Rushing Amy: A Love and Football Novel (37 page)

The cheerleaders formed two lines on each side of the tunnel the players would run out of in seconds; the crowd got to its feet. It was time to welcome the team. Matt still had her hands in both of his, and pulled her to her feet along with him. She couldn’t even clap. She didn’t yell. She watched as Brandon ran out of the tunnel to ground-shaking cheering. It was his last season as a Shark. Emily was probably in the team’s suite. She’d taken a red-eye to get here from London.

The crowd noise was almost at the level of pain now. She was shaking. She couldn’t control it anymore. Matt slid his arms around her, and he pulled her close.

“You’re freezing, sweetheart. Let’s see if we can warm you up a bit.”

“I’m not cold,” she choked out. “I did everything wrong. I—I miss you so much. I don’t want to live without you.”

Even with a crowd of 67,000 screaming their guts out over the kickoff, he could hear her.

“And now I’ve lost you, and I’m never going to get over it. You’re dating Paula, and I should have told you how I felt about you a long time ago.”

He laid his fingertips over her lips. She felt him let out a sigh. A smile twitched over his mouth.

“That’s funny. She’s Clint’s daughter, and I took her to that event as a favor to her dad. She spent most of the night dancing with someone else.” He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “And you’re wrong about something else. I love you, Amy Hamilton. I’m always going to love you. I never stopped.” He took a shaky breath. “You are the love of my life.”

Amy’s mouth fell open. Matt pulled her closer. The kick returner was streaking down the side of the field toward the end zone. There was bedlam all around them, but they might as well have been alone. She couldn’t focus on anyone or anything beyond Matt’s eyes. Nothing registered but what he was saying to her.

“You didn’t call me,” she insisted. “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me—”

He cut her off. “I wanted to wait till I could see you to say all of this.” He stared into her eyes. “I was an idiot. Will it help if I tell you every morning for the rest of my life how stupid and hardheaded I was over the loan and a few other things? I hurt you. I was wrong. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I will not meddle in your business, unless you ask me to. I will never lie to you again.”

She stopped shaking and stood there in shock. The great Matt Stephens, king of the alpha males, was apologizing. Again. Was Hell freezing over? Amy felt sudden and inappropriate laughter bubbling up in her throat. Suddenly she could breathe again. Her world burst into magnificent color.

“I didn’t quite hear that. Could you say it again?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned a little, and then she saw the side of his mouth curve up. “I think you heard me.”

“Oh, I don’t think I did. What was that you said?”

“Amy, you heard me.”

“I was wrong? I’m sorry?” She gave him her most innocent smile. “I’ll have to hear it a lot more than once a day.”

“I see how you are. You get the poor sucker to confess his undying love, and then you bust his chops.”

“Not at all. I’m just looking for a little additional groveling.”

Matt laughed. Of course, nobody was seated yet; there would be another kickoff. That’s what happens when the home team scores on the first possession. He hadn’t let go of her, either. It wasn’t too bad to watch a football game wrapped up in Matt’s arms.

“I love you, too,” she said into his ear. “So, so much.”

Matt pointed overhead.

“Hey, Fifi, look at that.”

The team was still lining up for their kickoff, but the crowd was cheering again. She glanced up. A small plane flew high over the stadium, towing a banner that read:
Fifi. Marry me. Matt.

Amy swallowed hard. Her heart leapt. The blood bubbled through her veins. She stared at the small plane, which executed a wide arc over Niehaus Field and flew over Sharks Stadium once more.

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack, Hamilton. Are you in?” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Marry me. Have my babies. Be my love, and I’ll be yours.”

“Everyone else proposes on the scoreboard.”

“That’s for losers. I had to get a stadium flyover exemption from the FAA for this.”

He pulled a ring box out of the breast pocket of his jacket. People around them were pointing toward the plane, asking each other, “Who’s Fifi?” and clapping. The heart Amy was afraid was broken beyond all repair pounded in her chest.

She could tell him she wasn’t going to consider his proposal till he got down on one knee. When she opened her mouth to say so, though, something funny happened.

All she said was, “Yes.”

