Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors 3)

“Can I help you, Mrs. Malone?” Savannah asked, shifting nervously in her seat. “What?” she whispered at me.

“You’re just cute.” It was almost funny. I’d never so much as seen this woman flinch, and she lived under enough pressure to crush a mountain, yet my boisterous family had her antsy.

“Oh, no thank you, dear.” Mom looked over her shoulder at us with a delighted smile. “I’m just thrilled that Hendrix finally brought a girl home. You’re the first, you know.”

“Am I?” Savannah grinned, locking eyes with me. Her expression softened as she glanced at Hunter, visibly melting with a soft sigh.

“You are,” I said softly. Now that was a look I could get used to. There was a hundred-percent adoration in her gaze.

“So tell me what you do for a living, Savannah.” Mom hauled the step stool out of the pantry.

“Hold on, Mom. I’ll get whatever you need to reach. And no interrogating Savannah.” There was a very real danger of them both getting attached, and well, we’d agreed that there would be no attaching. “Can you take him?” I asked the gorgeous redhead next to me.

She nodded, but tugged her lip between her teeth. “I’ve never held a baby.”

“Well, I’m happy to assist with your first time.” A corner of my mouth lifted in a smirk.

She scoffed, but her cheeks flushed. “Hand him over.”

I lifted Hunter from my chest and put him in the same position on hers. “Here, just lean back a little and—yep, like that. Just remember to support his head if he squirms.”

Hunter settled against her chest with minimal fuss, falling back to sleep.

“He smells good.” Savannah smiled, and my heart skipped, then thundered. She was so incredibly beautiful.

“Just give him an hour and he won’t,” I promised.

“How do you do it so easily?” she asked as I stood.

“Cousins. So. Many. Cousins.” I brushed a kiss over her forehead and went to help Mom.

“You look happy,” Mom said quietly so only I could hear her.

“I am happy,” I answered, handing her the frying pan she’d been reaching for.

“She have anything to do with it?” Mom nodded toward Savannah, a knowing smile on her face.

“Uh…” I rubbed the back of my neck and debated the merits of lying to my mother. It was cruel to get her hopes up that I’d settle down, but she was right. “Yeah. Maybe.” That was a half-assed, bullshit answer, but it was all I had.

“Well, you should yeah, maybe a little more. Looks good on you.” She cracked eggs into a mixing bowl.

I glanced toward Savannah, and my breath caught. She was whispering something to Hunter, her fingers tracing a lazy pattern on his back, her expression so serene that I couldn’t help but take out my phone and snap a picture.

She looked so good, so happy with a baby that my mind tripped into another dimension where I imagined what she’d look like holding my baby. What it would be like to see that contentment on her face every day, to focus my life on making her completely, deliriously happy because her joy was mine.

You can’t fall for her. The thought slammed into me at the same exact moment she lifted her eyes to mine, flashing me a brilliant smile before turning her attention back to Hunter.

A relationship between us was impossible. She wasn’t ready for anything that would tie her down, and I’d never had a relationship last longer than the produce in my refrigerator. I wasn’t good for her—except in bed, and she wasn’t just out of my league, she was in a whole different sport. Smart, driven women recognized me for the trouble I was and stayed far away, yet this one had put herself firmly in my path. And even all those things couldn’t compare to the biggest obstacle to anything real developing.

“What is it?” Mom asked quietly. “What aren’t you telling me, Hendrix?”

“Her dad is my coach.” My chest ached as I whispered the truth to the only person I knew wouldn’t judge me for it. “He’ll kill me if he finds out. Or worse, trade me. It can’t last. It shouldn’t even have lasted this long.”

“Hmmm.” She cracked another egg. “You love this girl?”

I blinked, ripping my eyes from Savannah’s profile to look at Mom, who peered up at me with raised eyebrows. “It’s a little early for that.”

“Not if that’s Savannah Goodman, it’s not.” She went back to cracking the eggs. “I might be getting a little forgetful, but I listen when you talk, Hendrix, and that girl has been in your stories for years. People grow up, change, grow apart…or grow together. I’d guess this is a case of the latter. Seems a shame to waste something rare because you’re afraid of what people will think.” She finished the eighteen-pack and reached for the whisk.