Hard Luck (Trophy Boyfriends 4)

I can’t even imagine, but I’m about to soon discover it.

“Familia is the most important thing to me. I don’t know how many facts you know about me, but I grew up with six sisters—five older, one younger—and always knew I wanted a big family. Or maybe I just knew I wanted to start a family while I was still younger.”

The throng cheers.

Lots of wolf whistles.

Shouting.

All I can think is If he proposes to me right now, I am literally going to leap over this netting to wring his neck.

“A few months ago, I met someone.” Loud cheering. “Yes, yes, I know. But she’s a private young woman, and she is going to kill me for even saying this.”

Kill him? That’s an understatement.

“So I met this young woman, and together we…”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, do not say it.

He says it.

“Well…we’re having a baby, guys!” Mateo throws his hands in the air. “I’m going to be a daddy!”

Everyone in the stands jumps to their feet to thunderous ovations, the applause deafening—more so than when the Chicago Steam won the game today on the “home” soil of their spring training stadium.

I cover my ears but have a stupid grin on my face, one I probably won’t be able to wipe off for hours.

Ugh, why is he like this?

Still, I’m biting my bottom lip to stop the tears of happiness from spilling out of my eyes.

Seeing Mateo so happy makes me happy.

What a weird, wild trip this pregnancy has been, and it keeps getting better.

Last night when we were in bed together after he’d spent the entire day working, he crawled in and held me close, and we talked about names and things we want the baby to learn and ways we want to parent.

Strict but loving, no nonsense.

I draw my attention back to Mateo, who hasn’t said my name or pointed me out to anyone—at least I can have some anonymity while I’m sitting here.

“It’s a girl!” he adds with a yelp, leaping up to celebrate, tossing his hat into the air like a graduation cap.

It flies onto the grass where the shortstop usually stands.

From somewhere to the left of the diamond, my brother emerges—probably from the dugout, stomping across the dirt field to where Mateo stands, kicking up dust along the way.

“I knew it!” he hollers, running to the center of the field and grabbing Mateo, hauling him up off the ground and spinning him in circles like they just scored the winning home run in a long-fought game.

Then, Buzz sets Mateo down on the ground, extends his hand, and reaches for the microphone.

“Hey! I also have something to say!”

I doubt the crowd was expecting a show like this—nay, a spectacle—but they’re certainly in for a rare treat.

Totally getting their money’s worth.

“My wife is pregnant too!”

My brother and…boyfriend embrace again, whooping and hollering like frat brothers at a keg party.

My jaw drops open even as I jump up out of my seat and grin down at Hollis. “Ha! I knew it!”

I lean down and hug her, fans surrounding us and congratulating her as she’s one of the more visible and popular social media darlings of all the WAGs on the team.

No one knows me, but they most certainly know Hollis Wallace.

She groans and holds her belly. “When does this get better?”

I rub her back even as the crowd loudly applauds around us.

“I don’t know, but we get to do it together.”

We.

Us.

One big wild and crazy family.

How lucky we are.

The End