“That’s what I call teamwork,” Maxwell said, loading up some bites on a different fork for the other two, now that they both wanted to join their sister’s fun airplane-sound-aided dining experience.
“And now I see why they pay you the big bucks,” Jill said with a wink. The smile he sent her in response made her belly flip. It was hard not to be affected by this man’s brute handsomeness. There was something even hotter about a man willing to joke around while flanked with kids.
Besides, she recognized the dinner for what it was: an averted meltdown. All three kids quietly ate, as though noticing for the first time the fact that they had full plates of food in front of them. And she liked to think that it was a signal of how the two of them might be able to handle the triplets moving forward.
Co-parenting was what she kept calling it in her head. Even though a past romance hadn’t led them to their current situation, she had to fight to remind herself that a future one didn’t lie ahead.
This is the triplets’ step-uncle. You are their auntie. The only reason you know him is because of the kids, and that’s how it’s going to stay.
Because Jill knew that breaching the barrier of that setup could only lead to trouble.
Maxwell was too handsome for words. And though Jill barely knew him, she knew what men like him got into on the weekends or after work.
The same type of things her ex pulled behind her back for years before she wised up and got out.
No amount of handsomeness was worth that hurt and betrayal. Which meant that Unka Mack, no matter how easy to look at he was, would always be off limits.
3
“Damn, Maxwell. You’re struggling!” Mark Coleridge cackled in the weight room the next morning. The smirking running back slapped Maxwell’s shoulders as he passed the rowing machine on his way to a different piece of equipment.
“Yeah, right,” Maxwell retorted, hurrying to slap his friend before he went too far but missing. Mark laughed from across the weight room, while James just shook his head from the bench press.
He’d taken a week off from the league for bereavement leave—which nobody could blame him for—but even a week after coming back, he felt the effects of the time off. And though Mark was just giving him the standard good-natured crap owed by all close friends, only Maxwell knew how true it was.
But the difference was that he wasn’t just struggling in the weight room. Recuperating the physical side was the least of his worries.
It was the everything else that had him struggling. New fatherhood. Triplet routines. Getting a full night’s sleep.
If only there were a way to go back to the lightheartedness of life a month ago. Back before Carmen and Wayne had made plans for that date night that stole their lives, robbed their kids of their parents.
James wandered over a moment later, the usual mix of concern and friendliness on his face. He was the big brother Maxwell had never asked for but was damn glad he’d found.
“How’s everything going, buddy?” he asked, sitting on the seat of the rowing machine beside him.
Maxwell sighed, dropping the handles of his machine. “You want the truth, or you want me to sugarcoat it?”
“Always the truth.”
“Dude, this parenting thing is nuts.” He raked a hand through his hair. “And there’s three of them and only one of me.”
James winced. “That’s intense.”
“I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. I know they’re only two years old, but damn.”
“Well, that feeling never goes away—I can promise you that much,” James said with a grimace. “And I’ve got a preteen. I thought I’d have the hang of this shit by now, but it only gets weirder.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It’s not. I fully accept that. But it’s part of the package, buddy. You know, maybe it’s time you start connecting with other dads. Get your support group going.”
Maxwell lowered his chin. “Support group?”
“Yeah. As single dads, we need them. Well—” He looked over his shoulder, as though scoping the workout room for Daisy. “You know what I mean.”
“Currently taken single dad,” Maxwell clarified for him, which earned him a laugh.
“Exactly. And I know it hasn’t been that long since you got custody of the kids, but maybe make time for a support group night sooner rather than later. The team is going out for dinner tonight—plenty of us are dads. Maybe you should see if you can snag an evening away. Mark and I will be there.”
Maxwell sighed, feeling simultaneously overwhelmed by the suggestion and seduced by the notion of getting back to his regular life and rhythms. Really, the suggestion was solid. He needed support as much as he needed a night of normalcy. Things had turned into a tornado over the past three weeks, and he still felt like he’d be whisked away into the winds at any moment.
“You’re probably right,” Maxwell conceded. “The nanny is always offering to work late if needed. I can ask her to stay for a couple more hours tonight. I’m sure she won’t have a problem.”
“Good. That’s a good first step.” James squeezed his shoulder. “And just remember, I’m here whenever you need to talk. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I want to help if I can.”
“Appreciate that, Sullivan.” Maxwell clapped his buddy on the back, feeling slightly buoyed for the first time since…well…since the accident, but that wasn’t entirely true. No, meeting Jill had buoyed him too—in more ways than he wanted to admit to himself.
The workday passed quickly, though Maxwell couldn’t tell if it was just pre-playoff adrenaline that had him and his teammates hyped up, or if he was really that excited about having a dinner out of the house and without the triplets. In a regular season, life consisted of only football, workouts, and sleep. But now? It was all that plus child-rearing, and he certainly hadn’t planned on wedging those duties into the season this year.
At this point, after only a few weeks of the dedicated-daddy lifestyle, the possibility of a kid-free dinner felt too good to be true.
After practice ended around 5 p.m., he zipped home as quickly as he could to touch base with the triplets and the nanny. He spent a half hour with them, playing and cuddling, before it was time to meet his teammates at Ernie’s, their favorite post-practice restaurant. He spotted Mark and James right away, relief trickling through him. Yes, they were both fathers, and yes, they could still have evenings away from home. He needed to remind himself of that every so often.
Life will get back to normal soon.
He slid into the empty seat next to James, greeting all the teammates at the table. About half the team was here, and they came to this place so regularly that they had a permanent reservation at a central table. It was an unspoken agreement between them and the restaurant—the promise of running into the NFL team was a draw for the local customers, while the team got beyond top-notch service, with no limit on how many modifications they could make based on their individual diets.
Maxwell could feel the near-constant attention of other restaurant-goers as he and his teammates settled into conversation and ordered drinks. Before long, he felt a different type of attention on him. Something made the hairs on his arm stand at attention.