The Baseball Card Boyfriend (Starrycard Creek Bachelors #3)

Epilogue

CHRISTIAN

“I’m glad you’re here, Number Eleven…and alone,” Maggie purred as she sauntered toward him with something hidden behind her back.

He closed the bedroom door. “What do you have there, TBD?”

Of course, he knew her last name was no longer to be determined , but he was a ballplayer. And once a nickname took hold, it was locked in. And…anytime she started with the Number Eleven business, he had to match her sass.

Also, number-eleven talk usually meant she was feeling naughty.

“With the excitement of hosting Thanksgiving, I forgot to show you something that arrived,” she said, playing the innocent.

He tipped up her chin and gazed into her hazel eyes. “And what would that be?”

She watched him for a beat, a sexy smirk on her lips. “Sit down and close your eyes.”

“Will I like this?” he asked, drinking her in, so fucking in love with his dream girl.

Her eyes glittered with mischief. “Oh, you’ll like it. Now follow directions.”

He nodded, keeping his gaze locked on her as he took a few steps backward and settled on the edge of their bed.

“Eyes,” she chided.

“Somebody woke up bossy,” he mumbled, complying, but it was an act. He loved seeing her confidence grow and loved watching her take on her role as a small business owner. He loved everything about the woman who grounded him and got him so worked up that he could barely wait to make her body tremble against his each night.

He listened to the soft rustle of denim, the faint purr of a zipper, and the quiet drop of her jeans and sweatshirt hitting the floor. A lusty smile stretched across his face. “I agree. I have a feeling I’m really going to like this. Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you for the last twenty-four hours?”

Yesterday morning, his family had arrived, their energy taking over the ranch as they prepped for today’s Thanksgiving feast. They were hosting the group for the long weekend. And while he’d loved having everyone at the ranch, he’d gotten spoiled rotten having Maggie all to himself these last couple of weeks.

Not to say they hadn’t been busy.

He’d set up his office in town hall and had begun brainstorming with Kieran and his mother. And when he wasn’t with them or enduring good-natured ribbing from the seniors during the Rise and Fucking Shine Mobility class (adding the expletive, his first act in his new position, had tripled attendance), he was at My Blushing Baker, helping Maggie transform the space for its December grand opening.

This new pace provided a steady stream of meaningful work. It wasn’t the grind of Major League Baseball but a different rhythm altogether. And thanks to the love of his life, it was everything his heart needed. He’d found the path meant for him—a path never to be traveled alone.

And speaking of alone—the clock on their private time was ticking away.

Since their guests arrived, Maggie had spent most of her time in the kitchen baking and prepping dishes while he’d arranged hikes, games, and entertainment—and doing laundry. Yep, laundry. Nobody could fold a fitted sheet faster. He was the damned master of linens. Okay, did that sound insane? Sure, but he still had a competitive side. He just applied that drive differently now. And that competitive side is what got them both up at the crack of dawn today. He’d set the table and dug out all the board games while she’d put the turkey in the oven.

“Open your eyes,” she said softly.

The sultry edge to her words sent a jolt of pure animal desire surging through him and had him rock-hard in the space of a breath. Steadying himself, he opened his eyes, and sweet Christ, he was the luckiest man alive.

Maggie stood before him in an apron—and nothing else.

She did a sexy little twirl. “Blame this little interruption to our early morning prep on my perma-horny brain.”

“Can you confirm with Dr. Ironside that perma-horny brain is a lasting affliction?”

“My perma-horny condition is only brought on by you, Number Eleven.”

“Damn right,” he growled.

She swayed her hips and cradled her full breasts in her hands. “I need your opinion. I like where the logo is placed. And I think the fit is just right,” she added, running her hands down her abdomen. She gazed at him through her lashes. “What do you think, Number Eleven? Do you like the fit?”

He licked his lips. “I think my blushing baker looks tastier than one of her pies. And that’s saying something because I love to devour her pie.”

She raked her gaze over his body. “You look a little hungry now.”

“I’ve never been more famished.” He stood, peeled off his T-shirt, and let it fall to the floor next to her clothing.

