Winger (Seattle Sharks 3)

“Can I help you?” I young male sales associate asked as we headed straight to the clear glass case glittering with engagement rings.

“We’re looking for a ring,” Rory said, leaning his elbows on the glass as he surveyed the rings. I settled next to him, Gage on my other side as we scanned the goods.

“Wonderful,” the man said, his eyes darting over the three of us. He pointed between Rory and me. “Grooms?” he asked then pointed at Gage. “Best man?”

I pressed my lips together to contain my laugh.

Gage couldn’t hold his back, but then he nodded. “Yup,” he said, motioning to Rory. “He’s the high-maintenance one,” he said. “He needs a big rock to know he’s loved.”

Rory gaped at him. “Like there is a damn thing wrong with that?”

I snorted at the shocked look on the guy’s face—like he was suddenly wondering if the three of us would start brawling right there in his place of business.

I waved them off.

“I’m proposing to my…” I tilted my head, never having put a label on Jeannine before.

“Girlfriend tonight,” I finally finished.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh,” he continued with a laugh.

“Still don’t think I’m high-maintenance,” Rory said, shrugging.

“Well, anything catching your eye?” The guy asked, smiling at Rory’s feigned offense.

I glanced over the array of diamonds, some big and simple, some encrusted with smaller diamonds, and more. The case was stacked with rings, and yet I wasn’t sure which one she would like.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What kind of jewelry does she like?” he asked.

“I…I don’t know,” I said, racking my brain. She didn’t wear much, which made me lean toward a simpler route.

“Um,” the man said. “That’s all right. Do you know if she prefers a certain cut?”

I swallowed hard, hating that I didn’t know the answer. We hadn’t spoken about these types of things.

Ever. We’d been so focused on the baby…

“Don’t complicate it,” Gage said, almost a snarl. He tapped my chest, forcing me to look at him. “Just check them out, and see which one you think would look best on her finger.”

“Right,” Rory added, cutting a glare at the salesman.

It wasn’t the guy’s fault. He had no way of knowing that I was lacking in certain knowledge when it came to Nine. Everything between us had been a fast, frantic frenzy.

Maybe I should’ve asked her.

Maybe I should’ve paid better attention.

Maybe I was an idiot about to get shot the fuck down.

“Trust me,” Gage said, and I shook off the doubt creeping into my blood.

I nodded, slowly walking the line of the case. Clearing my head of all thoughts except the future I wanted to have with Jeannine.

Waking up to her in the morning, worshiping her at night.

Chasing her and Katherine around the house.

The guys and their families around our table for holidays.

Jeannine opening more restaurants.

Me winning more championships.

Until we both decided we’d reached our dreams enough and retired. Together.

“This one,” I said, pointing to a simple yet elegant single stone diamond on a platinum band.

“You’re sure?” The man asked, and all three of us snapped our heads to him. “Excellent choice,” he said quickly. “I’ll wrap it up for you.”

“Thanks.”

Gage clapped me on the back as the guy gathered the ring into a box and headed to the register. “Good job, man.”

“You do have taste,” Rory said, looking prouder of me than when I assisted him in scoring the winning shot against Ontario two years ago.

I rolled my eyes. “Right,” I said. “Now I just have to figure out what to say.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Gage said. “Just like you did today.”

I nodded, handing the sales guy my card. He gave me a blue bag after I signed.

The guys followed me out of the store, each of us slipping on our shades as we noticed the paparazzi across the street.

“Fuck,” I hissed, and Rory casually took the bag from my hand.

“Until you’re ready to go public,” he said, smirking. “Let them think I bought Paige another piece.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Of course,” he said, then glanced around. “Now can we track down the beer?”

Beers turned into a three-hour pool and burger fest, and I hadn’t realized how much I needed the escape until the guys were saying goodbye and I was heading home.

They helped distract me from myself, from overthinking what I was about to do.

I gripped the steering wheel, terrified of letting go as I pulled into the garage.

Once I did, I’d ask Jeannine the most important question I’d ever asked anyone before in my life.

Breathe.

I sucked in a breath, and let go.

Walked into the house, the ring box tucked safely into my pocket.

“Nine?” I called through the house and was instantly met with the harshest shush I’d ever received.

Two seconds later Jeannine rounded the corner, skidding to a stop in the kitchen with her hands raised. “I just got her down,” she snapped.

Oh fuck.

She had a bad day.

Her hair was in a wild knot on the top of her head, her shirt stained with what could only be Katherine-spit-up, and the creases in the corners of her eyes were etched in a permeant grimace.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, going to lean against the island. “You okay?” I asked even though I knew it was a dumb question.

“No, I’m so far from okay.” Her tone was half-angry, half-desperate, her blue eyes dulled to the point of exhaustion.

And it was that hint of desperation that made me realize…this was the first time I’d left her alone all day with the baby. No one here to help, she’d had to handle everything solo.

Fuck.

It didn’t matter that was the way she normally preferred things.

I hadn’t even called to see if she needed anything.

I’m a dick.

“Kat cried the entire day. Like, didn’t even stop when she was eating. She cried around my nipple!”

“Is she pooping okay?” I asked, wishing I could find the solution.

Nine rolled her eyes at me. “Yes,” she said like it was the dumbest question in the world. “Of course, I checked that. And she wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t tired. She didn’t have a fever. She was just pissed off…all day.”

And now she was the one who was pissed.

Perfect time to propose.

My internal voice had a real fucking funny sense of humor.

“And you were gone,” she continued. “And left your pick-up game shit everywhere. I almost tripped while holding Kat.”

I furrowed my brow. “It was just my bag—”

“You said you’d be gone an hour,” she cut me off. “What happened? You couldn’t call?”

I raised my hands, my mouth opening and closing a few times. “I went out with the guys for…we lost track of time.”

“Yeah,” she said, huffing. “Thanks for that.”

“Hey,” I snapped, unable to keep the adrenaline from my veins. “I get you had a shit day. And I’m sorry I wasn’t here for it. I’m here now so tell me how to help you.”

Tears glittered in her eyes, but they weren’t sad tears. They were shaped from anger and sleep deprivation and all things I couldn’t even begin to understand. “You always need me to tell you what to do. Fuck, can’t you just do it without me asking?”

I cocked a brow at her, feeling her words like a blow. “Not when I have no clue what you want.”

“Help, Warren.” She hissed. “I wanted help. Like four hours ago when she’d been on a three-hour cry-fest with no breaks.”

I took a breath

to calm the anger threatening to rise up my throat. “I said I was sorry. I’m here now, Nine. Why don’t you go take a bath? Or go over to Bailey’s. Do something for yourself. I’ll take over for the rest of the night.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Clearly I don’t.”

“You weren’t here. Because you were with your Sharks.”

“What?” My head snapped back like she’d slapped me. “You love Rory and Gage.”

“Yeah,” she snorted. “And how much do you love the team, huh? So much that you don’t want to be here, right?”

“What the absolute hell?”

“Admit it, Warren. Just do us both a favor and finally admit that we’ll always come second.” Now her eyes shifted from irrational anger to frigid fear.

“You can’t believe that—”

“What am I supposed to believe?”

“That I’ve been here every second of every day since I found out you were carrying my child.”