by Nikki Ash
Smiling, I find a pillow and sheet sitting on the couch. She must have put it here after our text exchange. I sit back and throw my legs up on the worn cushions. When I close my eyes, I see them on the bed. I see Rowan in her arms, his dark eyes gazing up at his mother with so much trust and innocence. I see Ashtyn smiling, her face so full of love and adoration for one tiny human.
And then I see me, right there in the middle of it.
For the first time in my life, I fall head over heels in love.
Chapter Eight
Ashtyn
It’s been two weeks since I confirmed to Tate he was Rowan’s father, and do you know what? He’s been here every moment he can. Sure, his personal training schedule is starting to pick up now that we’re approaching July, but when he’s not at the facility’s gym or team meetings, he’s here.
Alex, on the other hand, has been crazy busy. When he returned to St. Louis, he was immediately shipped out to scout and negotiate for a new kicker. He was gone a week, meetings with agents and players, and since he’s been back, he’s had meetings almost nightly.
The plus side to that is I haven’t had to have an awkward conversation with him about Rowan’s father.
The downside is I haven’t had that conversation, and I’m afraid he’s going to show up at my house when Tate is here.
Tate and I decided last night we’d tell him this coming Saturday at dinner. Tate wanted to tell him alone, but I insisted I be there. I know my brother. He’s most likely going to be upset, but if he sees I’m okay, it’ll help soothe the rough waters when he finds out it’s his best friend who fathered his sister’s baby. No sister ever wants to talk about who she sleeps with to her brother.
Speaking of sleeping, Tate has been here most nights.
On my couch.
He gets up and does midnight diaper changes before handing Rowan over for his feeding. Who would have thought? The infamous Tate Steele, bad boy, playboy extraordinaire, a pro at changing diapers. He brings me water and snacks, and on several occasions, has rubbed my back while standing in the kitchen. In fact, he seems to do whatever he can to touch me. Not grabbing my ass, as I’d expected, but those little grazes of his shoulder along mine or the gentlest swipe of his thumb over the apple of my cheek. It’s messing with my girl-brain. Mostly because I like it so much.
He’s often gone though in the morning when I get up for the day, heading off to a team workout. However, the coffee pot is always on, a clean cup sitting right in front of it, ready to go.
It’s weird, really. Never once has he left to go out. I’m accustomed to seeing his photo splashed across every tabloid in the country hanging out at a bar or club, but he hasn’t seemed to miss it. Granted, it’s only been two weeks, but I don’t get the impression he has one foot out the door. At least, not yet.
We’ve had plenty of awkward conversations, and a few that just outright pissed me off. Like last week when he came over with Chinese food and insisted I move in with him. Talk about an explosion of epic proportions. When it didn’t seem to go the way he thought, he offered to buy me a house. Something bigger, newer, and in a gated community. While I listened to his valid reasons for wanting us both safe and taken care of, it was my refusal that won in the end. I don’t want a white knight to swoop in and buy me things. I want a partner, someone to help with those late-night feedings, or to tell me it’s okay to cry at the thought of going back to work. We compromised with Tate promising not to overstep and just react with his wallet, and I’ll make sure to listen to his concerns.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know he’s a great dad. Rowan is lucky to have him.
Today is a big day for our little man. His four-week checkup with his pediatrician, which means more shots. I’m terrified already, hating the prospect of seeing him cry. Tate volunteered to go with me, which is good and bad. I’m glad to have the support, but also know outings with someone like Tate can be a little dangerous. He’s recognized easily as the starting quarterback of the local professional team. Plus, his face is on the cover of just about every magazine or tabloid on a monthly basis. No way will we go unnoticed.
At ten until two, his SUV pulls into the driveway. I already have Rowan in his car seat, recently fed and changed. I’ve got his diaper bag packed—probably overpacked, actually—with everything he could need for the next hour or two. I open the front door before he has a chance to enter the code, and he’s all smiles.
He’s also freshly showered and smells amazing. And he’s sporting a ballcap on his head, which I’ve never seen before, but somehow seems to make him look even hotter.
“Hey,” he says, kissing me on the cheek before going over to say hello to his son. His now-familiar aftershave hits my nose and my girly bits react, like usual. I haven’t had sex in closing in on a year, and my lady parts aren’t too happy about that. They’ve taken notice of everything Tate does, every cock of his eyebrow, each arrogant grin he sends my way. I’ve resorted to taking longer showers just to get me through the day.
“Hi,” I reply, my voice coming out a little squeak.
“Ready?” he asks, grabbing the baby carrier and diaper bag.
“I can get that,” I insist, but he just smiles.
“I got it, Sweetness.”
I climb into the passenger seat of his fancy SUV. It has butter-soft leather seats and more gadgets than I’ve ever seen in a vehicle. Tate clicks the carrier into the base, the one he installed a week ago. We’ve only used it once before today, when we decided to go for a ride one evening to get out of the house.
It takes us about twenty-five minutes to get to the doctor’s office. Originally, I had been looking for a doctor a little closer to home, but the recommendations to Healthy Beginnings Pediatrics couldn’t be ignored. Dr. Townsend is amazing, and I’m so glad I chose her.
