Winger

by Samantha Whiskey

  My career.

  My team.

  “And,” he said. “You and Jeannine were around each other enough to know neither of you had babies on the brain. Hell, I’m pretty sure she told me she never wanted kids.”

  “Right,” Gage said. “She always reminded me of you when she talked like that.” Gage flashed me a pitying look, and I glared at him. He shrugged.

  “So,” Rory went on. “That would be enough to not want to tell you. Or, she likely thought you got the message and didn’t care.”

  I snarled. “I’m not a heartless asshole.”

  “I know,” Rory said, holding up his hands. “I know, trust me. But she may not. Or she may have made herself believe this was some kind of burden to you.”

  Fuck.

  “It’s not,” I said, shocked as hell those words came out of my mouth.

  Because what had I always said?

  What had I always thought?

  That a wife and kids would be a distraction from the game. From the career I spent my whole life working toward. One I was riding in my prime right now. One I didn’t want to end any time soon. One I didn’t want to choose between when it came down to it or something else.

  But this? I hadn’t prepared for this on any sort of level.

  “What are you going to do?” Gage asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “She was so pissed when she stormed out of here.”

  Rightly so.

  “I was kind of a dick,” I admitted.

  “You were angry,” Rory said. “That’s totally understandable. We’d all be roaring if they’d hid it from us.”

  Gage nodded in agreement.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked again.

  “Talk to her?” I tilted my head. “If she’ll let me.” I unlaced my skates and bolted off the bench, needing a shower. A minute to get my head right. “I never wanted to be a dad,” I admitted as I grabbed a towel from my bag. “But now…”

  Now what?

  I couldn’t get Jeannine out of my head before.

  Couldn’t stop wondering what she was doing but was too much of a coward to call her.

  I should’ve checked in.

  I should’ve done a lot of things.

  “Something shifted when she said the words,” I said. “If she’ll let me…I want to be there for her.”

  “How?” Rory asked.

  A fair question.

  One I wasn’t close to having an answer too.

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  Gage nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

  Rory did the same.

  “We’re here for you,” Gage said. “Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding as they headed out.

  I walked in a fog to the showers, not really feeling the steaming hot water. Going through the motions, I wasn’t really there.

  I was with her.

  Trying to change my reaction.

  Trying to find a way to make her see I wasn’t some guy who would check out when the stakes were raised.

  She’ll never believe you.

  But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

  Chapter 3

  Jeannine

  “Damn it!” I snapped, slamming the copper skillet down and booking it out of the kitchen in my restaurant. I nearly knocked over Rafael on my way out.

  My stomach rolled, and I barely made it to the bathroom. I heaved but had nothing left to give. I’d already thrown up everything at home before I came into work.

  After a few minutes, and a few splashes of cold water to my face, I took a deep breath. “Baby,” I said, holding my stomach. “Mommy needs you to cool it with this attitude. I know we had a shit day yesterday but please don’t take it out on me.”

  Or do.

  Since it’s my fault.

  Oh God, everything that happens to this child from now until I die will be my fault.

  I leaned over the sink, another wave of nausea crashing over me for an entirely different reason.

  “Jeannine?” Warren’s voice sounded from the door, and my eyes snapped to it. One perfectly sculpted arm held open the ladies’ room door, but his face was turned away.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, standing straight to inspect myself in the mirror.

  My chef’s coat was a bit tight due to the baby-ball-belly, but we didn’t look half bad.

  Not that I cared what Warren thought. His gruff response to me showing up yesterday was enough to shoot that fantasy all to shit.

  “We need to talk,” he said, still looking away.

  I dried my hands, threw the crumpled paper towel in the trash, and brushed past him in a hurry. I stomped back into my kitchen, finding my copper skillet full of seared halibut had already been sent.

  “Thanks, Rafael.” The kid was brilliant and had been picking up my slack for the last couple of months. The second I was given the go-ahead by investors to open my fourth location, I was going to make him head chef. He still didn’t have a clue.

  “Jeannine,” Warren said my name again, this time walking straight through my kitchen doors like he owned the place.

  He didn’t.

  I did.

  I glanced at the pile of tickets in the window, calling off orders as I read them.

  “I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Hot damn, that chest.

  It was more defined than six months ago if that was possible. I hadn’t been able to notice in all that hockey gear yesterday, but training with his native Canadians had turned the already sculpted man into a freaking Adonis. And the way his dark eyes stared me down, unwavering, unflinching…it was enough to make my body hum like a backup generator had started.

  No, bitch. No!

  I was horny as hell thanks to these hormones and not having an orgasm since the night of my little baby-ball’s conception. But that didn’t mean I was going to go all moony-eyed over Warren.

  Not after yesterday.

  “I assumed we talked everything out yesterday,” I said, slipping a piece of salmon into a fresh skillet. The sizzle was a gorgeous sound I lived for.

  The smell?

  Fuck. My. Life.

  I spun away as the steam rising from the pan hit my face, one hand on my back, the other on my tummy as I bent over the prep table next to my stove.

