Sweet Spot for Victoria (Men of Baseball Book 4) (12 page)

“I’m so fucking sorry. I was so wrong to get so angry. I was so wrong to leave you,” he confesses and my whole body relaxes.

I am still beyond hurt but I’m married. If I don’t forgive him for his instant, immediate reactions, how can I expect him to forgive mine? We both freaked out and we both handled it differently and neither of us did it the right way.

“I’m sorry, too,” I confess as tears roll down my cheeks and into his neck.

“Never again,
morenita
,” he murmurs. I nod unable to speak.

He doesn’t say another word as he turns the television off and then picks me up and carries me toward our room. I am nestled into his chest and open my eyes in time to see my mother watching us. She smiles and winks before closing her bedroom door.
My mama knows all
. I don’t know how I would have made it these past few days without her.

“Where were you?” I ask as he lays me down in our bed, pulling the comforter over my body.

“A hotel, alone, and drunk,” he confesses, shedding his own rumpled clothes and sliding into the bed next to me.

“Los,” I whisper. He silences me by placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

“Sleep,” he orders, and it is as if my body understands what he is saying. My mind finally shuts down and I fall into a deep slumber.

I watch as her body finally relaxes and sleep takes over. I feel like an even bigger dickhead. She’s fuckin’ exhausted and it’s all my fault. I should have been home last night. No, I should have never left that Inn. After Jackson talked to me, I was going to come home first thing Monday morning, but I didn’t –
couldn’t
. I was still angry. I needed to really re-evaluate my anger and
why
I was so goddamned pissed off at Victoria.

I ended up calling my dad. The man is a genius and he’s been married to my mom for over thirty years. I don’t ever remember them arguing growing up, so he must be doing something right.

He told me I was being a dumbass.

I started drinking again after that conversation, well into Monday evening. I only sobered up enough to drive home tonight. I
am
a dumbass, though. My dad wasn’t wrong. I let Victoria down and everybody else in my life, too. Before driving home, I decided to sit down and really think about my situation.

Do I love Victoria enough to forgive her for making that appointment?
Undoubtedly. She owns my balls anyway, why do I give such a fuck what she wants to do with them?

Can I let it all go?
I can and I choose to.

Can I make my own vasectomy appointment and go through it, for her and for myself?
I think I can. I have to. Not only for her but for
us
.

I e-mailed my doctor and made the appointment.

I need my wife more than I need air to breathe.

I can let it all go because, in the long run, it’s what needs to be done and it will make my beautiful bride happy. Finally, I close my own eyes and I rest. I sleep. I am where I belong, next to the love of my life.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of cartoons in the living room and my mother-in-law banging pots and pans around, probably making breakfast.

I leave Victoria alone to sleep. She needs her rest. Before I get up, I slide my palm to cup her belly. Its firm and beginning to round with my babies’ growth. She’s bringing two lives into this world, carrying them and giving them life —
for me
.

I need to take better care of my woman. I need to tell her how much I appreciate her. I do appreciate her, more than anything in this world.

My mother-in-law is making eggs, bacon and pancakes in the kitchen when I walk in. I grab a coffee and lean my hip against the counter. The kid’s haven’t noticed I’m awake yet,
Mickey Mouse Clubhouse
has their undivided attention. I need to speak with my mother-in-law, anyway.

“Mother-in-law,” I murmur and her eyes lock with mine.

They are so much like Victoria’s, but she holds wisdom in hers that is frightening.

“You done being immature?” she asks bluntly.

“I am,” I admit.

“You ever do this to my
hija
again, I take her and my grandbabies with me back to California, where her family is,” she states, flipping pancakes.

“Her family is here,” I counter. She shakes her head at me, thrusting the spatula at my chest.

“Family doesn’t walk out the way you did. Family doesn’t abandon. You leave her like that again, I call her
papa
and we bring her back. Good luck ever seeing her again if Armando is in charge,” she says.

The color drains from my face.

Armando is my father-in-law. He’s also a scary motherfucker. I’ve seen the guy in action when it comes to protecting his family.
No, thank you
.

“I promise, never again,” I say, and I mean it. I’ll never leave my family again.

“Okay,” she says as she turns to finish making breakfast.

I make my way out of the kitchen and into the living room to see my babies. Rocio is sitting on the couch, her long dark hair crazy and messy. Junior is on the floor, playing with his cars. I sigh.

I left this.

How could I be so angry that I could walk out on these two?
I am a complete shit.
Never fucking again. No matter what.

“Daddy,” Rocio whispers when I sit down next to her. I exhale when she curls her tiny body into my side, lying her head on my stomach.

“I missed you, Rocio,” I murmur, running my fingers through her messy, soft, hair.

“I missed you too, daddy, so much. Mama was sad when you were gone,” she says.

I pinch my eyes closed. I try to keep the tears out of my eyes but they come anyway.

“I missed her, too,” I whisper, trying not to let her know I’m a crying pussy.

“Time to eat,” my mother-in-law calls out. She then thrusts a plate at me from the other side of the sofa. “Go take this to Vic, she needs to eat.”

I take the plate and quickly go into the bedroom in search of my wife. My eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and I grin when I see she hasn’t moved a muscle. I sit down next to her and gently stroke her bare arm. She frowns and then mumbles some curse words in Spanish, making me chuckle. I watch as her pretty amber eyes flutter open. She looks confused for a second and then surprised.

