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Quarterback Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Sports Romance) by Claire Adams (118)


Epilogue

Zoe

 

I stood up and stretched with a yawn. The clock on my nightstand said that it was seven in the morning. Chloe was busy training the crew at the new store, and the downtown location was well staffed, so it didn’t matter what time I got up. Still, I had things to do today. I took a quick shower and shuffled through my closet to look for something to wear and settled on a simple, white sundress. It was comfortable and elegant, and I loved the way the fabric swished over my legs when I walked.

I put a pot of oatmeal on to boil, then walked back upstairs to knock on the door to the boy’s room where I heard little feet scampering across the carpet. “Boys.” The sound got louder, and the tapping sounds quickened. They were running away.

I cracked the door open and caught the sound of incoherent whispers passing between them. So far as we could tell, their twin language was simple, but every time they used it, they were up to something.

“What are you two doing?” There was a flash of black hair and baby blue pajamas flying through the air, and they jumped onto their beds.

“Nothing,” they said in time with one another.

“Come on.” I stood in between their beds. “It’s time for breakfast.”

“No.” Andrew crossed his arms over his chest.

Abel turned to him and said something to him in their language. Andrew sighed dramatically. “Fine.” He jumped down, and Abel followed us both out into the kitchen, where I set them up with bowls of oatmeal and a pair of danishes in the dining room.

“You shouldn’t spoil them like that.” Archer walked in holding a cup of coffee and kissed me on the cheek, then bit into a Danish. He was holding another in the other hand.

“I’m merely following your example.” I sat down to get started on my coffee. “Besides, the only reason Abel tells his brother to come for breakfast is because he knows he’ll get a sweet.”

Abel looked up at me with his mouth full and his eyes wide. Andrew laughed and said something in their language. Abel glared at him and fired back in what sounded like a string of expletives. Andrew turned back to his food.

“You’re not doing anything today, are you?” Archer asked.

“No, why?”

“Because I wanted to see if you’d like to spend the day with me and the boys,” he whispered. “I thought we could try to teach them to swim.”

“They’re going to love it,” I whispered back. Andrew was staring at his spoon filled with oatmeal dripping onto the table. Then, as I watched in horror, he pulled it back, and the steaming hot sludge slammed into the wall across from him. “Andrew…”

“Daba daba!” Abel pointed at him. “No.”

Andrew’s eyes went wide, he smiled, and he grabbed another spoonful to try again.

“What do we do?” I asked Archer.

He grabbed my spoon and flicked a wad of oatmeal at the boy. It hit the spoon he was holding, and he dropped it. His face scrunched up, he went red, and his mouth opened. Archer met my eyes, and I ran up to pick him up. It was too late. He was already screaming, so I carried him into the kitchen and patted him on the back. “Come on. It’s okay.”

He stopped after a moment, and Archer came in, holding Abel’s hand. Abel was looking at his brother with concern. “Boys.” He looked from Andrew to Abel. “Go back up to your rooms, okay?”

I set Andrew down, and he ran off with Abel. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He set his coffee down and wrapped his arms around me to give me a kiss.

“Something’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He walked back into the living room shaking his hips.

I followed him into the room. “What is going on, Archer?”

He sat down on the couch. “Nothing,” he said. “Sit down.” He patted the seat next to him.

“Why?” I crossed my arms over my chest and refused.

“Daddy! Daddy!” The twins rushed downstairs.

He turned back fast. “What?”

Andrew whispered something to his brother.

“No,” Abel said and shook his head wildly.

“You tell him,” Andrew said.

“Daba!” Abel stamped his foot.

“Ugh.” Andrew stepped up. “We can’t find it.”

“Find what?” I asked.

“Wait here,” Archer shot up off the couch, swept the boys into his arms and disappeared upstairs. I was not going to wait, not for one second. He was up to something, and I was going to find out exactly what it is.

I followed them upstairs and walked into the nursery, then burst into tears. “Oh, my God.”

“Zoe.” Archer was on one knee, holding a ring, and the boys were staring up at me.

“Be our new mommy!” they both yelled.

I had to stop to take a second to grab my bearings. Archer watched me closely and never once looked away.

“Come on.” Abel ran over and tugged on my dress.

“Of course,” I said.

Archer stood up and rushed over to kiss me while the boys jumped up and down with excitement. Life was never going to be the same. It was going to be better than I ever imagined it to be. 

 

EXTREME

 

By Claire Adams

 

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

 

 

Chapter One

Justin

 

It was my fight night. I sat at the back of the arena under the overhang. From my seat, I could see how rowdy and pumped the crowd was. It was smaller than what I was used to, but it was okay. I was the main event. I was the reason everyone was there that night. It felt amazing.

