IMPACT: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Vivian Lux

  Was this what regret felt like?

  Wow. Regret sucks.

  "Yeah, sure, Jarrett," I answered, quickly cutting off that line of thinking before it could lead me down any more dark pathways. "But I'm picking the place. I don't trust your taste in the slightest."

  *****

  "Miss Bryant, how good to see you again." The hostess at the Grapery smiled widely, showing off her glinting tongue ring. "There's a gentleman here to see you, I believe?"

  "I wouldn't call him a gentleman at all," I replied, but followed her to the back corner table anyway.

  "Nice place, Bryant," Kyle said by way of greeting. He made to stand up politely but banged his knee against the corner of the table in the process. He plopped back down again, rubbing his knee grumpily.

  "Yeah, I figured I'd need to drink large quantities of wine in order to stomach seeing you outside of work, Jarrett," I said, sitting, down and tucking my skirt under my legs. "I cannot believe I'm on a date with you."

  "It's not a date," Kyle interjected.

  "Good, let's keep pretending that," I answered, opening the menu, "for my ego's sake."

  "It's not a date, Olivia," Kyle repeated, sounding irritated. "I only pretending to hit on you so no one in the office would be suspicious that we were talking."

  "Okay, sure. Whatever makes this easier on you is fine with me."

  Kyle leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. "Climb down off your high horse for a sec and listen to me," he said, crossing his arms and leaning across the table. There was something...odd about his tone.

  "Okay, I'm listening," I said, slamming down my menu and miming opening my eyes wide with my fingertips.

  "You are completely maddening," he observed. "But you're a hell of a coder. I've been wondering something for a while now. What's your endgame at Cupid’s Arrow, Bryant?"

  This was not what I was expecting. "Endgame?"

  "You're fucking good at your job," he said. I was taken aback by his matter-of-fact tone. He wasn't trying to flatter me or get into my pants. He was just making an observation. "Better than the rest of your team put together. You could be pulling down some serious cash, but instead, you're slumming it. Why?"

  I leaned back. "The pleasure of your company."

  "Bullshit. You can't stand me. Frankly, I can't even believe you decided to come out tonight."

  "Free booze is free booze. I'm going to order the most expensive bottle on the menu."

  "And I can afford it. You know why? Because I'm paid what I am worth, Bryant. You could be too."

  "You offering me a raise?"

  "No." Kyle leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table. I looked at his hands and was startled to see he had long, elegant fingers. I'd never noticed how nice his hands were before. "A new job entirely. I'm leaving Cupid’s Arrow and I want you to come with me."

  Luckily the waitress came by so I could recover my equilibrium. By the time we placed our orders, I had recovered my powers of speech. "Why do you want me with you? So you can stare at my tits all day?"

  Kyle rolled his eyes. "Will you cut it with the junior high potty mouth? You're not shocking me, or embarrassing me, Bryant. And you're not getting out of answering me that easily."

  "Who said I was trying to get out of answering you?"

  But I was. My mouth was running dry. A new position? I liked my life. I liked the way things were, the way I had arranged them. I had power, control at Cupid’s Arrow. I had my best friend working in the cubicle next to me. I didn't regret a thing about the opportunities I had passed up to stay there. No regrets at all.

  "Go find some twenty-year-old MIT grad who shares your taste in pleated khakis," I told Kyle. "I like the way things are."

  "See that's the thing. Things aren't always going to be as they are now." He leaned forward. "There's a buyout coming soon. We're going to sell and then you're going to be on the street, pounding the pavement with the rest of the developers who have more on their resume than you do. Do you really want to compete with them? Or do you want to break out ahead of the pack and take care of yourself?"

  I felt like he had just dumped a pitcher of cold water on my head. "There's a buyout?" I stammered. The waitress came by with our bottle and, for the first time, I noticed the little swell of belly under her apron. My thoughts went to Candace, her slim hand resting on her belly, the soft smiles she made when she felt her kid kick her. "When were you planning on telling the rest of the employees?"

  "I wasn't," he said. "Just you." He stood up, his wine untouched. "Think about it. This would be a huge promotion for you. More responsibility, more power. You've got what it takes. I know you do. You just have to believe you can do it."

