The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1) (10 page)

“This is one of the top models,” he said, clearing his throat. “I did some research.”

He seemed almost sheepish about it. “Research, huh?” she prodded.

“Well…yeah,” he said, ducking his head. “Baby shopping isn’t only about buying for looks and fit—like clothes. We need to keep things like safety in mind.”

Every time she thought she had him figured out, he managed to surprise her. “You’re going to be a great father, Jordan. You’re already being responsible.”

“You sound surprised,” he said, picking up the teddy bear in the crib. “I can change, Grace. This baby… It’s changing everything.”

And the baby hadn’t even been born yet. How much more would Jordan change? Moreover, how was she supposed to handle him growing into the family man she’d always hoped him to be? She didn’t think he would revert back to his old ways of putting football above family, like he had with her, but she still feared it.

“I like this crib,” she said, running her hand over the railing. “It has safe corner posts and the slats are no more than two and three-quarter inches apart, if my eye is right. Plus, it has nice lines and an adjustable mattress height.”

His eyebrow rose as he held the bear against his massive chest.

“You’re not the only one who’s been doing research,” she told him.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, Grace,” he said. “But this time, I’m not going to let you down.”

It was like he’d read her mind. She looked back at him sharply, not knowing what to say.

Chapter 7

Jordan saw the shocked look on her face and knew his comment had struck home. How many times would he have to show her he was stepping up? For a moment there, he’d thought she was remembering how it used to be with them. He’d found himself growing aroused by the mere touch of his hand to her belly. He felt a little guilty about desiring her as he felt their baby move for the first time, but he couldn’t seem to compartmentalize his emotions.

She looked so achingly beautiful right now, and though he had to battle with himself constantly, it was hard to ignore the changes in her body. Her curves were becoming lusher…and her breasts. He’d always thought they were spectacular, but they were bigger than ever. And he wanted to touch them. He wanted to touch
her.
Not just to feel their baby move—which was still blowing his mind—but to connect with her on that deep level he’d always felt with her.
 

If he had to settle for just one thing, it would be to see her smile at him again. She did it so rarely now. Her once easy smiles had become less and less frequent in the last months of their relationship, and it had killed him to believe he was the cause.

“I didn’t expect you to let me down, Jordan,” she said softly.

He gazed at her steadily, knowing she wasn’t telling the full truth. “You didn’t expect me to step up. That’s different. I might have let you down in the past, but I promise you that I won’t let the baby down.”

Her beautiful eyes grew troubled.
“Jordan.”

“Grace, I won’t let you down going forward either. I promise.”

She started to have a baby moment, and he clenched his hands by his side. When she got weepy like this, he had to fight a million battles inside himself to keep from reaching for her.
 

But then she stepped forward and put her arms around him, shocking the hell out of him. He hadn’t held her like this since the night of the breakup, and his heart swelled in his chest. God, he loved her. Still. So much.

He cautiously slid his hands around her back, and when he felt her nestle her head against his chest, he tucked her close. Except it wasn’t as close as they used to get. Not with the baby cushioned between them.

The changes in her body filled his awareness. Her stomach was a lot harder than he’d expected it to be…but her breasts were still soft and the new size of them pretty much blew his mind.

His hand rose to cup the back of her neck, bared by her current hairstyle. She shivered and lifted her head, and in those luminous green eyes he’d always loved, he saw the desire there—and the love she tried so hard to hide from him.

“Why aren’t we together?” he asked in a whisper. “It’s not over between us, and we’ve been circling around it for months. Grace, I still love you, and I want us to be a family. Feeling the baby move just now…I’ll do anything to make that happen. Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll do it. Anything.”

She pressed her head back to his chest, but she didn’t leave his arms. Her muscles tensed up like she was fighting sobs, and he rubbed her back.

“Maybe we should talk about it,” she said when she looked up at him. “I…still love you too, but I keep thinking—”

“Don’t think,” he said, desperate to reach her. “That’s what got us into trouble. Love should be enough. We should agree it’s going to be enough. That the other stuff doesn’t matter.”

She looked away. “The other stuff makes it hard. And Charles is watching us discreetly from the high chair section.”

“Dammit!” he said with heat as Grace moved away from him.

“
Jordan.
”

“Sorry,” he said, but seriously, he was about ready to march off and tell Charles to take a hike. He’d seen the man checking on them from a distance.

She put space between them, walking through the rows of cribs, and he gave her the time. They could talk about the future after they left. He would ask her to come over or offer to follow her home. Then they could find a way to move forward—together.

When Grace rejoined him a few moments later, he felt a million times lighter, and the smile she gave him was somehow both wary and warm. Yeah, she was thinking about it.

They agreed on a crib, and Jordan suggested he take photos of their final selections so they wouldn’t have to find Charles every time they came to a decision. He wasn’t so sure he could maintain his civility with the guy. Grace’s relieved sigh made him laugh as they continued on to the next aisle.

Other than the two car seats—one for her car and one for his—they selected a single high chair, a stroller, and a bassinet. Jordan let Grace choose her favorite lamp, joking that he didn’t have enough parental experience to know whether a lamp with a giraffe or a lion was better for childhood development. And he might have punctuated the comment with a flirtatious wink that made her smile.

Their final selection was a white baby dresser with star-shaped hardware. Grace was smiling non-stop by the time they made their way to the front, and Jordan’s whole chest was filled with warmth. Sharing this experience had shifted things between them—more than he could have hoped for.

