by Debbie Mason
No doubt Sawyer’d have their child on skates as soon as he or she could walk. He’d taught Jill to skate when she was ten. Even as a teenage boy he’d shown signs of the man he’d become. He never got frustrated with her no matter how many times she fell or how many times her Flaherty temper erupted because she couldn’t get it right the first time. He’d just laugh and tease her out of her mood. She smiled at the image of the three of them skating together. It was a nice thought, a happy thought. Much better than the ones she’d had in the middle of the night and this morning.
She pulled open the door and walked through the lobby, getting a whiff of popcorn and cotton candy from the concession stand to her left. Her stomach rumbled. She’d forgotten to eat. Something that would have to change now that she was eating for two. She was tempted to grab some popcorn, but decided against it. It wouldn’t look very professional if she arrested someone with a bag of popcorn in her hand.
A cheer went up from behind the half-glass doors leading into the rink. She pushed them open and glanced at the electronic scoreboard. The game was tied with fifteen minutes left to go. She approached the security guard, standing, watching the game at the glass. “I got a call there’s a problem.”
“Hey, Jill. Sorry to call. But I can’t get Brandi Dawson to leave. Ref’s going to run the clock if she doesn’t get out of here.”
Jill grimaced. This wouldn’t be fun. She and Brandi had always gotten along okay. But since the night at the bar, and the day she’d walked in on the woman kissing Sawyer, there’d been an obvious chill in the air whenever Jill ran into her. If Brandi heard the news about the baby, she imagined her reception would be frosty at best. The woman wanted Sawyer, and she wanted him bad.
“What did she do?”
“Trent took a dirty hit from the captain of the opposing team. Ref missed it, and Brandi hasn’t stopped giving him and the player grief. And before you ask, language was foul, and she caused a scene. Referee kicked her out of the game.”
“So why didn’t you—”
“I tried. She refused to go. Said she’d sue me if I laid a hand on her.”
Jill sighed. Wonderful. “Okay, I’ll handle it.”
“Great. Appreciate it. Home side.” He lifted his chin to the top of the stands, then his eyes went saucer-wide. “Kid’s father from the other team is heading toward her. I better come with you.”
Jill had already clocked the father and was on her way to the stairs. She caught sight of Sawyer behind the bench wearing a black suit. His handsome profile marred by a fat lip. He had a foot on the bench and a hand on one of the player’s shoulders, talking to them. Jill was pretty sure it was Trent. Sawyer turned his head and straightened, then looked up at the stands before his eyes came back to her. She gave him a wry smile, which he didn’t return. His face was hard, a muscle pulsating in his clenched, bruised jaw. The man was clearly not happy. And some of that unhappiness appeared to be directed at her and not just Brandi.
Maybe Jill had been looking at the situation through rose-colored glasses. Her chest tightened as family outings were replaced with him not wanting to have anything to do with the baby, or with her. She pushed the thought away. This wasn’t the time. Brandi and the father from the other team were in a screaming match.
“Your son’s a goon. He’s not good enough to play in this league. All he knows how to do is hit. You teach him that, asshole?”
“Problem is your son’s a mama’s boy, lady. You teach him to dive so he doesn’t hurt his delicate self?”
Idiot hockey parents, Jill thought as she jogged up the cement stairs.
“Careful,” she heard a deep male voice call after her. It was Sawyer. But she didn’t have a chance to reassure him, or flip him off, because Brandi chose that moment to put her hands on the barrel chest of the six-foot man and shove him back. This did not surprise Jill. When a woman had been abused like Brandi had been, it was common for her to strike first. No one was going to get the best of her again. Be that as it may, the man could legitimately charge her with assault.
“Brandi, back off,” Jill ordered as she jumped over the bleachers to reach her.
But the man had already grabbed Brandi. “Keep your hands off me, bitch.”
