by Anna Sugden
Rosa filled Issy in on her daughter’s latest antics and the sisters shared a laugh.
Eventually, though, the conversation returned to Issy’s situation.
“Are you coming home?” Rosa asked.
“No. I’m settled here.” She didn’t want to tell her sister that returning would be a backward step. That she’d feel like a failure.
“And you don’t want to get sucked back into the old issues.”
Issy couldn’t deny that, either. “I’m sorry.”
“Our parents are what they are. I can handle them. But you never know—someday I may take you up on your offer and move with Tinka up to Jersey.”
“You’re welcome anytime. If you need any help, just say the word.”
“Same goes. I don’t know what I can do to help you through this, other than to reassure you that you’ll be a great mom. Your baby is lucky.”
Her sister’s support touched her deeply. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. And I plan to remind you regularly.”
“I have a feeling I’ll need reminding.”
By the time she hung up Issy was exhausted. As she stood her muscles protested; her body was stiff from sitting on the floor for so long. Yet she felt lighter than she had since she’d discovered she was pregnant.
The joy she’d felt when she’d first seen Peanut washed back over her like the gently lapping waves on that Antiguan beach.
Issy laid her hand on her stomach, finally ready to forge the bond she’d been so wary of. “This may not be exactly as I’d planned, but I’ll do my best for you, little one. I promise.”
* * *
WHO’D HAVE THOUGHT a small, blurry, black-and-white picture would become J.B.’s talisman for the season?
He wasn’t one for superstitions—the actions he performed regularly, before every game, were a routine. But as he stood by the boards with his linemates, watching hats rain onto the ice, J.B. was happy to call the scan photo anything the hockey gods wanted, as long as his good fortune continued.
Jake cuffed J.B.’s helmet. “Opening day hat trick. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“A win on home ice to start the season is exactly what we need.” Kenny held up his stick, pointing the blade toward J.B. “Maybe you should kiss this to give me the same luck.”
“Only if you kiss my award-winning ass first.”
Mad Dog rolled his eyes. “Ever since that local women’s magazine voted you the sexiest rear in the area’s pro sports, you’ve been an award-winning pain in the ass.”
“I can’t help it if those ladies appreciate that my talents aren’t restricted to the ice.” J.B. climbed over the boards, sat on the bench and then swigged from his water bottle.
Paddy shook his head. “Carrying that oversize ego around must make it hard to stay upright on your skates.”
“Just trying to deal with what life throws at me, the best way I can.”
His teammates laughed and tossed crude but good-natured insults at him. J.B. didn’t care. The points on the board were all that mattered.
“Whatever brought you, and us, this good fortune, keep it the hell up.” Kenny slapped him on the shoulder. “And tell me where I can find something lucky, too.”
“Hard work and single-minded determination are all that matters, kid,” Paddy said. “No inanimate object can affect the outcome of a game.”
“You’ll believe in lucky charms when it affects your play,” Kenny shot back.
“I’m going to need more than a four-leaf clover to get me back scoring.”
“Maybe J.B. should be kissing your stick.”
“In his wet dreams.”
J.B. tuned out the conversation and tried to focus on the game. There was still enough time left to play in the third period for the Senators to score and even up the game again. A hat trick meant nothing if the Cats didn’t win.
Still, not a bad start to the season, he thought as he watched the officials and the ice crew shovel up hats, most of which would be donated to a charity of J.B.’s choosing.
Maybe it was just coincidence about the scan picture, but J.B. wasn’t about to mess with what seemed to work, and that photo was the only thing that had changed in his life.
When Issy had handed him the scan of their child, J.B. had slipped it into the back of his wallet, assuming he’d forget about it. It wasn’t like the picture was clear; despite Issy’s insistence, the blob was more peanut than baby. And who got sentimental about a peanut?
J.B. had barely reached home before he’d pulled out the picture and stared at it.
A baby. For real.
His baby. Holy crap. He was going to be a father.