  Deep breaths—in and out—I would not throw up every single time I cooked.

  A pair of strong, warm hands were on my back, and without meaning to, I closed my eyes. My skin remembered his touch as it tightened with need.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice calm, steady.

  Baby-ball wiggled as my heart rate soared, and suddenly the nausea was replaced with…anger.

  I whirled around, jerking away from his touch. “No!”

  I handed Rafael my tongs, silently telling him I’d be right back. He nodded, and I once again found myself loving that kid. I hurried out of the kitchen, turning left down the hallway, and flying into my office that was tucked into a back corner. Warren shut the door behind me, and I spun to face him.

  “I’m so far from all right, Warren,” I said his name like an insult.

  This wasn’t his fault.

  Not really.

  But he’d hurt me yesterday.

  I never let men hurt me.

  Never let them get close enough to sting.

  Plus, I was beyond hormonal.

  I flung my hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Lately, I can’t smell any cooked protein without wanting to puke,” I snapped. “Which is brilliant since I’m a fucking chef!” My breathing was ragged, but I pushed on. “The owner of the ancient building I’ve had my eye on for years is finally ready to sell to me. Because I know a few Sharks and he’s a huge fan…” I eyed him, but the words kept coming. “I have this huge benefit in a few months to get the fourth location greenlit from investors, and the building owner, and the high-pr
ofile guest list isn’t coming together like I planned.”

  I moved my fingers, pinching my thumb and forefinger together.

  “And,” I continued. “I just found out this morning that because my complex’s yearly inspection turned up one tiny spec of black mold, the entire place has to be renovated. So, not only am I hugely pregnant, hormonal, and can’t cook, but I’ve got no home.” I huffed. “I’m supposed to nest soon! And I can’t!”

  I dropped my hand, smacking it against my black legging covered thigh. I had a pair in a variety of colors—the soft things had been a godsend since the first trimester.

  Warren’s arms were loose at his sides, his eyes sincere, tuned-in.

  Relief washed over me so much I was slightly dizzy.

  I chuckled.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “What’s funny?” He asked, and the words shot me straight back to that night.

  The night that changed my life—sure, I was a chaotic mess right now, but it was worth it. I knew that in the creases of my soul—this baby was my world.

  “It’s not you,” I said through my laughter. I instinctively smoothed my hand over my tummy. “I guess that is why people do this when they’re married.”

  He tilted his head.

  “So they have someone they can yell at without worrying about them leaving,” I said, sucking in a sharp breath. “That felt fucking great.”

  Warren chuckled. “Glad to help.”

  The severity of his words stole the smile from my lips.

  “Why are you here?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes fell to where I rubbed my tummy. Something flickered in those dark eyes, something that wasn’t anywhere near the cocky sparks I was used to.

  “I was an asshole.” He drew his gaze back to mine. “Yesterday. Six months ago. Maybe my entire life.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop it,” I said, and shifted my weight. My left hip was hurting something fierce. “Yesterday, sure. Six months ago was fun and you know it. And before that? You never lied about who you were to anyone. That doesn’t make you an asshole.”

  “Debatable,” he said, the gruffness to his voice eliciting warm chills all over my body.

  Great.

  “Look,” he said. “I want to be here for you. For the baby.” His voice cracked on the last word, and it was enough to sting my heart.

  “I didn’t tell you because I needed anything from you. I know you never wanted kids. I’m not a bunny trying to trap you into anything.”

  “Fuck, woman.” He snorted. “I know you don’t need me.”

  Good.

  “I’m saying I need you.”

  My eyes widened, and he quickly raised his hands like he was trying to tame a wild animal.

  “Don’t freak out,” he said. “I’m not about to pull a diamond. I just…I want a chance, Jeannine. Give me a chance to prove to you I’d be a good dad and a good…well, other things if that time comes.”

  It was my turn to tilt my head. “I can’t.”

  He sighed. “You have to.”

  “Warren,” I said, the word getting tangled in my throat. “This was never part of either of our plans. We were the same. Career-focused, loved the single life. That was us, and I was fine with that. The second I saw those two pink lines? Everything changed for me. It doesn’t have to for you, but I can’t let this baby get hurt. In any way.”

  “Fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. Stupid Olympics. Fucking dumbass phone.”

  I pressed my lips together to hide my smile. I’d never seen the beast of a Shark flustered. It was kind of endearing.

  Kind of sexy AF too.

  I hushed the inner purring kitten that only woke up in Warren’s presence.

  “Please, Nine. The last thing I want to do is hurt the baby, or you. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I want to be part of your life.”

  I rubbed my palms over my face, every protective instinct battling inside me.

  “Let me prove it to you,” he said before I could come to a decision.

  “What do you mean?”

  He took two steps closer to me, the heat from his body filling my space. I arched my neck to meet his eyes because he was so damned tall.

  I could climb him in two seconds. Even with the baby-ball he wouldn’t struggle…

  Down girl.