The noise from the crowd was deafening. It was great because I could feel the energy in the crowd. The louder they became, the more it pumped me up for the fight. Most of the people there were eagerly waiting for me to take down my latest opponent.

I liked to stand near the back and watch the crowd get ready for me to appear. It helped me use that as motivation for my fights. I always stood where they couldn’t see me so I wouldn’t distract from the fight.

“You’re gonna do great tonight, kid,” Artie said from beside me.

“I know,” I said confidently.

This circuit was small, but I was ready for a few knockouts. I was ready to climb those ranks and show them who I really was. I didn’t feel nervous. In fact, I was so pumped that I began to bounce around a little bit. It kept my blood flowing.

I heard the announcer’s voice echo through the arena as he announced my opponent. I didn’t really pay attention to his name because I knew I would knock him out so quickly that it wouldn’t matter. Then, I heard my own name.

“And he’s here to climb the ranks, hoping to go further than anyone before him, JUUUUSTIIIIIIN SIIIIIMOOOOON!” he drug my name out for effect. My heart raced with anticipation. I loved hearing my name announced.

The crowd went wild, screaming, cheering, clapping, and chanting. There were a few boos, but from the sound of it, there weren’t very many. It was easy to block those out.

I followed Artie, my coach, down the aisle to the cage. People screamed at me as I walked by. I fist bumped a few of my fans and elicited even more cheers.

I could make out what some of them were saying, “Yeah!! Justin!” and “Kick his ass!” “Knock him down!” “You got this bro!” I appreciated my fans because I worked so hard to get to where I was. Four years ago, I wasn’t much of anything. I was nothing more than a walking mess, and now there I was, making a name for myself in the world of MMA.

It always made me laugh when people I barely knew would call me “bro.” It always seemed to be my die-hard fans that used that term of brotherhood. Even though they probably didn’t know a single thing about me, it never bothered me. They were the reason I kept going. They were the reason I continued to step into that cage fight after fight.

I entered the cage and looked around. A few of the newer fighters were right in front. They were hoping to pick up a few tips from me that night. They wanted to be up close and personal with me. They wanted to learn from me. Knowing there were fighters who wanted to be like me was more flattering than anything I’d ever felt before.

I looked around the crowd a little more. I took in so many faces, but none were memorable. Then, I spotted her. Anna. I was so glad to see her. I’d asked her to come, but I half-expected she wouldn’t show. That might have made for an awkward appointment the next time I met with her, but she was there, and she looked so hot sitting there watching me. She was close enough to see all the action, but far enough away to avoid the bodily fluids that might fly off during the fights. Smart girl. It was something I liked about her. She was sitting next to a girl who looked a little like her. They were whispering and, for a moment, I wished I could hear what they were saying.

I put my mouth piece in and smiled at her. She smiled back, and it was enough to drive me crazy. She had the best smile I had ever seen in my life.

I had never been with her, but I thought about it a lot. She was so hot. And not to mention, she was one of the sweetest girls I had ever met. Hot and sweet had always been a deadly combination for me in a woman. I was ready to show off for her so she could see how much of a man I was.

Anna was my massage therapist, and even though I hadn’t been with anyone in four years, I always thought it would be fun to date her.

From my spot in the cage, I could barely make out her dark brown hair and eyes. They both looked almost black because of the lighting. She had the best body and was a total knockout. I couldn’t get enough of her when she was around.

I was hoping she would stick around after my fight so I could talk to her for a minute. My mind was far away, focused on Anna, when I heard Artie trying to get my attention.

“I need you to focus,” Artie said, snapping me back to reality. “Let’s talk strategy before you get out there.”

I nodded my head because there was no point in trying to talk with my mouth piece in. I would have had to remove it in order to form any coherent sentences.

“This guy should be a walk in the park for you. All you need to do is watch for when he puts his guard down and then hit him high. You’ll get a KO for sure,” he said.

I studied my opponent for a minute. Artie was right. He had been in this business for a long time. I always trusted his judgment in the cage. I had to. I knew there was no way I would ever win a fight without him as my coach. I nodded my head again to show Artie that I understood him and was going to follow his advice.

The bell rang, and I turned my attention to my opponent. He was about my height but didn’t seem to have as much muscle mass as me. We bounced around in a circle in the middle of the cage, dancing in and out of each other’s reach. I don’t know how long we played with each other before he aimed for my face. I blocked it easily, but then he got me in the ribs. I told myself that wouldn’t happen again.

It didn’t hurt that bad. The guy didn’t hit too hard, which showed me his weakness. I aimed for his ribs with my left fist as a distraction. When he ducked, I hit him in the cheek with my right fist. I was good at this because I always made sure to be one step ahead of my opponent.

