She’s awake, propped on one elbow, her hair in complete disarray around her head, falling past her shoulders. She tugs the T-shirt down over her chest, a grimace marring her delicate features. “Look at you. It’s disgusting.”
“What? Why?” Is she mad at me? Ever since she had the baby, she’s been on edge. Moody, weepy, determined, grumpy, happy, tired. Nothing out of control, but when I can’t gauge her mood, it’s a little disconcerting.
Fine. It’s a lot disconcerting. A moody Fable is a no-fun Fable.
A sigh escapes her as she shakes her head. “You’re beautiful, in the best condition of your life. I remember when we first met and I thought you were perfection then.”
I stand up a little straighter, giving a quick glance down at myself. She’s right. I am in peak condition. But I train my ass off. I should be in peak condition. “Uh, thanks?”
She starts to laugh. “You look scared. Don’t be. I’m not going all postpartum on you. I just … you look amazing and I look terrible.”
“Are you serious?” I’m incredulous. “You don’t look terrible.”
“I feel terrible. I rarely wear anything but yoga pants or sweats and T-shirts, and most of the time my clothes are stained with breast milk or spit-up or whatever.” She flops down on the bed, ever careful of the sleeping Autumn, who’s still tucked close by her side. “I’m scared, Drew.”
From misery to fear within seconds, her mood swings make no sense to me. Sometimes I have trouble keeping up with her. “Of what?” I go to the bed, scoop up Autumn, and settle in beside Fable, our baby resting on my chest. I can feel her warm little puffs of breath against my skin, her lips moving as she stirs and settles more comfortably against me, and I stroke her tiny back, reaching out with my other hand to cup Fable’s cheek. “Do you know how beautiful you are right now?”
She rolls her pretty green eyes, her lips curved in the faintest of smiles. “Give me a break.”
“I’m serious.” I stare at her, taking in her weary eyes, the dark circles that line them, her wild hair. She’s worn out and still so pretty. Guilt swamps me because I’ve done this to her. I’m the one who impregnated her, put her through labor, where she pushed out our baby after what felt like hours of torture—even though I wasn’t there in the delivery room that long—that made me want to lose my mind because there was nothing I could do for her to ease her pain. And then I leave her to go to training camp. Take off again to start the preseason, traveling around the country playing f**king football while she stays at home and raises our child.
Who’s doing the more important job here?
“What if you find someone better?” she whispers thinly, her eyes wide. “You’re going to be gone all the time. You have so many fans and they throw themselves at you, Drew. I know why. I get it. You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re amazing out on that field. They want you.”
“But I only want you.” I tug her in close, holding both my girls to me. “We’ve had this conversation before,” I murmur against her hair. She smells good. She always smells good. So does Autumn. “I thought you understood how I felt.”
“Feeding that hungry baby at all hours of the night, my mind starts to wander,” she admits, her voice small.
“Well, make it stop. I don’t know what more I can do to prove how I feel about you.” I pause, staring into her eyes. “I love you. Only you. You’re it for me, Fable. You’re my wife and the mother of my child. You’ve seen me at my best, at my worst, and everything in between. I don’t want anyone but you. What you’ve given me, it’s the best gift I’ve ever received.” Leaning down, I brush her mouth with mine, feel her lips tremble.
“You mean Autumn? Because you had a hand in that, too, you know.”
Chuckling, I shake my head, cuddling our baby closer to my chest. “She’s a pretty awesome gift. But I’m talking about what you gave me from the very start. Before Autumn, before all of this.” I kiss her again, overwhelmed by what I feel for Fable, what I want to say to her. I don’t understand why she doesn’t know how much I love her. Need her. “Your unconditional love, baby. You never backed down. You never gave up on me. Ever. And I needed that. I was so screwed up but you never let that stop you, thank God.”
Tears are streaming down her cheeks and I swipe them away with my thumb. “I love you, Drew. So much.”
“I love you, too. Just because I’m traveling all over the country and have crazy women screaming at me doesn’t mean I love you any less. All that shit makes me love you even more. You’re my normal. My home. I miss you so damn much when I’m gone. I miss Autumn, too. I hate being away from you two.” I kiss her again, letting my lips linger on hers. She tastes sweet. Familiar. My heart thumps hard against my chest and my body stirs.
I’ve missed her. She was so uncomfortable those last few weeks pregnant with Autumn. And since then we haven’t had a chance to be together because of doctor’s orders and all that other bullshit. Plus, I’ve been gone.
Which means I’ve been without Fable for much too long. I need to rectify that.
Now.
“We hate when you’re gone, too,” she whispers against my lips. “But I understand, Drew. I never want you to feel guilty for working.”
“Too late.” I kiss her again, taking it deeper. A little sound of pleasure escapes her and I break the kiss, cuddle Autumn closer, and climb off the bed. “Going to put our little princess in her crib.”
“Wait.” Fable reaches out just as I turn and send her a stern look. She settles against the pile of pillows behind her, crossing her arms in front of her. “She might wake up.”
“She’s sound asleep,” I whisper as I glance down at my baby girl snug in my arms. She’s out, her lips parted, her eyes tightly closed, the spike of thick, dark eyelashes like little fans resting against her creamy skin. I may be a prejudiced bastard because she’s my baby and all but damn, she’s beautiful.
“Fine,” Fable says on a sigh, ever the overprotective mama. “Put her to bed.”
“Then I’m going to put you to bed,” I say, waggling my brows, making her laugh softly. “Be prepared, wife. It’s been way too long since I’ve had you naked.”
Fable
Oh. No.