  “Give me these last three months. Let me show you the kind of man I want to be. For you. For the baby.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Do I have to beg?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll pay—”

  “I don’t need your money,” I snapped.

  “I know,” he said. “I know.” His dark eyes lit up. “This benefit, the owner…he’s a fan? I’ll be there. I’ll take photos and sign anything he wants.”

  Hope bloomed dangerously in my chest. I did need a Shark, but I figured I’d rope Gage or Rory into it. Having Warren there…

  “There has to be something you need,” he continued, taking my silence as a no. “Maybe help with a list?”

  My blood froze in my veins.

  Damn these Shark boys gossip like old ladies!

  “What are you talking about?” I tried to play dumb.

  He smirked, reading the lie all over my face. “Gage and Rory mentioned you girls all made lists. They didn’t go into full details, but if Bailey and Paige have a list, you do too. Give me three months, and I’ll help you check off everything on that list. If by the end of the three months you don’t want me in your and the baby’s life, I’ll go quietly.”

  I laughed again. “You have no idea what you’re suggesting.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, the hint of lust flashing in his eyes.

  Flashes of him on his knees before me, hovering on top of me, rocking inside me—it made me tremble. How could he possibly think about having sex with me when I was basically a whale?

  “No,” I said. “You don’t.”

  “Enlighten me,” he challenged.

  “Bailey and Paige’s lists may have been dirty-girl themed, but I am the dirty-girl who helped write them.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “And they helped me write mine.” More like Bailey grabbed the paper and Paige wrote items down, and I watched from behind a pitcher of margaritas. “They put things on the list that I have never experienced. Things I likely never would unless I went out on a limb and changed my lifestyle for a bit.”

  “I’m not following,” Warren said, his eyes solely focused on me.

  “It’s a clean list. Couple stuff. Chick-flick-nights, farmer’s markets, brunch.” I had to give the man credit—he didn’t flinch. If anything, he looked excited.

  “Oh, I’m all over that,” he said.

  “What?” I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious! That list doesn’t sound anything like us.”

  He smirked. “And I’m sure Paige and Bailey’s lists were nothing like them.” He cocked a knowing eyebrow at me. “Give me this three months, Jeannine. And that list.”

  I hesitated. I couldn’t afford to fall for this man. Not when I knew his lifestyle—hell, I’d been him six months ago.

  But, I could allow him to be in the baby’s life…if he proved he was in this for real.

  “You can’t fall in love with me,” I said, mimicking the words we’d spoken to each other six months ago.

  He pushed some hair off my face, the damn touch igniting a trail of fire over my skin.

  Damn, it’s been too long again.

  “Same goes for you,” he said.

  “No worries here.” I smiled, hoping the confident mask would hide the icy-fear shooting through my veins.

  Seven months ago this proposition might’ve been an entertaining fling. Something I tried to complete my list and have a little fun at the same time. But it wasn’t just about me anymore. It never would be again. And while I was completely fine with that fact, I didn’t think Warren had a clue what was in store for
him.

  Warren leaned closer to my face, his nose just a breath away from mine. “So, we have a deal?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. He smelled so good, crisp and spicy and alluring. The heat from his body snaked around mine like a tempting string of pleasure begging to be plucked, and my body remembered how well he could play me.

  “Perfect,” he said, drawing back as I’d gone lusty-eyed under his spell. He backed toward the door, his hand on the knob. “Oh, and Jeannine?” He asked after opening it.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need your keys.”

  I scrunched my forehead at the hand he held palm up as if I’d toss him my keys without question.

  “The guys and I aren’t working,” he said. “Off-season.”

  “So? Why does that matter? And what does it have to do with my keys?”

  “We’ll move your stuff into my place while you finish your workday,” he said, that cocky grin on his lips.

  “Excuse me?”

  He sighed, almost like he finally realized the massive challenge I was.

  Good, better to learn that sooner.

  “Nine. You said you have black mold in your apartment—”

  “A tiny spec—”

  “I don’t care. I wouldn’t let you or the baby near it even if they weren’t renovating.” The protective growl in his voice made a shiver ripple inside my core, and my knees weakened.

  Stay strong. Stay strong.

  “Please,” he said, those eyes going all soft and open and vulnerable. Fucking hell. “I have more room than I could ever need. You can take the master, and I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms. Hell, I’ll sleep in the guest house if you want me to.” He finally dropped his hand when he realized I hadn’t budged to get my keys. “I’ll sleep at Rory’s?”

  I chuckled, shaking my head as I grabbed my purse and fished out my keys. The man was committed, I’d give him that. And if his house was anything like Gage’s, then there would be tons of room. It would be nice not having to stay a hotel for the next three months, or at one of the girl’s—they didn’t need my preggo attitude on a constant basis, not with their own babies to take care of.

  I moved slowly, stopping an inch away from him. “I suppose if we’re going to pretend to be a couple to complete that list, moving in together will only make things easier.” I closed the keys into his hand.