Thousand Yard Bride (20 page)

I liked looking around and seeing that she’d used a couple of mugs. Cooked something. I pictured her doing it, moving around the space, making the place look lived-in and homey, which was comforting.

It was even more comforting just sitting next to her on my couch. Before, whenever I had a woman over to my place, it was almost always to score. Otherwise, having company meant I was just hanging out with the guys.

Whenever Reese or someone came over, we’d play video games, or get drunk and watch ESPN. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just sat quietly and watched TV with a woman.

Lifting the remote, I asked, "What bad reality show do you want to watch?"

“Well . . .
Wild Wives
is on tonight,” she said innocently.

“
Wild Wives
? That sounds like porn. Not that I’m complaining.”

Jo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s better than porn. It’s a super trashy reality show about these uber rich housewives who do fancy rich people things. And they fight all the time.”

“Wait, and these women are friends?”

“On the show, yeah. Who knows about real life, though.”

“Only one way to find out." Leaning against her, I tugged at her wet hair. She'd put on a simple long shirt and sweat pants, comfortable for her growing belly. "You'll just have to fulfill your dream and become a Wild Wife."

We both laughed before Jo said, “I think I'm already a
wild
wife."

"I'll say." Kissing her neck, I lazily rolled my palm over one of her breasts. I could feel how swollen it was, the size changing. Just knowing the reason had my cock hardening.

We watched
Wild Wives
and then two more hours of reality TV. Jo fell asleep in my lap, and I ended up watching another half hour show after that. When my Go-To-Sleep-Now-Asshole-Practice-Starts-At-Six-in-the-Morning alarm went off, I debated whether to let Jo sleep on the couch or not. While I was debating that in my head, I watched her serene face.

Her wet hair had dried messily, but it was still beautiful. She had one hand beneath her head and one on her stomach over our baby. I reached out to touch her there, to feel our baby below it, but she woke up before I could make contact.

“Mmm. What time is it?” Jo asked, yawning.

I pulled my arm back. “It’s only eleven, but I have to be rested for practice in the morning. Not all fun and games, this professional football thing."

“Did I keep you up?” she asked, still groggy. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah. I had fun.”

Jo yawned again, stretched sexily as she got up and stumbled her way to the guest bedroom. I watched her open the door and opened my mouth to invite her into my bed, but then hesitated. I knew what I wanted, but what did she want? She turned and looked over her shoulder with a sleepy smile.

“Goodnight,” she said, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind her.

“Night,” I whispered.

In the air, where minutes ago her belly had been, I lifted my palm and just held it.

A
fter that first
night together we started hanging out each evening after practice when Jo came home from SportsFire or emerged, exhausted, from the home office I’d put together for her.

We cooked meals side by side and watched TV or worked on our laptops, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that Jo got just as riled up watching football as I did. Sometimes we ordered in. Sometimes we went to the movies.

Our relationship quickly shifted from feeling like a necessary arrangement to feeling like we were a real married couple. We weren’t hopping into bed together, but we were growing closer. And at some point, I realized we were best friends.

I told a woman I loved her before I could have said we were best friends.
How backwards was I? I wanted to laugh—it was a little too painful to do so.

I thought I’d miss all the partying and drinking, but the truth is that all the rest and relaxation was doing me good, both mentally and physically.

I'd also stopped pretending I didn't want her. Not that I'd held back before, but living together, all pretense was gone. Whenever she brushed near me, stirring my cock, I'd groan loudly and grab for her hips.

Most of the time she went along with it.

If she didn't, it was only because of the pregnancy.

But, funnily enough, in spite of being self-conscious about her stomach, Jo was hornier than ever. That was fucking great for me, because I didn't mind her round belly. I
adored it.
I couldn't get enough of being near her, touching her skin and feeling our baby move.

Unfortunately, the week after Jo moved in, the team had another away game in Tucson. The week after that was a third game on the road in Cincinnati. It was brutal traveling so much, but the last game before my bye week was a home game against the Ospreys. It would also be the first game that Jo would attend publicly as Mrs. Hunter Daniels Jr.

I could tell that the very idea of being in the spotlight on national TV while mega-pregnant was getting to her. The Saturday night before the game, she tried on three different outfits, modeling them for me.

“You look hot in everything, Jo,” I said.

“Not helping,” she answered. “But thanks. I think I need to call in backup.”

