behind the camera - fake dating sports romance (wlw)

Bonus Chapter 2

MILLIE

My wife is the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life. I know everyone says that about their partner, but no—I mean it. She was the most beautiful girl when we met. She was the most beautiful woman when I asked her to marry me. She's the kindest, most thoughtful person I've ever known.

But there was one version of her I hadn't met and that's Harper at thirty-five weeks pregnant, in the middle of a Florida summer. And honestly? She's terrifying. Still hot. But mostly terrifying.

"Shhh," I whisper dramatically, flattening myself against the kitchen cabinet like I'm in the middle of a war movie. Ciro is wrapped around me, clinging to my neck, his chubby legs hooked around my waist like a koala. His little hand pats my face like he's trying to comfort me—or maybe encourage me and he's giggling like this is the greatest day of his life.

"Ciro," I whisper again, this time more serious. "This is important."

We've been hiding for almost four minutes now. I checked my watch. Harper is stomping through this beach house like a very pregnant hurricane, and I have no regrets. Earlier, she dropped her pineapple in the sand, couldn't find the elastic she uses to tie her hair, and declared—loudly—that the air conditioning was a conspiracy. So, being the supportive spouse that I am, I stole my nephew from Aurora and ran.

"Amelia Elizabeth Bennett," Harper shouts from another room, "you better not be hiding with Ciro again!"

Ciro gasps like he just heard the villain in a Disney movie.

"Shhhhh!" I whisper, biting back a laugh. "She used my full name. That's not good, bug. That's really not good."

"Auntie Lili... doooomed," he says seriously, and I nod.

Someday he'll get my name right, I swear. "Exactly. Doomed."

I shift him a little higher on my hip as we sneak across the living room. His tiny sneakers squeak against the hardwood, but he's trying to be quiet. It's adorable. We duck behind the massive fern in the corner, and he tries to hold his giggle in by biting his lip. My heart could explode.

I swear Aurora and Camille don't care that I've turned their son into my partner-in-crime. They're probably somewhere cuddling on the porch with iced coffees, not even asking where we went. Lia is outside playing with her cousins. My moms are at the beach house next door. It's just me and Ciro against the world. My world.

Harper's voice cuts through the room like a melody that somehow makes my entire spine straighten.

"Millie! Come on, we want strawberries!"

We.
She says that a lot now.

We want chocolate.
We want soda.
We want Doritos with peanut butter which is the weirdest combination in the whole world.
We want to watch Finding Nemo for the third time today.

I always give her what she wants. Them. I love spoiling them. Especially now. Because if you tell a very pregnant Harper no, she might cry. And if she cries, I cry. And if we're both crying, we're just standing in the kitchen crying over yogurt again like last week.

Harper waddles into the living room wearing one of my old hockey T-shirts. It barely covers her belly and rides up over her shorts. Her hair is a wild halo of messy waves, half-tied in a bun that's falling apart. Her face is flushed, and she's holding a popsicle stick like a weapon.

She looks like a goddess. An angry, hormonal, gorgeous goddess.

"I can see you, Bennett," she says, raising an eyebrow.