We enter the cheerful building, and I approach the front counter. “Can I help you?”
“Rowan Harris,” I reply, but realize quickly the receptionist isn’t paying any attention to me. I glance over my shoulder and see why. Tate is behind me, slightly bent over, and carefully slipping Rowan out of the carrier.
“Is that…” she asks, her words so full of excitement and wonder.
I clear my throat, refusing to confirm what she already knows. The receptionist with the name Kami on her nametag blushes as she glances back to her computer screen. “Yes, Rowan Harris,” she says, her eyes quickly darting once more over my shoulder. I mean, I get it. He’s hot but come on. Ogle my baby daddy after you check in my son for his appointment, please.
“Am I set?” I ask, unable to mask my annoyance.
“Oh, uh, please sign here, authorizing us to bill insurance,” Kami says, doing her darndest to no look at Tate again. I sign it quickly. “You’re all set. Have a seat and you’ll be called back in a few moments.”
I head over to where Tate sits. Immediately, I notice two other moms in the room staring at Tate. Sighing, I take a seat beside him.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers, his smiling eyes locked on Rowan’s.
“You’re being recognized. This was a bad idea,” I mumble, realizing we could be in big trouble. No one has a cell phone out—yet—but it’s only a matter of time.
“It’s not a bad idea, Ash. It’ll be okay,” he says, pulling his ballcap down even lower.
Fortunately, we don’t have to wait long. A friendly nurse calls us back, and if she recognizes Tate, she doesn’t say anything. We stop at a baby scale, and she turns to take Rowan from Tate. “Ready to go, little guy?” she asks, carefully placing him on the scale. She removes his onesie outfit before taking his official weight and measuring him from top to bottom. “Okay, Mom, you can grab him and follow me into the exam room.”
We go through a series of questions, the nurse making notes on her tablet, before telling me to hang tight. “Dr. Townsend will be in shortly.”
Tate sits down beside me and glances around nervously. “So, now what?”
“Well, now we wait for the doctor. She’ll come in and do a quick exam to make sure he’s where he needs to be, and then the nurse will come back in for immunizations.”
“Shots.”
I nod, my throat suddenly so dry it’s hard to swallow.
Tate reaches over and takes my hand. He runs his rough thumb over my knuckles. “It’ll be okay, Sweetness. He’s tough like me,” he says, giving me that cocky half-grin that feels like a bolt of lightning between my legs.
There’s a knock on the door right before Dr. Townsend enters the room. “Good afternoon, Ashtyn. How’s Rowan?”
“He’s doing well. His nursing schedule has finally leveled out.”
“Good,” she says, checking over the tablet in her hand. “He’s gaining weight perfectly. How many times is he getting up at night?”
“Three?”
“Actually, the last few nights, it’s only been twice a night,” Tate says, drawing the doctor’s attention.
She gives him a polite smile. “I’m Dr. Townsend, and you are?”
“Tate Steele, Doctor. I’m Rowan’s father.”
She nods and makes notes on her tablet again. I’ve never said Tate’s name in any of the paperwork here, or at the hospital. He’s not listed on the birth certificate, since I thought he wanted nothing to do with Rowan. Now, here he is, making a declaration to our son’s pediatrician. “Well, nice to meet you.”
Dr. Townsend does Rowan’s exam. He’s not too happy to be uncovered, but the moment the exam is complete, Tate scoops him up and holds him against his chest. “Do you have any questions for me before we get to the dreaded part of today’s appointment?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I reply.
“Actually, I do,” Tate says, drawing both mine and the doctor’s attention. “I would like to order a paternity test.”
My eyes widen and my mouth drops to my knees. Tate quickly turns to me and adds, “It’s not what you think. I know he’s my son, but I was talking to my attorney earlier and he said we have to confirm paternity before I can establish rights.”
I can feel the doctor’s eyes glancing back and forth. “If you’re both interested in confirming paternity, I can submit an order to a hospital for testing. We’ll have the results back by Friday. You’d then submit those results to the Family Support Division of the Department of Health. They’ll take it from there.” She pauses before adding, “I’ll give you two a minute.”
As soon as the door closes, Tate crouches in front of me, our son still in his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention this earlier. I started to do some research last night when I couldn’t sleep. I know I’m his father, but I want to make sure everything is established as so. If something happens to me, God forbid, I want everything to go to Row. I want to immediately start paying you support too, and my attorney said this is the step we need to take.”
I exhale slowly. “Okay, yeah, it makes sense.”
“We’re telling Alex Saturday night at dinner, and your parents are coming for another visit soon to house hunt, right? I want to call them and my parents this weekend too. I’d also like to do an addendum to his birth certificate, if you’re okay with that. I want to be his father in every way possible, Ash. Including on paper.”
I give him a small smile before my eyes drop to our son. “You seem to have thought a lot about this. He’s a lucky little boy,” I whisper, reaching out and running my finger across his dimpled chin.
“No, I’m the lucky one.”
I glance up and our eyes meet. I always said it was only possible in cheesy romcom movies from the eighties, but time actually stands still. I’m not sure who moves first, but his palm caresses my cheek at the same moment our lips meet. His mouth is warm and oh so inviting, as he masterfully slides his lips against mine.
