Page 129 of Force Play

She shrugs, bringing the coffee to her lips. “I’m fine, Dom. It’s been weeks and the doctor cleared me, but it makes you feel better, I promise not to lift anything heavier than this coffee cup.”

“Reconstructive surgery is no joke, Baby. Just be careful.”

“I’ll sit for five minutes and enjoy this coffee with you, but as soon as there are Bandits here to boss around, break time is over.”

Taking her hand in mine, I lead her to a little alcove, one I know has a chair waiting just for her, because I called the stadium this morning and spoke to the head of facilities myself to make sure it would be there.

“Happy?” she asks, when I pull her down onto my lap.

“For now,” I tell her honestly. I’ll be watching her like a hawk until the moment I get her home. She’s slowly returned to work over the last three weeks, but today will be her busiest day by far since her breast reconstruction three weeks ago. I know she’s strong. I’ve witnessed just how strong countless times in the past six months, but I’ll always fight to protect her, even if it annoys the shit out of her.

“Want a drink?” She holds the coffee between us, a devilish grin on her face.

“No fucking way. Not even Lilah can make that tar taste good.”

“I won’t tell her you said that. It could put her over the edge in her state.”

“You’re a menace. She had to plug her nose while she made that so it didn’t trigger her morning sickness.”

“Shit, really? Now I feel like an asshole.” Indie looks genuinely remorseful. It almost makes me feel bad.

“No, not really. She just had Mikey make it.”

“You’re the worst. Can you believe that by the start of next season, Cruz and Lilah will have a baby, and Poppy and Hendrix will be married. Maybe Dean will finally ask Mia to be his wife and then we just need to find Xavier a girl, now that he kicked Kristy to the curb.”

“Indie Duran, do you love love as much as I do now?”

“No one loves it as much as you do. I just feel bad for the guy. He’s always third wheeling it or getting stuck babysitting the rookies.” She laughs, checking the time on her watch. “Five minutes are up. Let’s go see if your goons are here.”

When we walk back out into the atrium, Dean, Xavier, Cruz, Hendrix stand together in one group while Braxton Hayes, Montana Jones, and Dash Thomas stand a few feet away looking hungover and like this is the last place they want to be. Between the two groups is Miller Murphy looking like he’s not sure where he fits into all this.

“Oh boy, this is going to be fun,” Indie says, handing me her coffee cup and rubbing her hands together.

“Vivi, Willa, and Beck,” Indie hollers to where the three women are huddled together at one of the tables. They all stand and stroll over. “We’re going to split these guys up into groups and you can give them all the down low on each nonprofit, the work they do and volunteer roles available. They won’t be registering new volunteers, we just want them to be able to direct people to the correct tables as they greet them.”

After giving the group of newcomers her speech about the purpose of the event and introducing them to the three women, she splits them up. Sending the rookies with Beck and Vivi, Miller with Willa, and taking the rest of the guys herself.

I could recite the facts about each of the five nonprofits in my sleep, but I tag along just to see my wife in action. When Xavier looks at his phone for the dozenth time in a matter of minutes, I almost smack it out of his hand.

“Xav, what the hell?” Indie says, before I have the chance to bark at him for not paying attention.

When he looks up, his face is pale.

“Kristy’s pregnant.”

“Fuck,” Hendrix groans next to him, the air whooshing out of him when Cruz backhands him in the stomach. “I mean congratulations.”

“Do you need to leave?” Indie asks with genuine concern.

“Um, no. She flew to her parents in Tennessee. There’s nothing I can do right now.”

“Okay, if you’re going to stay, I need you to put the phone away. You have nine months to prepare for the baby. I need you for the next three hours.”

“Two months.”

“Excuse me?” This time, it’s me getting the glare from Cruz.

“Apparently . . .” His eyes drop to the phone in his hands, his brows scrunched. “She’s—um she’s due in two months and is just telling me.”

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