Page 87 of Pucked Together

The heart rate monitor starts showing elevated numbers, and her breathing has become slightly erratic.

"Because I love you. And you are mine. So, no, this is not a mistake. That life inside of you is a piece of both of us. And I'm going to make sure you and that baby are taken care of for the rest of your lives. With everything I have to give. Do you understand me, Isabella?"

Her mouth must've gone dry because she's struggling to swallow. And now the machine is beeping at an increased rate.

"You...can't be serious?" she finally says, her voice breaking.

"Oh, baby. I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

"But...the team? Your career? That's your life, Ryker, I can't ask you to—"

"You're not asking me to do anything. I'm telling you. You and our baby, you are my life." I take her hand, as cold and tense as it is, and bring it up to my lips as I whisper into it, "And I'm not letting either of you out of my sight. You're mine."

I place a soft kiss on her hand before she slips it out of my grip and brings it up to her chest, cradling it with her other hand.

"So,” I continue, “I'm going to go out there and demand that your doctor sends you home with a lifetime supply of asthma medication. And you're coming home. With me."

I go to the door, and I'm about to walk out when she says, "No. I—can't live with you, Ryker. I—I don't even know you."

My entire world shatters at those words, and I turn to her. "Like hell, you won't. You're not leaving my side."

Before she can protest any further, I walk out and shut the door behind me.

"I guess this calls for a celebration," Row says, raising his beer.

I look up from my seat beside the pool at the back window of my house, relieved to know that Izzy is inside.

A low chuckle escapes me. "I always wanted a family. Never thought in a million years it would be like this." I bring my beer to my lips and suck down the amber liquid.

"It's a hell of a story for your grandkids," he says, leaning back in the lounge chair with one arm over his head and the other holding his bottle near his hips.

"I think she might still be in love with her ex," I admit to him.

"What? That Sincaid dude? Fuck that guy."

"I'm serious, Row."

"So am I," he smirks.

When I don't grin, he sits up again, swings his legs over the lounge, and kicks my chair.

"Hey. You've been through tougher shit. If anyone can figure this out, it's you." He tilts his beer to me before taking another swig. "And if it doesn't work out between you two, just let her know that Uncle Rowan will always be here for her."

He sends me a wink, knowing it'll get under my skin.

"You're a dick, you know that."

He shrugs. "Been called worse."

"She asked to talk to him. Some bullshit about closure. Asked Keelan for his number."

"Is that why you keep looking at her room like you suddenly have supersonic hearing through your eyes?"

"What do you think they're talking about?" I look up at the window to her room again and take another sip of beer.

"Ry. Man. Stop worrying about it. She's your girl. She's having your baby. You've already proven to her that you're not going anywhere. And if that dog of hers is any indication, your own kid is going to love you. I guarantee it."

Wednesday lifts her head from where she's lying between my legs. She must know he's talking about her.