Infinity. (Infinity Series) (16 page)

Her stomach is already flat again—she doesn’t agree—and she’s lost her pregnancy weight, thanks to her aversion to my cologne while she was pregnant. She argues that the scale is wrong, because she still feels fat.

Discreetly, I adjust my semi-hard cock, and ponder if I might have to “make a call” while she’s feeding the baby. This six-weeks-without-making-love-to-my-wife thing sucks.

Charlie flops down in one of the oversized chairs in the living room and unzips the front of her sports bra, freeing the beauties. I involuntarily lick my lips, which causes her to shoot me a disgusted look. “They’re for Elizabeth.”

I shrug. I’m a guy with a hot wife that now has tits crafted by the gods—so sue me. That’s my only excuse. I stand up and carefully bring Charlotte to her, feeling a sense of loss as I place her in Charlie’s outstretched arms. And because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, I reach down and cop a feel, giving her my panty-dropping half-smile. She rolls her eyes as she adjusts Charlotte on her breast. Two can play her little game of manipulation—
Dallas Cowboys PJs indeed.

“Today’s the day,” she says. “Let’s make this official. Elizabeth Colin McKinney. Great name. We can call her Liz, Lizzy, Beth, Eliza, Liza, Libby, Betty—she’ll have tons of nicknames.”

She’s chosen Elizabeth because she feels like she owes it to Liza. My kid’s name is too important to choose it because it settles some arbitrary debt.

I flop back down on the couch across from her and lean back, getting extra comfortable, preparing for the epic battle of wills. “While those are all great points, Doctor Collins, Charlotte Jane McKinney is a beautiful name. Named after her mother’s nickname, blessed with the middle name of my gorgeous wife. Perfection!”

I watch her try to open the lid of her water bottle with one hand. I rise to my feet to help her when she raises her eyebrows and drops her chin. “Sit back down. You’re going back to work soon. I’ve got to figure out how to do stuff one-handed.” Then, she smirks, and adds, “You’ve spoiled me.”

She places the water bottle between her knees and uses her left hand to twist off the cap. She holds her water up, imitating my now famous pose when I won the MVP trophy. I can’t help but laugh at her flattery attempts.

“Okay, so we are at a complete impasse. My mom and dad named us after president’s kids. We could take that route,” she suggests.

I mentally go through their names in my head; Chelsea Clinton, Caroline Kennedy, Julie Nixon, Amy Carter. Then, before I can stop myself, I flash her my shit-eating grin. It’s the full smile that makes my eyes crinkle. “What about Jenna, then?”

If looks could kill, Charlie would have just crucified me on the couch. She picks up one of the throw pillows from her chair and hurls it at me left-handed. I must say, she’s got quite an arm on her. “Speaking of Jenna, would you like to write the thank-you note for the congratulations flowers, or shall I do it?” She bats her long eyelashes as a sugar-coated grin spreads across her gorgeous face.

“I’ll have Jenny send her a form thank-you note.” I make a dismissive gesture, making sure she knows that this subject is closed.

The flowers Jenna sent were obnoxious, over the top, and stunk. The card read, “All my love to the new little family, Aunt Jenna.” I intercepted them before they were delivered to Charlie’s room, and had them disposed of.

Jenna’s still trying to get back in my good graces after the stunt she pulled last year. Inviting my wife and paparazzi to our meeting at the hotel pretty much moved Jenna to my “I don’t give a fuck” list. Although, Aiden did convince me not to take her house and car away from her. His reasoning was sound. Everything she owns, I’ve purchased for her. If I had taken it away, I had nothing to hold over her head to keep her quiet. We moved all the monetary assets that I’d given her into a trust. She plays nicely for the next five years, she gets it all, plus a hundred-thousand dollar bonus. Hopefully, it’s incentive enough.

Without missing a beat, I get us back on the important subject at hand: naming our daughter. “Should we go through the baby-naming book for the billionth time?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I never want to see that dog-eared thing again.” Then she pauses. Her lavender eyes grow wide, and a twinkle appears. “If I can’t have Elizabeth Colin, what do you think about naming her after Aiden?”

I feel like Pancho, trying to interrupt what these stupid humans are saying. My head cocks to the side, and I raise my lip and eyebrows. She’s got to be crazy if she thinks I’m naming my baby girl Aiden.

