Sacked (The New York Nighthawks 1)

“Ugh, this again,” Ember groaned, her shoulders slumping.

“What again?” Nixon asked.

She slid a sideways glance at him and shook her head. “This is the part when your sister tries to fix me up with whatever amazing guy that she thinks is the one for me this month.”

When I had tried to set her up with Axton before the wedding—using the convenient excuse that she was my maid of honor and he was the best man, so it would be good for them to get to know each other—she’d put me off with an excuse about being too busy with school to worry about dating anyone. But now that she was on spring break and summer was coming up, she would need a different, and better, excuse to get me to back down.

Bouncing in my seat, I clapped my hands together. “But no, really. I finally found the perfect guy to set you up with. He’s one of Prentice and Nix’s teammates. So cute and sweet.”

“Cute?” Prentice growled, his eyes narrowing.

I leaned close and brushed my lips against his cheek. “I don’t personally think he’s cute, but that’s what all of the magazines say about Jordan.”

Prentice glanced at my brother. “Remind me to kick his ass during the next practice.”

“Now you’re just being silly.” I rubbed my rounded belly with a sigh. “You know you’re the only man for me.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed.

“Just because you’re all loved up doesn’t mean you need to play matchmaker for everyone else,” Nixon grumbled before stabbing his fork in a piece of zucchini and shoving it in his mouth.

I wasn’t sure what had crawled up my brother’s butt and died, but I hoped he got over it soon. I didn’t want his surliness to rub off on his nephew when he was born. “Not everyone else. Just Ember. I didn’t say anything about trying to set you up with someone, did I?”

“Not yet, anyway.” Prentice slung his arm over the back of my chair. “I’m sure you’ll get around to it now that you’re done with all the wedding planning.”

“You know what?” Ember asked, her jaw set in a firm line.

I scooted to the edge of my seat, anticipation strumming through my veins. “What?”

“Go ahead. Set me up. I trust you.”

Epilogue

Prentice

“How’s the family?” I asked my old friend, Brysen Mariano. He’d been a professional football player back in the day until a shoulder injury cut his career short. We met at a football camp he helped run when I was in high school.

Despite being a decade or so older than me, we’d formed a bond and stayed in touch. He’d brought his family to New York for a vacation, so we made plans to meet up for coffee.

“Elisa is still kicking ass as a real estate agent even though she’s only doing it part time so she can spend most of her time at home with our kids.”

“And how many of those do you have now? A dozen?”

Brysen rolled his eyes. “Four, dipshit. And I don’t think you have room to talk. Isn’t your wife about to pop out your third?”

I grinned. “Yeah. Any day now. She—”

Naomi’s special ringtone started playing, and I nearly dropped my phone in my haste to pick it up from the table and answer it. “Baby, are you all right?”

“No, you jackass! I’m in labor because you can’t keep your big dick wrapped up!”

I grinned because she couldn’t see it. Naomi ranted and raved when she was in labor until our baby was in her arms and she melted into a puddle of love. She also seemed to conveniently forget that she’d been the one to tell me she was ready for another.

It was pretty hilarious, but no one would ever tell her that. Nixon and I both feared for our balls. Pregnant women were a hell of a lot stronger than people assumed.

“I’ll be right there. I love you,” I said, already jumping to my feet and grabbing my jacket.

“We’re never having sex again!” she yelled before hanging up.

Brysen was laughing, so I assumed he’d overheard our conversation. Naomi hadn’t exactly been speaking quietly. He waved me off. “Go, I’ve got this. Call when you get a chance and let us know the baby and your wife are doing great.”

“Will do!” I shouted as I sprinted to the door.

Three hours later, I’d been reamed out by my wife a dozen or so times, my hand was bruised from her gripping it, and I had tears in my eyes as I watched the nurse hand her our baby girl.

“She’s so perfect,” Naomi breathed.

“Like her mother,” I whispered as I sat beside her on the bed and slipped my arms around them both. “How did I get so fucking lucky?”

Naomi shot a glare at me and hissed, “You have to stop swearing in front of our children, Prentice. The other day, Clara told her teacher she couldn’t find a damn pencil.”