And that didn't make sense. They weren't together. What they had shared—it had simply been one night. Nothing more. She owed him nothing. And he owed her nothing.
Except now they were going to have a baby—together. Maybe.
Could that explain the unwelcome flash of jealousy? Maybe. He wished he could talk to Aaron about it, but there wasn't any time—they were lining up to head back out to the ice for the second period.
And Travis suddenly wished Cara was here to watch. Yes, they were losing, but he still wished she was here. The idea of having someone in the stands watching him, cheering him on, filled him with a sense of belonging. He had almost asked her if she wanted to come to the game. Yesterday, when they had met for coffee. But it hadn't been the right time. How could he ask her when she had been so visibly upset? Cautious and guarded? When they had been talking about something so much more important.
But he had still wanted to ask, had been so close to getting the words out. He'd been afraid she'd tell him no, afraid she'd tell him she had other plans.
Afraid she'd tell him she wasn't interested—not just in coming to the game, but in him. That she didn't want anything to do with him. Could he blame her? Could he really expect anything different? They didn't know each other. He had to keep reminding himself of that fact.
They didn't know each other.
She owed him nothing.
That didn't stop this sudden need to see her. Be with her. The same need that had been growing inside him ever since she'd told him she was pregnant. Before then, even, if he was honest with himself.
He should have called her sooner. Should have made his way through those numbers in his phone until he found hers so he could make arrangements to see her again. To ask her out. To get to know her. He liked her—had liked her from the minute he saw her standing in the corner of Mystic's with a few of her friends. She had glanced over, did a quick double-take when she caught him staring, then quickly looked away from his gaze. A few minutes later, she had shyly looked over again, the barest of smiles curling the corners of her mouth. Thirty minutes later, he'd still been trying to work up the courage to go talk to her when she suddenly turned and headed his way.
Toward him. To talk to him.
And then he'd taken her home. He hadn't meant to, hadn't meant for their time together to be a one-night stand. But she had left before he woke up and he'd thought she wasn't interested anymore so he...
He chickened out. Convinced himself he only wanted the one night. No strings. No expectations.
He'd been an ass. And now she was pregnant and wanted nothing to do with him.
The feeling left him vacant and oddly hollow, empty except for the regret—and the need to change things.
No, it didn't make sense. Even he knew that. And if he made the mistake of telling any of his teammates that, they'd just laugh. Well, maybe not all of them but the single guys would.
And he had to put those thoughts out of his mind, clear his head of everything except this game. Here. Now. Tonight. He couldn't afford to be distracted.
Travis took his spot in the lineup and got into position, pausing to glance at the stands for a brief second. He closed his eyes, imagined that Cara was actually here, sitting up with Courtney and Noah and Savannah and Aaron's girls. With Jenny and Megan and Haley. He gave his head a quick shake then took a deep breath and opened his eyes, focusing on the ice in front of him. He bent his knees, leaned forward and placed the blade of his stick on the ice, his hands tight around the shaft. Ready. Waiting.
The puck dropped and Travis dug in with his stick, gaining possession and passing it back to Kyle. The other man spun and skated away, passing the puck to Harland just before colliding with one of the defensemen from Milwaukee.
Harland took off down the ice, Travis following him. Fast, furious, focused on gaining traction, focused on getting ahead. Travis glanced over his shoulder, saw one of the players from Milwaukee racing toward him, his head down, his left shoulder dropped as he prepared for a hit. Travis hit the brakes, spun around, and darted to the right, away from the hit.
He heard his name being called, looked up and caught the puck on his tape a second after Harland passed it to him. He spun around once more and darted behind the net for a wrap-around, sinking the puck into the net for the Bombers' first goal of the night.
He dropped to one knee for a quick celly, pumping his fist as Harland and Kyle and Zach skated in to congratulate him.
Travis searched the stands one more time, pretended that Cara was there watching him, cheering him on.
Pretended, just for a second, that they were really together.
Chapter Eight
Instrumental pop music filled the waiting room, pumped in through speakers discretely tucked into the corners behind lush potted plants. A flat screen television set hung on the wall, the volume just loud enough to be heard over the music. Short, five-minute informational videos were playing, discussing everything from the human reproduction system to what to expect during pregnancy to the benefits of natural childbirth.
