Hothead (Irresistible 4)

“I love you so fucking much, Evie,” I said, knowing well that I meant those words more than any I’d ever spoken in my life.

The certainty made me almost want to laugh as I stood there with the full knowledge that I was holding the woman I was going to marry, in the room our child would be sleeping in within seven months. All the most important things in my world were right in this room, and life had never felt so good. Or simple.

I had to smirk as I thought about the total lack of content the tabloids were about to deal with. Drew Maddox Rubs Wife’s Feet Before Bed, Wakes Up First to Change Diapers.

“Why are you laughing to yourself right now?” Evie giggled up at me as I kissed her on the forehead.

“No idea. Too many things,” I grinned.

And it was the truth. I still didn’t have all the answers, but in Evie, I had my definition of love and trust. And if there was anything I knew for sure, it was that if I had her at my side, I had everything I needed.

Now, forever and always.

Epilogue

EVIE

Four Months Later

I had been standing for an entire inning now, and I couldn’t tell if I was squeezing Aly’s hand numb, or if she was squeezing mine numb. I was pretty sure it was even because we were equally nervous – she as a lifelong Empires fan, and me as the one person who knew just how badly Drew Maddox needed this win.

The stakes were high enough that I actually watched every second of the game instead of drifting off here and there to ogle how damned good my boyfriend looked on the mound.

During the regular season, it was definitely a problem.

I usually sat in a suite behind home plate with Aly and Emmett, and despite having the game right in front of me – and seats most people would kill for – I generally just hawked the TV broadcast on the flat screen, waiting for those close-ups of Drew’s green eyes framed between the bill of his cap and his glove.

They were just so damned gorgeous and every time I saw them, I touched my belly to ask the little one a silent question.

Do you have his eyes or mine? No pressure at all. I’m just curious. But I kind of hope you have his.

That was usually how it went, but there was no ogling today. Because this was crunch time.

Game 7 of the World Series. Bottom of the ninth. Empires up 4-2 with one on, two outs and the count at three and two.

I literally had no idea what any of these numbers meant at the beginning of the summer, and if I had to be completely honest, I still sometimes cheered prematurely and needed to ask Aly why something wasn’t considered an out.

But tonight, I knew exactly what was happening – not just because this was the biggest game in Drew’s life but because my man had already made history.

It wasn’t common for pitchers to go nine innings in even a regular season game, but in the final game of the World Series, nine innings later, Drew was still on the mound – sore, aching, but still locked in beast mode and striking out batters on ninety-five mile-per-hour fastballs.

He was still laboring, and now he was only one out away from winning it all.

“Omigod, omigod, here we go, here we go,” Aly whispered as Drew wound up for his next pitch. As he delivered, she gripped my hand so tight her engagement ring crushed my fingers, but I didn’t even register the pain till I saw the swing and heard the crack of the bat.

> Fuck.

There was a collective gasp in the stadium followed by utter silence as fifty thousand pairs of eyes flew to follow the ball of white that soared high in the sky, eventually landed foul in the seats.

Then came the collective exhale.

“Oh God, thank God,” I squeaked as the stadium returned to a buzz in anticipation of the next pitch.

“Come on, come on, I can’t take this stress anymore,” Aly breathed, squeezing my hand as we both bounced on our toes.

“Me neither, and I’m feeling very left out,” Emmett hissed on her right, to which we both went shh because Drew was getting into position again, preparing for another wind-up on hopefully the final pitch of the season.

Okay, maybe I was lying about the lack of ogling, because God he looked so damned tall and powerful on that mound. I held my breath as I watched that long body turn to wind up for the next pitch.