His arms circle my waist and he bends to kiss me softly. “I’ll be around. Remember, we’re here for two weeks. No need to prove your excellence on day one.”
“I promise to ease into things.”
I take his hand and go to the training area. He squeezes me encouragingly before urging me through the door with a gentle shove.
Cal’s waiting near a set of mats and grinning smugly. He’s waited patiently for his turn to work with me. This will be brutal, and I can’t wait. Although we all know the chances of me returning to my role are slim, he’s not ready to give up. Neither am I.
“Let’s do this.” I kick off my shoes and crack my neck.
“You know the drill. Tell me if anything gets to be too much.” He lays out his plan for the day, and at first, it sounds too basic.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize I misjudged. He works me hard, pushing me to the limits and critiquing my movements. After two hours, he ends our session, and I collapse on the mat, heaving. My clothes and hair are soaked, my muscles are protesting, and my lungs are screaming for relief.
“Thought you said you were in shape.” He smirks.
“Day one is a killer. Wait until tomorrow,” I pant.
“Abundance of fluids, proteins, and carbs, no alcohol tonight.”
I nod.
“How’s everything feel?”
“My legs and arms are jelly, my muscles are on fire, and my heart is trying to recuperate. But no pops, rips, or crunches, so I’d say we’re good to go. The heel and knee are okay.”
“Good.”
“Could you call my husband to get me? Otherwise, I may spend the night on this floor mat.”
He snickers, shaking his head and motioning behind me. On a hunch, I call out, “Are you back there?”
“I’m here.”
Evin appears, standing over me a few seconds later, dressed in his own athletic gear and sweating.
“You worked out?”
“Not as hard as you,” he teases.
“I kicked ass, didn’t I, Cal?”
“You did well, Poppy. I’m glad to have you back. I’d suggest some Epsom Salt.”
“Already done,” Evin tells him, squatting beside me.
“Did I pass the first-day-back test?”
“That wasn’t a test. That was training. Get used to it.” Cal’s voice lacks any sympathy.
Despite the exhaustion seeping into my bones, I find the energy to pump my fist in the air in victory.
“He’s beautiful.”
“He’s the spitting image of Miller. I’ve given birth to a clone of my husband.”
Ashlyn is right. The newborn shots of Baby Tyler side-by-side of Miller’s are practically identical. “Well, you can’t be surprised.”
“No, I knew to expect it. The Kendrick genes are strong. Look at Cole and Pierce.”
“And Devin.”
“Yes, but Devin has a lot of Darby and Evin. That—”
“… smile,” I finish for her, picturing it. “If we have a son, I pray he looks like Evin.”
“Yeah.” She sighs happily. “It’s pretty awesome.”
Even through the phone screen, it’s easy to see her eyes sparkling. Her whole appearance is radiant. “It’s not fair. Women all over the world would kill to know the secret of how you and Darby look like supermodels days after giving birth. I thought new parents were supposed to be overwhelmed and exhausted?”
She smiles and kisses the top of Tyler’s head. “I’m hardly a supermodel. Yesterday, I shaved my legs for the first time since he was born six days ago. Comparing me to Darby is a stretch. Seriously, that woman is a force of nature.”
“So are you. I wish we were there.”
“Poppy, you have a life and obligations. We understand that.”
“It sucks we missed the birth and aren’t around to help.”
“You want to know my secret? Everyone does everything for me. My only job is to rest and take care of Tyler, which at this point is basically feeding him. Miller even helps with that, getting up with every nightly feeding. Someone is always there to swoop in when he needs changing, bathing, or anything else a newborn could need. Since I went into labor, I haven’t lifted a finger. At first, I felt guilty, but I learned to let it go. My parents, my brothers, Jill, Warren—absolutely everyone is pitching in. Maybe a little too much. When my parents return to Atlanta, it’ll be hard. That’s when the crazy Ashlyn will appear.”
“I doubt that.”
“Until then, we’ll send you daily pictures so you don’t feel left out.”
“You better.”
There’s a rustle in the background, and she flashes her smile to whoever is approaching. She sits up and Miller’s face comes into view as he straddles in behind her in their bed.
“Hey, Pips, how is it being back in the bright lights of the big city?”
“Ugh, I don’t see many bright lights. When the city comes alive is my bedtime. I lost my groove. The training is killer, and today, Dante forced me to help lead a workshop that kicked my ass. It was mortifying. I was a hot mess on steroids.”