  "Spare me the inspirational poster bullshit. I know I'm good."

  "And it’s a good offer," Kyle said. "You just have to take it and not throw it away."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "I mean don't sabotage this like you do everything else."

  "Fuck you, Kyle. You don't know me at all."

  "I’m not as dumb as I look and I'm certainly not as dumb as you think I am. You thought I wanted to get in your pants tonight. Look at you." My fingers went to my blouse, cut low and tight across the chest. "You were totally fucking ready to sleep with your boss out of what, boredom? Did you even think this through?"

  "Fuck off," I said. There were tears pricking at the edges of my eyes. I couldn't let them fall. Not in front of this squirrelly, pleated pants wearing sadist. "Like I'd sleep with you."

  "I don't give a shit about who you sleep with," he said. "I give a shit about you." He grabbed the damp napkin from under his wineglass, clicked a pen out of his shirt pocket, and then scribbled something on it. "Think about it," he said, sliding the napkin over. "I'll pay at the counter. Enjoy your expensive bottle of wine. It's on me."

  I watched him leave, staring at his back as he settled our tab and then walked out the door. I kept watching as he passed by the plate glass windows and moved out of sight.

  And I kept watching the windows for a long time after that. Because I wanted to avoid looking at the napkin - and the salary offer he had written on it - for as long as I possibly could.

  Chapter 8

  Brad

  "Friday, Saturday, extra," I chanted to myself as I shoved clothes into my duffel bag.

  "You back on Sunday?" Marcus asked, wandering towards me with a towel wrapped around his waist. I quickly averted my eyes. Three years in prison had left my brother a little too comfortable with casual nudity, and the few days he had spent here alone while I was on the road had done nothing to restore his sense of shame.

  Showering alone was still a novelty to him. I think he was up to three a day by now, using an entire tank of hot water each time.

  "Yeah," I grunted, staring at my bag. Something was missing. "Right. Socks." I muttered, then threw three pairs into the mix.

  I still wasn't in the mindset of playing away games. Pittsburgh had felt like nothing more than a practice run, a quick dash there and back again. The same rain that fell in Chicago that morning had greeted us in Pittsburgh then next day.

  Arizona was going to be a different feel entirely. Whoever had the vision, and the balls, to build a hockey rink in the middle of the desert was either a genius or a maniac. I had no idea what the weather in Arizona was supposed to be like right now. Usually, this would be exciting, something I would plan for, checking the weather, and tracking the temperature in each city we visited.

  The season had started, but I wasn't feeling it at all.

  "You're okay with me being here again, though, right?" Marc asked anxiously.

  "You're not going to steal anything, right?" I asked. He glared at me, and I grinned. "Joking, relax. Yeah, just don't trash the place."

  My brother smiled ruefully. Prison seemed to have taken the edge off of his bravado. Laid him lower. It was both gratifying and disturbing for me to see my older brother in this new light. "I'm not gonna be throwin' any wild parties o
r anything," he reassured me. "Mostly I'm probably going to just keep hiding in here." He shook his head. "Everything is so structured on the inside. Ding goes the bell for chow time. Ding goes the bell for lights out. The whole day long, 'ding, do this, ding, do that.'" He adjusted his towel and I averted my eyes in case of slippage. "At first, I hated it. But now that I'm out, I don't have a fucking clue what to do with myself. Without COs barking at me all damn day, I'm completely lost."

  I zipped my bag. "You seem like you want to talk and all, and that's totally cool, but could you put on some damn clothes first?" I begged him.

  Marc looked down at his towel and chuckled. "Sorry, man. I need to relearn the concept of privacy too, I guess." He headed into the guest room.

  I grabbed my keys and wallet off my nightstand. I had to be on the team bus to the airport in a half an hour. It was time to move.

  Why wasn't I moving?

  When my phone rang in my hand, I grabbed at it like it was the governor calling with my stay of execution. I didn't even recognize the number, but I still answered anyway.

  "Yeah?"

