangled, she threw it in the trash which sent Corinne into a fit of tears. “We’re going to get out of your way. Please call him. I can’t handle listening to him and Coby.”
“I will. I promise.”
I’d managed to keep Gage from thinking there was anything wrong for the last few days by feigning exhaustion and focusing on the ultrasound I had scheduled this morning. Another one he’d miss. It wasn’t his fault, and there was no denying how much it bothered him that he wouldn’t be there. I wasn’t trying to play on his emotions, it just happened to coincide with my Granny issue, so I talked about it instead.
“Katiebug, everything’s going to be fine. I bet when you go in today your balloon will be huge and your sticker stretched.”
Thank God I got the analogy, or that might have been offensive. “I just wish I didn’t have to go alone.” I didn’t say that kind of thing to him often. It wasn’t fair. Gage didn’t choose not to be a part of things, he just couldn’t when he was in another city doing his job. The same job that currently paid my salary.
“Call Ellie.”
“She has three kids, Gage.”
“And a husband who doesn’t work.”
“He’s a teacher.”
“What’s your point?”
“None of them work during the summer.”
“Then he can babysit his own children. Ellie could use the break.”
“I’m not calling Ellie. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you taking Mac?”
“You realize it’s a car and not a person, right?” He’d personified a ton of metal in our garage.
“I hope you haven’t let her hear you say that.”
Moving on. “It’s not like I have another choice. I’m certainly not driving that green death trap.”
“If you don’t like Mac, why don’t you go buy another car? You got paid, didn’t you? Bill said he’d take care of it.”
“Yeah, I did. But I don’t know anything about cars or what to buy.” My gaze lowered to my lap. “I thought maybe we could go look when you came home.”
“Sure, Katiecakes. Any idea what you want?”
“An Accord or a Camry, maybe?” I shrugged. I really didn’t have a clue. I’d been driving the same car since high school, and it was a hand-me-down from an uncle who’d gouged me on the price.
“Are you an aspiring criminal?”
“What?”
“Why not something a little more flashy? Something with some personality, pizzazz?”
“What does my car have to do with criminal activity?”
“You might not want something that stands out if you’re robbing a bank or pulling a heist at a jewelry store. I mean, if it were me, and I was choosing a getaway car, I’d pick something there’s a million of, like a Camry—but not red.”
My mouth hung open, and I stared at him in total disbelief.
“I have a friend who could totally build the hell out of a Camry or even a Buick, and it would be a total sleeper. If you’re into crime, cars, guns, and drugs, I’m sure he’d hook you up. Maybe even turbocharge it. Your history in the underworld could use a little help.”
“I’m not looking for a vehicle that will avoid police detection.”
“That’s good because nobody under the age of sixty-five is sporting a Buick. There are way better cars for a lot less money. Buicks belong to geriatric banking wieners.”
“I just thought a Camry was practical.”
“If you want practical, then how about a nineteen-eighty-two Honda Civic FE. Great gas mileage: forty-five in the city and fifty-five on the highway. Rusty—that’s my car guy—could probably find one for a steal, beef it up, and turn that beast into a hog.”
“So you think I should get an older used car?” Following Gage was like throwing a bouncy ball against a wall as hard as I could and then trying to track where it went.
“Retro-tap cars are the new hotness.” There were times I wondered if Gage hung around a bunch of tweens I was unaware of.
“Did you say your car guy’s name is Rusty?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Your financial guy is Bill. Your attorney is Cort. And you’re talking to me about a guy who works on old cars named Rusty. Don’t you find that the slightest bit ironic?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Never mind.”
“He’s a millennial. I can’t help his name.”
I raised my brows and dove into Gage’s world headfirst. “If we got a car through him, we could name it Millennial Falcon.”
“That would only work if it were a boat. Leave the names to me.”
I shook my head in utter disbelief that I was even having this conversation.
“Speaking of names. Where are we on the list for our son? I’m still voting for Lenix.”
“Lenix is not even a consideration.”
“Why don’t you let me name this one, and you can have free reign on baby number two?”
I wasn’t even through this pregnancy, and he wanted to negotiate terms on another one. “I’ve got to go, Gage. My appointment is in an hour, and I still have to find something to wear other than your sweatpants and a tank top.”
“When are you going to buy some plus s
izes?”
