He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at me like he was trying to figure me out. Then he nodded. “I don’t know what happened at the party. I know something happened, but Addison is a grown woman and it’s not really my business. She holds a special place in my heart because she was married to my son. I love her dearly and I want her to be happy. She’s been through a lot. And I won’t watch her go through heartache again if I can help it.”
“Understood,” I answered, more out of respect than understanding, because I really didn’t know where all this was coming from.
“If you feel about her the way I felt about my Lisa, then you need to respect her timelines. Take things slow.” I nodded. “But she’s a good one. You’d be a fool to give her up without a fight.”
“Pee-paw!” Jax yelled, bounding back over in our direction. “Did you know people eat those things?” he said, crinkling his nose in disgust.
I cracked up and Mick rubbed his tummy. “Sounds yummy,” he said in a deep voice, making Jaxon giggle.
We continued on with our dinner, the topic of Addison never coming up again. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t still mulling it over in my brain. Even during my drive home, some of the things he said kept rolling around in my head. Especially the part about fighting for her.
Because damn it, for the first time ever, I was worried that I had finally found the one person, and her son, that were worth fighting for. And I’d be lying if I said that didn’t scare the ever-loving shit out of me.
Addison: Thank you for the jerseys. That was really sweet. I’m sorry I’ve confused you. I’ve confused myself, too. It won’t happen again.
What the hell?
I read over the text I had gotten last night for the umpteenth time. She had been ignoring me for days. But giving her and Jax a couple of jerseys is what finally gets a response?
I sighed and dropped my phone into my locker so I could finish getting dressed. I didn’t know how to answer her, but I figured I shouldn’t do anything rash. What I really wanted to reply with is “WTF?” But that wouldn’t do any good. I couldn’t figure her out, but that didn’t mean I was out for blood either.
I was tying my runners before hitting the weight room when Deuce came barreling through the door.
“WOOOOO!” he yelled at the top of his lungs and jumped to stand on top of one of the benches in the middle of the room. “CAN I HAVE EVERYONE’S ATTENTION, PLEASE?” The room got quiet while Deuce fidgeted around like he had to pee in his pants. He was definitely excited about something.
“I have an announcement to make. It appears,” he paused, “that I,” he paused again, “the stud muffin of the Dallas Cowboys,” another pause while the rest of the guys booed him. “Y’all, hang on, hang on, shut up for a minute,” he said, quieting everyone down again. “It appears that I have KNOCKED MY WOMAN UP!” He jumped off the bench amid the cheers of congratulations and started dancing, hands behind his head and gyrating his hips as he walked toward our lockers, getting pats on the back as he went.
“Congrats, man,” I said, giving him a manly hug. You know, two back pats and done.
“Man, my swimmers couldn’t hardly even wait until we got married,” he said excitedly, a big-ass smile on his face. “She was pregnant almost as soon as we got back from Bali and didn’t even know it!”
“When did she figure it out?” I asked.
“Yesterday,” he answered, trying to get dressed for our workout, but still bouncing around as he talked. “Her mama was over last night and Vanessa said the smell of the flowers you sent her was making her sick. Nice touch, by the way. It helped me out a lot.”
“No problem.”
“Anyway, her mom heard her say it and mentioned something about Vanessa having that ‘glow’, whatever the hell that means,” he said, waving his hands around animatedly. “So she sent me to the store to buy a bunch of pregnancy tests. Do you know how many different brands there are? I ended up buying fourteen of them. Fourteen! Every single one of them came up positive. You know why?” he asked.
“Why?” I asked, afraid to know his answer.
“Because my boys got game!” he yelled, bobbling around some more. “Those sticks didn’t just turn pink. They turned all blingy, neon signs, shooting-fireworks-out-the-top pink! Wooooo!” More teammates walked by, patting him on the back.
I laughed out loud. “That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you. Do you know when Vanessa is due?”
“Uh . . . she got on some baby website last night and did some calculations,” he said, throwing his clothes in his locker. “She thinks she figured out when my boys went in for the kill. So she said the baby should be here around May, I guess.”