by Meader, Kate
“My grandmother wants to meet you.”
“Your grandmother?”
“I told her about you. Not about the baby, but just that I’d met this cool girl who was kind of interesting with her military background and smart mouth and fierce eyes hiding all these secrets.”
Shock at his description of her warred with annoyance at his jumping the gun. “But I can’t! What if I go the way that results in no-baby? How do I look her in the eye then?”
“I didn’t say you had to meet her. Just that I made you sound interesting enough for her to want to meet you. She’s kind of interesting herself—an artist, a creative type. Not like me, but more like you. You’d get along well and no matter what we—you—decide, you’ll still both be interesting people who would find each other equally interesting.”
No pressure, then. “I’m not creative.” What gave him that idea?
“Pretty creative in the sack. That move with your finger—”
“Theo. Could you stay on track?”
He shrugged and popped a piece of candy in his mouth. “We should see a doctor. Get you checked out. I know you’re sure but …”
“Worried I might be trying to pull one over on you? You should be suspicious.”
“I’m not worried. Unless you’ve been with someone else around the same time.”
“No one else.” At his smug look, she added, “Not that I haven’t had offers. That bar downstairs is brimming with offers.”
“Sure you have. But you’ve not gone there because you’re worried no one will match up to what I brought.”
“Your ego.”
He grinned. “Just kidding. But not really. Also, why are you so sure I’ll think this is a scam? You said that yesterday. A very cynical take, Sergeant Cupcake.”
“It’s Corporal Cupcake. Don’t you have tons of gold diggers trying to jump on board the Kershaw Caboose for a ride up the altar?”
“That’s just the nature of the fame and celebrity beast. Sure, I have to be careful but I don’t think you’re like that. Hell, you don’t even like me except for how good I can do you.”
Because he didn’t even look offended by this self-own, she decided to be offended on his behalf.
“You’re not just a pretty face, Kershaw.” She gestured at the stash he’d bought. “This is a nice thing you’ve done. A kind thing.” Too kind. He was being such a sweetheart and someone was going to tear him to shreds one day.
She had to make sure it wouldn’t be her.
His phone buzzed and he dragged it out of his pocket, his brow crumpling as he denied the call. “I’m late for morning skate.” He jumped up. “You working later?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in the bar.”
He looked thoughtful then seemed to change his mind about whatever he was going to say. “Let’s talk then. And if none of these make you feel better, we’ll think of the next solution. You’re not alone, Ellie.”
She nodded because if she spoke, she’d be unable to do so without sobbing.
11
Outside the Empty Net bar, Theo checked the text message he’d received while sitting on Elle’s sofa and gave it a long, hard stare.
This is Nick Isner. Got a second?
Bio-Dad was reaching out. Deliberately.
Theo was under no illusions that this was the dawn of a brave new world where Nick actually wanted his oldest son in his life. No, he could already see how this would go. Evidently terrified that his carefully-planned world might be crumbling around him, Daddy-O was conducting damage control after yesterday’s locker room visit from his wife and kid.
Theo wasn’t going to make it easy on him with a stilted text conversation. If Nick wanted him gone—again—he’d have to say it to him using his fucking words. He dialed the number.
“Hello, this is Nick Isner.”
“It’s Theo.”
His father cleared his throat. “Thanks for getting back to me. I want you to know that I had no part in planning that visit by my son yesterday.”
“Figured as much.”
Silence.
“Unless … did you know he entered that contest?”
This was where his mind had gone? “Right, it was a trap to get your kid into my orbit so he’d see what a great guy I am and somehow, I dunno, feel our brotherly connection.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s quite a coincidence.”
Theo wanted to smash the phone into tiny fragments. “Believe it or not, I actually pay people to manage my social media busywork like picking winners for contests. I had no fucking idea your son was a fan or had won that visit or even what his Instagram handle is. And by the way the recommended minimum age for Insta is thirteen so maybe you should keep a better eye on your kid’s social media use so he can’t enter contests to meet his long-lost secret brother!”
Jesus, Days of Our Lives couldn’t have scripted it better.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Nick sounded embarrassed. “Or thought that. It was just weird.”
“Is that all you wanted to say?”
A long beat passed before he said, “Things seem to be going well for you. Your season’s turning around.”
What the hell. “You want to talk … hockey?”
Nick cleared his throat. “Maybe we could get together and chat. About everything.”
“Are you kidding? What was it you said last time? ‘I’m just not sure what’s to be gained by raking all this up again after all these years.’ Those were your exact words.” That Theo remembered it verbatim—not fucking embarrassing at all.
“Theo, listen—”
“No, you listen. Aurora did a great job. Whatever money your family sent did the trick. I turned out just fine and you had zero to do with it.”
That would have been the perfect time to hang up, but Theo waited, hoping Nick would say the magic words—words Theo couldn’t even imagine existing—to make this better.
“Look, Theo, I’m not a bad person. I’ve never told my wife, my boys. I’d need some time to figure that out.”
My boys.