  "Brad?" It was a female voice. Not Olivia's. But still familiar. "It's Candace. Candace Hunter?"

  I felt a grin spread across my face...and with it, utter confusion. "You mean soon-to-be Candace Carter?"

  She laughed her sweet little laugh. "Ian is already calling me CC. I don't know if I like it."

  "I'd tell you to tell Ian to stop being a pain in the ass, but I know that's completely futile," I said. I liked Candace. And it had everything to do with the fact that she was marrying Ian and absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was Olivia's best friend.

  Candace giggled. "He is a pain in the ass, but I'm going to miss him on the road anyway. Which," she paused, "is why I'm calling. I wanted to go out when you guys get back. It's been a while and we have some catching up to do."

  My tongue tripped over itself and I fell silent, stumbling over the question that I couldn't bring myself to ask. Will Olivia be there?

  To my immense relief, I didn't ask it. But the damage was already done. I opened my mouth again to find that words had completely abandoned me.

  "Brad?" Candace's voice grew muffled and I knew she was checking her phone to see if she'd dropped the call. I took a deep breath. "Brad, are you there? Can you hear me?"

  "Yeah," I sputtered. I rolled my head side to side, relaxing the muscles in my neck and shoulders. "Yes," I said, feeling the tension draining away. "I can hear you. Sorry, there's a dead spot in my apartment," I lied. "Sure. It'd be great to see you. You guys must be getting excited."

  "We are," Candace said. "This kid is already keeping me up all night. He or she may as well come out and do it for real."

  I smiled, an odd pang twisting in my stomach. I dismissed it as quickly as it came. "Cool," I said. "I'll see you Monday night."

  "See you Monday," Candace said excitedly. "It'll be great."

  She sounded really nervous all of a sudden, but I couldn't ask her what was up with Marc standing in the doorway all of a sudden. He was dressed in the same faded gray sweatshirt he was wearing when I picked him up outside of MCC.

  "Who's that?" he asked.

  "Bye, Candy," I said hastily, before she asked who was here with me. If I stuttered just thinking about Olivia, then trying to explain Marcus would just send me right into a tailspin.

  "Nobody," I answered, chucking my phone into my duffel bag.

  "Sounded like a chick," Marc said, needling me. "You got a chick you haven't told me about?"

  "Cut the crap, Marc."

  "She sounded hot."

  "Yeah. Ian's fiancée is hot. But also very pregnant and very unavailable so stop giving me shit now, please."

  "Ian Carter?" Marc's face twisted oddly. "Ian is getting married? He's got a baby coming?"

  I took a deep breath. "Yeah. I uh, must have forgotten to tell you."

  For a second, Marc looked murderously angry. "What else did you forget to tell me?" he shouted, slamming his hand against the doorframe. "What else have I missed while I was rotting away inside?"

  "Shit." Guilt settled around my shoulders. There were so many times over the past three years when I thought about going to see him and then chose not to. I was too embarrassed, too angry, too generally fucking busy with my life to worry about what Marc was missing while he was locked up.

  My life had moved on without him and it was clear that he knew it. "I'm sorry, man."

  And just as quickly as his temper flared, it died back down again. "Nah, you've got nothin' to be sorry about. You don't owe me shit and hell, you're putting me up in the fucking Four Seasons here." He looked around my place. "You've done well, little man."

  I couldn't help myself. "I've got four inches and thirty pounds on you. The time when you could call me 'little man' has long passed."

  Marc looked like he wanted to argue, maybe put me in a headlock or at least try to. But then he sighed. "Yeah, a lot of things have fucking passed, haven't they?"

  I glanced at the clock on the microwave. "Shit, including the time I should have left." I slapped Marc on the back. "Don't burn the place down while I'm gone, okay?"

  "I'll do my best," my brother grinned. "Have fun twirling around on the ice, princess."

  "Fuck you," I grinned back, and headed out the door.

  It was time to hit the road and do my job.

  Chapter 9

  Olivia

  "Holy fuck, slow down!" I called out, vaulting over the puddle of something viscous and foul smelling that oozed through the gutter like an oil slick. I nearly broke the heel of my stiletto in the process.