Seeing the look that came over Brandi’s face, Jill lunged, shoving herself between them. She knocked the man’s hand aside, grabbed it, and twisted it behind his back. Not hard enough for him to feel pain, but hard enough that he knew she meant business. “Calm down. The both of you.”
Before either of them had a chance to say anything, the referee blew his whistle, gesturing that they were out of there, raising two fingers. “He can’t do that. He can’t kick me out for two games. Ref, you—”
“Brandi,” Jill snapped. The woman looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. And if the lip-curling expression that came over face was anything to go by, she didn’t like what she saw. “I won’t tell you twice. Get going.”
“Who do you think you are, Jill? Give you a badge and a gun and you think—”
Jill rolled her eyes and turned her back on Brandi, releasing the man’s arm. “Sir, the ref has asked you to leave. Frank”—she nodded at the security guard—“will escort you outside to wait for your son.”
“Me? What about this wack—”
“Look, if you want go to your son’s next game, I suggest you leave quietly. And I’ll be taking care of the wack…Ms. Dawson.”
He nodded, then leaned around Jill to look at Brandi. “Get some help, lady. You’re lucky I don’t charge you.”
Jill looked at Frank and nudged her head at the father, silently urging the security guard to get him out of there now. “Don’t say another word,” she said to Brandi when she glared at Jill and opened her mouth, “or I’ll arrest you for disorderly conduct. Now move.”
“Don’t think I won’t be talking to Gage and lodging a formal—”
She took Brandi by the arm and ushered her down the steps. “Knock yourself out.”
Two women whispered behind their hands when they hit the last step. Brandi whirled on them. “Are you talking about me, Leeann and Pam? Because if that was your kid—”
Jill tugged on her arm. “Stop it. Think about your son,” she said, lifting her chin at the bench several feet away from them. “Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed the poor kid enough?”
“How dare you!” Brandi said and shoved her.
“Do that again, and I’ll arrest you right here,” Jill said as she reached out to steady herself on the board. “In front of your son and his coach. Now move it before I change my mind.”
Brandi started walking, but kept talking. “You don’t have a clue what it’s like to have a child. Come and talk to me when you do.” She shot a nasty look at Jill over her shoulder. “Wonder how your kid’s going to feel when they find out you tried to trap its father by getting pregnant. Never works, you know. Not even with a man as honorable as Sawyer. That was really low, Jill. And I’m not the only one who thinks so,” she said with a pointed look at Sawyer as they passed behind the bench. “Trent honey, I’ll meet you at the car.”
Jill really, really wanted to arrest her. Even more so when Sawyer glanced at them and said, “I’ll bring Trent home, Brandi. Jill, call me after your shift.” The way he looked at her seemed to imply Brandi wasn’t the only one who had an ax to grind.
“I won’t be home until after midnight. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Jill said, and without giving him a chance to respond, moved past Brandi. She held the door to the lobby open. Brandi sashayed past Jill in a pair of painted-on black jeans, spike heels, cream sweater, and a self-satisfied smile on her lips.
She lost the smile as soon as she stepped out of the arena and came to an abrupt stop.
“What…” Jill trailed off when she spotted the reason for Brandi’s reaction. A white pickup, its lights on, was parked directly across from the arena doors. “Brandi, go to your car and go home. I’ll take care of Steve.”
* * *
“Don’t shoot. It’s just me.” Sawyer’s deep voice traveled on the crisp night air.
“I don’t want to do this right now. It’s been a long night,” she said as she approached the stairs, feeling both cranky and tired.
He lifted a takeaway bag from the Rocky Mountain Diner. “I brought you soup and a club sandwich. You have to eat,” he said as he stood up, the outdoor light above her apartment door illuminating his wind-blown blond hair and battered face.
She nodded. Her legs felt both heavy and a little weak as she climbed the stairs to reach his side. She took out her keys, glancing at his mouth as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing him inside. “Looks like that hurts. You should probably charge my brother with assault.”