“Los?” she asks. I pick up the food that I sat down on her nightstand.

“Your mom made you breakfast in bed,” I say with a shrug.

“Pancakes, with powdered sugar?” she asks beginning to sit up. I chuckle, my wife and her fuckin’ sugar.

“Yeah, baby, powdered sugar,” I murmur, handing her the plate.

I watch with rapt attention as she starts to devour her breakfast. She’s eating the food like it’s going to be her last meal here on earth.

“You that hungry?” I ask.

“Starving. These babies, Los, I’m starving all of the time. I’m going to be three hundred pounds by the time I deliver,” she whines around a mouthful of sugar and pancake.

“You’ll be the most gorgeous three hundred pound mama on earth, Vic,” I say. She narrows her eyes and lets out a puff of air.

“Los,” she warns. I cut her off and brush my lips against her sweet ones.

“
Te adoro, hermosa
,” I whisper against her lips.

“I adore you, too,” she whimpers back as tears fill her eyes.

“Do you think your mama would hang with the kids today?”

“Probably, she’s leaving tomorrow afternoon,” she shrugs and I wrap my hand around the side of her soft neck.

“Let’s do something, just you and me?”

“Okay.” She smiles through her watery eyes.

I know, in this moment, that all will be okay. I still have making up to do for my shit move and we aren’t completely good, but our relationship is going to survive. We are going to be all right.

I have never loved her more than I do right in this moment. Every single day, the woman brings a new joy into my life, a new reason to smile, and now she is bringing me two more. Time to freak out is over, it is now time to celebrate the new lives coming into our family.

I press my palm again her belly, my eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes go wide and she smiles as she places her hand over mine. My
Chile Pepper
of a woman.

“So fucking perfect,
hermosa
,” I murmur unable to take my eyes away from hers and my hand away from her firm belly.

“Are we going to be okay, Los?” she asks. The vulnerability in her eyes is like a punch to my gut.

“We never weren’t okay, Vic. I freaked out and I acted like a fucking idiot. Never again, never leaving you again. I love you too much to live this life without you right by my side.”

“I love you,” she cries as tears continually fall from her eyes. I lean in and brush my lips against hers.

“I love you, too,” I murmur, kissing her once more.

I have no clue what Carlos has planned for us, but I wish it were to stay in bed all day, because nothing fits me. It’s as if my stomach doubled in size overnight and now I have nothing to wear. I stand in my closet, looking around at all my fabulous, expensive, clothes, and I almost cry.

“Babe, you ready?” he asks from the doorway.

I turn around, my eyes watery. He notices and immediately takes the few steps toward me before he wraps his arms around me.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, pressing his lips to my hair.

“Nothing fits,” I mumble against his chest. He chuckles and squeezes me once before stepping back and looking at me.

“Then we’ll go shopping,” he suggests. I gape at him.

Carlos hates shopping. He doesn’t hate it like some men who grumble but go anyway, finding a television to stare at. No, he despises it. It’s the only time he’ll give me money and tell me to handle it all without asking questions about the bill later. He must really be trying to kiss my ass if he’s willing to take me shopping.

“Los, you hate shopping and you have plans for us,” I explain, as if he doesn't already know what he has planned.

“Get your pretty ass in some of those legging things you like and let’s hit some maternity stores.” He grins and it takes my breath away. Carlos has the best smile on earth, but when he grins, he melts my panties.

I dress quickly in a pair of leggings and an oversize t-shirt before slipping into a pair of boots. I grab my heavy coat, because the weather is still cold as a witch’s tit outside. I run past my babies and give them hugs and kisses before I wrap my arms around my mama.

“You have a good day with your husband,
hija.
Enjoy each other,” she murmurs, kissing my cheek.

“Yes, mama,” I say with a big grin on my face.

My mama shakes her head as I run to Carlos and take his outstretched hand. I feel giddy, like a kid again. I know Carlos is being on his best behavior, but I find that I am immensely enjoying the little affections he’s showing. This is more of the way we were when we were young. Maybe we’ve worked ourselves into a rut and needed a huge blow up to get back to where we used to be?

“You two look just like you did when you were teenagers, rushing off to assuredly give me heart palpitations,” she calls out.

Carlos and I burst out laughing as we leave the apartment and slide inside of the elevator car.

“If your mama really knew what we were up to, she’d have had a full blown heart attack, not palpitations,” Carlos murmurs, pulling me into his side.

“My papa would have been waiting on the front porch with a gun if he knew,” I deadpan.

Carlos groans before he places a kiss on the top of my head.

“He threatened me more than once,
hermosa
. Told me if I messed with his good little catholic girl, I’d wish I were dead.”

I burst out laughing. First off, I was only a good little catholic girl until I met Carlos, and it wasn’t because he corrupted
me
. I had to have him; I needed him like I needed air and I pressured him – not the other way around. He kept me decently pure until the wedding day, but it wasn’t for lack of me trying.

Secondly, my papa talks a big talk, but he loves me and he wants me to be happy. He has always known that Carlos is my happiness, so he’s always liked the guy.

“I love you,” I murmur before lifting my eyes to look into his.