She continues. “Ainsley is the female name for Aiden. He’s been such a good friend to both of us, and I rather like the name. Ainsley McKinney has a nice ring to it. It’s different, but not different like no one’s heard it before. It’s cute for a little girl as well as an adult professional. It doesn’t rhythm with anything, so that limits what she can be called on the playground.”

That’s been one of my huge issues with choosing a name. I’m already saddling the poor kid with a famous dad and paparazzi-favorite parents who’ve had every conceivable lie printed about them. Hell, Charlie and I had to sneak our baby out of the hospital using a delivery entrance in the middle of the night, for God’s sake. I don’t want to add a poor name choice on top of her inherent-by-birth baggage.

I say the name out loud, “Ainsley.” It’s pretty. It has a nice ring to it. Of course, Aiden will get a kick out of us naming our baby girl after him. I think that I love it. “Ainsley,” I repeat out loud. “Ainsley.”

I jump off the couch and into the air, yelling, “Sold!”

It startles Ainsley, and she yelps. Charlie shoots me a dirty look as she soothes our baby.

I sit back down, and say, “Ainsley Jane McKinney… perfection.”

Charlie corrects me, and says, “Ainsley Elizabeth McKinney.”

While Charlie finishes feeding Ainsley, I slip out the backdoor and confer with Jamie on what plans he’s put in place to keep my family safe.

Jamie is sitting at his desk, reviewing video footage from the guard shack. “Anything new?” I ask as I take a seat across from him.

He looks apologetic and shakes his head. “Sorry, Mr. McKinney. We’re working our tails off.”

I nod. I know he is. Jamie takes his job very seriously. “What’s the plan for the party today?”

He diverts his gaze from the screen and leans forward on the desk, looking me in the eye. “Your guests will pass through two security checkpoints. The caterer is leaving the food at the guard stand. There’s not enough time to complete background checks on all of the caterer’s employees. Everyone that enters your home will have either passed a previous screening like Alice and Chef, or be on your invitation list.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it under control,” I reply. As I stand up, I reach out and shake Jamie’s hand. “I appreciate what a great job you did training the gate guards. Make sure they get a bonus on their next paycheck from Doctor Collins and myself.”

A smile breaks out across his face, and he says, “Thank you Mr. McKinney. They were just doing their job, but I know they’ll appreciate it.”

As I turn to leave, Jamie yells, “One more thing.”

I stop, and spin around. Poor guy looks like he’s scared to say whatever it is. “You’re going to have to inform Doctor Collins that she can’t jog around the gated neighborhood anymore without taking one of the security guys. Also, I’m assigning two of my men to her and Ainsley at all times when they leave the house.”

No wonder the guy looked petrified. Charlie will not be pleased, but she’s just going to have to suck it up. After the asshole has been arrested, I’ll tell her what a close call we had.

I sigh as I walk back to my home. This is my life… all because I can throw a football.

Our family and friends don’t mind passing through the added security measures when they arrive for the party. Everyone is too excited about meeting Ainsley Elizabeth Jane McKinney. We reasoned if the future king of England can have multiple names, so can Miss Ainsley.

****

My first full day away from Charlie and Ainsley is much harder than I’d thought that it would be. I text her fifty times at least. Finally, her sister Amy texts me back, and says I have to stop because everyone is trying to nap.

Amy has been a gift from God. She’s an elementary education teacher who worked at a pre-school. After nine straight nights of not sleeping more than a couple of hours, Charlie called her and begged her to help. Amy quit her job, and moved in upstairs.

She’s great. She keeps to herself and doesn’t need for us to entertain her. She’s working on her masters, so she’s busy with her online courses, but can pause her work if we need her.

We discussed having my mom or Charlie’s mom come spend some time with us, but we both decided that it wasn’t a good idea. Susan and Charlie are not on the best of terms because my mom can be a clueless ditz. I love Charlie’s mom, but my mom would get her feelings hurt if we didn’t include her.

By hiring Amy, we soothed our mothers, are actually sleeping, and have given Amy an opportunity to focus on school. Win/win situation for all parties involved.

Today, is Charlie’s first day off of the antidepressants. She seems to be doing okay. I’ve watched her like crazy to make sure that she didn’t slip into old habits. She’s been eating, and kept her exercise to reasonable levels. I’ve been so proud of my girl. The only bad habit she’s picked back up is her coffee. Frankly, I’m surprised that she made it through her pregnancy without having a cup.

