Page 72 of It's Always Us

“What time is your appointment?” Grandpa asks, smiling again. “I want a picture of my grandbaby.”

“Ten,” I say, and his gaze drops to my stomach, hidden under my sweatshirt.

He gestures to my midsection. “How long have you been hiding that?”

Memories of Mark’s reaction flood the forefront of my mind. I lift my sweatshirt to reveal my snug T-shirt underneath.

His eyes grow wide at my little bulge. “Well, shit, Pal. No, hiding that anymore.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

“You plan on telling your mom?” he asks, moving back to his chair and taking a bite of his burger.

I pull Mark to the couch, and he sits next to me, throwing his arm over the back while keeping his other tucked securely to his body. “I’m going to see if she wants to have dinner. Mark can only stay until Friday.”

“I’ll be sure to disconnect my phone and sleep at the shop until you give me the all-clear.”

I roll my eyes at him. “She’s preoccupied with a new man, so hopefully that will help.”

His body shakes with laughter, and Mark’s eyes meet mine.

I eye Grandpa. “What’s so funny?”

“I want to be there when she finds out you’re married to Sandberg. She was all hung up on Mr. Shiny Shoes.”

“She doesn’t know anything about Mark, and I’m fine keeping it that way for as long as possible.”

“I don’t get it,” Mark says.

I turn toward him. “You know how my mom was. She wanted me to find someone to take care of me. When she finds out you’re one of the highest-paid players in the NFL—”

“So, she’s going to be ecstatic,” Mark smiles.

I frown. “Uh . . . yeah, probably, but I’m not telling her what you do. I’ll be surprised if she knows who you are. She’ll tell me my life is over, and someday when she figures it out, well then . . . she can think whatever she wants.”

Mark kisses my forehead. “There’s going to be a lot of people who think a lot of things. She’s not going to be the first or the last.”

Great.My stomach lurches. People have always had a lot to think and say when they find out I read at a first-grade level and worse when I feel pressured.

Grandpa slurps the end of his shake. “I’m going to have fun watching how this all turns out.” He points at Mark. “I fed your growing ass for years. I have two posters that need signing. Tickets to a game for all my pain, suffering, and worrying about your hormonal teenage tendencies would be sufficient compensation.”

Mark laughs. “Any team I should stay away from during negotiations that wouldn’t fit the bill?”

“Don’t even think about taking my granddaughter or that baby anywhere near the city.” He gives Mark a look that says he means business, then moves right on as if Mark never went missing. “That brother of yours has got a good thing going on after the trade. You going to the big game?”

Life has been crazy these past weeks, and I haven’t watched the remaining playoff games, but I know that Mark’s brother, Sean, is playing in the Super Bowl.

Mark shifts next to me, and his hand drops to my shoulder. “Yes. Shane and his family will be there, and I have the awards beforehand.” His chin dips to look at me. “Maybe you could come with me.” His eyes hold an unusual hint of shyness that I don’t understand. Mark isnevershy.

“To the awards?” I ask, thinking about what that would mean. It would mean being on full display in front of the entire world.

“Both,” he says quickly.

Grandpa must sense my apprehension and jumps in. “Pal, there isn’t going to be a whole lot you can do around here.”

I slump. “I can’t go the next six months without a paycheck.”

The old fart snickers at my comment, like the idea of needing money is absurd. Mark’s hand squeezes mine.

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