“If you were here, I’d smack you with a plus size.”
“You need clothes, Katie.” He’d suddenly gone stern, which made me giggle.
“We can talk about it later.”
“Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be on the field, but Coach told me I could keep my phone on me until game time so I can get the latest update.”
My heart skipped a beat, and the baby turned in excitement. It shouldn’t be a big deal, everyone knew Gage was having a baby—well, that I was having Gage’s baby. Yet somehow, the fact that he’d finagled a deal with his coach so I could contact him after the ultrasound meant the world to me. If I didn’t hang up soon, I’d start crying like I did every time I saw a Hallmark commercial. Thank God it wasn’t Christmas, I’d never survive the ones Folgers put out.
“I will. Good luck this afternoon.”
“Be careful. And be nice to Mac.”
I shook my head and ended the call.
Two hours later, I tried to call him about the doctor’s appointment and got his voicemail. My guess was the stadium was noisy, and he couldn’t hear it ring.
Me: A little progress. Not much change. Baby is good. Another appointment in four weeks.
Sperm Donor: Chin up, buttercup. Everything’s going to work out.
Chapter Twelve
Katie
“I tell you, Mark, I’m blown away by the overwhelming support of Gage Nix’s fans. With him back home in Tuscaloosa, everyone’s hoping to see him around town with his long-time girlfriend, Katie Crisp.”
Standing behind the sofa, I quirked my eyebrow at the television. What they should have said was they were shocked they hadn’t been able to tear me down and Gage away. And I had no idea where they got this “long-time girlfriend” from, unless they’d mistaken Missy and me. Gage ate up the positive attention, while I just wished he’d turn it off. I had him home and didn’t want to share him any more than I had to.
He was stretched out from one end of the couch to the other, shirtless in just a pair of basketball shorts. My mouth watered at the sight of his bare chest and toned stomach, and his chiseled arms left me craving something I couldn’t have. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he reached his hand over the back of the sofa for me to take.
“Why are you watching that?” I followed his lead as he circled his arm over his head to bring me in front of him.
“Crunchy, my entire career has been nothing but sex, scandal, and half-truths. Women have clawed at girls I’ve gone out with, I’m constantly under a microscope, and at one point, the Titans believed I’d sold their secrets to a tabloid. And before you ask, no, I didn’t.” He turned onto his side so I could sit in front of him. “So now that the press has decided we’re this year’s golden couple, I’m going to enjoy it.”
“I just wish they’d leave us alone.” I tried to slouch in defeat, yet it got harder and harder to slump the bigger my belly became. Soon I’d be bent over backward trying to stay upright.
He placed both hands on my stomach and leaned up to kiss me just above the navel. “This right here will forever keep your name on their lips. Might as well give them something to boost ratings.” Gage leaned back with his arm behind his head. The cocky smirk that normally adorned his face had been replaced by a dopey grin.
“I guess if they’re going to talk about us, I’d rather it be good than dredging up our pasts.”
“No skeletons left in my closet for them to uncover. My twenties were a nightmare.”
“You really think America loves a domesticated Home Run King?”
“So you admit I’m royalty?” His eyes danced when he wagged his brow.
“Self-proclaimed, sure.”
“What do you say we go shopping today?”
I was sure Gage had an angle, I just hadn’t figured it out yet. “For a car?”
“No, clothes. You have a car. And right now, you look homeless. A king can’t have his queen wearing ratty T-shirts and oversized sweatpants.”
“No, you have two cars. Who cares what I wear? If Mila Kunis can carry a Gucci bag to dress up lounge pants and flip-flops, why can’t I?”
“Because you don’t have the bug-eyed sunglasses to go with it.”
“I can order a pair from Amazon.”
He sat up, pulled one leg around my hip, and straddled me. His arms circled my belly to pull me against his chest. The heat from his breath tickled the side of my neck and sent a chill across my skin. I’d give anything to be able to take this a step further to silence his argument and quench my thirst.
“Or, you can let me take you shopping. Think of it as PR. You’d be doing me a favor. My image is important.”
“Is that how you’re going to spin this?”
“The public wants to see more of us. All three of us—together.” Only Gage believed Major League Baseball fans wanted to see him shopping for maternity wear with a woman he wasn’t in a relationship with.