He got me in my stomach, again. Still not as hard as you would think for a fighter. I had been hit harder by my friends. My confidence soared.

I led him around in a circle and blocked a few more shots. I aimed for his stomach and ribs. He blocked them, but that was my intention. I was playing with the guy, trying to wear him out. He was playing right into my plan. He aimed for my ribs a couple more times, and got one in, but I blocked most of them.

When the bell for the third round rang, I could tell this guy was exhausted. It was perfect. This was exactly where I wanted him. Worn and unable to predict my next move. I hit him with a right hook and then an upper cut. That was all it took. He fell to the ground, hitting the mat hard.

The ref went over to him and counted to three. When my opponent didn’t get back up, the ref called it a KO. He announced me as the winner. Talk about an ego boost. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, and I felt invincible.

With the fight over, I tuned back in to the noise around me. The crowd was going wild.

“JUSTIN! JUSTIN! JUSTIN!” they chanted and cheered.

It didn’t matter if it was an easy fight or a tough one; every win felt just as amazing as the previous one. I loved it. The surge of energy that came with winning always felt amazing.

When I first started out, I didn’t know how good I was going to be. But as I started to master my moves, I quickly learned I was a great fighter. It had a lot to do with my amazing coach and the fact that I fought to support myself and my daughter. She had been a huge motivator for me to become as good as possible.

I removed my mouth piece and grinned at the crowd. Throwing my fist in the air, I yelled, “Hell yeah!” to the crowd. The cheers grew even louder.

Artie handed me my towel and water bottle. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took a sip of water. We stepped out of the cage, and I high fived a few of the fans as Artie and I made our way back to my changing room. I needed to take a quick breather before I got changed.

“That was a good fight, kid. You KO’d the guy, and now you’re moving on. I’m proud of you, but…” he paused.

There was always a “but” with him. It was almost like he had to think of something negative whether I won or lost. He had to point out my weaknesses.

“Your form right before you knocked him out was weak. Your stance needs to be strong in case he comes back with a good hit. You don’t want to lose your balance. You need to keep your form tight. It’s only going to get harder from here on out. You have to keep that in mind,” he said.

I knew what he was talking about. “Thanks, Artie. I’ll remember that next time,” I said. He was right, after all. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down in the cage.

“And don’t forget to include more of your submissive wrestling moves. You can get them to tap out faster that way. You’re quick and good at it. Use it to your advantage. Keep your repertoire of moves in your mind at all times. They are your weapons.”

I nodded my head. I just wanted the lecture to end. He sure did know how to kill my good mood. I didn’t have much time to celebrate, ever. And it sucked. I wished I could have more time with the crowd to show them I loved to have a good time too and that I appreciated their support. I wanted more time to soak up the intoxicating energy that always came after a win. I wished Artie would save his lectures for the following practice. I wished he could let me have my moment.

“I can’t wait to tell Margie about the fight. She’s going to be so excited that I won,” I said.

“I bet her eyes will light up just like yours do right before you get in the cage,” Artie said with a smile. I agreed with him. My daughter, Margie, and I had the same eyes. She had her mother’s smile though.

It was still hard to think about Tammy. Even after four years, I still struggled to pay off the medical bills from when she died. And the guilt I carried around about my daughter not having her mother was insurmountable. More than anything, I hoped Margie wouldn’t take it on throughout her life. Her mom passed away while giving birth to her. They had tried everything to save Tammy, but they had to focus on Margie. They had to make sure they got her out safely. She was only four now and didn’t fully understand what happened. It was the best, most heartbreaking day of my entire life.

I wanted nothing more than to give Margie a great life. To be there for her and support her in everything she chose do. But it was hard. I was still dealing with the emotions of my wife’s passing and not to mention the pile of bills that threatened our way of living every single day. It was the whole reason I started fighting. Paying off those medical bills and giving Margie the life she deserved was my sole focus. I wanted my daughter to have the life I didn’t have as a kid. My parents weren’t poor, but we struggled. And that wasn’t the life I wanted for my daughter.

“You get home safe and rest up. I need you fresh in the gym on Monday,” Artie said while grabbing his stuff.

“Will do, sir,” I said.

“Don’t call me sir,” he said.

He always hated when I called him sir. I told him it was a sign of respect, and he argued that it just made him feel older than he already was. So, I started calling him sir for fun.

“See ya later, old man,” I said.

“Watch your mouth, kid, or I’ll ride you so hard in the gym that you will wish you never met me,” he threatened with a wave goodbye.

I changed quickly, hoping that Anna would still be around. I at least wanted to thank her for coming before I went home.