by Stacey Lynn
Mikah’s already pale face turns whiter. I laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully.
“I’m kidding, but he’s a small-town guy with small-town morals, you know? He thinks there’s a way to do things and getting pregnant outside of marriage wouldn’t be one of them. But I don’t know…” I trail off, considering. I can see my father’s disappointment in his eyes, my mom’s fear. And then I see their hugs and feel their warmth and my eyes burn from it.
“They’d be shocked and disappointed,” I admit. “I think all parents would. But they’re good people and they love me. As soon as the news settled, they’d hug me and help me in any way they could.”
“You come from good people.”
“You might not think you do, but you’re one of the best I’ve met, Mikah. Not many men would take a baby into their home, trusting it’s theirs and doing everything you’ve done to give him a stable and loving home.”
“I want to be better than my own father.”
“You will.” I have no doubts.
I cover his hand with mine on the stroller and we keep walking, connected and close. I never would have imagined being my age, so young, and dating a man with a child, but there’s something so beautiful and right about every moment I’ve had with Mikah and Angelo, I stop questioning it.
I like this guy a lot. And I’ll do whatever I need to help him find his footing, as well as grow closer to him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Paisley
* * *
Katie wasn’t joking when she said Jude lived in an enormous palace. No wonder why she knows where all the best antique and home furnishings stores are. She has to have been decorating the inside since she moved in last winter.
The home is massive, the gate at the neighborhood was my first clue but I’m still surprised by the elegance and size of Jude’s home as Mikah pulls his car into the long drive that has a turnaround near the front door. It’s currently lined and packed with vehicles for manufacturers I can only ever dream of affording. I’m not even sure why this money surprises me. They’re professional athletes, after all. But there’s something different about knowing they have money and seeing it.
It’s so far outside what I’m used to nerves assault me.
Next to me, there’s a man holding my hand, squeezing it gently and behind me, there’s a beautiful, little boy, babbling happily in his car seat.
And how did showing up like a happy little family become my life? And is it stranger that bothers me less than all this money?
“This is pretty much the perfect place to hold a team party.” There has to be thirty cars out front and there’s still space for more. The yard is massive, and I haven’t seen the backyard.
“Pool and ball courts in the back. We can all show up and be big kids. Plus the kids can run wild, too.”
“Does the whole team usually come?”
“Not all, but most. Some of the single guys miss because, well, it’s family friendly. I didn’t come last year, I don’t think.”
For a brief second I consider asking him why this year, but I’m not sure that’s needed. Angelo in the back seat makes this more of Mikah’s speed these days and I’m sure once we step through those doors, someone will swoop in and grab him and Mikah will get a break from daddy-duty for a few hours. Something he probably needs.
We’ve spent most of the weekend together when I haven’t been on campus or at my place catching up on laundry and cleaning. But those times have mostly revolved around Angelo, and it should. I’m not complaining.
But we also haven’t had any “alone” time like we did on Friday and even in the times where we could, Mikah didn’t press for anything after the make-out session on Saturday morning in his bed. I’m not pushing for it. I’m not certain if he needs or wants more time before taking things further, and I don’t need more affection to know he likes me.
He’s teased and implied he wants more, but he hasn’t taken us there. Unless he’s waiting for a clue from me.
He pulls his SUV to a stop, sparkling black Land Rover that’s so clean inside and out and still has a lingering smell of eau de new vehicle scent, it makes me curious how old it is. I’ve learned Mikah is particularly clean and neat, so perhaps he’s had it for years and it still smells new.
Whichever. I open my door and climb out, then open the back door on the passenger side so I can grab Angelo’s car seat from his base. It’s easier to grab him than wait for Mikah and by the time he reaches us, Angelo is in his car seat, the plastic handle over my forearm and I have his diaper bag, something that’s possibly four sizes too large and stuffed full like we’re on a weekend getaway over my shoulder.
“I’ll take him,” Mikah says, reaching out.
“I don’t mind.” I already have him.
“You do too much already.” He divests me of the car seat and the diaper bag with ease and for a moment, he looks so damn sexy holding his baby with the diaper bag on his shoulder, I gape at him.
“You’re really hot.” Yep. I say it. Who knows what happens to my filter sometimes around him.
He gives me a look part amused, perhaps slightly turned on. “I could say the same about you.”
He looks down at my feet, toes freshly painted in a bright turquoise color that matches the swimsuit I have on beneath my coverup with a bright floral pattern all over. The coverup is modest, the bikini beneath is absolutely not, and I almost feel bad knowing I’m going to end up spending the next several hours teasing Mikah relentlessly with my sexy swimsuit.
Perhaps it’ll be the jump he needs to move things forward between us.
A girl can hope. Or at least, this girl can.
As for Mikah, he’s dressed in bright blue swim trunks with large and hideous bright green flowers on them. He looks ridiculous, and yet sexy, because he’s clearly bought them for the fun of it. On his top, he has a plain white T-shirt on and as soon as I saw him my first thought, “I hope there’s a wet t-shirt contest later today.”
Boys only, of course.
