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He smiles. “Thanks. My wife runs that ship, and she’s pretty damn incredible. To be honest, I don’t know the first thing about kids, but I’m learning.”
I chuckle. “As you know, my brother just had his first. She was the first baby I’ve ever held.”
“That was me with my son.”
“Not your daughter?” I ask, realizing the words might be insensitive a bit too late considering I don’t know his situation.
He shakes his head. “No. I just met her a little over a year ago. Long story, but the moment I met her, she owned me. Kids will do that to you.” He chuckles a bit, and it’s weird how I never even really thought twice about kids, and now this is yet another newish dad convincing me that having kids is this whole magical thing.
I’m sure it’s magical when they’re new. Is it still magical when they develop attitudes and sassiness and opinions? Doubtful, but what the fuck do I know?
Still…I’m starting to think about it more. That life. I’m starting to wonder if it’s something I want. I’ve never felt that urge before, but I’ve also never been in love before. Now that I’m with somebody who I’ve fallen for, I can’t help but wonder if kids are coming in the semi-near future, too.
“How was minicamp for you?” he asks, changing the subject to something I’m more comfortable with.
“It was good,” I say. “Nice to get to know more of the defensive guys.” I pull the box of crackers out of the basket and open them, leaving them on the counter for us each to pick at.
Travis takes one after I do. “I’ve gotten tight with Evan Wilkinson on the D-line. His daughter and Harper are the same age.”
“Harper? That’s your daughter?”
He nods. “And my boy is Henry. We had a hell of a time deciding on a name for him, but I call my wife by her maiden name, Hartley, and with Harper…we liked another H name. It felt right.”
“It’s great,” I say, not really sure how we got back on the topic of kids. Do all parents do this?
We switch gears back to football for a bit, and then the movers interrupt us to let us know they’re all done. They take the boxes with them, and this is really first-class service. I don’t have to do anything but sit back with my sausage and gin and enjoy the view. And, you know…search for all the shit they organized into cabinets for me.
“I should head back home, but I’m glad to have a neighbor I can carpool with to practice,” Travis says, and I laugh.
It feels good to make a friend on the team even if we’re on opposite sides of the ball, and as I recall, Ava and Travis’s wife seemed to hit it off at the Gridiron.
“Let’s make dinner plans soon,” I suggest. We exchange numbers, and he walks down to the house on the other side of the one that sits between us.
I’ve just settled onto the couch that definitely isn’t big enough for this room when I get a text from Ava.
Cookie: Just leaving the bakery.
I decide to call her rather than text back in case she’s driving.
“Hey,” she answers.
“Hey. How was work?”
“Screw work, how’s the new house?”
I chuckle. “It’s incredible. Come see it.”
“You’re there now?” she asks.
“Yeah. And I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“Well, that sounds scary. Text me the address, and I’ll be there soon.”
I send her the details, and fifteen minutes later, I hear the doorbell.
When I open it, she’s standing in front of me looking nothing less than gorgeous. She smells like cookies, and she’s holding a box that says Cravings on it.
I narrow my eyes as I grab her arm lightly and pull her into my chest. “What’s in the box?”
