Beautiful Storm (San Francisco End Game #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Amelia

F or the next three weeks, Luke does exactly what he said he was going to do and ignores me outside of professional conversations. Despite wishing I could pretend he didn’t exist for most of my life, I struggle more than he does. Something about pretending we have a work relationship when he’s the father of my unborn child doesn’t sit well with me. But I’m trying.

“Morning, Amelia,” Dylan says as he walks by, smiling with a new warmth as he begins to trust me. Most of the players are friendly with me now. You could say I’ve become a part of the furniture. While not all of them are completely comfortable with the cameras, they’ve separated me from that intrusion, and I’m grateful for that. Because this freaking team is growing on me.

“Dylan. Hi. How are you? How are the boys?” His wife, Summer, and their two boys came in to visit the other day—on a non-shoot day—and a new excitement welled inside me. When it comes to kids, I’ve never been that person. I wanted them, sure. I stopped taking the pill while I was married, but I wasn’t one of those women that naturally gravitated toward kids. Now that I’m pregnant, it’s a different story. Someone introduces me to a child and I immediately want to know everything about them. I’m a sponge. I’ve been reading up on all things relating to pregnancy and babies, but no matter how much I learn, it will never be enough. How can it be? There’s no one-size-fits-all when it comes to kids. You just never know what they’re going to be like.

Dylan stops walking and his smile widens. “Josh is a handful. We love him, but that’s the best way to describe him, and Chris, my gentle soul, continues to blow my mind with how fast he’s growing up. He wants to keep up with his big brother more than anything else.”

“I can imagine.”

“I never asked, do you have kids?”

“Not yet, no.”

“I bet it would be hard with a job like this. You’re always here. No matter what time of the day I’m here, you’re here.” I internally wince at his words, but he's not wrong. The long hours, the fast pace, the unpredictability of it all—it’s not easy. But…

“I don’t think it would be any harder than being a professional football player and having kids.”

“True, and that’s why I’m retiring.” His eyes widen before he glances around. “That’s off-the-record, right?”

I pretend to zip up my lips and nod. “Off-the-record.”

“Thanks. I’ve told those that I have to tell, but haven’t announced it to the team. It’s hard keeping a secret, but I don’t want them to start treating me differently yet.”

Dylan just nailed my feelings completely. I’ve mentioned my pregnancy to Jim because he runs the business side of the company, and I assume he’s mentioned it to Tom and HR, but I haven’t announced it because I don’t want to be treated differently. “Believe it or not, I understand. Your secret is safe with me.”

A few of the other guys arrive for their weight sessions, and we chat briefly about what we’re going to be filming. For some, the news pumps them up, while others visibly deflate, and I hate that. But it’s the nature of the job.

Since the schedule for today doesn’t require any specific action, I hand it over to my first assistant director Adrian to keep the team on track, then sneak into my office for some quiet time. I’ve had a headache for the past twenty-four hours and I need a slower day or it’s likely to get worse. I promised myself I’d take care of my body, and now that it’s not just me, I’m more determined.

When early afternoon hits, I’m scrolling through the footage they shot earlier in the day when I overhear Tom’s voice in the hallway. “And here we are,” he says, coming to a stop. “I’m sure Amelia can show you the dailies from last week,” he continues, and I hold back a laugh. He’s so old-school with the way he still refers to the footage as dailies. “She should be here. Last I heard she’d locked herself away to catch up on things.”

“Amelia?” Luke’s voice enters my mind and I freeze. “I thought George was going to show me the footage?” And I thought Tom was talking to a crew member. Why would Luke need to see anything?

“George is the one that mentioned it, but Amelia can show you. Hang on, I’ll make sure she’s inside.”

I pause the playback and stare at the door just as Tom opens up, letting the bright fluorescent lights filter into the room, momentarily blinding me.

“Good, you’re here,” he says, barely glancing my way. “Can you show Luke the footage from last Thursday’s practice? Our PR team wants to use some of it for a promo.”

“Ah, sure.” I’m confused by what that has to do with Luke because we had the players sign their lives away so we wouldn’t need to seek extra permission, but Tom’s the boss so I do as he asked. “Come in, Luke. Tom, do you know what I’m looking for?”

“Luke will know it. It’s toward the end of the session. I’ll leave you to it.”

Luke steps inside just as Tom lets go of the door, shadowing us in the soft dim light of my lamp.

“Sorry. I’ve had a headache all day,” I say when Luke looks around the dark room. “Feel free to turn on the overhead light.”

“I’m good with this.” He shakes his head as he moves toward me, and it snaps me into action, searching our files for last week’s footage. “I won’t be long,” he adds as he reaches me. “But have you taken anything?”

“What?” I stare up at him confused until he points to his head.

“For your headache.”

“Oh, right. Yes, I took some painkillers. Just waiting for them to kick in.” I’ve been waiting around twelve hours, but I refuse to take anything stronger.

“Okay.” Luke nods from the other side of my desk. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. I thought George was going to help me.”

“It’s fine. What do you need?” And why is this so awkward? We were more comfortable when we couldn’t stand each other. This new normal is odd. It doesn’t feel right and I don’t like it.

It takes a few minutes, but we find the section of footage he needs, and as soon as I hit play, I get it. Luke is decked out in his perfectly fitted gray-and-black practice gear as he runs down the field and leaps into the air before catching the ball and rolling over the back of his opponent. The play is over in a matter of seconds, but it’s everything we need to highlight the show. Especially since we have three different angles of the same shot. I click through the other files, and with each new angle, I grow prouder of my team. This footage is raw, fast-paced, full of action and suspense, and it’s sexy as hell. The way they’ve captured Luke’s muscles flexing as he reaches out and curls the ball into his arm, or the close-up of the sheer determination set in his features. It’s something I could watch over and over. Hell, it’s something I want to watch over and over.