Epilogue

Two years later

I
T WAS FOUR
am and Amy couldn’t sleep. She had tossed and turned for hours. Matt had slept like a baby, as usual. He looked like a dark, dangerous, and sexy pirate against the snow-white bedding with his wavy hair, the stubble on his square jaw, his strong brow, and the thick, long eyelashes that lay like fans against his tan skin. She could wake him up. There could be a little plundering going on in their bed, as long as they locked the door and were very, very quiet.

Actually, there’d been some plundering before, and there would be again. Just not right now. Unless Amy missed her guess, she was in labor. The contractions were still ten minutes apart. They had some time. She was alternately thrilled and scared out of her mind. She hoped this was normal.

She tiptoed through the bedroom and down the hall to Samantha’s room.

Samantha had kicked off all her blankets sometime during the night. She sprawled on her belly, arms flung over her head. The pink sapphire and diamond band she wore on the middle finger of her left hand sparkled in the faint light peeking through the blinds. Amy and Matt gave her the ring on their wedding day.

“Hey, Sam.” Amy sat down next to her and shook her shoulder. “Wake up.”

“It’s not time for school yet, is it? Too early!”

“It’s time to go to the hospital. I need your help.”

Samantha shoved a mass of hair out of her eyes and flipped over onto her back. “It’s time? It’s
time
? Oh, God. Where’s my dad?”

“He’s still asleep.”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? How—Oh, we have to go!” Samantha jumped out of bed, grabbed Amy’s hand and tried to tug her to her feet. “Come on!”

Amy didn’t move, and she pulled once more.

“Just a second,” Amy gasped.

Her stepdaughter handled it like a champ. “Breathe, Amy. Breathe.”

“God, it hurts.”

“Let’s go get Ma—my dad.”

There were so many things Amy wanted to say to her right then, but they would have to wait.

Thirty minutes later, a nervous Matt pulled up in front of the hospital entrance.

“Don’t move, sweetheart. Let me help.” He jumped out of the driver’s seat, hurried around the front of the Mercedes, and opened the passenger door. “Easy,” he cautioned as he reached into the car to help her out of the seat.

“I’m fine, Sparky. I can do this.”

“No. You need me,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her. “Just take it slow. We’ll get there.”

A few minutes later Amy was in a wheelchair, being taken to the maternity floor. Matt was hurrying along beside her, holding her hand with one of his and making phone calls with the other. He called Emily and held the phone up to Amy’s ear.

“How far apart are they?” Emily asked.

“Five minutes or so.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can. Brandon will stay with the babies.”

“Hurry,” was all Amy could say. She’d been in the room when Emily gave birth to twin boys last year; now it was her turn.

Matt called her mom. He called his mom. Samantha had decided she wanted to see the baby born. After a long talk with the doctor, she’d stay till the transition, and then she’d be in the waiting room with Laura and Pauline. Pauline was probably live Tweeting the proceedings already.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, God, it hurts.”

“Contraction,” the nurse said. “Amy, let’s get you up on this bed and get the monitors on you.”

Matt shoved the phone into his pants pocket. “I’ve got you.” He swept Amy up in his arms and set her down on the hospital bed. “Take it easy, Fifi. We’ll get through this,” he reassured.

“Oh, God,” she gasped again. She gripped Matt’s hand as hard as she could.

“Man, that’s fast,” the nurse said. “This baby wants out.” She stripped off Amy’s pants, put her in a hospital gown, put warm stockings on her legs, and put her feet in the stirrups.

“Can I have drugs?”

“I think this baby will be here before they even take effect,” the nurse said. “You know Lamaze breathing, right?”

Amy nodded frantically.

“Okay. Let’s breathe. Just relax. You’re at nine and a half centimeters; the contractions are on top of each other, and the doctor’s on his way.”

“Can I push?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. Let me find out where the doctor is.” The nurse hit the call button with her elbow and told someone on the other end to page Amy’s doctor.

Matt grabbed Amy’s other hand. “How are you doing?”

“I’m—Oh, my GOD, it hurts. It hurts!”

He looked up at the monitor, and kissed the hand that clutched his. “The contraction is over. It’s over. Take a breath.”

“They didn’t tell me it was going to hurt this much!”

Matt seemed to remember the Lamaze breathing. Well, good for him. Amy had forgotten it somehow. She panted. She tried. It still freaking hurt, and here was another contraction.