She glanced at the clock. “It’s six eleven.”

“That’s my lucky number.” He glanced at the door to McKenzie’s room. “And we have nineteen minutes until our neighbor wakes up.”

“That’s not much time.”

He kicked off his shoes and lost his jeans and boxers. “Not much time? You know what I can do in one minute and eleven seconds.” He closed in on her, naked as the day he was born, his cock glistening with his arousal.

She blushed that perfect shade of pink, matching her apron and the giant rock on her finger. “Oh, I know what you can do.”

He trailed his index finger along the edge of her apron, savoring the velvety softness of her porcelain skin. “I’m about to wrinkle the fuck out of that apron.”

“It’s supposed to be wrinkle-proof.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Oh, it’s a challenge.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “You’re missing something.”

“Am I?”

He went to the dresser and removed a little box. “This was supposed to be a Christmas gift, but I want to see it on you. I don’t want to wait.” He removed a dainty gold chain with a number eleven charm intricately crafted from starry quartzite. The flecks shimmered, holding a secret shared only between them.

“It’s beautiful,” she said as he hooked the clasp.

“I had them make it from a piece of the stone your grandfather wanted you to return to me. You have a piece of us both and…”

“And…” she repeated.

“Everyone will know your heart belongs to number eleven.”

“Isn’t this enough?” she asked, raising her left hand adorned with the sparkling pink diamond ring. But the tears in her eyes revealed how profoundly his gesture had touched her.

He offered a teasing shrug. “I like to be thorough in claiming what’s mine. Now,” he continued, his voice gravelly and commanding, “turn around and walk into the bathroom. I need another view of that pretty little ass.”

She traced the charm with a light touch, her fingers moving with a sensual rhythm, and her deliberate movements damn near drove him out of his mind.

“So…you want to watch me do something like this?” she asked, pushing onto her tiptoes as she owned the room, strutting toward the bathroom.

He followed behind. “Have you considered a clothing-optional bakery model?”

“I wonder what the town would think of that. I’m sure Nico would be on board,” she mused with a wry grin, catching his eye in the mirror’s reflection.

“Fuck that,” he answered, his voice low and rough as he moved in on her. “I changed my mind, TBD. My naked blushing baker is an at-home only activity.”

He came up behind her and kissed her neck as he slipped one hand between her thighs. He massaged her sweet bud, and she hummed a dirty purr of delight.

“This is how you want it,” he said against the shell of her ear.

She closed her eyes and arched her back. “Yes.”

He felt her breasts through the soft cotton, her nipples tightening into perfect pearls that pressed into the fabric. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her arousal fed his desire. His pulse quickened, sensing her need for release intensifying. The blush on her cheeks consumed her neck. He rubbed his cock against her ass and inhaled a tight breath, reveling in the friction between their bodies.

“I want to feel you. Please, let me feel you,” she whispered, gasping as he increased the pressure and pace. He slipped a finger inside her and found her hot, wet, and aching for his cock.

He gripped her waist and lifted her, setting her on the edge of the sink. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he claimed her mouth. The apron bunched at her waist as he kissed her and palmed her ass. He slid into her slowly, languidly, savoring the moment as they became one.

“You feel so good, so perfect,” he said and drew his tongue across the seam of her lips.

She rewarded him by clenching her core. He tightened his grip on her ass and tilted her hips, making love to her in long, fluid strokes. At this angle, he could fill her tight, wet heat to the hilt and create delicious friction against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He focused on her, fixated on her pleasure as raw desire took over, and his need to make her come hard on his cock had him near delirious. He pistoned his hips. With each punishing thrust, her breasts heaved beneath the pink cotton, a sensual scene that had him on the precipice of release.

She tightened around him. “Christian, Christian…” she moaned, flying over the edge in a glorious cascade of breath and sweat and pulsing energy.

“Take it…take everything. It’s yours,” he gritted between shallow breaths, kissing her, tasting her, so in sync with her body, he had no idea where he began and she ended.

