Deflected (Texas Mutiny Book 4)

by M. E. Carter

  Shifting into him, it takes me a second to decide how to answer. “A little. It sounds really unsexy to talk about.”

  “Humor me,” he says with a kiss to my neck.

  “You know physically when I orgasm, my entire uterus tightens up, right?”

  “Mmhmm.” More kisses.

  “It’s like I can feel where the incision was. It doesn’t hurt or anything. It’s just… I don’t know. Maybe it’s tighter? That’s the only way I can describe it.”

  “But it still feels good?”

  A smile crosses my face. Leave it to my husband to be worried about my orgasms being good enough. “You mean you can’t tell by the look on my face?”

  He chuckles. “Wow. It must feel really good with the way your eyes roll in the back of your head.”

  I smack him lightly making him laugh. It’s good timing too. Cace starts shifting around and if the heavy feeling in my breasts is any indication, it’s time to feed.

  Before I even have to ask, Rowen is up and out of bed, crossing the room to pick up our son.

  “Good morning, mo mhac. Are you ready for some lunch? Mam’s got your milk all ready for you.”

  I smile at their one-sided conversations while I situate myself in bed, unclipping my nursing bra. Whoever thought to put clasps at the top of bra cups should win an award. It makes things so much easier.

  Handing him to me, Rowen gives me a quick peck on the lips followed by a quick peck on the top of my breast. “Enjoy those while you can, little man. I’m taking them back in about nine months.”

  Cace gurgles and waves his fists, eyes locked in on his target. As soon as he latches on, I grimace, the familiar tightening in my chest as my milk lets down. Thankfully, it’s short-lived, and very quickly, we relax into the moment.

  Rowen makes sure we’re all settled before kissing me on the top of the head and throwing on his sweats. “What do you want to eat? My mam brought bangers and mash.”

  “I’ll leave that for you,” I joke, knowing it’s his favorite. “But do we still have any of that grilled chicken salad? I don’t know why but it sounds really good.”

  “Yep. I’ll go grab it for you.”

  The last three months have been an adjustment, but overall, it’s gone really well. Cace is a great baby, but I didn’t expect anything less with him being Rowen’s child. Well, that’s not exactly true. A part of me always remembered Ryan is his grandfather, so I know there’s some ornery in there waiting to come out. But for the most part, he’s very docile. Cries when he’s hungry, fusses when he’s wet, but otherwise even-tempered.

  And my in-laws have been wonderful. Sure, the men argue all the time about the safest way to hold the baby or the best cleaning products. Denise and I just laugh at the ridiculousness and let them hash it out. In the end, as long as Cace is safe and happy, the rest is irrelevant anyway.

  Having her nearby has worked out much better than I thought it would. She’s very careful to not overwhelm us with her presence, but has been such a huge help, especially when Rowen is out of town.

  The first time he had a series of away games, Cace was only a week old. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage on my own, but Denise was at my house every day at eight in the morning to clean the kitchen, make sure I ate, and take care of the baby when I napped. A few times she did a load of baby laundry. But mostly she fed me and helped me where I needed it. I’m grateful she did. People forget that a C-section is still major surgery, even if they send you home three days later. It was tough carrying a baby around or bending down to pick up something I dropped. That’s where she came in. And with her gentle demeanor, it never felt imposing at all.

  Ryan, on the other hand, had to be left at home a few times. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration. More like Denise didn’t tell him she was coming over because he was a little too determined to build an indoor soccer goal in the baby’s bedroom. Once the obsession passed, we let him come over again. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to go back to work, so he can sneak in and complete the project.

  Situating himself back on the bed next to me, Rowen spears some lettuce and chicken on a fork and holds it up to me. “Open,” he demands, and I comply, taking a bite.

  “Mmm. That hits the spot,” I say around my chewing. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me. I’m just taking care of you.” He takes his own bite, and searches around the bowl for more goodness to give us. “Are you ready for today?”

  Taking another bite, I try to assess how I feel. It’s been three months since I’ve been at work, and while I’m excited to get back to my job, I’m torn up inside about leaving my baby behind. I was planning to only take eight weeks but couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him that soon. I didn’t expect to feel that way. I’m more comfortable now. Probably because I’m leaving him with Denise, the person who loves him the most after me and Rowen. I strongly believe having adult role models of various ages will be good for my son, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a tiny bit jealous of my mother-in-law for getting to be with him. Which is ridiculous, considering I’ve been with him non-stop for twelve weeks. And nine months before that if you count the time before he was evicted out of my body.