“Just squeeze my hand,” Matt said. “That’s it.” Amy let out a scream. Something seemed to be taking over, and she wasn’t in control. “Almost over. There.” The nurse came back into the room. She looked worried, at least to Amy.

“What’s wrong?” Amy cried out.

“Everything’s fine,” the nurse reassured her. She positioned herself at the foot of the bed. “The doctor’s doing another delivery, but he’ll be here.”

“I have to push!”

“I know, darlin’. I know. Let’s try to relax,” the nurse said.

Another nurse ushered a white-faced Samantha out of the room. Amy heard her wail, “But I want to stay!” all the way down the hallway.

“She’ll be fine,” Matt assured Amy. “Breathe.”

Amy took another lungful of air, only to have a contraction hit in the middle of it. She was going to break Matt’s hand if this kept up. He was brushing the hair off her face, telling her how much he loved her, how proud he was of her, how he couldn’t wait to meet the newest member of their family. Mostly, Amy wished he had access to an epidural needle, or someone that did. The nurse wasn’t going to help.

“You can’t wait? YOU can’t wait? Which one of us is in pain right now? I want this baby
out
!”

“Of course you do,” he soothed. Amy knew he was just trying to help, but right now she’d appreciate a little righteous anger on her behalf. She needed painkillers, dammit.

Another contraction came, even worse than the last one. The nurse had been on the phone, she’d pushed the call button to page the doctor, she’d done everything she could humanly do, and there was nothing left for Amy than to grit her teeth and push.

“Matt Stephens,” she screeched in the middle of a particularly bad contraction, “You are never,
ever
touching me again!
Never!
I don’t care how cute you are, or how good you smell, or that thing you do with your tongue!”

“They all say this,” the nurse reassured him.

“Even the tongue part?” Matt moved away from Amy, and she grabbed him. He looked a little startled.

“Don’t leave! Don’t leave! I love you! Don’t leave!”

“You probably say that to all your husbands.”

He sat down in the chair next to her again, though. Amy actually growled at him, which he found even funnier.

The nurse glanced between them. “Where is that doctor?”

“Okay,” Amy gasped. “Enough. I am not waiting. You,” and she pointed to the nurse. “You and Matt are delivering the baby.”

“The doctor’s on his way. I promise.”

“You’ll be delivering the baby, because I’m going to push!”

Before the nurse had time to tell her again the doctor was on his way, Amy pushed as hard as she could. She shrieked like never before—or since.

“The baby’s crowning!” The nurse grabbed her other hand. “Take a breath, and push! Push hard, Amy!”

Amy gasped for breath. Matt was still talking into her ear. “I love you,” he said. “Let’s see our baby.”

She pushed so hard she saw stars. She grunted, she groaned, she screamed. She took the deepest breath she could and pushed one more time.

Amy felt the baby sliding out of her.

“That’s it!” Matt’s voice was exultant. “Baby’s head is out. Just one more push, Fifi!”

Amy pushed again, and the sweetest sound she’d ever heard split the air: a baby’s cry.

Matt got to his feet, craned his neck a bit, and wrapped his arms around Amy. “It’s a boy! It’s a boy. He’s perfect.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “You did it, Fifi. We have a son.”

The nurse laid their newborn on Amy’s stomach after she wiped him off a little, and handed the scissors to Matt. “Would you like to cut the cord?”

Matt was momentarily speechless. He reached out to take his son’s tiny, goo-covered hand, but recovered enough to nod at the nurse. He made the snip.

“He has your hair,” Amy said.

“He’s got your nose.” Matt traced it with a gentle fingertip. Their son opened his eyes. They were as blue as his father’s. He had a dimple in his chin. Oh, he’d be a heartbreaker. He was long and lean, and Matt murmured, “I was like this when I was born, too.”

“So, he’s going to be a tight end?”

“He can be whatever he’d like to be,” Matt assured her. “I love you. I love you so much.” He wrapped his arms around Amy, and they drank in the sight of their healthy baby boy.

“I love you, too.” Amy pressed her lips into the side of his neck. “I’m sorry about all the yelling and the—”

“You’re going to let me touch you again at some point,” Matt murmured into her ear.

“Don’t push your luck, Stephens.”