Baby Daddies: Puck Buddies Series

by Tara Brown

  “That’s their business. I didn’t want to get involved. You shouldn’t either.”

  “Whatever.” It’s impossible to explain the workings of girls and their friends. “I’m going to go console my friend and eat chocolate cake right from the pan. I suggest while I’m gone, you try to find the paintball guns I’ve hidden, because you’re getting hunted when I get back.”

  “You’re seriously pissed I didn’t tell you? Or is this those mood swings the doctors were talking about?”

  “Mood swings?” It was the wrong thing to say. “You know what, Lori? I’m annoyed that you knew he was going to break things off and you didn’t give me a heads up.”

  “I knew this would become a thing. I was trying to avoid it.”

  “Well done.” I pat him on the chest and slide by him when the door opens. I’m irritated as I leave the lobby.

  The subway to Brooklyn isn’t long but it’s packed. And as per the usual now, I’m a sweaty mess by the time I arrive at Sukii’s building, with cake and chocolates and chips all in hand. I honestly can’t wait for this summer to be over.

  She answers the door to the apartment still crying.

  “Hey!” I put the food down and wrap myself around her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I should have known! You tried to warn me about them. And I didn’t listen.” She pushes me off and grabs some chocolate-stuffed licorice and begins pacing as she tears into the packaging. “You told me to take it slow. Not get too attached. Be smart. And I thought you were being a dick. I’m an idiot!” She takes a bite but cries while chewing. “I really liked him.”

  “What did he say? Did you guys fight?” I open the chocolate cake and grab some forks, handing her one as she passes me in her pacing.

  “No, everything was fine. We had a great dinner and awesome sex and then he left to play poker at Lori’s. He didn’t come back here after that.” She pauses, holding the licorice and giving me a bewildered stare. “It was the first time we didn’t sleep together since we met. So, at like two in the morning I texted to make sure he was okay. I was worried.”

  “Right.”

  “This morning, he replied, hours after he normally wakes up. He told me that messaging him when I knew he was out with his friends was clingy and I was being too needy and we needed to talk.”

  “You checking on him after he goes randomly MIA is needy?” What a sack of shit. “God, I hate men.”

  “I know, me too.”

  “So you guys met this afternoon?”

  “Yeah. He asked if we could meet in the park, which was weird. It’s so far from my place. I had to ride the subway in and walk across the park to meet him right next to his building. Like he couldn’t even meet me halfway?”

  “That is unlike him.” My stomach hurts as a forlorn expression washes over her, freezing her in place again.

  “That’s what I thought too. But when I got there, he was so cold. He told me he thought this was a fling, nothing more. And he wasn’t ready for a relationship. I stared at him like a moron because I honestly had no idea that’s how he felt.” She closes her eyes, squeezing as tears stream her cheeks. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “You are not an idiot.” I rush her, hugging her again. I struggle to swallow the bite of cake in my mouth as I speak, “I saw him, he was into you. Whatever happened in the last couple of days, you did nothing wrong. He invited you to a wedding for God’s sake. Who invites a fling to a wedding? Who spends the night at a fling’s house every single day of the week?”

  “I guess he does,” she answers weakly and sighs.

  “Then he’s an asshole and not worth your time or my friendship.” I hug tighter.

  “Thanks.” She nods and pulls free, walking back to the snacks, changing gears. “Speaking of assholes, what did Stan say?”

  “He wants me to come back, full-time. I explained my situation and he was fine with it. He said I would have to work from home part-time after the baby is born for the first year, which I agreed to. If I take it, I’m starting as the junior exec in the beauty department, in line to take over when the senior position comes available. I’m giving him my answer on Friday of next week and start when I get back from my dad’s birthday party.”

  “That’s awesome news.” She tries to muster excitement for me.

  “He apologized for everything and offered me the apartment again.” I furrow my brow, confused about the whole thing. “He said an apartment is a common perk for executives.”

