Hard Checked: Ice Kings, #4

by Lynn, Stacey

  I’ve started looking for new apartments. The baby deserves more than starting his or her life living above a bar. When I’ve mentioned that to Sebastian his jaw tightens and he nods. But it’s not like I’m expecting to move in with him because of a baby.

  That’d be crazier than anything that’s happened to us yet.

  “You know the way to my heart,” I tease.

  “I hope so, Gigi. I really do.”

  My jaw drops. Before I can say anything, the tip of Sebastian’s finger comes into view as he traces my lips through the screen.

  I blow him a kiss.

  “I should let you go. Sleep tight, sweetheart, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. You too.”

  We hang up the call and while I get ready for bed and climb back into my covers, I repeat his last words.

  I hope so. I really do.

  Gosh. I might be falling in love with this man who’s going to be the father of my baby.

  I suppose crazier things have happened.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gigi

  I wake up to the soft snore of Bruiser curled up into my stomach and behind me, no Sebastian. He got home a couple days ago and I took yesterday and today off the bar so I can spend the entire time with him.

  Man, dating a professional hockey is not for the faint of heart. I don’t even know how he keeps track of his schedule, whether he’s coming or going, or how in the heck they don’t get sick from all their time spent in the air and adjusting to different time zones.

  And playoffs are no freaking joke. I’m already exhausted from the constant hustle of them and they still have so long to go if they keep winning.

  Which they’re doing.

  Because my guy is incredible.

  It might have something to do with his team, but I’ll give Sebastian the credit.

  I stretch, waking up Bruiser who loves to cuddle up next to me. He huffs and then bounces to my face where my first kisses of the morning are dog slobbers.

  “Hmm. These are not the kisses I like to wake up to.” I push his face away and sit up slowly. I’m learning if I move too fast in the morning, I get nauseous. Otherwise, besides the extreme exhaustion that makes me want to lay on any hard surface from three in the afternoon onward, I’m feeling pretty damn good. Granted, it’s only been a few weeks since I found I was pregnant so anything can change.

  Bruiser bounds off the bed, spins in his circles and trots off down the hallway leaving me privacy to use the bathroom and get cleaned up for the day. After, I go search for Sebastian, figuring I’ll find him in the kitchen or living room. Possibly his weight room.

  Instead, I find him in his office, doors open, Bruiser laying in the doorway outside. He’s dressed in athletic shorts and a plain white T-shirt, his hair a rumpled mess while he sits at his desk in front of his computer. Sexy. Like usual when I see him, my stomach tumbles and excitement spikes.

  He’s just so delicious looking.

  “Good morning,” I mumble. I go straight to him, smiling when he grins up at me. He pushes his chair away from his desk and holds out his arm.

  Good thing, too, because I’m cuddling up next to him whether he likes it or not.

  I slide into his lap and he adjusts, swinging my legs over his thighs so my side is pressed to him and my head is at his shoulder.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” I melt a little every time he says that.

  I kiss his throat. “What are you doing up?”

  “Getting some work stuff taken care of.”

  On his screen is a picture of a house. A gorgeous beach house given the ocean in the background. All white with eggshell blue shutters, it has a massive second-floor deck that looks like it wraps around the entire house.

  “That’s beautiful. What is it?”

  He’s kissing my temple when I ask and for a second, he falters. “Oh. It’s… it’s my house on Sanibel Island.”

  “You have a house on Sanibel Island?” My eyes grow wide as dinner plates and I glance at the computer screen, back to Sebastian, jaw dropping. “And it’s this one?”

  Sanibel Island is one of the areas on the coast where all the celebrities have homes. I can only imagine the people he sees out there.

  “Yeah. But I’m selling it.”

  “Whatever the heck for?” Leaning forward, I grab his mouse and click through photos on Zillow. And holy cow. It’s freaking amazing. I was right about the deck. But what I didn’t see originally is that there’s a massive, inspiring staircase on the other side at the driveway. It starts at two different sides, meet in the middle and then continues up toward two huge front doors, the same blue color as the shutters. Inside is even more breathtaking. I could live and die and never have to see another human being in this house.

  His hand is at my thigh, sliding up and down, making goose bumps pop all over.

  “Why are you selling it?”

  “Because it was mine and Madison’s, where we spent the off-season.”

  “Oh.” My hand drops the mouse like it bit me. “I see. That makes sense, I guess. Is it… is it because of the settlement?”

  “No.” He makes a sound that’s cold. I don’t ask him about the settlement, or the agreement and he hasn’t offered. I prefer staying in the dark when it comes to his now ex-wife and frankly, we’re not at a place where his finances are any of my business.

  Although a quick Google search a year ago tells me he has a lot. A lot, a lot. Like a number too high to count to in your lifetime, so the beach house shouldn’t surprise me. He has to spend it somehow.

  “She took very little. A modest amount. Hell, she makes about as much as my dad and it’s only for two years so she can get on her feet.”

  “Oh.” Seriously. What am I supposed to say? It’s so nice the woman who left you and broke your heart didn’t take you to the cleaners? “That’s… that’s nice of her.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Pretty sure that means drop it.

  “So why the house?”