He shrugged. “I’ve had worse. In his place I would have done the same.” He walked past her and put the bag on the table, seemingly unwilling to look at her. She felt the tension coming off him in waves. He wasn’t going to make this easy. She’d half expected him to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. His texts gave every indication that that’s how he felt, but maybe she’d misread them. She thought back to the look in his eyes at the arena.
She went to lock the door. Maybe it would be easier to say what she had to without seeing the anger and accusation in his eyes. “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose, Sawyer. I would never do that to you or any other man. But it’s my fault we’re in…I mean, that I’m in this situation. I forgot to take my birth control pills a couple times. I’m not even sure when. I guess because I haven’t been seeing anyone for a while…” She trailed off as he moved in behind her.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I heard what Brandi said to you. I’m sorry that she did. The thought you might’ve gotten pregnant on purpose never crossed my mind, Jill. Not once. I should have said something then, but it wasn’t exactly the time or the place. I set her straight when I brought Trent home. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Can you forgive me for not taking better care of you?”
She angled her head and raised her eyebrows. “Okay, first of all, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who said not to worry about the condom because I was on the Pill. I may have even threatened you with bodily harm if you stopped.” His mouth lifted at the corner and he winced. “Secondly, I’m almost thirty. And I don’t know why I have to keep reminding you and my brother that I am old enough to protect myself. Plus that’s pretty much part of what I do for a living. So can we stop with the guilt thing, please?”
“I’m guessing the ‘I’m a man and you’re a woman and it’s my job to protect you’ wouldn’t go over well, would it?” he said, a touch of amusement glinting in his hazel eyes.
She snorted. “Good call.”
He smiled, then his expression grew serious again. “And let’s get one thing clear right now. This ‘situation’”—he made air quotes—“is not yours, it’s ours. We’re in this together, Jill. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Don’t even think about fighting me on this,” he said when she opened her mouth to argue. “And not because it’s the right thing to do. I want to be.” He took her by the hand, tugging her after him. “Come on, let’s get you fed. Your stomach’s growling.”
She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. He’d said exactly what she needed to hear. Though maybe not what she’d wanted to hear, she thought when her vision misted. In her fantasies, he would tell her he loved her, that he was over-the-moon about the baby. And they wouldn’t be celebrating with soup and a sandwich. He would have swept her off her feet and carried her to bed.
“I’m just gonna grab a shower,” she said, forcing a smile before hurrying off to her bedroom as every one of the feelings she’d experienced since learning she was pregnant hit her. The last thing she wanted was for Sawyer to see her cry. Again. And she couldn’t use pregnancy hormones as an excuse. Even though she thought they might be to blame. She kind of hoped they were because this was becoming an annoying habit.
* * *
Sawyer watched Jill practically run from the room and forced himself not to go after her. The last thing she’d want was for him to see her cry. So far he was doing a lousy job handling the situation. First with Jack, and then with Jill. He should have told her he was happy about the baby. That he wanted to be a father. Because it was true. After the shock of hearing the news from Jack and getting a fist in the face—not that Jack’s reaction was a surprise—a small swell of excitement had filled him when it started to sink in.
If he’d been smart, he would have gone with her when she arrived to escort Brandi from the building. But he’d been furious with his manager and didn’t trust himself not to lay into her, and he wouldn’t do that in front of Trent and the other kids on the team. Half the time his players acted more mature than their parents. If Sawyer had his way, he’d ban them all.
But once Trent went off to play video games in his room, Sawyer told Brandi in no uncertain terms that unless she could keep it together, he didn’t want her at Trent’s games. It wasn’t the first time she’d pulled a stunt like tonight. Trent was a talented player, but there had been coaches who didn’t want him on their team because of Brandi. Until tonight Sawyer had kept that information to himself. But he’d laid it out to her. In part because of what she’d said to Jill. He’d nearly jumped over the boards when he heard the bullshit she was spewing. And he was going to make damn sure everyone in town knew that’s all it was. Even if he had to take out an ad in the Chronicle.
