Page 98 of Her Football Star Ex

I felt bad that I’d deserted him like that without even trying to talk about things. Yes, I felt vindicated in leaving him, but he’d been just as blindsided as I was.

“I’m really good with babies,” I offered, reaching out for Evelyn again.

His eyes danced back and forth between mine, still unsure. But then his shoulders relaxed and he carefully handed me the dark, curly-haired baby in his arms.

And when I cradled her next to me, she was warm, smelled delicious, and was just the perfect amount of squishy.

For the longest time after the miscarriage and infertility diagnosis, I had refused to hold babies because I was bitter and didn’t like being reminded of what I was missing out on. So I expected to be hit with even more of that bitterness when Vincent put Evelyn in my arms, especially since the circumstances of how she came to be were so triggering to me.

But strangely enough, I didn’t feel any of that right then.

I maybe even liked how it felt to have a baby in my arms again.

“The formula is just over there.” Vincent pointed to the kitchen island cluttered with dirty baby bottles, baby cereal boxes, and mail. “And there should be a clean bottle in the cupboard above the dishwasher.” He ran a hand through his hair. “At least I think there was one left in there the last time I looked.”

“Okay, I got it.”

He looked back to me, both wariness and gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you, Emerson. I know helping me is probably the last thing you want to do right now.”

I shook my head and gave him as confident a smile as I could muster. “It’s no problem.”

He hesitated for just a moment longer, as if he really was expecting me to throw Evelyn back into his arms and leave him high and dry, but then he slowly stepped back and went down the hall and into his bedroom.

So I turned my attention on the baby who was currently sucking on her fingers and drooling like there was no tomorrow, and said, “How about we get you that bottle.”

38

Emerson

Jaxonand I played a round of Candy Land as I fed Evelyn her bottle at the kitchen island. I’d assumed she would be fussy since she’d been crying so hard when I first got there, but she’d been all smiles and just happy to fill her belly.

Which I guess I could understand. I was always more crabby when I was hungry, too.

I had just drawn the Plumpy card, sending me all the way back to the beginning of the game and Jaxon drew a double red to win, when Vincent came back into the room. He looked like a new man in a clean white V-neck shirt and black sweats, and he’d even trimmed his beard so it was down to the length of what I’d always called his sexy scruffy look.

“Feel better?” I asked, setting Evelyn’s empty bottle on the counter.

“Much better.” He nodded, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair. “Thank you again for letting me shower. I’m pretty sure that was the first one I’ve had since my mom was here on Monday night.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel better,” I said.

He glanced around awkwardly for a moment then said, “I guess I can take her so you can get back to your evening.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” I stood from the stool and was about to put the baby in his arms when I noticed Jaxon’s shoulders slump. He really had been missing out on his one-on-one time with his dad. And it wasn’t like I really had anything to go home to. So I said, “Actually, I think Jaxon was really hoping you could read a story to him in his bed. If you don’t mind doing that, I could rock Evelyn to sleep.”

His eyes widened, probably surprised I was offering to help him even more. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I said. “I think he’d love some time alone with his daddy.”

Vincent nodded. “I have been a bit busy with the baby lately.” Then he turned to Jaxon. “Would you like to sleep with me in my bed tonight, buddy?”

Jaxon’s eyes lit up. “In your big bed?” And my heart melted a little to see how excited he was to spend special time with his dad.

Vincent nodded and held out his hand for Jaxon to take. “It’s been a long time since we had a guys’ sleepover. I think we should change that.”

And that was all the encouragement Jaxon seemed to need to plop down off the bar stool, run to the bookshelf next to the couch to grab out a couple of board books, and then race down the hall to Vincent’s room.

Vincent grabbed Jaxon’s backpack that was on the floor by the fridge. He was about to disappear down the hall when he paused, as if he remembered something. He looked at me for a split second before his gaze slid to the little stuffed cat on the kitchen counter. “Can’t forget this now, can we?” He held up Petrie.

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