J.B. had stuck the photo back in his wallet, which was how it had ended up in his locker the following day. Then he’d had the best practice in months, so he’d kept the photo in his wallet.
Today’s game sealed the deal.
“J.B., Paddy, Juergen, you’re up.” Macarty gave them an outline for the play he wanted executed, then sent them over the boards.
“Try for a pants trick,” Kenny called after him.
J.B. touched his helmet in response as he skated to the far circle for a face-off.
Ever since a well-known hockey podcast had nicknamed a player scoring four goals in a game as a pants trick—resulting in fans throwing pants onto the ice—the Ice Cats had wanted one. So far, no one had managed it in their barn. There was even a pool on the board in the locker room, with everyone adding bills to sweeten the prize. The first player to score a pants trick would win the pot, which currently stood at several grand.
Not that anyone needed the money. But the kudos of winning kept scorers on their toes.
J.B. didn’t register a shot during his shift. The Senators grew desperate as time ticked away. Another goal would kill off the game, so they put their bodies on the line to keep the puck from reaching their net. The second power-play unit didn’t fare much better and the extraman advantage expired without a change in score.
Both teams played punch, counterpunch, with the action moving swiftly from end to end and back again. The Cats’ defense, led by Jake, was solid, backstopped by Ike. They would not let this lead slip away.
With the clock down to the final two minutes in the game, the Sens pulled their goaltender for an extra attacker. This was the Cats’ chance to close out the game with an empty-net goal. But first they had to stop their opposition from scoring.
Play was frantic as white jerseys swarmed the Cats’ net. Shots pinged off the pipes and Ike’s equipment, but the goaltender stood tall. Shift after shift, J.B. and his teammates poked and jabbed, trying to release the puck from the Sens’ possession.
The announcer called the last minute of play. The battle in front of the net intensified, but still the puck wouldn’t go in for the Sens.
When it squirted out of the melee to J.B., the crowd roared for him to shoot, but he didn’t have a clear shot and he didn’t want to risk an icing call with thirty seconds to go. He passed to Juergen, who skated into the zone and slotted the biscuit into the empty net, icing the game and guaranteeing the Cats’ win.
J.B. hadn’t got a pants trick, but he didn’t care. The Cats were on their way; two points closer to another playoff run in April. This might only be the first game of the season, but every point counted.
The celebrations moved to the locker room after the game. Once again J.B. accepted the cat ears and wore them during the postgame press calls.
“Why don’t we just put your initials on the damn things?” Kenny mumbled good-naturedly as he buttoned his shirt. “The way you’re playing, no one else will get a look-in.”
“Sure they will.” J.B. placed the cat ears on the shelf in his locker. “This can’t continue all season. Besides, there are other valuable players on the team. Our D was solid tonight.”
“Maybe your luck will hold, and you’ll give Sid and Ovi some competition,” Kenny said.
“It’s one game.”
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br /> “Enjoy it while you can,” Paddy said. “I wouldn’t mind ending my dry spell.”
“You always get hot against Western Conference teams, so you’ll come good on our road trip.”
The Cats would be leaving immediately after their next game for an eight-day, five-game swing through California, returning via Detroit and Nashville. It was a tough start to the season, but at least it got the trip out of the way early on. Hopefully their good play would continue. J.B. knew what he’d be taking along with him to help.
“See you guys at my place,” Jake called before leaving the locker room.
Since the Cats’ home opener was an afternoon game, Jake and Maggie were hosting a buffet dinner to celebrate the new season and Jake’s captaincy. Wives, children, partners and extended family were all invited. Parties at the Badoletti’s were always great, so the whole team was looking forward to letting off some postgame steam.
J.B. usually went stag. It was easier all around and meant he avoided any searching questions from the two moms—Jake’s mother, Tina, and Kenny and Ike’s mother, Karina. The best friends who’d kind of adopted him as an extra son during his early days as an Ice Cat, fussed over him, much as they did their own children. In turn, he teased and flirted with them.