And really, it would be a good idea. Perhaps the team could do it for a fundraiser of sorts. All the hot hockey players hosing down their shirts to the pleasure of women. So much more fun that watching women do it.
At least for me, but I suppose to each their own with what view they’d find more gorgeous.
“You ready?”
While I’ve been ogling him, he’s stepped to my side, draped his arm behind me and placed his hand at my back.
“As I’ll ever be.” I’m thankful I met his teammates before otherwise this would be incredibly intimidating. As it is, Katie’s already texted me letting me know she’s excited to see me and I know Hannah will be here too.
Before we reach the elegant double-door front entry surrounded by luscious plants blooming brightly, and bushes looking perfectly trimmed, the raucous sound of children and men and families inside filters out.
There are a lot of people here. Most of whom I haven’t met, and they will all know me as Mikah’s date.
I don’t want to disappoint him or make a bad impression.
Perhaps my sexy and strappy bikini meant to titillate Mikah is too much. The last thing I want people thinking is I’m some puck bunny. And women can sometimes be worse than men in their judgments. My steps falter on the brick stairs we’re headed up and Mikah stops, juggles Angelo in his car seat.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” I’m staring at the door. Nerves are making my stomach roll. I’m being silly. Who cares what people think.
But oh God. What if this gets out on social media?
Yeah, the bikini might be too much. It’s not the most risqué thing in the world, but definitely sassier than I usually wear.
“Um. I think I’m nervous.”
Mikah’s hand is still at my back, fingers digging in, calloused finger pads that feel delicious on my skin scraping along the cover up.
“What are you nervous about?”
“Well, besides wanting
your friends to like me, I think maybe I should have chosen a different suit.”
At my shoulder I have a swim bag packed with our towels and sunscreen and a few bottles of water. I also have an outfit to change into later. Maybe I’ll just throw them on now and forgo the bikini altogether.
“Why?”
His brows are pulled in, lines dig into his forehead between them.
“Um. Nothing.” I’ll simply go use the restroom when I get inside. Change my outfit and stay out of the pool. Who cares that it’s going to be well over a hundred degrees today and there’s no end to the summer heat in sight yet. “Never mind.”
I take a step toward the door and he grabs my hand, tugging on me so I have to spin around or lose my balance.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, it’s just… my suit is well, sexy, and I want to make a good impression on your friends.”
To my utter and complete shock, he sets down Angelo’s car seat, double-checks to make sure the sun isn’t in his face and still pulls the visor on the car seat down further. Then he drops the diaper bag.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Show me.”
“What?” My eyes dart toward the house. The blinds are closed, but anyone could leave. Or arrive. And he wants me to do what? Rip off my cover-up?
“Show me the swimsuit. I’ve been thinking of this since Saturday when you said you’d come. I want to see you in a bikini.” His lips twitch. Those Caribbean blue eyes of his smolder. “Mostly I want to see you in nothing, but the bikini will work.”
Oh. Well. Wow. He’s so sweet and kind. His bossy sexiness always throws me. Comes out of nowhere. And now there’s an area of my bikini bottoms growing warm. Wet.
Great.
“Mikah.”
“Let me see, Paisley. If you won’t show the rest of them, do not deprive it from me.”
And well, hey. I mean, I wore it for him anyway. Slowly, I lift my cover-up. It’s loose and comes to my knees with a deep V-neck and wide, loose arms. It fits like the softest and lightest robe, almost a Mumu. I still love it.
“Tell me if I should change, okay? And be honest.”
His gaze is fixed on my stomach area, stormy eyes holding the area and I see a flash of something darker, something that makes me hotter and it’s not the obscene heat it’s the obscene look on his face as I lift the cover-up and pull it over my head. My braid that’s been draped over my shoulder flips to the back and itches my spine as it falls.
I barely notice.
Mikah’s hands now dig into his hips. His jaw clenched tight. Gaze slowly but so intently roaming over my body, I feel it like a scrape against my sensitive skin.
“Mikah—”
I can barely breathe his name. The way he’s looking at me is so… much.
“Later,” he says, and his voice has gone low, difficult to understand with the accent and the look on his face. “Later when I take you to bed, we will start with you in that and then I will enjoy stripping it off you.”
My knees shake. “It’s too much.”
“It is perfect. And sexy. And I will feel much honor if you wear that with me next to you.” He finally meets my gaze again and that twinkle in his eye I love so much returns. “I will feel other things too, but perhaps we can finally take care of that tonight, too.”
“Oh.” He means him. Every time I’ve gone to touch him, he’s stopped me. Said later. “Does this mean it’s time for later?” I ask, lingering on the word, letting him know what I’m implying.
“Yes. Tonight is later.”
Yippee. “And the suit?” It’s a bikini but not. Dozens of thin turquoise straps criss-cross over and across my stomach and my back. The sides are open, almost making it look like I’m tied and strapped inside silk and satin. It’s evocative.
It reminded me of Mikah’s eyes when I saw it online and rush shipped it.
“Everything you wear is perfect. Sexy. I like it.” He bends down and grabs the car seat. “Are you ready now?”