I toss my phone on Coach’s desk, making it clear to everyone in the room that I plan on answering it if it rings. The team president, GM, Aiden, and Mark are already there. We’re just waiting for Coach to finish up a phone call.

I have a feeling I know why they called this meeting. This is the last season that I’m under contract. They’re going to offer a contract extension because they don’t want my status with the team to be a distraction next season. And it shouldn’t be. Super Bowl, MVP-winning quarterbacks should be taken care of.

This is a damn good position to be in. The last time I had to worry about my contract, we’d had another almost, this-close season. My divorce had been recently finalized. I’d been on a path of destruction, doing whatever and whomever I pleased. What a difference the years make.

Coach comes walking into his office with his jaw set in a tight grimace, and running a fist over his heart. The team president asks before the rest of us can, “Are you okay?”

He laughs, and flops back in his quilted leather executive chair. “I’m too fucking old to eat chicken wings anymore.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement. Coach starts talking, “So Colin, we obviously want you to be our franchise quarterback for as long as you can play. Let’s cut to the chase. We want to offer you a contract guaranteeing that you’ll retire from football in a Cowboy’s jersey.”

Aiden and Mark let out an audible sigh behind me. This is obviously the best-case scenario.

I smile, and reach across the desk and shake Coach’s hand. “That’s what I’ve always wanted. Cowboy for life.”

The conversation then moves into contract specifics, and things that I let Mark and Aiden handle. I grab my phone and check for any messages. Like the dream that she is, Charlie texted me a picture of Ainsley, Pancho, and Amy lying together on the couch.
Life is good.

****

Another drab, generic hotel room with popcorn ceiling. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to leave my girls overnight, but I’ve limited my trips to as few as possible. The fucking nights are the worst. During the day, I’m too busy to remember that Charlie and Ainsley are at home and not with me. I’d gotten so used to Charlie traveling to all my games that it never occurred to me that once the baby arrived, her days of traveling would be over.

Kissing my girls goodbye and climbing into my truck was one of the hardest things that I’ve had to do to date. It’s the first away-game of the season, and this hotel room couldn’t feel lonelier if it tried. I hate that I will not get to read to Ainsley, give her a bath, or tuck her in.

Is Ainsley sleeping right now? Was she good for Charlie in the bathtub? What did she think of the new baby food that Charlie was going to try introducing? Is Charlie asleep? Can she sleep without me next to her? Is she missing me?

I look at the clock. The red numbers scream at me, “Go to sleep, fucker, you’ve got to play football tomorrow.” But I can’t. I’ve lost the ability to sleep when she’s not next to me.

I grab my iPad, and decide to distract myself with some world news. Unfortunately, I scroll to the entertainment section, and see a news story about Charlie and me. I click on it out of morbid curiosity, and read the headline. “Is Charlie Already Stepping Out on Colin?” It’s a picture of Charlie with Brad. He’s pushing Ainsley in her stroller, but thankfully, Charlie has a light blanket thrown over the compartment so you can’t see my baby’s face. Her arm is looped through Brad’s arm at the elbow. She’s dressed in exercise clothes and he has on pair of jeans, navy T-shirt, and sunglasses. I’ll give the photographer credit. It does look like her and Brad are lovers. If I didn’t know for a fact that he was one-hundred percent devoted to Carter and has only platonic love for my wife, I might just kill the fucker right now. But that twinge of anger, maybe jealousy, which still gnaws at me about Brad being the one to take my wife to the hospital to have our daughter is still there. It was Brad who’d held her hand, and helped her through her early contractions. The thought of Brad being with my wife while she was in labor with our daughter makes me crazy.

Because I’m a sadist, I scan the story further, adding a match to my combustible feelings. It mentions Charlie and Brad shopping for antiques while “taking Colin’s baby for a stroll.” They dined outdoors and sipped champagne - although in the picture it’s just Brad with a glass in hand. Then it notes that Charlie breastfed our baby at the table while Brad seemed to not care. I roll my eyes. I’m sure parent groups are going to be up in arms that my wife dared to sip champagne while breastfeeding even though there’s no evidence that she actually did.