Page 99 of One Time Only (One Time Only 1)
I shake his hand, furrowing my brow. The tall, dark-haired dude looks familiar. I try to place him. “Don’t I know you?” I snap my fingers. “Wait. Weren’t you that guy who was all over that charity auction a few years ago in New York?”
Declan laughs. “You follow the player charity auctions in New York?”
“Yeah, Stone. Do you?” Jackson asks pointedly. “Or were you bidding on Declan? Wait. Don’t tell me. You lost out on the bidding?”
I roll my eyes. “Please. One, I didn’t bid. Two, if I did, I wouldn’t have lost. I remember you because my publicist showed your pics to me. Candi thought it was cool when that guy in the three-piece suit won you, and she was hoping you’d become a couple. Guess she likes ships too. Did anything ever come of that?”
Declan shakes his head. “We went on a date or two. That’s all. That’s about my speed.”
“That’s always been your speed, Declan,” Jackson says with a laugh.
I arch a brow at my hubs. “You two know each other?”
“We have some friends in common. When he was dating a TV star a couple years back, before I worked for you, I provided coverage at some of their LA events. Don’t worry, babe. Just like you didn’t bid on Declan, I didn’t date him.”
I pinch Jackson’s waist. His hard, firm waist. “Did you think I was about to be all jealous that you once dated this New York Comet?”
Declan laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “Don’t put me in the middle of this marital spat, bros.”
I clap Declan’s shoulder but look at Jackson, laughing. “No worries. We are all good. My man knows I only have eyes for him.”
“Good answer,” my husband says. He smacks a possessive kiss on my cheek, then turns his focus back to the ballplayer. “You’re in town for your series with the Devils? Does that start tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’m just scouting these guys before our first game,” he says, waving toward the field. His expression shifts, and he clears his throat. “Listen, I keep wanting to tell you—you two are my heroes.”
Jackson arches a brow. “We are?”
Declan gestures from Jackson to me and back. “Yeah, getting married. That’s awesome.”
“I thought you were into playing the field,” Jackson says.
Declan laughs. “I’m plenty happy being single, thank you very much. I just mean, I love all that you’ve done. Posting about your life together online. It’s awesome. Every time I see two dudes getting married or two women getting married, it does something to my heart.” He taps his sternum. “For so long, we couldn’t.”
I hold out a fist for knocking. “Times they are a-changing. But you’re not going to change your player stripes?”
The pro baller glances at the field, holds his gaze for several long seconds on the guys on the diamond, then swings it back to us. “Nah. I’d have to meet someone really special again to change my stripes. And I don’t see that happening.”
I key in on one word. “Again?”
Declan quickly shakes his head, like he’s covering up a faux pas. “I just meant…it probably won’t happen.”
“Hmm. Don’t be so sure about that. Happens to the best of us,” I say, briefly wondering if there’s someone on the field he’d want to meet again.
“Maybe,” Declan says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
When Nadia grabs him for a chat, I tug Jackson closer. “Wanna bet he falls hard when he least expects it?”
Jackson smiles. “I bet it happens any day now.”
Once the game starts, we turn our attention to the field. A few batters in, Cruz and his wife return with their girls, and Isabella makes a beeline for me.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about unicorns and horses,” she says.
“Hit me up. What’s on your mind?”
As we discuss manes and tails, I can’t stop the train of thought that started rolling on the beach the other day.
The idea that maybe, just maybe, there’s even more out there for my guy and me.When we get home, I pour a glass of whiskey, lean against the kitchen counter, and dive into the deep end. “Do you ever want to have a kid?”
Jackson lifts a brow. “Not the typical way, I assume?”
“I mean one of the other ways, obviously.”
He takes a beat, drawing a breath, giving weight to his answer. “I would love to.” His eyes are etched with vulnerability, but hope too. “Do you mean it?”
This should be hard to do, talking about kids, a family.
But it’s not at all. It’s remarkably easy. “I do. I kind of think we’d be awesome dads. Don’t you?”
He swallows roughly, like a knot of emotion is tightening his throat.
Jackson closes the rest of the distance between us, wraps his arms around my neck, and just nods with a soft, shuddery yes.Another year later . . .The plane touches down in Bogotá.