I mean, it’s possible I’m ready to ditch the party all together and get to later now, but I’m pretty certain that’s not what he means.
“Sure, Mikah.” I throw on the cover-up, wait while he grabs the diaper bag. I pick up the bag with our towels and outside supplies and he throws the door open.
As soon as we step inside, his teammates who I swear huddle together in anticipation of Mikah preparing to enter the room, all throw their heads back, and shout, “Let’s Go!”
Mikah grins down at me, pink hitting the tops of his ears. “I really hate that.”
I laugh, shake my head, and shove him inside with my hand now at his back. “I don’t think you mean that, superstar.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mikah
* * *
“Your girl is something else.”
My girl. I like the way that every man here knows Paisley came with me. She isn’t stealing the show, putting on an act, but she still seems to draw people to her with a natural grace I have been almost drooling over since the day I met her.
Jason, my teammate currently grinning at her, is the one who I owe a lot of it to.
I clink my glass of water to his. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. Anytime you need help from the master come to me.”
I grin into my glass of water, forcing myself to tear my eyes from Paisley. As soon as we entered, the women swooped in and took Angelo from me, fawning over him like so many women tend to do. Paisley was swept up with them and even though I wanted to see more of her bikini, and more of her out of it, I drifted off to the guys.
I have barely spoken more than four words to her since we arrived hours ago, but there will be time for that later.
“What are you losers sitting out here talking about?” Jude asks, sauntering up to us and slapping his brother on the shoulder. Their family is the best. Both guys are cool to hang out with. I went a little starstruck when I met their dad, John Senior, former New York hockey player, a man I grew up idolizing and wanting to be like.
When I first was drafted to the Ice Kings, I was sure his sons would be full of ego and arrogance, but they are good guys.
“Paisley,” I admit, and I do not care. “And I was thanking Jason for helping me get her.”
Jude’s brows jump. “You took my brother’s advice? And it worked?”
“Shove off baby Jude. I have mad game.”
“Yeah with girls for a night or two, not long-lasting ones.”
Jason makes a face that says he wants to punch his brother, but he is full of crap. The guys never fight. Not in any way that says they mean it. They’re too close for that.
“His advice worked for me.”
Which is stupid I needed it, but the night Paisley was at my place and Jason pulled me aside, he said one thing that stuck with me. That gave me the confidence to go after what I wanted, finally, going after something I want off the ice.
Girls like boldness and confidence. Say what you feel. Tell her what you think. But make sure it’s honest. That’s all you have to do.
For a man who seems to know women so well, I’m surprised he doesn’t seem to care about anything more than short-term flings.
“Katie really likes her. She seems sweet. How’s everything going with Angelo?”
I haven’t had time to tell anyone about the nanny company, although I dealt with them immediately Friday night. They have someone new coming tomorrow. Time is ticking down.
We start training camp soon and exhibition games shortly after. Then the season begins.
If I’m going to be able to focus on my game this season, I need to know Angelo is taken care of while I am gone.
“Good. I guess.” I take a sip of my water and shake my head. “That is not true. I think I fail at everything and every time I think of Angela, I want to punch someone. Not her,” I say quickly. The guys know me, but that doesn’t mean I want them thinking I’d hit a woman.
Never. But if I would… Angela
would be at the top of my list.
“Have you talked to her at all? Ask her what the hell she was thinking?”
“I’m leaving that to my lawyer.” My jaw tics as I think about Luke tracking her down. For someone who claims to be easy to find she doesn’t seem interested in speaking with him now, and even though he tells me not to be concerned, I can’t help it.
Today is not that day to be angry thinking about her, though.
“Where is Hendrix?” I scan the crowd. The entire team isn’t here, but most are and it’s not like Hendrix to miss out on a party. Plus, I want the change of subject.
“Madison is probably demanding attention,” Jason says, seething behind his bottle of beer. “I’m sure he’ll show later.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jude says. “The man’s been in a crap mood all week.”
“Because of Madison?” I have never understood the two of them. She acts like she hates all of us and the team and yet she has no problem enjoying the money.
“Who knows.” Jason shrugs and he lifts his hand toward Chauncy across the patio. “And who cares. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll kick her to the curb. I’ve gotta talk to Sawyer.”
He takes off, heading toward Sawyer who has a girl at his side, someone I recognize. “What is Sawyer’s sister doing in town?”
From what I can recall, she still lives in Toronto, Ontario where Sawyer is from. She usually comes to one or two games a year, but usually only around the holidays.
“You didn’t hear?” At the quick shake of my head, Jude’s jaw drops. “Dude. Sawyer’s pissed. Her fiancé has been treating her like crap, so he offered to fly her down for the weekend. But apparently when she got back from work the other day before her flight to grab her bag, her entire apartment she shared with him was cleaned out. Everything but her clothes and shit plus the account they shared was empty.”
“No shit?” I’d be pissed I didn’t hear about this, but I haven’t been hanging out in the locker rooms after practice or weight training. I throw on my clothes and hurry out of there so I’m sure I’ve missed a lot.