  “I think I am,” I finally admit. “It’s going to be weird at first, but I’ll be fine.”

  Rowen looks at me, snatching a small piece of lettuce off the fork, and clearly assessing my mood.

  “What?” I break from his gaze, as I shift Cace to the other side, but I know Rowen is still watching me. I can practically feel his eyes on me.

  “You trust me, right?”

  Furrowing my brows, I look at him like he’s lost his mind. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I just wanna make sure you’re not worried something is going to happen while you’re gone, or that I’m not going to notice if he needs something.”

  I small laugh bursts out of me. “Rowen, you are the last person I’m worried about not noticing if he needs something. You’re a bit of a helicopter parent already.”

  His jaw drops in mock incredulousness. “I am not.”

  “You were cheering him on when he pooped the other day,” I deadpan.

  “He was constipated! I was giving him encouragement. That can be painful.”

  “Whatever you say.” I snatch the fork from his hand and make a show of getting as much salad on it as I can. “It was funny at this age, but if you do things like that when this kid is ten, I’m going to start calling you by your dad’s name since that’s the type of shit he’d do.”

  “Tiffany! Language!”

  Pointing the fork at him, I rest my case. “And there’s the sound of the rotors now!”

  He snatches the fork from me again, grumbling about how he’s always loved air travel or something I’m only half listening to. The baby has fallen asleep, which is good timing. I have to get ready for work anyway or I’m going to be late.

  “What time do you go back to the stadium?” Quickly, I shift Cace onto the bed, grabbing a tiny diaper off the nightstand next to me.

  “I have to be back at two,” Rowen says, as he eyes the breast I’m working on covering up. Perv.

  “What time does the game start?”

  “Four. I wish you could be there.”

  I grab his cheeks and give him a big smack on the lips before handing off my son and climbing out of bed, Rowen swatting my rear as I go. “I know. Me too. But I’ll be cheering for you from my office. If you’re lucky, I might even ogle your ass,” I say over my shoulder, making him laugh, as I walk confidently to the bathroom for a shower. Time to balance motherhood and career.

  The snick of the lock unlatching when I wave my key fob in front of the door is the first real sign that life is going back to normal. Well, as normal as life can be after a new little human has come into the world. But as I step through the door and into the newsroom, I realize nothing has changed.

  The scanners are still squawking. Reporters are still making calls and typing. Televisio
ns still glow with every local station and CNN ready to be monitored. The only difference is the person at the assignment desk.

  “Hi Tom,” I greet as I grab a huge stack of mail I’ll need to sort through upstairs. There’s too much to go through down here.

  “Tiffany.” He tips his head at me and goes back to his business. Tom took over for Caleb when he moved upstairs. He’s a little older than everyone else in the newsroom. His hair and neatly trimmed beard are almost gray. He’s pleasant enough, just sticks to himself. We definitely don’t have the same kind of rapport Caleb and I use to have.

  That also means I don’t waste any time heading to my office. Caleb is already there, setting up. When he notices me walk in, his face lights up. “Tiffany!” There’s no hesitation when he gives me a strong hug. “Welcome back! We’ve missed you!”

  “Thanks. I’ve missed being here. Anything exciting happening today?”

  I lay my bags on the floor and carefully toss the mail onto my desk. I’m already dreading how many emails I’m going to have to go through.

  “Sunday Night Football, obviously. And then of course the Mutiny game.”

  I nod. “Good. Are we going to have a camera out there today?”

  “Yep. Nothing terribly exciting is happening in the news world, so Mannie and Jerold are already out doing pre-game interviews and getting some b-roll for the five o’clock show.”

  “Awesome.” Reaching into my bag for supplies, I grab the most important thing first—a small picture frame. Inside is a picture of my family of three at the hospital. Rowen and I are sitting on the bed, Cace in my arms. All three of us are wearing beanies. We decided if Cace was getting pictures taken with a hat on, we could make it a family thing. It’s my favorite picture of us and immediately goes next to my monitor, where I’ll see it all day every day.

  “What’s the extra bag for?” Caleb inquires. I know he’s about to regret asking, though.

  I look him dead in the eye, not wanting to miss his reaction. “That’s my breast pump.”

  The grimace he makes has me laughing out loud at the over the top expression. “Why did you tell me that? You could have lied to me.”

  “That wouldn’t have been very fun,” I say, wiping a tear from my eye.

  “At least tell me you won’t be using it in front of me.”

  I give him a pointed look. “Now, Caleb. Breastfeeding is a natural thing. You wouldn’t hate it if I just randomly whipped out my boobs for fun, would you?”

