Hunter reaches inside and pulls out the note. He reads it to himself and grins. “The team.”

  “The team?”

  “Enjoy the week off, asshole,” he reads aloud, showing me the note.

  “I’m sensing some envy there.”

  “And lots of it.” He tosses the note back into the bowl. “I’m not sure they sent enough for us, though,” he jokes.

  I laugh as I explore the rest of the suite. There’s a stack of wedding gifts waiting for us on a coffee table, along with a large bassinet sitting next to it. White lace coverings. A big red bow on top. Very expensive.

  “Ah, jeez,” I say, shaking my head as I look inside.

  Hunter lingers over my shoulder. “Ah, jeez.”

  A handwritten note sits on the tiny pillow inside, the swishing penmanship instantly recognizable.

  Home Run Baby 2, please.

  Love always, Trisha.

  “Absolutely not,” Hunter says.

  “I agree.” I crumble the note. “I’m keeping the crib, though.”

  He laughs and slides his suit jacket off.

  I lay Violet inside, happy that our excitement hasn’t woken her up at all. This girl has had a long day of getting tossed around to various strangers and loved ones. She’s more exhausted than any of us.

  Hunter wraps his arm around my waist from behind. “How’s she doing?” he whispers, laying kisses on my neck.

  “Perfect, as always.”

  “Just like her mother.”

  I laugh softly and turn around to meet his lips. “One could argue that I am, in fact, wildly imperfect.”

  “And I would argue that’s what makes you perfect.”

  We kiss again, held close in each other’s embrace. He lifts me up and silently carries me toward the bedroom on the other side of the suite.

  “You look amazing in this dress,” he says, setting me down.

  “And you can really rock a tuxedo.”

  His fingers brush my collarbone. “I almost don’t even want to undress you.”

  “Oh, you better. This thing costs more than my camera.”

  He winces. “Yeah, we better take it off.”

  I spin around to present the zipper. “Slowly,” I tease.

  He licks his lips and finds the metal zipper buried between white satin. As he pulls it down, the gentle tapping tickles my spine, and he kisses my neck again. I shudder with warmth, feeling his lips curl against my skin.

  The zipper reaches my lower back. Hunter slides his hands around me, pulling me closer until our bodies touch.

  “Thank you,” he whispers to me.

  I crane back to look at him. “For what?”

  “For letting me love you.” He kisses my cheek. “For being my wife.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  His lips brush against mine. “And for her.”

  I kiss him back. “I think I should thank you for that one.”

  “I know I’ve said it before.” He turns me around to face him. “But you’re extraordinary.”

  “You make me extraordinary.”

  He smiles and pulls me in for a hard kiss; full of passion and need. “I love you, Daisy.”

  I grip his belt. “I love you, Hunter.”

  We lean against the bed and our lips never part ways as we slowly lay down together.

  He sits back and hooks his fingers inside my dress. I let him undress me. He keeps his eyes on me the entire time, watching as my breasts rise and fall. He bites his lip as he reveals the curve of my hips. Hunter has always looked at me the same way; starting with the night we met until now. Even when I felt my body was unrecognizable, he wanted me.

  He lays the dress over the back of a nearby chair and returns to me in my white bra and panties. I sit up to take hold of his belt and he caresses my cheek as I unzip him. He bends over to kiss me, breathing hard as I pull him down with me.

  Violet cries out from the other room. Smiles stretch across our faces.

  “How does she always know?” I ask.

  Hunter kisses me. “Stay here. I got her.”

  “You sure?”

  His tongue taps my lips, fueling the fire in me as he slides away. What a tease.

  I sit up on my elbows as he leaves me in heat. My ears focus, cutting out the city outside in favor of hearing him talk to his little girl.

  The crying stops within seconds. His deep voice mixes with her cheerful laugh.

  I stand off the bed and open the closet in the corner to find a robe hanging inside. I put it on and move quietly to the doorway to watch.