  But Candace was way ahead of me already, and moving fast. I didn't want to tell her because she was my best friend and all, but she had definitely started to waddle.

  "Jesus, girl, where's the fire?" I panted as I caught up with her. "I thought pregnant women were supposed to take it easy in these last few weeks. Displaced center of gravity and all that."

  Candace whirled around like I had snuck up on her and yelled 'Boo!" "Oh!" she exclaimed, and then let out a lunatic laugh. "I'm just really excited for this night out, Livs, sorry."

  I slowed down. "Wait a second," I said warily. "What's going on?"

  "What do you mean?" she asked, her smile wide. So wide. Too wide, in fact, because I could see her goddamn molars. "Nothing's wrong."

  "Bullshit," I said, stopping right in the middle of the sidewalk. "Tell me what's going on, Candace."

  She touched her cheek, her telltale sign that she was lying, then seemed to catch herself and allowed her hand to flutter prettily down to rest on the high shelf of her stomach. She was changing tactics. "Oh, you know, in a few weeks all this is going to change. Everything is going to change and I just wanted to have this one night...."

  "Candy Cane, that sounds real nice, but we've been out three times in the past week alone. So cut the flattery. Tell me why you're running."

  Candace looked left, and then right. And then she just bolted, blasting past me like she was some kind of pregnant bowling ball and I was the pin. She nearly knocked me on my ass.

  And I'll say this, the girl knows me too well. She knew that I would go tearing after her, shouting for her to slow down, to turn around and tell me what the hell was going on. She was counting on the fact that I would barrel into the quiet restaurant, shouting obscenities at the top of my lungs, so that every pair of eyes in the place landed right on me.

  Including a pair of unfairly blue ones that looked very, very amused.

  I skidded to a halt and stared at him, unable to move and unsure of what direction to go in if I did. Should I turn and run away?

  Or should I walk to the table and sit down across from Bradley Scott?

  "Traitor," I hissed to Candace, while still rooted to the spot.

  She adopted a completely innocent expression. "Hi boys!" she sang out to the table. "Welcome back!"

  "Whatever happened to lasses before asses?" I demanded, jabbi
ng her in the rib. I had to be more gentle than I would have liked because of the baby and all. I actually wanted to strangle her.

  "Brad's not an ass," Candace protested. "And you said it yourself. You promised we could still go out and have fun as friends. You promised me, Olivia."

  "So this is why you went sprinting in here like a pregnant Usain Bolt, huh? So I wouldn't see his car?"

  "Actually, he came with me," Ian said, rising to his feet and giving me a kiss on the face-cheek, before turning and grabbing a handful of Candace's ass-cheek.

  Brad had been sitting there watching me have a four-year-old style tantrum without saying a word. He finally chose this moment to break in. "Hey there, Livs," he said, in that growly, gravelly baritone of his.

  I planted my feet and licked my lips. "Bradley," I said coolly. Or at least I hoped it sounded cool. I was trying to project an air of general coolness. But inside I was alternating between freezing and burning up.

  "How've you been?" he asked, his voice steady. He at least had the good grace not to mention my ill-advised late-night texts, though the awkwardness was still hanging in the air - like an unacknowledged fart.

  "Good, good, really good," I babbled, sitting down in my chair and fiddling with my menu to avoid making eye contact.

  Then I glanced up. Big mistake.

  Brad was giving me the look. That look of his, where he peered right into my goddamned soul and saw everything I ever wanted to keep a secret. While revealing nothing about himself, of course. It was a look that drove me crazy in all the ways a man could drive a woman crazy. It was a look that made me want to climb in his lap, straddle him, press my body up against him, run my hands up his muscled chest to his broad shoulders... and then shake him as hard as I could.

  Instead, I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, feeling like he was shining a spotlight right on me.

  I hated that I couldn't tell what he was thinking right now. Was he happy to see me? Was he hating me? He revealed absolutely nothing in his gaze except calm regard. But at one time, not so long ago, he had taken that mask off for me. He had let down his guard and let me in, shown me just a little bit of the man behind that mask.