Page 54 of Tumbling the Cornerback

I crept down the hallway, doing my best to keep from waking Cooper, but it was useless. He was sitting up in bed, grinning. “Go back to sleep,” I hissed. “I’m trying to surprise you, damn it!”

He laughed quietly—my sister and nephew were just down the hall in the guest room, his parents in the other. Heloise, Greggy, and Sonny would be by in a few hours. Later, we’d have a house full of loud football players, their partners, kids, some friends from work, ... Pretty much an entire small town by headcount. But for now, it was just us and our sleepy loved ones in the predawn hours. “I can’t sleep when you’re sneaking around like the world’s noisiest cat burglar.”

Desmond huffed an annoyed sound from the end of the bed. He’d taken to sleeping with Cooper every night Cooper was home. “Sorry,” Cooper corrected, sounding not at all contrite. “No offense to cats.”

I shut the door quietly behind me, pushing it with my foot. I balanced a tray with coffee, tea, way too many pancakes, that gross turkey bacon Cooper liked, and a huge bowl of fruit. “Shove over then. I don’t need to be all sweet and wake you with gentle kisses and shit if you’re already up.”

“I don’t know—I could do with some gentle kisses.”

I raised my brow, setting the tray on his lap. Carefully, I crawled over his shins to perch on my side of the bed with its stack of pillows and overflowing nightstand. He eyed me expectantly, tapping the corner of his lips when I just stared back. “Oh, I suppose,” I grumbled, barely able to keep from smiling. When I leaned in to give him a peck, he grabbed me around the middle. He managed not to dump the tray over as he dragged me in for a deeper, longer kiss than I’d planned on.

Not that I minded.

“Breakfast,” he muttered against my lips when I tried to squirm even closer.

“Not hungry.”

He grinned, giving my lower lip a sharp nip. “Liar. You’re a bottomless pit.” With another smacking kiss, he set me back on my side of the bed. Three years in and his casual displays of strength still made my stomach flutter and heart skip. “Oooooh, kiwi! Thanks!”

I slid down lower in the bed, stretching my legs to bump Desmond. “Feeling better?”

He nodded. “Everything hurts, and I want to die a little, but not nearly as bad as last weekend. I have an appointment with the doc on Monday.” He popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.

I snagged one of the berries from the fruit bowl, turning on my side to watch him eat. “Are you happy?”

He coughed on his kiwi, waving me off when I tried to smack him on the back. After a few moments, he set the tray aside on his nightstand and turned to face me more fully with a concerned, confused expression. “Are you?”

“Very,” I promised, scooting closer. “I know we’ve been really just swamped this year between my work and yours, and your injuries this season and—” I trailed off, leaning into his hand as he stroked my hair back from my face. “I just wanted to make sure, I suppose.”

“What did I tell you?” he murmured, leaning in close. When he brushed his lips against mine again, he tasted of kiwi and coffee and sugar, barely a kiss but definitely a promise. “What do I always tell you?”

“Get my feet off the coffee table?” I teased.

“Exactly. Lucas, get your feet off the coffee table.”

“I love you too.”

Themorning spiraled quickly into chaos. Once we'd finished breakfast, it was like a signal went up to everyone in the vicinity. My nephew tested his lung power, which led to Cooper's parents cooing and fussing over him with significant glances and mentions of how wonderful babies are and I sure wish we had a baby to hold all the time now that Greggy was getting too big for them to carry around easily.

They didn't appreciate my suggestion to start a babysitting business.

It wasn't long before the house filled, family members arriving first, then a flood of players, friends, and loved ones. After a while, we just left the front door open to stop the constant ringing of the bell. The music I'd picked out was absolutely smothered under the rumble of voices and shrieks of children who'd discovered the box of water toys set up on the back patio. Mom and Aunt Lynda played lifeguards while some of the older kids swam in the heated pool. A few of the newer players perched, wide-eyed and a little stiff, on Cooper's prized leather sofa while everyone else made themselves at home. Cooper disappeared into the sea of huge men clustered in the media room. The crowd reminded me of those nature documentaries where the big cats are all devouring some poor beastie—except in this case, the beastie was a massive charcuterie platter Marisol, Tori, and I made and the jugs of sangria Liz and Jenny provided.

"Talk to Dani yet?" Marisol asked, catching up with me in the kitchen. "She was looking for you earlier."

"That can't be good," I groaned, sinking down against the counter. We'd found a surprisingly quiet spot, tucked into the corner near the fridge and pantry. Everyone was distracted with pre-game shows and roughhousing, up to their eyeballs in snacks and drinks. "What did I do now?"

Marisol smiled mysteriously, doing her best to conceal it behind her glass of sweet tea.

"Marisol. What are you hiding?"

"Not a thing," she sing-songed as Tori sauntered over.

"Did you tell him Dani was looking for him?"

"Oh my god," I groaned. "Does everyone know but me?"

Tori snickered. "If it helps, I don't think the kid does." She patted her gently rounded belly. "Though Dani is pretty loud, so maybe?"

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