Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 25 TRISTAN

I keep my hand firmly planted in hers as the doctor tells us her diagnosis, as she answers questions and pays her fee, as she’s released, as we walk out to the car, and the entire drive back home.

The blood scared me.

She was right…it was a lot.

But the way my instincts took over tell me I can do this. Every first-time parent is scared. It’s natural. But when the baby is in danger, you set aside that fear and adrenaline kicks in.

I feel like once the baby is here, that’s pretty much what it’ll be like. A balance between fear and adrenaline.

She clears her throat, breaking the silence as we both recover from that fear mixed with adrenaline in the car on the way home.

“So I guess I can’t go to Vegas with you,” she murmurs.

I squeeze her hand where I still clutch it. “It’s okay. I’ll just text Ben and tell him I can’t come.”

She shakes her head. “No, no. Don’t do that. This is your big bash, and you deserve to celebrate the fact that she’s not your wife anymore.”

“I’d rather celebrate that with you,” I murmur, and she squirms a little.

“The doctor said pelvic rest,” she says, regret in her tone. “So as much as I wish I could take you up on that, we’re going to have to wait.”

“I didn’t mean sex,” I amend. “I just like spending time with you.” Although if I would’ve known that the quickie in our new kitchen today would’ve been the last time for a while, I might’ve taken my time instead of ravaging her the way I did.

“I like spending time with you, too. It feels like we’re already back to where we were, like we paused for a bit but picked up where we were supposed to.” She glances over at me.

“I feel that too,” I say. “We’re like a boring old married couple already.”

She laughs. “I’d hardly call us boring. Me knocked up, you a celebrity…it’s always going to be a little chaotic for us, isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “Not when we’re at our home in Fallon Ridge. It’s our happy place. The calm amidst the chaos.”

“Fallon,” she says suddenly out of the blue.

“Fallon?” I repeat.

“Fallon Higgins,” she says as if she’s trying it on for size.

“Fallon Higgins,” I repeat. “Wait…Higgins?”

“If it’s going to be my last name, it’s going to be her last name. I looked into adding you as the father on the birth certificate. I can’t legally list someone other than her biological father, but there’s a special affidavit we can complete to make it legal.” She squeezes my hand. “You’ll be her father in all the ways that matter.”

I wish I wasn’t driving so I could take her in my arms at her words, so we could seal that promise with a kiss. It’s everything I ever wanted with the one person I ever wanted it with.

“Thank you,” I say softly instead.

We pull onto Oak Tree Lane, and I help her inside. I take her all the way to her bathroom, and I help her into the shower. I clean up the bathroom, tossing her bloody underwear into the garbage can, and then I join her in the shower. I press my lips softly to hers before I fill the loofah with her jasmine soap and wash away the day—both the good parts, like the festival, and the hard parts, like the ER visit.

The bubbles swirl down the drain, and I pull her closer to me. “I love you,” I say, and then I take her mouth with mine. My dick is hard for her like always, and it presses into the side of her belly between us.

She pulls back breathlessly after a moment, her chest rising and falling as she pants. “I love you, too. But I’m on pelvic rest, and kissing like that when we’re already naked is only going to lead to things that are not very restful for my pelvis.”

I chuckle, and I press a soft kiss to her lips again. “I’ll finish up in here, then,” I say, and she gets out to dry off while I scrub myself clean, the scent of her jasmine on my skin a total turn-on. Once she steps out of the bathroom to get some clothes out of her room, I take care of business. The soap is nice and slippery, and combined with the water while I stroke myself, it isn’t long before I’m coming all over my hand.

I wash the mess away down the drain, and then I get out of the shower, much more relaxed than when I stepped into the bathroom four hours ago after a frantic phone call.

She’s already asleep by the time I get out of the shower. I throw on my dirty clothes, run home to change into clean shorts and a t-shirt, and slip back into her window.

And then I hold her in my arms until morning.

I wake to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand beside me. It’s only eight—too early given the fact that we didn’t go to bed until well after four in the morning—so I grab my phone to silence it before it wakes Tessa up.

I check it, and I have a bunch of missed calls and text messages from Ellie.

I look through the texts.

The first couple were from last night.

Ellie: The festival was incredible. I posted a bunch of photos on your social media.

Ellie: Did you find out the total amount raised yet? I’d like to post that, too.

And the next few came through this morning.

Ellie: Did you see all the attention on your Instagram?