When Lanie arrived, the first thing I noticed were her Hawks face tattoos. “Wow,” I said, “I sure hope those are temporary.” I was not expecting to see Lanie decked out like a mega fan. She even wore a cute Hawks jersey over a long sleeve shirt with jeans.

“I’ve got school spirit, yes I do,” Lanie chirped.

“Wrong league, but right idea,” I said, laughing. “Meanwhile your sister’s in her room tearing apart her closet.”

“No worries,” Lanie said, holding up a Fan-A-Maniac bag. “I came prepared.”

I followed Lanie as she went into Jo’s room. She said, “How about instead of that dress, which you’d freeze in by the way, you just wear what I’m wearing? We’d be twins!” Lanie pulled a Hawks jersey out of the bag.

Jo seemed to warm to the idea quickly. “That would be nice, actually,” she said. “Being six months pregnant and trying to look good in these designer dresses is for the birds. What do you think, Hunter? Too gauche? Would your parents flip out?”

“Maybe, but who cares? You two would be like my own personal cheerleaders. Double hot,” I said jokingly.

Laughing, Lanie tossed a pillow off the couch at me. “Ew, Hunter.”

“I’m serious. I think it’s a good idea. Not only will you look cute, but you’ll seem down to earth, which you actually are,” I said, making my point. “Why pretend to be someone you’re not?”

Jo considered it. “Well, P.R. me thinks that is a good idea, but wife of Hunter me worries what Victoria will say.”

I shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out. No matter what though, you two will be the finest ladies in the box. I can guarantee that.”

“All right,” Jo said, pumping her fists. “I’ll get back to my sporty roots."

Sitting on the couch again, I waited for Jo to appear. Her gentle cough told me she was ready. Turning, I ate her up with my stare. "Wow," I breathed. "You look great."

Rocking side to side, she pulled at the jersey. "Really?"

Jumping up, I swept her into my arms, having no trouble lifting her like she was light as a cloud. Lanie made a gagging sound as I kissed my wife, but I didn't care. Not at all.

There were stars in Jo's eyes when I set her down. "Uh," she said. "Maybe we should get going."

Grinning, I gave Lanie a little wink. "Agreed. If we linger, I'll drag you to my room."

"Urrgghh," Lanie groaned, laughing at Jo's furious blush.

* * *

J
o must have been
my lucky charm, because at that game against the Miami Ospreys I broke my record for longest catch. I couldn't wait to tell her that we would have to celebrate extra hard during our quickie honeymoon to New York City next weekend.

After I completed all my post-game interviews, a freshly opened bottle of Croc-Cooler in my hand the whole time, I wanted to get to Jo as fast as I could. I was in such a hurry that I left my cell phone and wallet in my locker. I thought about going back for them but I wanted to get to the boxes first and celebrate with my wife.

I raced to my parents’ box high up in the club section of the stadium. But when I got there, I couldn't find Jo or Lanie. I saw my mom talking to her friend Cerene. When she realized I was there, she rushed over. I could tell by the tense look on her face that something was wrong.

“Where’s Jo,” I asked. “Where’s her sister?”

“Heavens,” Cerene said. “You haven’t heard?”

“Hunter,” my mom started. “Jo was having some abdominal pains. It’s probably nothing, but Lanie took her to the hospital just in case.”

I was seeing red, adrenaline surging through my body. “When was this?”

“At the start of the fourth quarter.”

“You waited a
whole quarter
to tell me that Jo had to go to the hospital?” Veins popped along my neck. I needed to go, to run harder and faster than ever so I could get to Jo. If anything had happened to her or the baby I—

Victoria pulled me away from everyone else in the box, keeping her voice low. “I wanted to, but your father insisted that I wait until after the game. I called you right when the game was over. Did you not get my message?”

“My phone’s still in the locker. How could he do that? Why did you listen to him?” I was so angry I could barely get the words out.

My mom looked worried. I could tell she was just trying to calm me down when she said, “I’m sorry, Hunter. I’m sure everything is fine, stay positive."

I fought down a tornado of emotions. “Stay fucking
positive?"

My mother took my hand and looked into my eyes. “Hunter, you have every right to worry, but I know that Jo and the baby will be fine.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that. Where is she?” I asked.

“Haven Memorial."

I pulled my hand away and ran as fast as I could toward the exit. On my way I passed my father, who tried to stop me, but I didn't give him a chance to speak. I didn’t say a single word or even look in his direction as I stormed out of the box. I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could.