The party this evening was different; Issy would be there.
Though Jake had told him to invite her, J.B. hadn’t wanted to send the wrong message—to her and everyone else. Before he could wrap his head around it, Taylor had stepped in and invited both Sapphie and Issy.
They’d accepted.
Impatient to get going, he chirped at Paddy who, as usual, was the last to be ready. “Come on, man. Your ugly face isn’t getting any prettier as you mess with it.”
Paddy tossed his wet towel at J.B. “You’re just jealous. Women like your ass, but they love my face.”
Kenny laughed until J.B. dropped the towel on his friend’s carefully combed hair. “Hey, don’t mess with the goods.”
Mad Dog shook his head. “If you’re ready, ladies, it’s time to party.”
A short time later the group strolled into Jake’s house and made their way through to the big kitchen where everyone had gathered.
Instantly, J.B. felt at home, not to mention a familiar twinge of guilt. Was he as pleased to see his folks as he was to see Jake’s mom and dad? Or Aunt Karina and her husband, Rory? The sobering answer was that he loved to see his mom, but not his father.
J.B. spotted Sapphie and Issy almost immediately, by the heavily laden kitchen table, having an animated conversation with the two moms. Aunt Karina and Aunt Tina were probably grilling the younger women with the subtlety of the FBI questioning a murder suspect.
He sauntered over and put his arm around the two older women, kissing both on the cheek. “So this is where my favorite ladies are hanging out.”
The moms laughed, demurring. Sapphie rolled her eyes. Issy sipped her drink but wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“It must be if you’re here,” Aunt Tina said fondly.
“I always said he’s a smart boy.” Aunt Karina patted his cheek. “If I was thirty years younger, I’d give you girls a run for your pennies.”
J.B. grinned. Although her English was good, it was her adopted language, and Kenny’s mom was well-known for mixing up phrases. “Don’t you mean a run for your money?”
Aunt Karina waved her hand. “Pfft. Pennies, money. It’s the same, no?”
“Of course,” Issy said earnestly, shooting J.B. a stern look.
“We understood what you meant.” Sapphie smiled.
“Thirty years, Karina?” Aunt Tina arched an eyebrow. “More like forty.”
Her friend shrugged. “I figured he could handle a tiger.”
“Cougar, Ma,” Kenny said as he joined the group. “An older woman is a cougar.”
“I know what I meant.” Aunt Karina winked at her son. “Just ask Rory.”
Kenny looked horrified. “Whoa! Way too much info, Ma.”
Everyone laughed.
J.B. snagged a beer from the counter. “Here, that’ll take the taste out of your mouth.”
“Thanks.” Kenny drank as though he’d been in the desert for weeks. “On that note, Jake sent me over to tell you we’re running low on ravioli, meatballs and potato salad.”
“We’ll put some more out,” Tina said. “Make sure these lovely young ladies get some food, Jean-Baptiste, before it’s all gone.”
“Yes, ma’am,” J.B. said.
She turned to Issy and Sapphie. “The boys are like vultures after a game. If you don’t move quickly, there won’t be anything left.”
“We will,” Issy replied. “Everything looks and smells so good, I may need two plates.”
“As long as you keep your hands off mine.” J.B. steered her over to the buffet. “I know what you’re like about stealing food.”
Issy’s blue eyes twinkled. “You stole the shrimp from my plate.”
“What about those chocolate-dipped cherries?”
“You gave those to me.”
“So I did.” The memory of feeding her made his groin tighten.
“They were delicious.” She moistened her lips.
The party seemed to fade around them until it felt as if there were only the two of them in that kitchen.
“Yes, they were.” His husky tone left no doubt that he wasn’t talking about the cherries.
He stepped closer, until their bodies touched.Even though they were both fully dressed, desire fizzed along his skin as if they were naked.
Her cheeks turned pink. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered.