  He opens his mouth to deny it, then thinks better of it and shrugs in agreement.

  “Exactly. So you need to get over it. But,” I continue, “I can also respect that it’s going to take you a minute to not be squeamish, so don’t worry. I’ll find a cubicle somewhere to pump.”

  “Thank you.” He sounds way too relieved for a grown man who likes boobs in general. He won’t be relieved after my baby brain kicks in. I have to change out my nursing pads throughout the day, and sometimes I won’t realize they end up on his chair. Hell, I put the silverware in the fridge last night. No telling what will happen when I’m trying to multi-task.

  I shrug to myself at how fun this could end up being. Then I get right down to work.

  Three hours later, we’re watching the Texas Mutiny dominate over New England. It’s only the first half and already we’re up two to nothing. Daniel has been unstoppable today. If they keep this up, we’re going to the playoffs.

  Just as Rowen runs by, my phone dings with a text. It’s from Denise and has a picture of my baby grinning up at her.

  Just want you to know we’re doing fine and watching Daddy play soccer. Have a great day at work!

  I run my fingers over the picture of his little face and save it to my phone before dropping the device back on my desk. The picture frame I put out a couple hours ago catches my attention, and I have one of those moments where life is surreal.

  I’m watching my husband on television as he kicks ass at his dream job.

  I’m sitting here kicking ass at my own dream job.

  And my mother-in-law is spending some coveted time with my baby, making sure he’s happy and healthy and loved.

  It was a struggle to get here, but I really can have it all.

  Nailed it.

  The End

  Laurie Darter – You get the very first acknowledgement because Ryan wouldn’t be what he is without you. And he’s so fun. Thank you for your never-ending knowledge of an Irish immigrant’s dialect. And thank your family, too, for being stubborn and cussing a lot in Gaelic around you! Lol

  Megan Addison – I could not have made it through this release without you. Seriously. You are a gem and the best thing that ever happened to Andrea, which is how I found you. So thank you for all the organization and for talking me off the proverbial ledge.

  Andrea Johnston – I could thank you for a lot of things, but I think this sums it up: thank you for sharing Megan.

  Stacey Grice, Marisol Scott, Kate Spitzer, Katie Pettigrew – Thank you all for keeping me organized, making sure the details of this book were correct, finding plot holes, etc. You ladies are the best!

  Erin Noelle, Karen Lawson, Julie Titus – Thank for you for putting the shine on this baby! I think it turned out fabulous.

  Murphy Rae – Nailed it. HA! See what I did there???

  Mom – Since when have you been such a good proofreader? Thanks for doing the last minute once over! And you’re welcome for teaching you sex scene terminology.

  Carter’s Cheerleaders – My friends, my smart asses, my biggest fans. You guys brighten my day every day. Thank you for keeping it real and keeping me sane.

  The Walk – You know who you are. You know why you’re important. I love you ladies so much, it’s unreal. You are the biggest blessing I’ve had in this community. Keep walking the good walk, sisters.

  Thank you, God, for sticking with me through the hard, hard days. I can see that light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll keep putting one foot in front of the other and trust you got the rest.

  And thank you Tiffany and Rowen for being the last couple I expected to discover while sitting in my car during dance practice, researching derogatory terms for the word “groupie”. Never in my wildest dreams could I expect a story could turn my world upside down, change my perspective on how I look at others, and provide such massive amounts of wisdom we should all adhere to. You turned a single book about a soccer player into a series that helped me process through my own hard times. It’s been a fun, sometimes stressful ride. And it’s been worth every second.

  GO TEXAS MUTINY!

  Mother, reader, storyteller—ME Carter never set out to write books. But when a friend practically forced a copy of Twilight into her hands, the love of the written word she had lost as a child was rekindled. With a story always rolling around in her head, it should come as no surprise that she finally started putting them on paper. She lives in Texas with her four children, Mary, Elizabeth, Carter and Bug, who sadly was born long after her pen name was created, and will probably need extensive therapy because of it.

  You can follow her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/authorMECarter,

  on Twitter at https://twitter.com/AuthorMECarter,

  Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/authormecarter/?hl=en

  or email her at AuthorMECarter@gmail.com

  Other Titles by M.E. Carter

  Hart Series

  Change of Hart

  Hart to Heart

  Matters of the Hart

  Texas Mutiny Series

  Juked

  Groupie

  Goalie

  Megged

  #MyNewLife Series

  Getting a Grip

  Balance Check

  Pride & Joie

  Amazing Grayson

 

 

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