Unfortunately, we’re interrupted by another knock. Dr. Townsend and the nurse enter the room, both with sheepish grins on their faces, as we pull apart. I turn to face the doctor and say, “Let’s go ahead with the order for paternity.”
She nods. “I’ll send it in. They work on a walk-in basis, and all the details are on the back of this information sheet.” I take the offered paper. “Now, shall we get to the hardest part of the appointment?”
Chapter Nine
Tate
Pulling out of the team facility, I gun the engine, loving how it goes from zero to too fast in seconds. I haven’t driven my car much in the last few weeks, mostly because I was choosing to be a little more inconspicuous when I’m over at Ashtyn’s and drive the SUV.
Today, I had a meeting with the front office regarding my contract. It’s up for negotiations at the end of this season, and I’m anxious to sign for a few more years. I want to finish out my career with the Fire. It’s not logical, really, but I’ll do whatever I can to stay put. One thing I have going for me is I’m at the top of my game. Postseason appearances the last four seasons and a divisional championship last year. I’m one determined motherfucker to get my team to the big game this season.
I want that ring.
When I reach a stoplight, my phone pings with a text. I shot a message to Ash to let her know I was leaving and heading her way. I’ve got to stop by my penthouse, grab more clothes, and switch cars, but I’m anxious as hell to see her and Rowan. I didn’t sleep for shit last night in my bed. The first night in more than a week I didn’t stay, but with the early meetings and workouts, she thought I’d be better if I was rested and refreshed going into my day. Little does she know I didn’t sleep well at all in my large, king-sized mattress with fancy Egyptian sheets. All I wanted to do was be on her couch, tossing and turning, and catching little naps all night long.
I pull up my screen and find a picture. It’s of Row, little fist under his chin and his mouth hanging open as he sleeps. She captioned it “Milk drunk.”
My grin is wide as I gaze down at the little guy.
My son.
A horn honks behind me, so I quickly deposit my phone back into the cup holder and drive. My heart is light and my smile wide as I head through the streets toward my place. A few miles from where I live, my phone rings. I glance at the dash to see my best friend’s name. I quickly accept the call.
“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” I ask.
“What the fuck are you doing with my sister?” His words are low, almost a growl, and stop my heart.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Steele. Is it true?”
I’m taken aback by his words. I have a pretty damn good idea what he’s talking about, but my mind can’t wrap around it. “Is what true?” I ask, my words filled with dread.
“Playboy QB a Dad. Steele Settling Down. Baby Makes Three for Fire QB. That’s what the headlines say, Tate. So why don’t you tell me why you’re in all of these photos, with my sister and my nephew.”
“Headlines?” I ask, pulling my car into the first parking lot I can find. When I grab my phone, I see incoming texts from Todd, but I ignore them. Instead, I pull up my internet search engine and type in my name. “Fuck,” I mumble, as link after link pops up, all new within the last thirty minutes.
“Yeah, fuck. What the hell is going on?” Alex demands.
My mind is racing. “I need to get to Ashtyn’s,” I state, turning around in the lot and heading in her direction.
“I’m already on my way there.”
“Please don’t…just wait until I get there, Alex.”
“Oh, you bet your fucking ass I’m gonna wait until you get there.” Then the line goes dead.
“Fuck!” I yell, slamming my hand down on the steering wheel. I knew I should have just told him before now. Too many people saw us earlier in the week at Rowan’s doctor’s appointment. I should have insisted on talking to him way before tomorrow night. I messed up, and that’s on me.
As I fly through the streets, I pull up my phone and call Todd. “Where have you been?”
“I just left the training facility,” I tell him.
“This i
s a nightmare, Tate. It’s everywhere,” he says. I can hear him clicking away on his keyboard.
“How’d it get out? I don’t even have the results yet, so how did the media get them?”
“I’m trying to pinpoint the source. My guess either the lab or the doctor’s office, but my gut says it’s the latter. Labs are pretty fucking airtight when it comes to test results.”
“How do we control this?”
“We’re already working on it, Tate. At this point, I don’t see how we can contain it. It’s already trending on social media and we’re getting calls for comments from national news agencies.”
I briefly close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Protecting Ashtyn and Rowan is my top priority, Todd.”
“I hear ya. We’re going to have to make a statement. I’ve got Jenn and Olivia coming in to help prep something. I’ll fire it to your email as soon as it’s ready,” he answers, still clicking away on his computer.
“Thanks.”
“We should have talked about this before now, Tate. We could have prepared something and been ahead of the news. It’s always better coming from the source, but now we’re behind and scrambling.”
I sigh, finally turning onto Ashtyn’s street and instantly noticing extra cars. “Shit, I gotta go. It looks like they’ve already found out where Ash lives.”
“I’m working on it now. You’ll have an email within the hour.”
“Sounds good,” I say, signing off.
The moment my car approaches her house, the people gathering on the sidewalk start to move my way. I pull into her driveway, careful not to hit anyone, yet not giving a shit if I do. Alex’s car is already there, so I park beside him and get out.