“You’ve got a lot to lose. I understand.” Nothing to gain, it seemed. A son who’d overcome tragedy and life-threatening injury. A son who was a success in his chosen profession and loved by millions. All these reasons and Theo still wasn’t good enough for Nick Isner.
Oh, and by the way, you’re going to be a grandpappy!
“Jason’s a big fan,” Nick said. “He was thrilled to meet you and your teammates.”
“Yeah, he seems like a good kid. Listen, I’ve got to go.”
“Oh, okay.” Christ, did this asshole actually sound disappointed? More likely, he wanted to control how the conversation ended. Like all politicians, he was clearly a sociopath. “Good luck in your next game.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Ten minutes later, he walked into the locker room ahead of morning skate, expecting that everyone would take one look and know what a bad boy he’d been. He’d left the bar by the side entrance last night, so the crew were still in the dark about why Levi had brought the Hunt Hammer down on Theo’s beautiful face.
“Superglutes,” Ford called out, grabbing everyone’s attention, “sounds like you got some ’splaining to do!”
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“But you’re not a gentleman,” Cade said. “At least if that dark look on Hunt’s face right now is anything to go by.”
Hunt stood at the door, thick arms crossed, his flinty eyes trained on Theo. “A word in your ear, Kershaw.”
“Need protection?” Erik offered.
Theo turned to Levi. “Do I?”
“Not this time. Out here.” Theo followed Levi into the corridor and found him outside a door to one of the exam rooms.
Get him alone. Cut him into tiny pieces. Stash him in the hot tub.
That’d be Theo’s preferred strategy if he were in Hunt’s skates. He walked inside and waited for Levi to shut them in and begin the dismemberment. Just more shi
t to add to his shitty day, except … seeing Elle was nice. He wished he’d given her a hug, though. She’d looked like she needed one, only he just wasn’t sure of the rules yet.
Hunt squinted, folded his arms, sniffed, unfolded his arms, and finally, grunted.
“How’s Elle? I assume you went over to see her this morning.”
And if he hadn’t? Thank the ghost of Gordie Howe that he’d gone there first thing. It had never occurred to him not to drop by. She was scared and she needed to know he had her back.
“She’s okay. I dropped off some stuff to help with the morning sickness. And I’m going to talk to Sadie about drawing up a nutrition plan.”
Hunt did a double take. “You’re planning to tell her what to eat?”
“Just recommendations. With a certain diet she might not feel so ill.”
“She won’t want to hear orders. It’s one thing when you’re getting paid to in the army, but a guy telling her what to do …” Levi shook his head in disbelief, and Theo took grave offense at the notion that Hunt had the inside track on Elle. Maybe he did, but he needn’t be such a know-it-all about it.
“About last night,” Hunt continued.
“Apology accepted.”
“I have no intention of apologizing, asshole. I was about to say that I don’t like this situation one bit so I’ll be keeping my eye on you. If you pressure her into a decision, a little boxing in a bar will be the least of your worries.”
After that call with Nick “Dad of the Year” Isner, Theo was a match strike away from a powder keg explosion.
“I have no intention of pressuring her. She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions. We’ve talked like adults, she knows that I’ll support her no matter which direction she goes in, so I’d appreciate if you got off my case and quit being such a fucking dick!”
Hunt’s expression barely changed, though that tick in his jaw fluttered like a tiny bug beneath his skin.
“Got an opinion either way on whether you want to be a daddy or not?”
Theo crossed his arms. “As if I’d tell you.”
That, of all things, made Hunt smile.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was hard on you and you haven’t crumbled. It sounds like you’re trying to do the right thing, so if you need my advice or assistance, I’m here for you, kid.” Hunt offered his hand.
Theo stared at it, then grasped it because he could do with all the friends he could get.
A quick nod from Hunt, and he turned to leave. That was it? So much for the friendly ear.
“I’m fucking terrified, man.”
“I know.” Hunt pivoted and waited for the typical Theo verbal vomit.
“If we were in a relationship and we’d planned it—”
“But you’re not and you didn’t.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
Levi’s hard blue eyes softened. “What’s your gut here?”
“I want this baby. I don’t want to force Elle to keep it but if I had a choice in the matter, I’d want to keep it.”
“Maybe tell her that.”
“And put pressure on her? No. I’m just telling you my first instinct here. Hell, she might decide bye-bye-baby and I’ll collapse in relief. But right now, at this moment in time, I feel like I’m being given this opportunity to do something momentous. Is that the word?”
“It’s a word.” Hunt smiled again, which was fucking creepy because Hunt never smiled. Falling in love had a lot to answer for. “A baby is a huge life change for everyone involved. It sounds like this might be not such a bad outcome for you except for the not being in an actual relationship with the mother part.”
“Yeah. That. She’s not interested in me at all, which kind of makes me think she’s going to go the other direction. She doesn’t want to get tied down or make connections.” He thought on it for a second. “Do you know anything about her people?”
Hunt squinted. “Her family’s from New York, which is part of the reason why we get along, me being from Jersey. There’s a sister but I don’t think they’re all that close. She went there for the holidays.”
