Chapter 42

Mia first saw the ocean as the jet touched down in Malibu. The sparkling blue stretched endlessly beneath the plane's wing, and as the wheels kissed the tarmac, she reached over and laced her fingers with Max's. He turned to her, sun-kissed and smiling.

"Back to real life," she said with a mock sigh.

Max grinned. "If real life means you, Rowan, and football season—I'll take it."

Their return home was quiet. Frank and Charlotte greeted them at the gate with Rowan in their arms, a sleepy little bundle dressed in a onesie that read "Mom & Dad's MVP." Mia scooped her up immediately, holding her close, the missing piece of her heart settling back into place.

The next few weeks fell into a rhythm. Max jumped into training camp, spending long days on the field while Mia stayed home, balancing baby naps and designing the nursery in their Malibu house with new colors and softer lighting. They hosted family dinners, beachside brunches, and lazy Sundays that ended with sandy footprints across the hardwood floors and a baby asleep on Max's chest.

But the season hit like a storm.

Max was sharper than ever, focused and steady. Jeremy, his younger brother and teammate, had come into his own on the defensive line. Together, they were unstoppable—grit, blood, and brotherhood. Their team tore through the regular season, week after week, until only one game was left: The Super Bowl.

It was a gritty, brutal battle—two defensive juggernauts holding the line, neither willing to break. But in the fourth quarter, Max delivered a game-changing sack, and Jeremy forced a fumble that sealed their victory. Confetti rained down, the stadium thundered, and the two brothers, arm in arm, lifted the trophy in a moment that would live in highlight reels forever.

Back in the locker room, champagne popping and cameras flashing, Mia found Max standing off to the side, still in full pads, holding his daughter in one arm. He looked up, eyes shining, and she walked straight to him.

"I have something to tell you," she whispered in his ear loud enough to be heard over the chaos.

Max pulled back slightly, brows raised.

She took his free hand and placed it gently over her belly. "We're having another."

For a moment, time stopped.

Max blinked. "Are you serious?"

Mia nodded, eyes misting.

A smile broke across his face—broad, boyish, and full of awe. "Another?" he repeated, then kissed her hard, laughing through it. "We're doing this again?"

Jeremy caught the look on his brother's face and jogged over, shouting, "What? What happened?"

Max held up two fingers with a grin. "Kid number two's on the way."

The team erupted into fresh cheers.

Later that night, Max sat down in front of a wall of reporters and flashing lights at the press conference. Still soaked in sweat and celebration, he leaned into the microphone and said, "I've spent my whole life chasing this moment. And now that I have it, I know what's next. I'm retiring. I've got everything I ever wanted waiting at home. And one more on the way."

A month later, with boxes packed and the ocean in their rearview, Mia and Max returned to Oklahoma.

Their new home wasn't grand, but it was wide open and peaceful—rolling hills, long porches, and room for two kids to grow up chasing fireflies. Jessie had already claimed Max for ranch work, and the mornings quickly became filled with early feedings, riding lessons, and fence repairs.

Max took to it easily, trading helmets for cowboy hats, locker rooms for hay barns. He wasn't just helping; he was learning. He worked beside Jessie, hand in hand with Mia's family, and found something more profound than adrenaline: purpose.

Mia watched him one morning from the kitchen window, Rowan on her hip, a mug of tea in her hand. Max was out by the paddock, coaxing a stubborn colt toward the gate, laughing when it refused to budge. Jessie shouted something from the barn, and Max answered with a wave and shook his head.

Rowan babbled in her arms, and Mia smiled.

This was their life now—quiet, steady, full.

Max lay beside her under the covers that night, a cool breeze drifting through the window. His hand rested on her belly, their second child growing day by day.

"You miss the game?" Mia asked softly.

He paused, then kissed her shoulder. "Sometimes. But this? You, our kids, the ranch... It's a whole new kind of dream."

Mia turned toward him, her hand finding his. "Welcome home, cowboy."

And as the crickets chirped and the wind rolled through the tall Oklahoma grass, they drifted off together, content, ready for the next beautiful chapter.