My heart pounds as I swallow a lump in my throat before sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, trying not to voice my thoughts, while Luke stays silent.

I play the footage again, thinking that’s all he needed, but when it ends, Luke leans over me to take control of my mouse, replaying the clips several times, his smile widening with each view. I hold my breath so I don’t breathe him in and make sure to keep still with any movement likely to bring us closer.

“Fuck, I look good,” he finally whispers after God knows how long, turning to face me, bringing his nose close to my cheek. My body warms and my legs clench, but I refuse to read anything into that. I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones because something like this wouldn’t usually affect me.

He smiles and I let out a laugh. He’s cocky but right now he can be, because he’s right. It’s great footage and it’s going to make the perfect promo. Football fans will appreciate the play, and everyone else will appreciate Luke.

“For once, Luke, I’m going to give you this. Gloat away, because this clip is going to bring us viewers.”

“Hell yeah.” He laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t bring this moment up too many times. But I’ll always remember you saying it.”

“Credit where credit’s due.”

“Thank you.” He grins before nudging my shoulder with his, sending a tingle right through me.

“Look at us being civil while we’re alone,” I joke as I slide my chair back, trying to put some distance between us, needing to take my mind off his close proximity. “Maybe there’s hope for us yet?”

I spin my chair away from him and stand up to turn on the light, hoping the brightness will snap me back to reality, but a sharp pain in my side cripples me and I grab the desk to stabilize myself. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Luke rushes over, his hand settling on my lower back, his palm burning my skin. “What happened? Is it Bean?”

“Is it what?” I burst out laughing as I try to stand, but the pain takes a few more seconds to subside and when I flinch, Luke curls his arm farther around me, leaning closer to support my weight. I almost let him lift me until I remember I shouldn’t and shake him off.

“Sorry, I’m okay. Just one of those joys of pregnancy.”

“Are you sure?” He frowns, his hand still on me.

“Yep, it’s caused by everything in here”—I wave my hands around my belly—“expanding. It’s happened a few times.”

Luke stares at me for a second, his eyes bouncing between mine as if trying to catch me on a lie, so I smile through the pain to put him at ease. “Oh-kay,” he says slowly, still not a hundred percent convinced. “That’s good. Sort of.”

“I promise, the baby is fine. But…uh…what did you call it?”

Luke laughs before his usual playful demeanor returns and he takes a step back. “Jelly Bean. I couldn’t keep saying ‘baby.’ It didn’t feel right.”

My heart skips but I ignore it and smile. Hayley will be pleased. “I like it. It is better than ‘baby.’ Do you mind if I steal it?”

“Of course not.” He relaxes in front of me, putting me more at ease. “Your stealing has never bothered me. Remember you stole my answers to our math test in fifth grade?”

“Excuse me?” My jaw drops. “That never happened.”

Luke folds his arms over his chest as he casually perches on the edge of my desk. “Then how do you explain both of us getting a perfect score?”

I half mimic his stance, crossing my arms and popping my hip. “We were both the smartest in our grade,” I remind him.

Luke’s cocky smirk lights up his face before he stands up and leans in, patting me on the back. “Thank you, Joy. I’ve waited years for you to admit that.”

Dammit . I bark out a laugh as I once again shift away from his closeness.

“And on that win, I’m going to leave you to it.” He points to the door and laughs until he glances back at me and his smile fades. “As long as you’re okay?”

“Yes,” I rush out as my chest tightens. “I promise. I’m fine.”

“Good. You’d tell me if you weren't, right?” He frowns as through he’s running scenarios through his head. “Or if anything else was worth telling me?”

“Definitely. I don’t have anything to report at the moment. I promise.”

“Okay. Great. Thank you. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“You will.”

He walks away, only looking back when he reaches the door, hitting me with the most breathtaking yet somehow still cocky smile, and I can’t help but stare at his mouth. He must use that as a secret weapon to get women, because holy shit, it’s something else.

I think he says, “Take care, Joy,” before he laughs to himself and disappears out of sight, but I couldn’t be too sure. At least until I snap out of my daze and pray he wasn’t laughing at me because I have no idea what expression I just gave him, though it can’t have been good.

Fucking Luke.

I didn’t want him to be the father of my child because I didn’t think he cared about me. At all. And now it’s almost worse that he does. Because what happens if he breaks my heart all over again? Or what happens if he breaks the heart of our child?

I shake off my thoughts and continue working, but an hour later, I’m still replaying our strange moments over and over when my phone rings.

I fumble around in my drawer until I find my cell, my eyes widening when I see who it is. Stanton Lawyers. The firm Luke paid to take over my divorce. A firm that was more expensive than my already expensive lawyer was.

I stare down at the screen, unable to answer because I’m terrified of what that will mean.

If they’re calling to tell me it’s done, then I’m all set to get married again.

And I am not ready for that.

“Amelia speaking,” I answer at the very last second.

“Amelia, it’s Richard,” Luke’s lawyer responds cheerfully. “I’ve got great news. Congratulations, you’re officially divorced. I’m going to courier the decree to you tomorrow.”

“Wow, thank you so much. I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime.” Or anytime Luke pays you. “How does it feel?”

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly, and he laughs.

“Well, it’s time to celebrate. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“I will. Thank you.”

I hang up but continue to stare at the phone for God knows how long, snapping out of it when a message comes through from Luke.

Luke: I just got this text from my lawyer

He forwards me a message.

Richard: It’s done

Yep. It is. So what now?