“Not exactly.”
“Meaning?”
Theo wouldn’t normally be a tattle tale but this was important. If Elle didn’t have a good support network, they might need to help her create one here. “She said she was going but she didn’t leave. She stayed at your old place. Got the impression she didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her.”
This put Hunt on edge again. “And you were there to play Santa and deliver your dick in a box?”
Theo met his gaze levelly. “Not going to apologize for that. She’s a grown woman and you need to cut out the scary-dad-with-shotgun shit.”
That earned him another stare down, then finally: “Okay. You’re right.”
Theo took out his phone and pressed record. “Say that again.”
Hunt leaned over the phone and spoke into it, enunciating each word. “Fuck you, Superglutes.” But he was smiling as he said it.
* * *
Elle had never been to a live hockey game. Watching while pregnant was probably not the best way to pop her cherry but Jordan had invited her to sit in the press box, so she could at least get in and get out without Theo knowing.
As to why she wanted to hide this information from him, she wasn’t sure. She told herself it was because she was on a fact-finding mission. If she kept the baby and the daddy was playing this dumb game and getting pounded every night, then Elle needed to know what that felt like. What her child would feel if its father was in danger of being hurt.
Strange, perhaps, but she’d already started to think long-term about how this might actually work.
Theo shouldn’t have come by with his stupid sour patch candy but something had melted inside her when he produced it. Along with his research. And that cute dinosaur. He cared about this kid already.
The press box was something else and she liked that the view was from far away. She couldn’t make out Theo’s handsome face or clear green eyes or even his strong jaw. His ass, though—you could see that puppy from space.
“Want something to eat?”
Jordan gestured at the table of treats behind her, most of which Elle would be all over if she wasn’t feeling like an alien was zapping her life force.
“Not right now, thanks.” She really should eat something because she’d only chomped on a few crackers earlier. “Give me the sixty-second version of what I’m watching. I assume goals are important.”
Jordan’s face brightened, obviously in her element. “Goals are indeed important, my young padawan. Everything else comes second, goals are the thing.”
Jordan went on to explain who the players were, their positions, why some kind of bodily or stick contact was okay and some wasn’t. She half-listened while Theo did a decent impression of a human wall.
“So, is Kershaw considered … good at this?” She assumed he was because no one paid big bucks for mediocrity. Still, she’d like a professional opinion.
Jordan nodded. “He and Burnett are one of the most solid defensive lines in the league. Before Kershaw came on board, Burnett was holding down the fort—just—but since Theo was acquired, they’ve really gelled. I think they’re going to get to the playoffs and it’ll be because of that defense.”
“The playoffs are the big kahuna, right?”
“Well, half the teams qualify but there are three rounds of best-of-seven over a couple of months. Making the final round of that is the thing, but the Rebels have been off their game for the last few years. Getting to the playoffs would be a good step for them. Putting in a decent showing would be awesome, but I think Harper and Dante will be happy if they can make good use of this new blood and build on it for next year.”
Elle had done her research this morning. Harper Chase was CEO and the eldest Chase sister, one of the team’s co-owners along with her two half-sisters. Apparently a female-run team was a big deal. They’d inherited fr
om their father, a famous hockey-playing dickhead in his heyday, and managed to defy all expectations, winning the Cup in their first year out. As if the lady bosses weren’t enough to piss everyone off, they’d hired a gay guy—Dante Moretti—as general manager.
Elle liked the idea of Theo and Hunt working for such a progressive leadership, though she’d heard that players had little to no control over where they were traded. What if Theo was sent to another team? Was she expected to move so he could be close to his kid? Would he let her build a life separately from his?
“It’s a wonder he can focus with what’s going on in his personal life,” she muttered.
“Once they’re out there, they’re really good at shutting off everything else. It’s remarkable how tunnel-visioned they become.” Jordan smiled and leaned in close so the other reporters wouldn’t get a scoop. “Whatever decision you make, you don’t have to worry about it making his game dip.”
“I just—I just don’t want it to have any impact on our lives but that’s impossible, isn’t it?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “This is another human being we’re talking about. A helpless bundle of fucking joy that’s going to keep me up all night and turn my body into a wasteland.”
“Babies. Life, body, and vag-destroyers.”
“They are! Especially when you don’t plan for it. I’m not ready to settle down.”
Jordan squeezed her arm. “You don’t want the husband, the kids, the picket fence?”
Coming from her family? God, no. She’d just be creating a meal ticket they could use for their nefarious purposes.
“I haven’t had great role models.”
“Parents divorced?”
If only. The world would be safer. “No. Just not the kind of people I’d want my kid to be around.”
Jordan looked sympathetic but didn’t press. Bad reporter, better friend. “Doesn’t mean you can’t want good things for yourself. A good guy. A good life. Why not with Theo? Is he too nice? Too goofy? Too good in bed?”
“All of the above. And not my type—for a long-term thing.” Not that anyone was, but she tended to gravitate toward men with a similar worldview to her own: realistic, sharp, cynical. “He’s so fresh-faced and pure.”