And I don’t. I’m not in the market for a girlfriend. At the moment, I’m trying to make it through the week without getting attached to a baby who isn’t mine to keep.
I step back, putting distance between us. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what comes next for me, but it’s not a relationship.” I have to take care of Flip first. I have to take my shot at going pro. I have to get through college. And I absolutely have to make it happen.
She nods, looking wounded—eyelids heavy, corners of her sweet mouth turned down. “I get it.”
“You want me to call Nina?”
“No. I’m happy to watch Fia.” She reaches out with her free arm and squeezes my biceps, sincerity gleaming in her soft brown eyes. “I’m here for you, Dean. No matter what. Whatever you need.”
She must be a saint to put up with me and not run for the door. “Thank you.”
“Sure.” She nods solemnly and disappears to the living room with Fia.
By the time I leave for practice, the porta-crib is all set. I go to tell Lara, but she’s asleep on the couch with Fia on her chest.
I try not to let the image get to me, but there’s something about the loving picture that reminds me of my childhood, of always wanting a mother. To me, they were fictional characters, only found in sitcoms on the old crappy TV we had.
Listen to yourself. You’re actually standing here getting the warm gooeys, staring at Lara and Fia. What’s next? Shopping for yoga pants?
I leave for practice emotionally tapped out. I know tonight my body will be in the game, but my head will be here at home with these two.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LARA
When I wake, Dean is gone and Fia is still snoozing on my chest. Looks like she had a long day of shopping. I set her down in the porta-crib Dean put together next to his bed.
A tiny teddy bear with a pink bow is propped up in the corner. I remove it, because better safe than sorry, but I can’t help smiling.
This man perplexes me. In the best kind of way.
I met him back in June, when he started as an intern at the Grape Ranch. Of course, I tripped over my drooling tongue the minute he walked through the door. The guy has stunning hazel eyes and is built like a giant oak. Meaning, you could climb him for fun, but swinging from his branches might be awesome, too.
But what really made me take notice was his energy and confidence, of the way he filled the room when he entered. The Dean-cherry on the top was that he didn’t seem to notice how women turned into puddles of hot syrup in his presence. It perplexed me—the effect he had.
That was the beginning of the end for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He became a puzzle I wanted to solve. What was it about Dean Norland that made my insides turn into a fluttery mess every time I got near the guy? I’m not talking butterflies. I’m talking helicopters flying around in my stomach.
After days, weeks, and months of Dean-think, I came to one conclusion: When it comes to looks and his body, he’s a perfect ten. But that’s not the secret sauce. Dean’s off-the-chart sexiness comes from the fact that he’s unapologetically himself.
Yet, at the very same time, when you talk to him, you get the impression he’s wearing armor. And lives in a fortress. Surrounded by a moat. Filled with alligators.
Ask him where he’s from, he deflects with, “Nowhere worth mentioning.”
Ask him what he plans to do after football, he says, “Die of boredom.”
Ask him if he’d like to hang out, grab a bite, he says, “Thanks, but I’m on a strict diet.”
Don’t get me wrong, Dean is absolutely kind and polite. His smile is a panty dropper. But he keeps everyone at arm’s length, especially anyone who’s into him. Me, for example.
That’s why when I learned of the baby situation, I was thrown off. Dean? Taking care of a baby? He’s the type of guy who buries his emotions and enjoys lifting heavy stuff—which we ladies at the Ranch really appreciate.
He’s also smart—knows a lot about wine and catches on quickly to pretty much everything Hector asks him to do.
Dean is driven, responsible, and respectful of women, too.
But playing the role of daddy? I couldn’t believe it.
Then I caught a glimpse of him beaming at Fia…
Nothing has ever made my heart go awww…like that. The joyful twinkle in his eyes, like he was melting into his own ooey gooey puddle of baby adoration, made me melt right along with him.
I’ve been getting to know Dean for months, and my serious case of like is now a full-blown case of need, desire, and admiration. Seeing him with Fia was the nail in the want-him-now coffin. My stomach actually hurts from the ache.