3 years later

Denver, Colorado - May

I shut the front door behind me and locked it, placing my yoga mat in the entry closet. Peals of laughter echoed down the hallway behind me. Daddy daughter days were hard to swing, scheduling-wise, but they were always a huge hit. I was happier with some time off to recharge, too.

A sense of contentedness settled within me, blanketing me with warmth. I strolled down the hall and poked my head into the playroom to investigate. "What do we have here?"

Tatum was wearing a frilly yellow princess dress while she perched in a pink chair, swinging her legs and pretending to drink out of a blue plastic teacup. The other three chairs were occupied by a stuffed elephant, a baby doll, and a plastic dinosaur.

Chase was sitting on the floor in front of the tiny pink table, awkwardly attempting to fit his legs underneath. He had purple bows in his hair, hot pink nail polish on his fingers, and I'd never been happier to call him mine.

Tatum beamed. "We're having a tea party."

"Looks like fun," I said.

Chase pushed to stand, patting Tatum on the head as he passed by her on his way to me. Leaning in, he gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Hi, baby."

"Eating in the playroom?" I quirked a brow, trying and failing to look stern. There were orange cracker crumbs all over the hardwood floor. We had an "eating at the table" rule in our house. Or at least, we tried to. But some of us were better at enforcing the rules than others.

"She said please..." He slid an arm around my waist, giving me a sheepish grin. No one could stay mad at that face. It was an impossibility. There was nothing better than seeing a gigantic hockey player wrapped around our daughter's little finger. "Did you have a good day with Shiv?"

My solo day off had been glorious. After yoga, lunch, and mani-pedis with another adult today, I felt like a human being again. I loved being a mom, but with Chase's road trip schedule, sometimes I got worn out from parenting alone.

Chase kept saying we should hire a part-time nanny, but with Tatum starting preschool in the fall, I didn't see the point. I had things handled, it was just busy. I worked in the mornings, during naps, or after Tatum went to bed. It was a good way to fill my spare time alone while Chase was gone.

Though, being pregnant again meant my "spare time" was about to disappear entirely.

"It was nice," I said. "How was mini-skate?" So far, Tatum loved skating lessons. But I wasn't sure who was more excited about them: father or daughter.

"It was fun!" Tatum called, pouring more tea for her stuffed elephant. The tulle of her frilly princess stress rustled while she bustled around the table like a busy hostess, tending to her dinner party guests.

Chase nodded. "She skated circles around the other three-year-olds. Most of the four-year-olds, too." Not all that surprising, given she was also taller than most of the four-year-olds. We really did have giant kids.

"So you're judging the toddler skate now."

"She comes by it naturally."

"Nice flex, Carter."

He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, jutting his chin at me. "Maybe I meant she got it from you."

"You didn't." I laughed. "I like your hair, by the way."

"What?" With a frown, he reached up, patting his head. His fingers landed on the rows of purple satin bows in his dark hair that matched the ones in Tatum's pigtails. "Oh, yeah." He grinned, tugging them out and combing his hair with his fingers. "We were playing beauty salon before we had our tea party."

Playing pretend was one of Chase's parenting strengths. I tried to play along too, but Tatum had bluntly informed me that I wasn't nearly as good at it as he was. I was more suited to things like reading together, making crafts, and taking her on outings like the zoo.

"I guess that explains the nails."

He glanced down at his fingers, holding them up in display. "I dig it. I think I'll keep it on for the game tonight," he said. "You know, for good luck."

In the background, Tatum stood up and began to rearrange the chairs. She scolded the elephant and dinosaur, who'd apparently been "naughty." Between my love for following the rules and Chase's stubborn streak, I was pretty sure we were raising a future lawyer. Maybe even a judge, someday.

Either way, the world was in for a reckoning when she got older.

"Oh, before I forget," I said. "Derek wants to know if we're still coming to the cabin for Fourth of July weekend." Tatum would like nothing more than to run amok with her cousin, splashing in the lake and staying up too late to watch the fireworks.

"Sure, as long as your doctor is cool with you traveling."

Pregnancy was a pain that way. It was like being on house arrest toward the end, for fear you'd go into labor while out of town. Even more so knowing I was going to be having another c-section; I didn't want just any doctor slicing me open, I wanted my doctor.

"I won't be in my third trimester yet... I think it'll be okay, but I'll check. He wants to book a tee time, says Eagle Ridge books up fast."

"Guess he's got lots of spare time now that they've been eliminated for the season." Chase smirked.

"Be nice." I reached over and poked him in the side of his ribs, where I knew he was ticklish.