  “You need to take it, Jenny. It’s two bedrooms and it’s close enough to Lori that you guys can co-parent. You’d be stupid not to take it.” She takes a bite of cake and chews slowly. “You were right, you can’t trust hockey players. You don’t want to end up like me, but with a kid.”

  Her words are knives in my stomach.

  “I’m still reading over the contract.” I smile and change the subject, “Wanna watch a movie?”

  “Okay. Jane Austen.”

  “Persuasion?” I suggest, fully aware of the level of angst and heartbreak she is needing.

  “Yeah, I could go for some Captain Wentworth and understanding Anne Elliot’s pain.” She lifts the entire cake and walks to the sofa. I bring everything else.

  We snuggle in and start the movie. She cries at odd moments and laughs at painful ones. Her eyes are glossy the whole movie, lingering on the verge of tears which she cries at the end.

  By the time I leave, she’s exhausted enough that I think she might sleep. Though I’m not sure I will after eating so much junk.

  When I step out into the night air, my own doubts and fears are plaguing me. But there’s no time to contemplate them because he’s there. His car is parked across the road and he’s leaning against the driver door, watching me. For a second I’m sure I’m hallucinating but he’s real.

  “Did you follow me? How do you know where Sukii lives? How long have you been here?” I stop and shout, not crossing the road to him.

  “Are you taking the job and the apartment?” He ignores me and instead asks the question of the hour. I don’t bother asking how he knows.

  “I don’t know.” It’s the truth.

  “Do you want to?”

  “I think I should,” I admit. “That way we can slow things down and date without the pressure of the baby being so consuming.”

  “Okay,” he offers what I assume is his permission. It makes me smile at how controlling he is.

  “Can I offer you a ride home or is Stan sending a car for you?”

  “Sure.” I laugh bitterly as I cross the street to him. He opens my door, not assaulting me with kisses and smelling me as I climb in, suggesting the conversation over my moving into the apartment and taking the job isn’t over.

  When he climbs in, he’s quiet, but I’m not. I want answers. “When did Cap decide to break up with her?”

  “Why?” He stares straight ahead at the road as he starts the car and drives away from the curb.

  “Because everything was fine until he came to your house and played poker.”

  “What?” He glances at me quickly. “I told you, this is their business. Not ours.”

  “Were you part of the conversation to convince him to break up with her?”

  He presses his lips into a tight line.

  “I see. So you can talk to him about breaking up with her, but you can’t warn me about it?”

  “You want to move into Stan’s apartment again, and you can’t talk to me about that?” He fires back with a serious shot.

  “I was going to talk to you about it. I was going to bring it up tonight but then Sukii called. She’s my friend, of course I had to go.”

  “And he’s mine. And my teammate. I don’t want this to be our issue.” He turns to me again. “And you need to leave their issues for them to sort out. We have enough shit going on, we don’t need to add to it. And before you go thinking things, you should know Cap’s still in love with his ex-wife. So while this might suck today, it’s way better for Sukii t
hat it ends.”

  The narrative in my mind switches.

  “What? He is? How do you know?”

  “Because I know him well enough to be able to tell. He thought this thing with Sukii was fun. He’s an idiot,” he grumbles and changes the subject to one he doesn’t want to discuss either. “So are we still going to Vancouver on Monday or do you have to work now?”

  “We’re still going. I don’t have to give Stan an answer until Friday,” I murmur and look out the window, also avoiding the subject. The idea of visiting his family, introducing him to mine, and moving for the millionth time in three months is too much to add to my upset stomach.

  24

  Meet the chef

  Monday, August 21

  Lori

  Jenny’s quiet on the plane ride to Vancouver. We’ve barely said two words since we left the city. She hasn’t given her acceptance of the job and apartment to Stan yet, as far as I know, so I assume she’s stewing on that.

  She stares out the window of the jet, watching the clouds and nothingness.

  It’s rotting my insides but I don’t know what to say or do to make this better.