He lowered his head. “Let’s see if I can find something you’ll enjoy just as much.”
Her lips parted.
Then someone knocked him in the back and he stumbled forward into Issy’s arms.
Startled, her eyes widened as she steadied him.
He took advantage of the moment and held on to her.
Neither of them moved for a few seconds.
Then she stiffened and pulled away, frowning.
J.B. looked over his shoulder at his teammate, Blade.
“Sorry.” Blade grinned, clearly unrepentant. “I was trying to avoid stepping on the cat.”
A black cat sat beneath the table, washing its face.
J.B. and Issy focused on filling their plates. He got her a drink. She thanked him. She pointed out her seven-layer dip. He gave himself an extra helping. They grabbed a couple of empty chairs in the living room, and conversation ebbed and flowed around them as they ate.
“So I spoke to a few guys—Mad Dog, Kenny, Paddy, Ice Man and Blade—and they’ll help out painting the nursery,” J.B. finally said. “Between the six of us, we’ll get the room decorated in no time.”
“That’s nice of them. I’ll make sure I get plenty of food and drink. Jake’s mom was right about how much you all eat.”
He grinned. “We burn up a lot of calories during a game. It’s harder work than it looks.”
“As someone who’s never set foot on ice, skating looks like very hard work.”
“Maybe I could give you skating lessons sometime.”
She surprised him by saying, “I’d like that. But it can’t be for a while, obviously.”
“Uh, sure. Whenever you’re up for it, say the word.”
“When do you think you guys will be free for a painting party?”
He explained about the road trip. “We leave right after our next game—the day after tomorrow—then get home to a packed schedule, including a couple of back-to-back games. It’ll be early November before we get a decent break, so we can spend the day at your place.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got a lot to sort out before then.” She sipped her drink. “Who knew a baby needed so much stuff.”
“It’ll be fine.” He laid his hand over hers. “Have you decided what color you want to paint the nursery?”
She smiled. “I’ve found these really sweet animal wall stickers. They�
��re big enough to make the wall look like a painted mural. So I thought I’d paint the bottom half green and the top half blue, with the ceiling white. Once I’ve added the animal stickers, it’ll look like they’re playing outdoors.”
“Sounds good. Blade’s arty—he could probably paint some trees and stuff.”
“Oh, that would be lovely.”
Her face lit up, sending a warm glow through him and making him want to offer more to keep her looking happy. “We could help you put the nursery furniture together, too, at the same time.”
“That would be a huge help.”
“Then we’re set. I’ll get back to you with some dates and you can choose which suits you best.”
“Sounds good. I’d planned to go furniture shopping tomorrow afternoon. Would you like to come with me?”
“I’m not sure I can make it.”
Wandering around furniture departments or baby stores, or wherever you got baby furniture from, wasn’t high on J.B.’s list of fun things to do on his last free afternoon for almost a month.
“That’s okay.”The disappointment in her eyes was a kicker. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine by myself.”
He frowned. “Won’t Sapphie be going with you?”
Issy shook her head. “She’s got a couple of big new business pitches coming up, so she’s flying out to Chicago later tonight and won’t be back for a few weeks.”
J.B. bit back a sigh. “Maybe I could spare an hour or two.”
“Only if you’re sure. It’s not—” She gave him a sheepish smile.
“I am.”
The gratitude in her expression was worth it. And it was only a shopping trip. Nothing between them had changed, he tried to reassure himself. Somehow he wasn’t convinced.
* * *
“I THOUGHT YOU preferred the four-in-one convertible crib.”
Why did J.B. have to challenge every choice she made?
Issy knew he was trying to be helpful. She really appreciated the time he’d spent traipsing from baby store to furniture store to department store with her—especially as she’d steeled herself for him canceling. And, to his credit, though he’d initially looked like he was facing a root canal without anesthetic, he’d valiantly helped her navigate the vast array of baby items on offer; from bassinets and dressers to baby monitors and diaper disposal units.