Bet On It: An Age Gap Billionaire Office Romance(73)

I opened it up to find three more onesies in pastel colors, each with a number on the back from two to four.

I looked up at him, wondering if this meant what I thought it did.

He laughed. "We have four extra bedrooms in the house. I think we should fill it with our own little hockey team."

Tears of joy and happiness filled my eyes. "Can we get through number one first?"

His arms wrapped around me and his lips nuzzled against my neck. "Absolutely. I love you, Analyn." His lips captured mine and he kissed me.

My stomach cramped hard, and I gasped as I stepped back and a rush of liquid splashed on the floor.

Reed jumped back. "Oh, shit. Did I do that? Did I hurt you?"

I reached out, gripping his arms. "Reed, I think the baby is coming."

Reed grabbed his keys and his coat and ran out the door. I did my best to follow, but a contraction hit, and I had to stand for a moment to catch my breath.

He came rushing back into the room. "Analyn. We've gotta go."

I smiled despite the pain, realizing I had one of those husbands who was going to make our baby’s birthday story humorous.

He finally got me to the car and then to the hospital. Six hours later, we were holding a baby boy in our arms.

"He's so beautiful, Analyn." The reverence in Reed's voice matched what I was feeling as I looked down into the sweet little face of my son.

Reed's hand cupped my cheek. "I had nearly given up hope on ever finding a woman I could love, who would love me and would want a family. And then one day, you walked in and picked me up at the bar. I am so fucking thankful for that."

"I am too. It's amazing what a little bravery and daring can get you in life."

He nodded. "All the gambles paid off."

"Absolutely."

He leaned in and kissed me. "You know, we haven't come up with a name for this little guy."

"We could call him Buckaroo."

Reed laughed.

"Or how about Puck? Slapshot?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "I think we should stick with gambling names. Roulette? Keno?"

I laughed. "Blackjack?"

We both stopped and stared at each other.

"Jack," we said at the same time.

"Jack, it is." Reed bent over, kissing baby Jack on the head, and then kissed me again. "Thank you for taking a gamble on me, Analyn."

Life came with ups and downs, but I knew with Reed, I’d always have a man who loved, respected, and cherished me. You could bet on it.





EXTENDED EPILOGUE





Bo Tyler





“Jump, jump, jump.”

I stood on the roof of a low-rate Las Vegas motel overlooking groupies and hang-oners around the pool. I was drunk and buck naked. Yep, my cock was blowin’ in the wind. I was on top of the world. The hockey season was set to start in two months, and I knew this year we’d make it to the Stanley Cup. We’d fucking win it, too. Women worshiped me. Men wanted to be me.

Little did they know, I was a fraud.

“Come on, Bo, get your naked ass down here. I want to see your cock up front and personal.”

That came from the brunette in the white bikini . . . or was it the blonde in the red bikini? Hell, maybe it was the guy in the Speedo. Dudes loved me too.

I held my beer can up in salute to them. “Gotta finish my beer first. It would be a waste to waste it.”

“Talk about wasted.”

I was wasted. But even wasted, I felt empty. Why did I bother drinking? Or carousing? Or getting into mischief, as my mama called it? It never worked to fill the emptiness.

A shrink would have a field day with me. But I never went to one because I didn’t need a therapist to tell me that I was drowning in booze and women because I was also drowning in guilt.

Everyone saw me as a boyish country boy who could play hockey like no one’s business. They found my antics charming. My team’s owners and manager liked how they filled the seats at the rink. Only my coach cared that I was one step away from self-destruction, but if I didn’t care, why should he?

I knew the truth about me. I was the worst person possible. Ten years ago, I was responsible for my best friend’s death. And then I fucked his girlfriend.

My stomach roiled, and I nearly hurled the contents of my booze-filled gut over the edge. That would surely clear out the fans who even now, knowing I was drunk, were encouraging me to jump off a roof and filming it for their TikTok and Instagram accounts. They didn’t give a shit about me. But that was okay. I didn’t give a shit about me, either.

“Jump, jump, jump.”

I finished my beer, crushing the can and tossing it in the bushes. In the distance of the Las Vegas desert, I heard sirens. No doubt, someone called the cops. I wondered if Officer Henderson was on tonight. He was always gentle with the handcuffs.

“Are you ready?” I called down.

“Yes!”

I stood at the edge of the roof, holding my hands out and waggling my hips, making my dick flap.

And then I jumped.

I had a vague feeling of stinging as my body penetrated the water. My first thought was I didn’t miss. But then I felt like I’d hit a wall and something inside my body popped.

I managed to stand up, only then realizing I’d landed closer to the shallow end and had hit the floor of the pool.