Lost in a sea of ecstasy, she threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled. That sweet bite of pain was his undoing. He joined her, hurdling into the abyss, awash in her scent, her touch, and their rasping breaths mingling in the slice of space between them.

He held her close and supported her as she wound down from her euphoric spiral. The necklace’s charm dangled against her back. He marveled at the sight of his number caressing her skin, his ring securely on her finger, and his heart wholly in her hands. “I love you, Maggie,” he whispered as he gently rested his chin on the crown of her head and smiled the warm, sated grin of a man who had everything that mattered.

She looked up at him, and he stroked her cheek. “Margaret Kathleen Michaels Starrycard,” he said softly, drinking her in.

“What are you doing?” she asked, staring at him in all her pink-cheeked perfection.

“I like to say it. I love the sound of it.”

“Me too.”

“Me too!” McKenzie called—from the other side of the door.

“Kenz?” he exclaimed, the mood snapping from tender to panicked. “What are you doing out there?” he called as he and Maggie scrambled, grabbing towels and wrapping them around their bodies. Thank God he’d shut the bathroom door.

“I just came into your and Maggie’s room through our door.”

“How long have you been there?” he asked, cringing.

“I heard you saying Maggie’s name. Are you gonna make her spell it? That’s what Miss Higgins does in our second-grade class.”

“No, not right now,” he said, turning to Maggie and giving her the international look for what the fuck are we supposed to do?

“It’s early, Kenz, and it’s a holiday. You should be sleeping in,” Maggie said, securing the towel around her apron-clad body.

“It’s Aunt Caroline. She needs us. I need to tell everyone.”

Oh shit!

“Is she okay?” he called, but the child didn’t answer. All he could hear was a stampede of steps as she booked it out of the room.

Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam!

“It’s an emergency! Everybody, get up!” she called, going door to door, banging like she was leading an FBI raid.

The stillness of the early morning was shattered by rising voices echoing through the hall as his family gathered outside their guest rooms.

“But Caroline’s not even here,” Maggie said, worry laced into her words.

“She must have called or emailed McKenzie,” he replied as they hurried out of the bathroom, then came to an abrupt stop in the hallway. “What the hell is this?” he asked, taking in the spectacle.

The entire group stood in the hallway, clad only in towels.

“We were…deciding who would take a shower first,” his father said sheepishly.

“Everybody except Uncle Owen was in the bathroom when I went knocking on doors. You guys must really like to fight over who gets to shower first. Is that why you’re all naked?”

Christian parted his lips to speak, but nothing came out. Was everyone getting it on? He shared a look with Maggie, then realized she still had on the apron below the towel.

Oh, no!

“But Maggie isn’t naked. I like the new apron. Why are you wearing it without clothes?” the child asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Because…” Maggie eked out, looking to him, eyes pleading for him to bail her out.

“She wanted to test to see if it would get wrinkled,” he supplied, feeling pretty damned good about that save.

“Get wrinkled doing what?” his precocious niece pressed.

“Yeah, doing what?” Eliza chirped with a sly Starrycard grin in place.

“Probably bathroom yoga like you and Daddy do, Mommy,” Kenz answered, not missing a beat.

“Touché,” Jack said, biting back a grin as his wife hung her head.

Christian’s gaze landed on Owen, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. “What the actual hell are you wearing?” he blurted out, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Owen glanced down at his ensemble, completely unfazed. “They’re flannel footed pajamas. They’re warm and cozy. What about them?”

Finn burst into laughter, shaking his head in mock horror. “I think I figured out why you can’t find anyone to date,” he teased, his grin widening. “That’s straight-up serial killer stuff, man.”

“Finn, I thought you were an axe-murderer mountain man when we met,” Hailey countered, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“But those are hot,” Finn answered. “Mister Flannel Footie over here is?—”

“Uncle Finn, stop worrying about Uncle Owen’s baby onesie pajamas, and look at this!” McKenzie interrupted, her voice high-pitched with urgency as she held out her phone.

“Baby onesie pajamas?” Owen muttered under his breath, clearly miffed, but his attention quickly shifted to the child.

“Caroline’s Future depends on what you do next,” his father read, sharing a concerned look with his mother.