His hands slid from my stomach, down my hips, and around to my inner thighs. My body tensed when his thumbs lightly traced my center, and I dropped my head back onto his shoulder with a lust-induced sigh. The feather-like kisses he placed on my neck sent me into overdrive… “Fine. You win. This is torture.”
I jumped up, unable to withstand his teasing, and he followed, turning me toward him. His palms captured my jaw and tilted my chin up where I found him gazing at me with a look I was afraid to identify, even though my heart wanted to claim it. Falling for Gage was dangerous territory I wasn’t ready to consider exploring, yet having him this close, with all his walls down, I fought a losing battle.
My eyes fluttered shut as he leaned down, capturing my mouth with his in a sensual, intimate kiss. His tongue slowly explored mine, and I ached to be close to him, pressed against him with nothing between us. However, his son was currently cock blocking both of us, and I was frustrated as hell. I broke away, breathless and needing to step back. But Gage refused to let me get far and leaned his forehead on mine. For some undetermined amount of time, the two of us just stood in the moment, together.
Without taking my eyes off his, I whispered, “Are you sure you want to be seen shopping for maternity clothes?”
“Chicks dig it. The only things that could make me more desirable would be a ring on my left hand and my son in my arms.” His eyes glittered with humor, and the lines around them attested to his happiness.
“Chicks dig it?” Sarcasm laced each word, and I struggled not to roll my eyes or poke my finger down my throat. Gage was starting to have a real effect on my maturity level. Soon, I’d be sticking out my tongue when I didn’t get my way.
He leaned back, taking my hips in his hands. “Are you kidding? Married men with babies are magnets for women.” The expression on his face was priceless—like I was the only woman in the world who found his claim outrageous.
Married men were taken, not available options at the meat market—regardless of how appetizing their rump roast looked.
I just shook my head in disbelief and turned to go upstairs to make myself look presentable enough for the public eye. Before my foot hit the first step, I called over my shoulder, “You better not ever use our son to pick up hoes.”
“One of these days, you’re going to realize the only other women in my life are Stevie and Mac,” he hollered as I proceeded up the stairs. “And Corinne and Ellie.” There was silence before he added, “I swear, that’s it.”
“I don’t understand how you haven’t fallen madly in love with Mac.” Gage caressed the leather steering wheel seductively. “She’s sleek and elegant.” The dreamy state of his voice concerned me.
“Is that how you like your women?”
He jerked his head to me. “Nah, knocked up and barefoot works for me.” He added a wink to soften the blow. “Seriously, this girl has all available accessories on the market.” Gage played with the lids on the cup holders and pressed every button he could find while we sat at a red light. “You realize you’re like the o
nly woman in America who would turn down an Escalade.”
“It’s worth too much, and it’s not mine. I would never forgive myself if something happened to it.”
“They’re safer than a car. You need something bigger than a Camry. How about a truck?”
“With a baby?”
“Good point. Surely there’s another SUV on the market you like.”
“Not that I’m willing to pay for.”
“So you admit there is one?”
“Of course, everyone has a dream car, right?”
“What’s yours?”
“I’m not telling you.” I stared straight ahead and crossed my arms on top of my baby bump that more closely resembled a table than I cared to admit. If I started setting dishes on it, I was in trouble.
“Why not?” He tried to act hurt, but I knew his game.
“Because the next thing I know, there will be one parked in the driveway.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Cars are expensive, Gage.”
“Why are you so worried about money, Carbon Katie?”
I wasn’t, not in the way he thought anyway. There was plenty available to me, yet I still didn’t want anyone to think I’d gotten pregnant to get a free ride. And there was also the small issue that I hadn’t mentioned Granny’s will.
“I think spending as much on a car as someone spends on a house is insane.” I paused to look for the store. “Oh”—I pointed toward the shopping center we were going to—“that’s it.”
Gage squinted at the sign and shrugged. I didn’t bother asking what had him perplexed for fear he might tell me, and then we might never get out of the car. After he parked, he came around to the passenger side and helped me out. I grabbed my purse, threw it over my shoulder, and closed the door. No sooner had I taken a step, Gage laced his fingers through mine. And it was then that I realized Gage was making a statement, a public declaration, not just for his fans, but for me. This was his way of ensuring the world knew, Gage Nix was no longer on the market.