  “Because I don’t want the reminder of her everywhere I go, this house is enough.” I’m not sure that’s the greatest thing I can hear. Does he not want it because it’s too painful? Like a good little ostrich, I stick my head in the sand.

  “I like the beach.” I can feel his smile, lips pressed to my cheek. “For real. This house is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’d sell my soul to see something like this.”

  “I like your soul. But if it hasn’t sold after the season, I’ll take you there. And if you want a house on the beach, we’ll get a different one.”

  We?

  My back straightens and I turn to him, smirking down at him. “You’d buy me a beach house?”

  “I’d buy you a house in the mountains or at the beach or anywhere else you want so you and I and our child can have somewhere to go to make our own new memories. Yes. All you have to do is ask.”

  Well… wow. I shift in his lap, feeling his hard length at my hip. And then the wetness and warmth at my center.

  God. This guy. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so sexual, but I want him. All the time. Maybe it’s the hormones. Maybe it’s the fact we don’t see each other every day and we’re still new.

  Possibly this moment could have something to do with everything he just said.

  Or… he’s just sex on a stick and a danger to my libido.

  “I don’t need a beach house,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his. “But I love Topsail.”

  “Then I’ll buy a house on Topsail as soon as I get rid of this one.”

  “You don’t have to,” I say, but the thought sends shivers through me. I’m dating a guy who can buy me a house. For fun. Is this really becoming my life?

  I quit thinking about houses when his hand at my thigh drifts to my stomach. He lifts the large T-shirt of his I threw on when I got dressed and dips down, straight between my folds and then inside me.

  “Oh.”

  “Gigi?”

  It takes a
hot minute to remember that’s my name. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t want to talk about houses anymore,” he says, kissing me, sliding his fingers in and out of me.

  “What house?” I murmur back.

  * * *

  “This is supposed to be really helpful.”

  “It looks like an egg.”

  I nudge Sebastian in the side and laugh. “It does look like an egg. But everything I’ve read so far tells me the moms love it. It’s a swing or a bouncy chair.”

  Sebastian takes the registering gun out of my hand and clicks two.

  “Hey!”

  “You want it, we’ll get it. Although I still don’t like the idea of registering. Or doing it so early.”

  “I know, but I figure when it’s time, you’ll be playing and traveling next season and with the bar going to be mine, the fall will be a crazy time.”

  “Yeah, but our friends don’t need to buy us stuff. I can do all that.”

  “Well then you kit out your place however you want, and I’ll have them buy gifts for me.”

  He scowls at me, and I take the gun. He’s been grumpy since we stepped foot into the baby store. And yes, I realize I’m out of my mind for doing this so soon, but everything I said is true. And Debbie thought it was a great idea. I can start a list now and add to it or change it, but it’s giving me ideas on how much space I’ll need for my new place or what I don’t need two of.

  “Come on. Let’s go look at cribs.”

  His grumpy attitude is putting a pall on my day and frankly, he’s the one who said we’d go together. I’m not sure what’s messing with his head today, but I’m over it.

  We reach the cribs and I start wandering, checking price tags more than checking the style. I need something for the baby to sleep in, not a fashion statement.

  Next to me, Sebastian runs his hand down the top of an elegant, cream-colored crib that looks like it belongs in a palace.

  “When is your next appointment?”

  His question comes about of left field. “Two weeks, why?”

  He looks at me, meeting me dead-on in such a way his eyes turn and I realize then what’s been bugging him.

  And a part of me is annoyed.

  A part of me hurts for him.

  He’s probably had trips to the store or listened to a woman become so excited and ramble on about gear and the like. This isn’t his first time talking with a woman about having a baby.

  I look away before he can see how much that hurts, even if it’s ridiculous.

  “I’d like to be there with you.”

  I nod. “Sure. I’ll double-check the date to see if it’s when you’re going to be in town, but of course you can come.”

  Walking toward another row of cribs, I’m no longer seeing anything but blurry floor and furniture.

  He trails the other side, and both of us go quiet. This is not the day I envisioned.

  “We should go,” I say, stopping abruptly. “There’s no point in being here. It’s too soon and early and well, dumb I guess.”

  He eyes me warily. “Okay…”

  “Okay then.” I spin on my heels and head toward the entrance where I stash the little gun back in the registry area and decline printing out what we registered for. Hitching my purse over my shoulder, Sebastian and I walk out toward the parking lot toward his car.

  “What happened in there? You were enjoying it.”

  “It didn’t seem like you were.”

  “Gigi.” He sighs and takes my hand and the last place I want to have this conversation is in the middle of the parking lot. “It’s early and it’s scary and I keep worrying something’s going to go wrong and we’re getting our hopes up here and well… yeah… that was a little much.”

  “Our hopes up?” My brows rise as I ask and he flinches.

  “Because you’ve had so many disappointments with Madison you don’t want anymore.”

  He gives me a look that both crushes my heart and makes me ache for him.

  “And maybe I’ve been kicked around enough when it comes to babies and pregnancies and hopes dashed that all of this… it just makes me nervous.”

  My frustration eases. I’m forgetting I have no idea what roller coaster he’s been on for the last few years. And I saw him in the immediate aftermath. I need to be more aware of that.