Ellie: Can we meet somewhere for breakfast so I can go over a few things with you?

Ellie: Our flight leaves at three, so we’ll be getting on the road toward Chicago around noon.

Ellie: You just crossed one million followers on Instagram.

One million?

I was just at eight hundred thousand last I checked a month or so ago.

What happened? What, exactly, has Ellie been posting?

I open the social media app to take a look for myself, and I see a bunch of photos from the Aces weight room. All ones where I’m not wearing a shirt or where my biceps are highlighted.

I mean…I’m proud of my biceps. I’m proud of my abdomen. I work my ass off in the gym and I try to eat right most of the time so I’m in peak physical condition for my performances on the field.

But I’d never post these photos of myself. I guess that’s why I hired Ellie. She knows what attracts people, and the more followers I have on my social media platforms, the more offers start to roll in.

And the more… inappropriate the comments become.

Some are just emojis. Water droplets or hearts. Some offer marriage, and others offer a bed. But none of them are appropriate things you’d say to someone engaged to another woman.

It’s part of the territory, I guess. It’s just the part I’ve never gotten accustomed to. I’m still trying to figure all this out, and I spent the first two years of it married to the wrong woman. I’ll spend the rest of my career married to the right one.

Ellie’s made mention of how appealing to the female audience is what will grow my account, but is it worth the price? Is it worth appealing to the females and allowing them to think they’ve got a shot with me when they just don’t?

I scroll through my photos from yesterday and decide to post one of my own. It’s not curated by my publicist, but this is my account and I want people to know how goddamn happy I am…and how there’s not a chance in hell for anybody else.

She hasn’t even had a chance to tell her mom that we’re engaged yet. Between the festival and the emergency room, it’s been a whirlwind. So I don’t post a ring as my caption, but I do find a selfie of the two of us cheesing for the camera. I think about what to write, and I finally settle on keeping it simple.

Finally back with the love of my life.

I post the picture and close the app, and then I text Ellie.

Me: I can meet you in the Quad Cities in about a half hour. There’s a diner just around the corner from your hotel.

She texts back right away confirming our breakfast date, and I slip quietly out of bed. Despite my efforts not to wake her, she rustles. “Where are you going?” she whispers sleepily.

“Ellie asked if I could meet her for breakfast before they head back to Vegas,” I say. “You’re more than welcome to come with, but you need your rest.”

“I can rest all day. Let’s go get some food,” she says, sitting up and wincing a little.

I rush over. “Is everything okay?”

She nods. “My hips just kill me in this bed. The mattress is just so unforgivingly firm.”

I make a mental note to get a better mattress for our house.

“Maybe you should sleep at my house the next few days until we can move into our house. My mattress is much softer.”

“That’s a good idea. I was thinking the recliner in the family room might work, too. When are you meeting Ellie?” she asks.

“I’ll run home to change and meet you out front in ten minutes. Does that work?” I ask.

She nods, and I climb out the window.

Ten minutes later, I’m standing by the truck as she walks out the front door. Her mom is already at church since it’s a Sunday morning, and the roads are quiet through town as we make our way to the highway.

“Hard to believe there was a huge festival here yesterday. The clean-up crew did an amazing job,” she muses.

“I think the person who assigned the clean-up crew is the one who did an amazing job,” I counter, and she blushes a little. “Would you do this again?”

“The festival?” she clarifies.

I nod.

“Yeah, I would.” She glances around at the shops and restaurants down Main Street. “It was a lot of work, but it was so much fun planning it. I already have ideas for next year, and I’d love to talk to some of the attendees and get a handle on what they thought went well, what they thought we could change. That sort of thing. I’d like to get the local businesses even more involved, but they really showed up for us yesterday.”

“Did you ever get a final total?” I ask.

She nods. “Darlene sent me a screenshot of her spreadsheet.” She opens her phone and starts reading from the email Darlene, the accountant who volunteered her efforts for our event, sent. “We sold a little over twenty-seven hundred tickets at five bucks apiece. The auction raised seven thousand, the raffle was six, and the games raised about twelve hundred. With other donations, we’re looking at giving Landon’s family just under thirty thousand dollars.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper. A feeling of pride permeates my chest. We did that .

I can’t even imagine how much that will help Landon and his family, and I want to do it again. Year after year, I want to find a way to give back to the community I love so much. Our community.

“Incredible, right?”

I glance over at her and catch her eye. “Yeah,” I murmur. “You sure are.”