  My mind is reeling with possibilities for how this will work out.

  The option I like the most is the one where she stays with me, we share the pregnancy, fall further in love, and figure out who we are in this relationship before the baby is born. Which means she can’t work and would be at my beckon call. It’s a selfish thing to ask of her but with my hectic schedule, if she doesn’t conform to me, we won’t see each other enough to fully give this a chance.

  The outcome I’m most afraid of, but also certain will be the one that happens, is her taking the job and moving out and wanting space. That ends with me rarely seeing her or the baby belly or experiencing the pregnancy firsthand. The books I’ve read suggest spending as much time as you can with the fetus to create a bond. With hockey season starting up soon, my time will be limited as it is. But how can I tell her that my job is more important than hers.

  The emotion of the decision is exaggerated by Cap and Sukii breaking up. I can literally see her comparing our lives to theirs.

  “We’re starting descent in two minutes,” Loraine, the co-pilot, says as she pokes her head around the corner.

  “Okay, thanks.” I glance at Jenny. “Excited to be back in BC?”

  “Not in August,” she says flatly. “Not much worse than Raincouver in August.”

  “Forecast said it will be sunny,” I offer with a slight grin, fully aware of the likelihood of the forecast being accurate.

  She laughs and I sigh at hearing the sound. It’s the first time in days she’s laughed like that. Maybe a week. I lean in and brush my lips against hers, pausing to soak up as much of her as I can. She does the same, leaning into the kiss.

  The plane starts to descend and she inhales sharply. I open my eyes to see her mouth twist as she shakes her head back and forth in tiny twitches.

  Her eyes widen and sweat bursts from her pores. She’s about to puke.

  I undo my seatbelt and jump up. I stagger but manage to grab the trash can at the front of the plane and dive back to her, placing it under her face as she unleashes everything she ever ate in her entire life into it. She’s crying and gagging and heaving and puking and the smell is making my stomach tighten. The jet is jostling me as we come into windy Vancouver, but I refuse to lose my grip on the bucket as she is doing her best to fill the damned thing.

  I swear it’s minutes, maybe hours, probably seconds, before she stops. There’s nothing left. She’s dry heaving and the sound is cutting through me. A nauseated chill hits me but I fight it.

  “Oh my God—” she manages to say as the heaving keeps going.

  The weight of the trash can is aggressive. It’s so much throw up. With my free hand, I manage to get a puke bag from the wall pocket near us. I hand it to her and stand, fighting the force of the jet, and run for the bathroom. It’s not easy to keep my balance, hold the can still, and get the bathroom door open.

  I have visions of not getting it open and the jet landing and the trash can flying all over the plane as I struggle with the door. I just have it open as the engines roar. I flip back the toilet lid and dump, flushing at the same time. As it flushes, I tuck the can next to the toilet and step out, closing the door.

  The jet lands with a bump, forcing me to grab the railing on the wall. It takes all my strength not to fall over or be flung back.

  The can is flying around the bathroom, hitting things and no doubt flinging vomit about the room.

  For the second time in a week, I’ll have to explain to the cleaning crew that the bathroom needs an overhaul.

  Jenny turns, she’s pale and visibly upset. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I lie. I don’t feel okay and I can tell she’s as far from okay as she can get. When the jet slows, I hurry to her.

  She gasps her breath and starts to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No. It’s not your fault.” I wrap myself around her and hold her to me. “Does the baby feel okay?”

  She tenses and pulls back, her breathing slowing down. “I don’t know.” She stares at me, terror in her eyes.

  We are locked on each other for a whole minute until the plane comes to a stop.

  She shudders. “Can we not fly ever again?”

  I can’t make that promise but I will be speaking to the pilots about flying softer while she’s pregnant. “Come on.” I lift her up and hold her to me. “That was terrifying. I thought you were going to throw up on me.” I carry her off the jet as she chuckles but it’s weak.

  “Me too.”