  He’s still healing, even if he’s moving on with me.

  “Everything will be fine this time.” I take his hand and press it to my stomach. There’s only a bump at night before bed, and it just looks like I ate a massive Thanksgiving meal. “I swear it. The baby is healthy.”

  His lips roll out and then in. “I also don’t like having to buy two of everything.”

  “Why not?”

  His hand at my stomach slides to my hip and he pulls me close. Too close for public. Still, my heart races. “Because I don’t like thinking of us doing this separately. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with our baby. I don’t like the idea of not being with you and him or her.”

  “Ohhhh.” Is that why he’s been so grumpy? Because I keep saying we need two of everything? But it’s so soon, and I haven’t considered when he said he wants us doing this together he meant together together.

  I’m speechless.

  “I’ll let you think about that some, until then, can we wait on all this gear?” He bends down and kisses the tip of my nose and brushes his hand over my stomach. “Sorry, I ruined your day.”

  He just sent my mind twisting and turning like an upside-down roller coaster. “You didn’t ruin my day.”

  “Good.” He takes my hand and guides me toward his car.

  Then he drives us to a local, traditional southern fried cooking restaurant where I gorge on all southern staples. Fried Chicken. Collard Greens and mac 'n cheese. By the time we leave, my food baby is making an earlier appearance except this time I know it’s the food.

  Definitely the food.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sebastian

  Game Three. Thirty-three seconds left. We’re tied at two and Las Vegas has a power play thanks to Fletcher losing his cool and getting called with a hooking charge. It was a stupid move and I know he’s already kicking his own ass for being sloppy. We’ve been holding off Vegas from scoring, but shit are we exhausted.

  Pretty sure after we won at home the first two games, we got cocky since we were able to sweep Buffalo in four. Jason and Jude’s little brother Joey is currently on the bench, but that doesn’t mean the trash-talking during this game has diminished with him playing a different line than us.

  He’s fucking fast. So much better than the last time I saw him play. I think he even surprised Jason when Joey was able to get the jump on his big brother.

  Still, we’re tired. My thighs burn. Sweat drips off my beard and down my cheeks. It’s gross, but I focus instead on the face-off at our end of the ice. Maddox has done an incredible job all play-off season so far, but even he looks tired, chest heaving as he braces his stick over his thighs while we wait.

  I want this win. If we lose, it’ll be hard enough to rally on the road but if we win, we know even if we lose the next one we head back home for game five with the advantage.

  Damn. My desire to win burns down to my fingers inside my gloves. In my chest. My head pounds from the blood racing through me and I grit my teeth, waiting while the ref holds out the puck.

  The Vegas winger jumps a millisecond too soon and the whistle is called, pulling us back to the face-off zone. I’m at the top of the goal crease, prepping to block anything to keep it away from Maddox. The wait is a killer, but when the puck drops again, skates and sticks go flying. Jude comes away with the puck, slapping it out to Mikah. He skates around Vegas’s center and passes it off to Jason. Right before Jason snags it with his stick to slap it across the ice, a Vegas player comes out of nowhere, stealing the puck and moving so fast around me I can’t even attempt to steal the puck from him.

  Shit!

  I hustle, try
to chase him behind the net, but he’s too fast and before Chauncy can get to him, he pulls back, aims, swinging it into the net.

  The buzzer and lights behind the goal go berserk but it’s not nearly as loud as the roar of the arena.

  Game tied with seven seconds to play.

  Damn it!

  When the final buzzer blares seconds later, I slap Maddox on the helmet.

  “My fault, man. Sorry.”

  “Shake it off, Hendrix,” he mutters, but he sounds as dejected as me as we skate off the ice. We have a short break. Then an overtime period. Not what we need. Not on the road.

  “It’s all right. All right.” Coach’s encouragement falls flat. He’s not much of a talker, but he stands at the bench as we skate off the ice, slapping us all on the shoulder as we hurry down the hall back to the locker room.

  Reporters are out in the hall, calling our names, but I shove past all of them. No way am I taking a minute to talk to them even though I know someone will. Hopefully Jude or Jason. They usually don’t mind. Tonight, I need my head focused.

  God. Damn, I want this fucking win and if that guy hadn’t just gotten around me, we might have pulled it off. Now we go into overtime, different than regular season, and we’ll play a full-length period until the first team scores.

  Vegas has scored first in the five of the nine periods we’ve now played so far in three games, so the odds are in their favor.

  “Fuck ‘em,” I mutter and plop down on my bench. Water bottles are passed out and I rip off my helmet to cool down.

  “That’s right.” Klaus holds out his now ungloved hand in a fist. “Fuck ‘em.”

  “I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud.”

  “Does not matter. We’ve got this.”

  “All right, Kings!” Coach enters the locker room, smacking his hands together. The assistant coaches fan out behind him along with the medical team and therapists. One goes straight over to Pierre, one of our second string wingers, and begins removing his skate.

  Shit. The last thing we need are injuries, even minor ones. I yank my gaze off that and focus on Coach, who’s giving all the same pep talk stuff he normally does, barking out commands for the line.