  Hunter paces slowly in front of the windows, pointing out into the world. Violet sits on his arm with wide eyes. It’s not the first view like this she’s seen on the road with us, and it won’t be the last, but she never grows tired of the flashing city lights and passing cars on the streets below.

  As for me, I never grow tired of this view. Hunter and his little baller-ina. Daddy and his little girl. Ever since the night she was born, and I woke up to see him standing there with her in his big hands and panic in his eyes. He’s far more confident now. She’s his baby. Always will be.

  I move with soft feet toward my camera bag.

  Hunter senses me behind them. He whispers in her little ear and Violet spins her head to look in my direction, as if she somehow understands every word he says, and laughs.

  I snap a photo of the two of them cloaked in moonlight. Fierce and protective, as Trisha described him.

  I set the camera down to join them by the window. Hunter lays a kiss on my forehead. I rest my head on his shoulder. Violet has already succumbed to a great yawn, and she closes her blue eyes.

  We slowly rock Violet back to sleep and slink away to resume our wedding night together. Quiet as mice, we undress and pleasure each other, taking our time making this night last for as long as possible. It’s a mess of sweat and wrinkled sheets and condom wrappers around us, but we don’t care. To us, it’s perfect.

  I melt beneath Hunter’s form, widening my legs and meeting every thrust he gives me. He sinks his teeth into my neck. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. Pleasure ripples through me, pushing me to the edge, and he knows it. His lips crush mine and they vibrate together with low moans.

  My body shakes, signaling a coming thunder. Hunter slows his thrust, driving me even crazier for him. I feel him sliding in and out, every inch ticking at me until I can barely hold it in.

  I come for him, always. He moves fast, laying a hand over my mouth to stop me from getting too loud. He grins with victory and gives me one last hard thrust before coming himself. His cock pulsates inside of me. His hands slip down to my breasts and thighs. He never takes his hands off me and I never want him to.

  “Home Run Hunter!” I tease, pretending to shout. “Home Run Hunter!”

  He laughs even harder, quickly losing his breath.

  “Just how do you crack so many home runs every game?” I ask, throwing on a professional voice.

  “Well, it’s quite simple,” he says, playing along. “All you gotta do is train hard, keep your eye on the ball, and find a very naughty lady to keep you warm at night.”

  I chuckle. “Is that all?”

  “Pretty much.” He rolls onto his side. “The naughtier, the better.”

  We lie together in each other’s arms, feeling our hearts race in our chests. After a few minutes, our pulses slow and the sweat on our brows dries up. I close my eyes as exhaustion takes over me.

  Hunter lays a kiss on my nose. “So, what do you think?” he whispers. “Wanna skip to the end?”

  “No,” I answer, curling into his embrace. “I think I’ll let this one play out.”

  He pulls me closer to him, spooning me against his chest. I fall silent. I feel the subtle push of his breath on my back and the strength of his hand resting on my stomach. His lips purse on my shoulder, sending beads of warmth down my spine.

  I smile, completely devoid of tears and sadness. I’m content, happy…

  Also, it’s baseball season. My favorite season.

  And no one is gonna ruin that for me.

  For a glimpse into Hunter and Daisy’s future, read their Extended Epilogue! Click here.

  THE PRINCES OF CHICAGO NORTH

  The Princes are all grown up…

  Meet them in my new series THE PRINCES OF CHICAGO NORTH!

  What happens when Junior and John find out their kids have fallen in love? I can’t say here, but I can say that Connor and Dana’s story is OFF THE CHARTS HOT!

  Turn the page to read the first chapter of Halftime Heartbreaker.

  EXCERPT: HALFTIME HEARTBREAKER

  CONNOR

  “Hey, Heartbreaker, stop gawking at my sister.”

  I snap out of it, but my eyes don’t stray far from Dana’s legs.

  She… never wears sundresses.

  “I’m not,” I say, adjusting the football in my palm before throwing it back across the lawn.

  Alex catches it. “Better not be.”