He glanced at his watch. It was two forty-five. Jill was probably beat. He should let her get her rest. They could talk tomorrow. As he grabbed the takeaway bag to put it in the fridge, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor at his feet. He bent down to pick it up, unconsciously scanning the contents of the page before he realized what it was. She’d covered both sides of the paper with things she had to do to get ready for the baby. Her fear and panic evident in every line.
Looked like he was sticking around after all. She wouldn’t sleep if she was worrying about this, and he could alleviate the majority of her fears. While he heated up the soup, he found a tray and loaded it up with crackers, the sandwich, and a glass of milk. She might as well eat in bed. When they were finished talking, she could roll over and go to sleep. He put the cream of cauliflower soup in a cup and placed it on the tray, stuck the list in the pocket of his jacket, then made his way to her bedroom. The shower had turned off ten minutes ago so he figured he was safe. He knocked on her door, then pushed it open. He nearly dropped the tray.
She scowled at him as she pulled the black sleep shirt the rest of the way over her head.
“Sorry,” he grimaced, then tried to make light of it, “but hey, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”
“What are you doing in my bedroom?”
He held up the tray. “You’re tired, thought it would be more relaxing for you to eat in bed while we talk.”
“You don’t have to take care of me. I’m not dying, I’m having a baby. Women do it all the time. They even deliver them by themselves, you know. Which, for the record, I have no interest in doing. And after hearing Mrs. Sharp’s story, the natural thing is out, too. So make a note to keep Skye away from me, in case I forget.”
He held back a laugh. He had the impression it wouldn’t be appreciated. It wasn’t often he saw Jill nervous, and right now she was babbling. It was kind of cute. “No Skye, and lots of drugs. I’ve got your back, babe,” he said as he put the tray on the nightstand, then held up the covers. “In you get.”
“Thanks,” she sighed, then wrinkled her nose as she got into bed. “What is that smell?”
“Cauliflower soup,” he said, placing another pillow behind her back and one on her lap before setting down the tray. “You need to start eating vegetables.”
>
“I knew you were going to be annoying.”
“Better a guy who cares than a jerk who doesn’t, don’t you think?” he said as he toed off his shoes. His chest tightened a bit at the thought of anyone other than him being her baby’s daddy. He wasn’t exactly sure why and knew it wasn’t fair. She deserved to be having a baby with a man who loved her; a man she loved. But life rarely went the way you planned. Besides, she was lucky it was him and not one of the losers she’d dated in the past. At least he’d make sure both Jill and the baby were well cared for.
“That depends on how annoying you become.” She took a tentative taste of the soup, then raised her eyebrows. “Not bad.”
He stretched out beside her. “Glad you approve. Now keep eating while I explain how we’re going to handle this. And before you accuse me of snooping,” he said, pulling her list from his pocket, “the paper fell off the table, and I picked it up.”
“Sawyer”—she went to grab the list from his hand—“that’s private.”
He held it out of reach. “Careful, you’re going to spill your milk,” he said, nodding at the tray. “Look, I know it’s private. But it has to do with the baby, and since the baby’s mine, too, it should be private to everyone but me.” She gave him a look. “Okay, I admit that’s a stretch. And I’m sorry for invading your privacy. That’s not really true. I’m glad I saw the list. You’re worrying about a lot of stuff that you don’t have to worry about. Like this one: If something happens to me, who’s going to look after my baby? First off, nothing is going to happen to you. But God forbid it did, I would take care of the baby.” He read the second one and looked at her. “Okay, this one kinda scares me, too. What do you think the chances are that our kid will be as wild as little Jack?”
She slowly lowered the sandwich she’d just raised to her lips. “I’ve lost my appetite.” She put the sandwich on the plate and returned the tray to the nightstand. She lay back down, turning on her side to face him.