Page 128 of The Goal

Gingerly, I reach over to Jamie’s car seat and tug the blanket down, because even though baby Jamie is sleeping and I should definitely notdisturb her, I can’t help but want to stare into her beautiful, wrinkly face again. Her tiny baby mouth is slightly parted and her little baby fists are clenched tight by her side.

“Let’s go home,” I say firmly. “I want to hold her.”

My arms feel empty. Yes, Tuck and I are only twenty-two years old. Neither of us have steady jobs. I’m living at home with my angry nana and my asshole stepfather. Tucker’s living with a guy whose dream is to be an extra on the set ofEntourage. And now we have a child together.

But looking at Jamie’s sweet face, all I can think of is how much I love her—and Tucker.

I ease back into my seat and watch as Tucker gets the truck into gear and pulls out slowly. I could walk faster than he’s moving the pickup along, but at least we’re leaving. Still, it takes us nearly forty-five minutes to make the drive home because Tucker maintains a steady speed of five miles under the speed limit.

“I’m surprised that even the Boston cop flipping you off and honking didn’t make you drive faster.”

“That asshole should be written up,” he retorts. “Stay there and I’ll come and help you out.”

I’ve learned in these last ten months that Tucker really gets off on helping me out of the truck, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m getting used to it.

He’s got these old-school courtly manners. Like, doors are always held open. I have to walk on the inside of the sidewalk in case there’s a drive-by shooting. He even holds my coat.

Mama Tucker raised him right. I could learn a lot from her. And since we’re bound together by this child, by her son, I’ve decided that we’re going to get along. No matter how many arrows she slings my way, I’m going to take them and prove to her that I’m good enough to be the mother of her grandchild.

“I wonder if I should get one of those baby-on-board signs. That way the assholes behind me can learn a little patience instead of laying on the horn like we’re all in some motherfucking emergency,” Tucker grumbles as he helps me out.

“What’s going to happen when one of those fuckers comes to your door wanting to take Jamie out on a date?”

Tucker stops abruptly, causing me to collide with his stiff back. “She’s going to an all-girls school.”

“Okay, so what happens if one of those fuckers is a female wanting to take Jamie out on a date?”

“None of this would be a problem,” he accuses, “if we stayed in the hospital like I suggested.”

I giggle and brush him aside so I can get to my girl. “She’s still sleeping.”

His solid frame presses into my back as he leans over to peek inside. “She’s so gorgeous. I can’t believe we made her,” he says quietly against my ear. “I’m buying a chastity belt.”

“I don’t think she needs one yet.”

“I’m thinking ahead.” He gently moves me aside to pluck the carrier out of the base.

I arch a brow. “I heard you once had a threesome.”

He nearly trips on a nonexistent crack in the sidewalk. A light cough precedes his query. “A threesome? Who’d you hear that from?”

Ha! He doesn’t deny it. Amused, I brush by him to get the front door. “Carin heard it. Said it was always the quiet ones.”

“No threesomes for Jamie,” he declares. “Maybe we should homeschool her until she’s thirty.”

“We’re turning into hypocrites.”

Tucker nods enthusiastically. “Yup, and no guilt here.” Right before he ducks into the house, he murmurs, “By the way, it was a foursome.”

I gasp. “Two guys and two girls?”

He smirks. “Three girls and me.”

“Wow.” I’m more impressed than angry. “Good for you, stud.”

Snickering, he pushes into the front hall and kicks off his flip-flops.

Inside, the house is surprisingly quiet. Ray must still be in bed, because the television is on but the volume is low, and instead of ESPN, a game show is playing.

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