  He gives me a scolding eye before tossing the ball. Still, my gaze targets Dana again outside of their father’s car on the street. Her blonde hair travels the full length of her back, stopping just before her wrists hanging by her sides. Her dress is yellow and short, her exposed legs smooth and sun-kissed and—she’s looking at me.

  She’s looking at me, looking at her.

  I wave at them as her parents exit the car. “Go long, Mr. Kirby!” I shout, readying the ball.

  He hops backward into the empty suburban street. I throw, putting some heat behind it. John Kirby, retired football royalty, doesn’t need me to go easy on him.

  The ball sails into his open hands. “Good arm, Connor,” he says, impressed.

  “Good enough to be scout quarterback?” I ask.

  He chuckles as he throws it back to me, hitting me with as much force as I hit him. “Don’t see why not.” He sniffs the air. “Your dad out back?”

  “At the grill last I saw,” I say.

  He grimaces. “Better get back there before he burns my steak.”

  I laugh and bow my head to the ladies. “Hi, Dr. Kirby. Dana.”

  “Hey,” Dana says, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Good evening, Connor,” Dr. Rose Kirby says, her own blonde locks fixed in place in a casual ponytail. “Alex.”

  “Hey, Mom,” he grunts.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “He’s inside, using the bathroom.”

  With a nod, she steps forward onto the walkway. “No tackling,” she warns us.

  “Yes, Mother,” Alex says.

  “Don’t get dirty before dinner.”

  “Okay, Mother.”

  “No worries, Dr. Kirby,” I say, flashing a smile. “We’ll be in soon.”

  “Will Julie be joining us?” she asks Alex.

  “Nope,” Alex says. “I broke up with her.”

  Rose stalls on the sidewalk. Dana, too. I stand still, having been there for the breakup itself.

  It… wasn’t pretty.

  “What?” Rose asks in surprise. “Why?”

  “Because I’m a college guy now,” Alex says, scoffing. “I don’t need some high school girl tying me down.”

  She tilts her head, disappointed, before resuming her stride toward the house.

  “What?” Alex asks, his hands turned up.

  I breathe a quiet laugh. Truthfully, I’m not sure I wouldn’t do the same in his shoes. We’ve been talking about college for ages now; all the things we’ll do as Northies, as Alpha Delta Xi brothers, as Bearhawks. Emotional attachments would just get in the way of that.

  Dana stays a step behind her parents. She glances over her shoulder, her blue eyes focusing on me for a moment before leering at her brother.

  “Connor!” Alex says. “Throw the rock, man.”

  I toss the ball back, adding a little extra heat to it. Just like his old man, Alex catches it without shifting a single dark hair on his head.

  “You really think you have it, don’t you?” he asks.

  I look at him, raising my hands just in time to catch the ball targeting my face. “Have what?” I ask.

  “Scout QB.”

  “Sure, why not?” I throw it back. “You think I don’t?”

  He catches it. “I think it’ll be harder than you think.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not at Chicago North High anymore, Dorothy,” he jokes. “This is Chicago North University. Home of the legendary Bearhawks.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So, star athletes from across the country are on the scout team, same as us. And guess what? They were QBs at their high schools, too.”

  I laugh it off. “Yeah, but they aren’t me.”

  “And who are you again?”

  I’m Connor fucking Morgan.

  Son of Junior Morgan.

  Grandson of—

  “You’re Connor fucking Morgan, right?” he says, mocking my thoughts. “Son of Junior Morgan? Grandson of Cary Pierce?” He stands tall, smirking. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

  “Okay, we’ve known each other for way too long.”

  “Or you’re just very predictable.” He throws the ball. “Daddy’s name will only get you so far.”

  I catch, chuckling as I throw it back. “I could say the same to you, man.”

  “Hey, at least Ben and I have a gimmick. You…” He checks me up and down. “You have no gimmick.”

  “Well, keep your eyes peeled, Alex,” I say. “This year, you’ll see something new.”

  “Big words.” He throws the ball. “For such a tiny man.”