I put the McLaren to the test that night as I sped to the hospital. It was the one and only time that my performance sports car ever got to do what it was designed to do. I was still so panicked when I arrived that when I pulled into the hospital parking lot and jumped out of the car, I nearly forgot to shift it into park.

As I dashed into the lobby I reached for my phone to call Lanie and see where Jo was, but realized it was still in my locker at the stadium. I found the sign for the ER and made a run for it. Come hell or high water, I’d find Jo.

Thankfully, there was a woman at the desk deeper in. "Sir!" she shouted. "Slow down! Who are you looking for?"

"My wife," I panted, leaning on the counter. "Joanne Daniels."

Her smile was kind. "She's speaking with her doctor right now."

“Is she all right?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said, “But I’m not authorized to give out—”

“Please,” I pleaded, “Just tell if my baby is okay. If my wife is okay.” I wanted to find her and make sure everything was all right. The not knowing was torture. I would have done anything, suffered anything, to make sure Jo and my child were still whole. “Please,” I continued. “I just need to know."

The receptionist held up a hand to soothe me. After checking her computer, she said, “She’s in room 742. You can go see her now.”

I tried to keep it together as I stood in the elevator. It seemed to take an eternity to get to the seventh floor. I stood there in the cramped space, trying to calm myself down with some deep breathing.

The worst case scenarios flashed before my eyes.

What if something was wrong with the baby?

What if something had happened to Jo?

Had I not been doing enough for her?

I should have gone with her to more of her doctors’ appointments. Why didn't I go with her? I could have skipped practice. I could have done more for my wife and for my baby.

Finally, the elevator doors parted and I walked as fast as I could down the fluorescent-lit hallways. The door to Jo’s room was cracked open and I heard Lanie’s voice as she said, “What does this mean, doctor?”

I opened the door and burst in. “Jo? Jo, are you okay? I came as fast as I could!”

There she was. My wife was reclining in a hospital bed, looking pale. I rushed over and took her hand, then turned to face the doctor, a tall woman with dark skin and a reassuring air about her.

The doctor looked me over and then smiled, “Number Eighty-Three. Good game today.”

“What the hell? Who cares about the game?” I spit.

The doctor looked confused for a second and then changed her tone. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you’d been informed, since everybody was calling and leaving you messages. Your wife and baby are just fine, Mr. Daniels. We just had a bit of a false alarm. No need to worry.”

Lanie asked, “Why haven’t you been picking up your phone, Hunter?”

“I left it in the locker room and then came straight here after I heard. What happened?”

Jo looked embarrassed. “I had some upper stomach pain, and I’d read that could be a sign of severe preeclampsia, so I freaked out. I was just being stupid.”

“No,” I said, hugging her tightly against me. “You did the right thing. I’m sorry I wasn't there.” I looked over at Lanie and added, “Thank you, Lanie. Thank you for taking care of my wife.”

“What are sisters for?” Lanie said.

The doctor said, “The pain could have been anything. Most likely a reaction to some kind of food the baby didn’t take to. In any case all the results came back just fine. Better safe than sorry.”

“I might have had some nachos,” Jo said, looking embarrassed again.

“They have nachos in the box seats?” I asked, confused.

“Not exactly. None of the fancy food did it for me, so . . .”

Lanie cut her off. “So I went out and got her some extra loaded nachos. It’s really all my fault. I’m the nacho-wielding fiend. Who even knows what kind of meat was on them?”

The doctor laughed and tucked her clipboard under her arm. “It’s no one’s fault. By the way, I delivered a baby just before I came in here. The father is a huge Hawks fan and because of your performance today he decided to name his baby girl ‘Hunter.’ Isn’t that sweet?”

Stunned, I just said, "Wow."

“That’s so great,” Jo said, beaming.

“Go Hawks!” Lanie exclaimed, holding up her hand so the doctor could high-five it. She obliged and then headed out the door.

Jo blushed, hiding her face with a pillow. "Lanie . . ."

They were joking around, but I was still busy rolling in my own self hate. I wished that I’d been there for Jo and our baby. What if it had been a real problem? I couldn't imagine living with myself if I'd been scoring on the field while Jo was at risk.

“One more thing, Hunter,” Jo said. “I found out the sex of the baby.”

My brain went fuzzy. Her simple sentence removed my fears. “Don’t tell me, Jo.”

“What? But why?”

“I guess I want to be surprised,” I said, smiling. I didn't add that I couldn't take any more major news at the moment, and I didn't want to admit how sappy I felt about looking forward to finding out the baby’s gender.

To finally meeting them.