Chase flinched and stifled a laugh, grabbing my hand and kissing it before releasing it. "Come on, it's just a little friendly competition between teams." He rubbed his stubbled jawline, turning thoughtful. "Though, this does mean he has more time to work on his golf game. He's going to kick my ass on the course again this year."

Behind him, Tatum accidentally knocked over the tea set and it scattered all over the floor. She stared at it for a moment, tiny face threatening to crumple. Her bottom lip tugged into a pout as she kneeled down to pick up all the pieces. I glanced down at my watch, confirming that it was nap time. Past it, actually—which showed.

I murmured, "Do you want to put her down while I take a shower?"

"Yup." Chase walked over, kneeling down to Tatum's height. "Come on, kiddo. Let's go read and have a little rest."

She nodded obediently, holding out her arms. If I had tried to put her down for a nap without a five-minute advance warning, she would have rioted.

He scooped her up with one hand, cradling her against his hip and carrying her over to me. Tatum wrapped her arms around my neck and patted me on the back with her little hands. My heart nearly burst from the sweetness of the gesture. She smelled vaguely of fruit-flavored candy, which I suspected had also been part of this rule-breaking tea party. It was a really wild Saturday afternoon in the Carter household.

"Bye, Mommy."

"Bye, sweetheart." I kissed the top of her head before she turned away, clinging to Chase. She leaned her head against his shoulder, eyelids already growing heavy. Her braided pigtails rested against his white tee, her hair the same shade of dark brown as his own.

"Where's Moo?" I heard her ask as they disappeared through the doorway. Moo was the ridiculous, oversized pink cow that Derek bought her for Christmas last year. It was cute, but it was almost as big as Tatum was. Of course, it was her favorite.

Chase's voice carried down the hall. "Pretty sure he's in your bed. Let's go see..."

*

Half an hour later, Chase walked into our bedroom just as I finished getting dressed. "She just fell asleep," he said. "We read The Paper Bag Princess ten times and she conked out clutching her hockey bear."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that starting a nap this late meant Tatum would be up late tonight, too. He'd find that one out the hard way at bedtime when we played jack-in-the-box with her popping out of bed every two minutes.

His brow creased. "Wait, did you finish your article?"

"Just submitted it this morning." After writing, re-writing, revising, and re-revising it more times than I could count. I didn't get writer's block often, but when I did, it was a bear.

Plus, working on an article about playoff predictions was tough when the byline read Bailey Carter and Chase Carter was in the playoffs. The optics were tricky; I didn't want to seem like I was lacking in objectivity. Even if I was. Obviously, I wanted his team to win.

"Who'd you pick to win the Cup?" Chase sat down on the bed across from me, tilting his head. I zipped up my light grey hoodie—which was straining over my belly already—and avoided his eyes.

"Uh... Anaheim." I glanced up. He raised his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything. "You know that's what the numbers say," I added. "Statistically speaking."

Chase grinned. "Fuck the numbers."

"I still think you'll win, but when I'm writing for work, I can't let my personal opinions influence what I say too much. Gotta listen to the data, too."

I eased down onto the bed beside him, leaning against his broad shoulder. He laced his fingers in mine, squeezing gently, and let out a low hmph.

We both knew I thought Colorado would win, deep down, but I had to keep personal and professional separate as much as possible—especially as a woman in a male-dominated industry. Sadly, I was no stranger to online trolls haunting the comments section of my sports reporting articles, accusing me of being partial and unprofessional any time an article I'd written mentioned Chase or Chase's team. What was I supposed to do, pretend my husband didn't exist?

"You're going above and beyond to avoid the illusion of bias, I'll give you that. But you know we're going to crush them in the next series." His fingers landed on my bare ring finger, tracing the skin, and his smile faded. "Where are your rings?"

Probably worried I lost my new anniversary band. Technically meant to be an anniversary band, but when I got pregnant again, he got too excited and gave it to me early. At any rate, I knew exactly where that stunning diamond eternity band was—in my dresser, because it no longer fit on my sausage finger.

"My fingers are too swollen. I took them off the night before to shower and couldn't get them back on. I didn't want to force it and risk them getting stuck."

He frowned, massaging my hand in his own. "Really? That didn't happen till the end last time."

"I guess that's a perk of having twins: the accelerated, extra-strength symptom package," I said. "When do you have to leave for the game?"

"Not for a couple of hours." Chase shifted on the bed and turned his body to face me. His mouth tugged, eyes blazing a path down my body and saying more with a single look than words ever could. "Why?"

"You know why."

"Mmm." His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. He smiled against my lips. "I love pregnant horny James."

Is daddy Chase cute, or what? Thanks for reading!

Any guesses on the twins? Boys or girls, or one of each?