“Aunt Caroline’s been kidnapped!” McKenzie cried, her eyes wide with fear.

Owen immediately crouched down to her level. “No, Kenz, I don’t think so. Don’t get upset,” he reassured her, taking the phone from the child’s trembling hands. “Caroline’s Future is the name of a project. This is an e-greeting card site. I know it because Caroline keeps sending me this stuff, telling me we need to expand in what we offer at Starrycard Creek Paper Company. It looks like a proof to approve a design.”

“Is she okay?” Rex asked, worry creasing his brow.

“Yeah, I believe so…but…” Owen eyed McKenzie.

Christian picked up on his brother’s apprehension. “Hey, Kenz,” he said casually. “I hear Lucky downstairs. I bet he needs to go out. Could you run down and keep an eye on him?”

McKenzie’s gaze swept over the group, her eyes lingering on each adult before she nodded.

“We’ll tell you if Caroline needs help. I promise,” he said, reassuring her.

“Okay, Uncle Chris,” she replied and bounded down the staircase.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the reality of their situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He was nearly naked, surrounded by almost everyone in his family and their significant others—also nearly naked. It was bizarre, to say the least.

“What’s the deal with the towels? Weren’t you people sleeping?” Owen asked, his confusion evident as he glanced around at the group.

“We were showering, separately, like grown-ups do, honey,” Maeve answered smoothly.

“We weren’t,” Rex replied with a wide grin as he cast a loving look at his wife.

“No, sir, we were not,” Goldie cooed. “And Christian, the new mattresses you purchased for the guest rooms are pure bliss for making love.”

Oh, Christ on a cracker!

“Goldie! Grandpa! Ew!” Christian lamented.

Finn clapped a hand over his mouth, his face twisted in horror. “Stop talking, Goldie,” he begged, his voice muffled.

“My ears will bleed if I hear any more,” Eliza added, her expression one of mock disgust.

“What?” Goldie replied, grinning. “Who doesn’t want to get in a little pre-meal hanky-panky? That’s certainly not happening after I’ve eaten my weight in turkey, mashed potatoes, and pie. I’ll tell you that.”

“I wish you hadn’t told us anything,” Kieran murmured as Izzy giggled beside him, clearly enjoying the Starrycard chaos.

Ping!

Ding!

Ping!

Everyone glanced toward their rooms.

“Whatever McKenzie received from Caroline has likely hit our in-boxes. My guess is she mistakenly included everyone’s email when she requested a proof of an e-card she was working on,” Owen explained.

The family huddled around McKenzie’s phone.

“Is it safe to open and click?” Izzy asked.

Owen nodded. “Yeah, I’ve checked out this site before. I’ll do it.” His brother tapped the screen, then tapped again. “It’s an e-Christmas card with a picture of Caroline and…some dude.”

“Who’s the dude?” Kieran asked, leaning in closer.

Christian narrowed his gaze. “I don’t recognize him.”

“Look, it says tap to approve Caroline’s Future holiday message,” Maggie offered.

“Here goes. I’ll read it aloud,” Owen said, tapped again, then frowned.

“What is it?” Maeve pressed.

“It says, ‘Everyone’s favorite train wreck of a Starrycard has got herself a lightning-hot career and a sexy boyfriend who’s a beast in the sack. Merry Christmas, and see you soon, Turd Burgers! Love and kisses, Caroline.’”

The hallway fell silent for a split second before erupting into a cacophony of voices.

“Well, that’s…” Goldie began, sharing a curious look with her husband.

“One hell of a Christmas greeting,” Rex finished as the family continued to buzz with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“Is this a stunt?”

“Maybe she needs cash?”

“Caroline has a boyfriend?”

Christian wrapped his arm around Maggie, taking in the scene. He had a strong hunch that his little sister was about to desperately wish she could become invisible.

“Is Caroline all right?” Maggie asked softly as his family continued to discuss the youngest Starrycard’s welfare.

He chuckled. “Buckle up, TBD. This coming Starrycard Christmas looks like it’s going to be a wild one.”