The store manager tried to chat Jordan up about next season while ringing up their purchases, but he kept his answers curt. Jordan pulled out his credit card at the end and gave Grace a pointed look. He could just imagine the media getting hold of that gem.
Jordan Dean splitting baby costs with his baby mama?
It was a headline they didn’t need.

She stared back at him mulishly, and he leaned in so only she could hear and said, “Later.” And he couldn’t keep the heat out of his tone because he wasn’t only talking about settling up after they left. Her blush told him she wasn’t either.

After saying goodbye to Charles, they headed to the front door of the store. Jordan caught sight of a reporter standing next to a familiar white van in the parking lot. He swore silently. Farley Cooper was out there, which meant other tabloid journalists were undoubtedly with him. Either they had tailed Jordan without making it obvious or they’d received a tip from someone in the store. If it was Charles, the man was going to get a piece of his mind. Jordan put a hand to Grace’s back.

“What?” she asked, coming to an immediate stop.

“I don’t know how he found out I was here, but Farley is lurking by that white van.”

“No!” She immediately tensed up. “Farley is the worst.”
 

“I’m so sorry, Grace. There may be more of them out there.”
 

He rubbed the lower part of her spine when she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“We can do this two ways, Grace. If I leave alone, there’s a chance Farley and any others will follow me. But I can’t be sure one of them won’t stay around to photograph you. In that case, you’d have to face them alone. I don’t like that idea, by the way.”

He could feel her closing up, reverting to the unhappy woman she’d been months before—and it made him want to tear something apart in frustration.

“We should go out together,” she said, her voice cracking.

“You know I’ll have your back, right?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “I hate that I’m already afraid of them taking pictures of our baby—even in my belly. This is never going to go away, is it? Even though you and I aren’t together, this baby will always be the son or daughter of the Super Bowl winner Jordan Dean.”

All the ground they’d gained seemed to have vanished right before his eyes. His hand fell away from her back. “I don’t want our kid to be harassed any more than you do, Grace. I’ll do my best to keep him or her out of the media. I can’t promise more than that.” He wished he could. He wished he could rip every camera away from every reporter. If he had his way, he’d make a bonfire of them.

She was silent for long enough to make him sweat. “I know you can’t promise more than that. All right, let’s go. I might hate this, but I won’t cower.”

Before he could say anything, she pushed open the door and strode into the street. He jogged to catch up with her.

Farley rushed forward, already snapping pictures, and a couple more reporters popped out of their vans like gophers, cameras at the ready. His stomach sunk when he caught sight of the man with the professional grade video camera. This was going to be on the news, not just in the newspapers.

“How does it feel to be shopping for the new baby, Jordan?” Farley called out, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight.

The son of a bitch always wrote a little puff article to accompany his photos. Every single one of them squeezed the First Amendment for all it was worth. “Wonderful.”

Grace was walking swiftly like she’d done before, heading to her car.

“Grace! Can we have a picture of you and the baby bump with Jordan? Every Atlanta Rebels fan wants to see Jordan’s baby mama and her cute little bump.”

Jordan gritted his teeth and kept his hand on Grace’s back. “Not today, guys.”

The reporters swarmed around them, flashing more pictures. Jordan and Grace kept moving, even though they had to slow their pace. He noted Grace already had her keys in her hand, ready to jump into her car.

“Everyone knows you put out a statement saying you’re the father,” Farley said, crowding way too close for comfort, so close, Jordan could see the pattern of broken veins across his bulbous nose. “But did you have a paternity test, Jordan? It’s a little weird to learn you’re going to be a daddy after you break up with someone.”

Jordan staggered to a halt, and Grace stopped beside him. This time she put her hand on his arm, warning him.

“The baby is mine,” he said in all but a growl.

“What’s it like not being together with your baby mama?” Farley said, and the reporters surrounding them were all grinning now. “You sound a little touchy, Jordan.”

Farley knew how to rile him up to make better pictures. “Stand aside, guys, so I can escort Grace to her car.”

Grace started forward again when Jordan increased the pressure on her back. The reporters were forced to walk backwards as they advanced.
 

They were thirty yards away from her car when Farley shouted, “Come on, Grace! You might be too dull for Dean, but you’ve never been a bitch. Show us that baby bump Atlanta’s QB gave to you.”

Jordan was in the man’s face immediately. “Don’t you dare talk to her that way! Now back up, Farley, or I’ll call the police.”

Farley was still taking pictures as he jeered at Jordan. Since he had his camera on rapid speed, he’d have hundreds of them by now. Great.

“Show us that baby bump, girl,” another reporter called out from behind Jordan.

“Don’t touch me!” Grace cried, and Jordan turned to see her slapping at a man’s hand. He’d been reaching toward her belly.

He saw red. “Leave her alone!” He shoved the reporter away, wrapped his arm around Grace, and led her away from them.

The reporters followed them, smelling blood in the water. Jordan had lost his cool completely, and Grace was holding her belly like she was protecting their baby from jackals. He noted a few of the reporters had accomplices, men waiting in running cars, ready to follow them.

“We’re taking my car,” he said, changing their course and leading her to the passenger side of his Maserati.

She didn’t argue with him. When they were both in his car, she huddled in her seat to prevent them from taking a good photo of her. He turned on the car and had to gun the engine to get the remaining jackals to move out of his way.

And then the chase began. They followed him out of the parking lot. Normally he would have raced off—ignoring the speed limit—but Grace and his child were precious passengers.

“What are we doing, Jordan?” she asked finally, her breath choppy. “I need my car tomorrow.”