Page 57 of Shootout Daddies
That thought clearly hadn’t occurred to either of them. Hunter swears under his breath, bouncing Chloe a little faster.
“I know it’s terrifying,” Brooke says gently. “But remember what the team did for Daisy and Leo. Or me and Ace. When our secrets came out, and everyone assumed I’d slept with the whole roster just because Cam and Tanner were brothers? The guys rallied. They made it clear I was family. And that was scandalous. This is a baby. This could happen to literally anyone on the goddamn team, so you need their support in case the higher-ups fuss. That could happen again. You just need to get ahead of it.”
Hunter groans. “This is going to be such a shitshow.”
“Probably,” Brooke says, smiling sympathetically. “But at least it won’t be a surprise shitshow.”
I move to the couch and sit down, reaching for Chloe, who’s blinking slowly like she might nod off again.
Brooke crouches beside me. “She’s beautiful,” she says quietly. “Nine months?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Golden brown curls. Big eyes. No idea if it’s Hunter’s or Rhett’s.”
Brooke studies her. “So you’re all just... figuring it out?”
“We’re trying,” I admit. “It’s been a lot. But it also... it doesn’t feel like a burden. She’s... I don’t know. She’s something else.”
“She’s already changed everything,” Hunter says, voice quieter now.
Brooke reaches out and squeezes his hand. “You guys will be okay. But if you want help navigating this with the team, I’ll stand by you.”
Rhett looks at her. “Thank you. Really.”
“I’ll talk to Daisy too,” she adds. “She’s got experience handling crisis PR from both sides. You’re not alone in this.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
This is happening. We’re telling people. The secret’s out.
And somehow, that feels... good.
“Breakfast was great,” my best friend tells me.
Chloe’s tiny hand wraps around my pinky as she snoozes peacefully in her bouncer seat beside the breakfast nook. The morning sun spills in across the penthouse floor, golden and slow, over the marble tiles.
The apartment smells like brewed coffee, baby wipes, and a hint of whatever citrus detergent Rhett insists on using for Chloe’s clothes. Storm’s sprawled on the rug, tongue hanging out, eyes closed in perfect bliss.
He’s adjusted surprisingly well to this new chapter—protective of Chloe, tolerant of the crying, and completely loyal to me. He follows me from room to room like a bodyguard made of snuggles and dog breath.
Brooke leans back in one of the dining chairs, a coffee cup in hand, her long braid swinging over her shoulder as she eyes Chloe with something between amusement and awe.
“You’ve really turned into a mom, huh?” she says softly.
I laugh under my breath. “Feels like it. I mean, I haven’t even screamed into a pillow yet.”
She snorts. “That’s impressive. Skye projectile-vomited all over Leo’s conference notes once and I locked myself in the laundry room for twenty minutes.”
I grin. “Okay, maybe I’m still in the honeymoon phase.”
Brooke eyes Storm, then Chloe, then me. “You should bring her over sometime. Let her hang with the girls.”
My chest warms. “Really?”
“Of course. You’re family.”
I glance toward the kitchen where Rhett and Hunter are finishing off the stack of protein pancakes I made earlier, their plates nearly licked clean, their post-practice appetites bottomless as usual.
For the first time since Chloe arrived, they look like they can actually breathe. Like sharing this, confessing to Brooke, lifted a weight off their shoulders.
