Page 124 of Play the Game
Stepping to her, I lay my free hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears with my thumb. “You. When we were in the car outside my parents’ house on Christmas Eve, you told me you’ve neverhad a favorite place. When I asked you what your favorite place would have looked like, you said it would look like this.”
“You remembered that?”
I smile, leaning in and kissing her forehead. “I remember everything. I wish someone had given you your favorite place when you were little, but I thought maybe we could give Emmy hers. One day she might decide she hates green, or she might turn into an emo kid who paints the walls black and hangs weird posters all over the walls. But for now, I thought she might like this.”
“How did you do this?” she asks in quiet voice, her gaze still roving the room, taking in all the details.
My heart squeezes at the look on her face, and suddenly I see a much younger Evan, standing in a bedroom she hates, waiting for someone to see her. I see her—then and now—and I make a quiet vow always to make sure she knows it. She is the center of my universe, and I want to give her everything.
“My brothers. All the furniture and everything was already up in the empty apartment that used to be Noah’s. The paint too. They put it all together when we were in the hospital. This apartment was already ours. Now it’s hers too. There’s all kinds of other shit up there the internet told me we needed, but we can deal with all that later.”
Evan leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder, wrapping one arm around my waist and laying her other hand over mine on Emmy’s back. Dipping her head, she presses a kiss to Emmy’s cheek and then tips her head up, laying her lips on mine in the softest, sweetest kiss. “I love you,” she says, voice thick and eyes swimming with feeling. “You are the best person I have ever known. My favorite person. Thank you for this. For everything. For loving me and for giving this to Emmy and for making us a family even when I didn’t realize that was exactly what I needed. You always knew.” She looks down at Emmy and swallows hard. “For a long time, I didn’t think I could do this. I didn’t want to do this,” she says quietly.
“And now?” I ask, stroking a hand over her hair, already knowing the answer but wanting her to say it. To know it for herself.
When she looks at me, the love in her eyes has my heart thudding against my ribs, my entire world shrinking to just the three of us. This place. This moment. Perfect. “I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I want to figure it out. I want to do it, but only if I get to do it with you.”
Evan curls into me, and I lay my cheek on top of her head, our daughter between us and our hearts beating in sync, and I think that life couldn’t possibly get better than this.
When Evan’s stomach growls, Emmy jerks awake with a small cry. I snort out a laugh, rubbing a hand over Emmy’s belly. “Looks like both of my girls need to be fed. How do you feel about quesadillas?”
Evan groans, and the sound goes straight to my dick. I mentally tell that asshole to calm the fuck down because he won’t be getting any action for a while. “I feel amazing about quesadillas, but you really don’t have to cook. We can order in or something.”
I shake my head. “Bite your tongue, Rhodes. You delivered a whole entire baby. The absolute least I can do is make you lunch.”
Evan pokes her tongue into her cheek, considering me. “Well, when you put it that way…who am I to stop you?”
Grinning, I lead her into the living room and settle her onto the couch with Emmy, laying a blanket over her and tucking it around her legs, setting a handful of cherry Jolly Ranchers next to her and handing her the pink notebook and pen sitting on the coffee table so she can dream and plot a little if she’s feeling inspired. Ducking into the kitchen, I make the baby a bottle and fill a tall glass with ice and cherry seltzer for Evan. Back in the living room, I hand her both then grasp her chin, tipping her face up and kissing her, long and slow, my tongue invading her mouth to tangle with hers, smiling when she sighs against mylips. Breaking the kiss, I press one more to her forehead and bend to kiss Emmy before heading into the kitchen.
As I make lunch for both of us, catching glimpses of Evan snuggled up with Emmy through the kitchen doorway, smiling as she flips through her notebook, I am well and truly home.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
COOPER
I’m flipping the quesadillas with one hand and squeezing fresh lime into guacamole with the other when my front door flies open. “We brought lunch!” Noah announces.
“Jesus, Noah, turn the volume down,” Elliot says in a normal voice. “A baby lives here now.”
“Hang on.” Jordan’s voice filters into the kitchen. “Why does it smell like lunch in here already? Cooper!” he calls. “Who made lunch?”
Fucking shit.
I glance at the pan on the stove with quesadillas that are five minutes from being done. The bowl of almost guacamole. Spices and ingredients spread out on the counter and my secret cabinet standing wide open. This is way too much stuff to shove into the dishwasher. All the visions I had of unveiling my secret to my family in the most epic way possible run through my brain and then vanish, one by one.
I guess this is happening now. And honestly, I think maybe them coming in here and seeing me just like this is epic all on its own.
“Evan, did you make lunch?” my mom asks. “Cooper Wyles,” she yells from the living room. “I swear to god, if you let the mother of your child make lunch three days after she gave birth to your baby, I’m giving you up for adoption.” I stay quiet, snickering at her melodrama, thrilled that she’s here to see this too.
“Oh Pammy, he would never.” Cece’s voice is full of the kind of amusement that makes me entirely sure she has known this whole time that I am, in fact, one hell of a cook.
“I don’t think adoption is going to be necessary, Pam,” I hear Evan say gleefully from her perch on the couch, like she knows she’s about to get a show and is entirely here for it.
“There’s my Emmy Girl,” my mom coos, and I’m sure she’s parking herself on the couch next to Evan, settling in and plucking the baby right out of Evan’s arms.
I should probably make more quesadillas.
“Cooper, where the fuck are you?” Noah calls.