  The ball arches over my head and into the hands of his brother, Ben. I swivel around, glancing upward to look him in the eye. Same towering height. Same dark brown hair. Same cocky Kirby smirk. Identical in nearly every physical way. Eighteen years I’ve known these guys and I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if it weren’t for the way they color-code themselves. Alex wears red. Ben wears blue.

  And Dana wears little yellow sundresses now, apparently.

  I spot her through the windows across the lawn, smiling and chatting with my mother at the kitchen counter.

  Ben steps forward into my eyeline. “Oh, we shitting on Connor now?” he asks with a grin. “I wanna play.”

  “No, we’re not,” I say.

  “Heartbreaker here thinks he’s shoo-in for scout QB,” Alex says.

  Ben laughs. “Of course he does. Didn’t you hear? Cary Pierce is his grandpappy.”

  Alex gasps. “You don’t say?”

  “Don’t call me Heartbreaker,” I say, extending my hands up as Ben throws the ball over my head toward Alex.

  “Aw, look at that,” Alex says as he catches it. “Wittle Mowgan gettin’ weal mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” I say. “And I’m not short. You guys are just freakishly tall.”

  Alex throws the ball. Again it sales over my head into Ben’s hands. “Are we?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ben says.

  Ben throws the ball. This time, I time my jump, leaping as high as I can to intercept it mid-air. I land on the grass, planting my feet and standing tall with the ball.

  “Yes,” I say. “You are.”

  They swoon with fake awe and amusement as another car rolls to a stop just behind the Kirby’s sedan on the street, this one an SUV. Another family of familiar faces steps out, one face in particular a copy and paste of Rose Kirby’s with darker lipstick.

  Her twin sister, Daisy.

  Multiples run in the family.

  “Hey, Coach Novak,” I greet her husband while she targets the car seat in the back.

  Hunter Novak steps onto the grass, followed closely by their daughter, Violet. She wears black from head-to-toe, her caramel-colored locks tumbling over one shoulder; the antithesis to Dana in nearly every way, but that hasn’t stopped them from being friends their entire lives.

  “Hey, cuz,” Ben says to Violet.

  She bobs her chin, barely glancing up from her phone. “Yo.”

  “Hey, Connor,” Hunter says to me. I raise the ball, offering to throw it, but he waves a hand, declining the pass. Football isn’t his game. “Are we late?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. Still waiting on Coach.”

  “See?” Daisy says as she guides Aster out of his car seat. “I told you we weren’t late.”

  “Hey, you’re family,” I say. “And family can never be late, as my mom says.”

  “See?” she says to Hunter again before smiling at me. “Thank you, Connor.”

  Aster detaches from her as soon as he can and races toward us on the lawn. Alex takes a knee to scoop him up onto his shoulders, filling the neighborhood with infectious laughter only a six-year-old can provide. Aster beams. A child amongst giants.

  “Would you look at that?” Ben pokes Aster's belly. “Another few years and you’ll be taller than Morgan here.”

  I don’t laugh.

  “They used to tell me I was short, too,” Hunter says to me as they chuckle on. “It doesn’t matter as much as you’d think.”

  I smile, trusting his word. Hunter Novak is one of the greatest baseball players of his generation. I can probably take his word for it. “Thanks,” I say.

  “Anything I can say to convince you to tryout for baseball instead?” he asks, only slightly kidding. “We could use your speed.”

  I laugh. “Sorry. Pigskin is in my blood.”

  He shrugs. “Fair enough.”

  “Violet!”

  I instantly look at the porch. Dana is back, waving at Violet as she hops down the porch stairs. Violet abandons us and rushes toward her with open arms. They greet each other as if they haven’t seen one another in months, but I know they’ve spent almost the entire summer together along with my older sister, Courtney.

  I point over my shoulder. “Dads are at the grill, Coach.”

  He nods and starts that way as Daisy follows Violet inside.

  “Hey, Dana,” I say.

  She hangs back. I toss her the football, a light and casual throw. She startles, only for a second, before catching it with two capable hands.