  It takes forever to get there but by the time we’re at the car, she has color in her cheeks again. She takes a drink of water and sighs. “It came out of nowhere and I couldn’t stop it.”

  “I saw.” I laugh and climb in the limo, greeting the driver who I don’t know. He’s one of the fleet.

  She snuggles into me, smelling like sour cherries but I don’t care. She scared the hell out of me. Holding her is all I need right now.

  When we arrive at my parents’, she’s a little green again.

  “Come on. Grace will know what to get you.” I climb out and lift her with me.

  “Mr. Eckelston! Is she all right?” Bert, our butler, comes rushing up to us from the front door.

  “She’s queasy, Bert.”

  Jenny shudders again and smiles through it. “Hi.”

  “This is Bert, our head of house, and this is Jenny Snowdon, the reason I left so abruptly last time.”

  “Ah yes. Of course, sir. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Snowdon.”

  “Jenny, please.” She holds out a freshly sanitized hand and he takes it, offering a gentle shake.

  “Let’s get you inside, Miss Snowdon. Grace will want to tend to this illness. She’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Bert takes Jenny’s arm in his and escorts her to the door. I should be nervous but instead, I’m excited for her to meet Grace.

  I grin and walk up to the door and follow Bert into the house.

  “Lawrence?” Grace shouts my name as I enter the kitchen. “We didn’t know you were bringing someone!”

  “I’ll leave you in Grace’s capable hands. Feel better, miss,” Bert says, fleeing as Grace comes around the counter, hands on her hips and temper on high.

  “Grace, this is Jenny Snowdon,” I add something to my tone so she understands how important she is.

  “And what’s wrong with her?” Grace snaps.

  “Nausea. Motion sickness.”

  “We’ll need some ginger tea.” Grace walks back around the counter as Jenny sits at the bar in my favorite seat.

  “Oh, please don’t bother. I’m sure it’s nothing. It’ll go away in no time.” Jenny tries to wave her off but Grace is a hawk.

  She narrows her gaze on Jenny, inspecting. It takes her a minute before her eyes widen and she gasps. “Lawrence!”

  “Yeah,” I c
onfirm without saying it.

  Jenny is too uncomfortable to realize what’s happening.

  “You need to lie down, my dear. Ginger tea will not settle this. Only a nap will save you.” Grace’s evil eyes are on me. She wants Jenny gone and for me to come back. I understand this from just the look.

  “Okay. I think you’re right, I do feel tired,” Jenny agrees and stands.

  “I’ll show you to my room.” I help Jenny up the servants’ stairs and across the second floor to the wing where my room is. It’s weird bringing her here. I’ve had a lot of girls in my room over the years, but she’s the first one I feel something for. “Here, climb in.” I pull back the covers and help her lie down. She snuggles in and I tuck her in with the thick comforter.

  She closes her eyes and sighs. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

  “Stop being sorry. You didn’t do anything.” I kneel next to her and place my hand on her stomach. “It’s just some morning sickness that’s all messed up from the time change.”

  She smiles but it doesn’t last. She’s exhausted. I kiss her forehead once and stand, walking to the curtains to draw them all so the room is nice and dark.

  I close the door softly and hurry back downstairs.

  “How could you?” Grace gasps. “Why would you bring her here like that? They’ll eat her alive.”

  “Then they’ll never see me again,” I say flatly as I take my seat.

  “How far is she?”

  “Over a month. It was not planned.”

  “You’re certain it’s yours?”

  “Yeah.” I crack a grin. “If you knew her, you wouldn’t ask.” I raise my eyebrows. “She’s different from us. Very proud and stubborn. She doesn’t take help or handouts or anything.”

  “Why did you bring her here?” She’s angry but starts fixing us a charcuterie and a pitcher of gin and raspberry smash to share.

  “Because all of Greenwich was at Nat and Brady’s wedding when Jenny covered for Nat by outing herself for being pregnant with my child.” The sentence is almost a tongue twister.