“It means they want me to play midfielder. They’re offering me a three-year contract.” A smile finally plays on his lips, reality starting to kick in. “I’ve dreamed of playing major league soccer for such a long time, but—”
“But nothing.” I place my hand on his, squeezing it tight. “I’m so proud of you. Where do you need us and when?”
Chance laughs as if he’s in on the private joke.
Damn these boys and their soccer knowledge.
“Here.” Olly grins. “The home ground is thirty minutes away.”
With Alexander on my lap, I lean as close as possible to squeeze into Olly’s embrace. This is such amazing news. At times, the traveling back and forth from Australia has proved exhausting. Knowing we can spend more time in the States has lifted my mood.
Chance brings a bottle of scotch to the table. “This calls for a celebration.”
Aubrey’s face widens in shock, her hands instantly clutching her stomach.
“Holy shit… it’s time.”
“Time for what?” Chance asks, oblivious to his wife and still pouring the scotch.
“My water just broke.”
Time is of the essence.
Chance races next door to grab Aubrey’s bag while Olly loads Aubrey into the van. I stay behind with Alexander and CJ, panicking myself as the memory of giving birth comes crashing like torrential waves.
Outside, I reassure Aubrey that CJ will be fine with us for as long as we need to take care of him while she goes and has the baby. I go as far as to let her know Pixy is even welcomed to stay over.
After the rush of getting her to the hospital, Olly collapses on the sofa, and I fall beside him. The two of us watch CJ sit beside Alexander who’s propped up in his little baby chair. He runs his monster trucks in front of him, goading a spurt of giggles as he makes loud noises.
“I wish I had a brother. My sisters were too feminine and made me dress up in ballerina clothes.” Olly sighs.
I cover my mouth, hiding my laughter. “I know, Matilda showed me the picture. Pink really goes well with your skin tone.”
“Seriously, emancipation looks really good right now.”
We continue to watch them until I try to remember the date, so I can note it as baby Bateman number two’s birthday. The harder I try to remember and count, a sinking feeling begins to creep in. “Oh my God.” I jump off the sofa, racing toward the kitchen. The calendar is stuck to the refrigerator. My hands glide across it, counting the days.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, fighting off the distraction. “Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five—”
“Okay, I think I know how to count,” Olly complains.
“I’m seven days late.”
“No…”
The adrenaline floods my system like it’s on an intravenous drip. My eyes stare widely at the calendar counting once again to prove my counting skills are wrong. Still thirty-five. My heart is ready to explode, yet I’m completely frozen to the spot.
“Come with me, quick.” Oliver pulls me into the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind us. He rips my blouse open and unlatches my bra.
“This is hardly the moment to have sex, the kids—”
“You’re pregnant.”
“You’re trying to have sex with me.”
“I know your body with my eyes closed. The swell of your breasts.” He turns me around to face the mirror. They’re engorged. I hadn’t even noticed. “Baby, you’re expecting.”
“I’m pregnant…”
“Do you know what this means?” The surge of happiness consumes him as he turns me back around, his eyes shining with hope.
“No more sleep?”
I button my blouse on the verge of tears. I think I have it together until a lonesome one escapes, and the flood gates officially open.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because two under two? I can’t do this.”
“There’s no I in team, Gabs. You don’t have to do anything alone. That’s why I’m here. Our best friends are next door. That’s why Ma and Pa come stay with us, and why Miles and the twins bought that beach house at Laguna Beach. We have the best support network anyone could ask for.”
Olly’s right. We have everything we could possibly ask for. And now, we’re expecting another blessing. I smile through my tears, allowing Olly to open the bathroom door so we can go back to the kids.
“So, what does this mean?”
“Soccer team, Gabs!”
I shake my head, not welcoming the thought. “That’s like what, eleven kids? I don’t think so. You’re getting the snip after this.”
In his arrogant triumph, he narrows his beautiful green eyes with his lip tugged upward into a sinister smirk.
“Never, say never, baby.”
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Oliver vs Pixy
AKA Esmerelda Snowflake
AKA Pixy
AKA Mutton
It’s staring at me.
It smells the fear. The two of us alone, no one else to witness a possible massacre.
Gabriella took CJ and Alexander out for an afternoon walk while I need to make an important phone call.
My business is done. I have officially agreed to a meeting first thing Monday morning where I will sign my multimillion-dollar three-year contract to play for major league soccer here in Los Angeles.
Behind this so-called cute shaggy interior lays a monster, I’m sure of it.
It’s always had a problem with me—like I’ve marked my territory in his domain.
Is it a boy?
Fuck, I can’t remember.
The only thing jogging my memory is the fear this damn goat has instilled in me. I don’t care for fear. I can feel the sweat drench my skin, the thumping of my heart against my chest. My fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I wasn’t ready when Sonny attacked me back when I was a