Cara wished they would turn the television off. She didn't need to be tutored in the human reproduction system—she was pretty sure she knew exactly what happened and how. And the parts on natural childbirth simply embarrassed her.
No, that wasn't exactly right. They didn't embarrass her at all—but the man sitting next to her shifted uncomfortably in his chair each time they came on. Could she blame him? Travis probably hadn't expected anything like this when he had asked to accompany her to the doctor's appointment today.
To be honest, she hadn't expected it, either—not this full-blown submersion into the joys of pregnancy and childbirth and motherhood. This was the OB-GYN Anna used so Cara was expecting something a little more...neutral. More on the GYN side instead of the OB side. How did watching and listening to all of this effect the women who decided not to go through with the pregnancy?
Cara didn't know and she wasn't sure she wanted to think too hard about it. She was firmly in the numb stage—again. Or maybe it would be better to call it the denial stage, still not quite able to believe this was happening to her. When would it really sink in? What would she do when that finally happened?
She brushed those questions away then turned her attention back to the paperwork the receptionist had handed her when she came in. So many questions, not just about her health history but about the baby's father's as well. She would simply skip them—surely not everyone answered them, right? But she must have hesitated too long, or made a small noise of distress or something when she first saw them. Or maybe Travis had simply been watching her because he leaned over, gently took the clipboard from her hands, and quickly filled out that part.
No pertinent medical history. No family history of high blood pressure or heart disease or cancer. No history of drug or alcohol abuse.
He hesitated over the box for sexually transmitted infections and gave her a searching look. Heat filled her face at the silent implication. Oh God, was he going to check yes? Or worse than that, was he asking her if she needed to check yes? She looked away, letting the hair fall into her face as she quickly shook her head, almost afraid to see what his answer was.
No. He had checked no.
Relief shot through her, immediate and reassuring—until he leaned in close, his mouth brushing against her ear, his voice low enough so only she could hear.
"We should both get checked."
She was afraid to look at him, afraid to see the silent question in those smoky gray eyes. Logically, she knew he was right. They'd had unprotected sex, even if it had only been that one time. But it had been enough for her to get pregnant, which meant it was enough—
Cara couldn't even finish the thought, not when it was drowned by the embarrassment flooding her. How could she tell him he didn't have anything to worry about from her? How could she admit that she'd only been with one other man, and that had been two years ago? He'd probably think she was some kind of prude, th
e way Anna did.
She yanked the clipboard back from him, signed the paperwork, then hurried back to the receptionist's desk. The woman took the paperwork, briefly glanced over it, then looked up with an expectant smile. "I just need your ID and insurance card and any co-pay that's due."
Cara had already been digging through her purse for her wallet. She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip for a brief second as she pulled her license out. "I...I just wanted to pay for the visit out of pocket."
The receptionist gave her an understanding smile then told her the amount due for the visit. Cara hesitated again, wondering if the woman could see her shock, wondering if the woman could tell she didn't have the money. Not that much, not unless she put some on her credit card.
She was ready to ask if she could do just that when Travis appeared by her side, a gold credit card in his hand. He passed it over to the woman before Cara could protest. The expression on his face when he looked at her was stubborn and determined; the protest that had been building in Cara's throat died a swift death and she looked away, heat filling her face once more.
If the receptionist noticed their silent exchange, she didn't say anything. She handed the card back to Travis with a slip to sign, then told them they could take a seat until the doctor was ready for them.
Cara moved back to the upholstered chairs, trying to ignore the heat of Travis's hand in the middle of her back. She sat down, folded her hands in her lap, then leaned to the side when he took the chair next to her.
"I'll pay you back."
"No." It was just a single word but there was so much finality in it that Cara didn't bother to argue. From the hardened expression he gave her, she had the feeling arguing would be futile anyway.
Not that she had time to argue, because a nurse poked her head through a doorway and called her name. Cara rose then hesitated, tossing a quick glance at Travis. Should she ask him to come back with her? Or should she have him wait out here? She wasn't sure, could sense his own hesitation as he sat there, perched on the edge of the seat.
The nurse opened the door wider and gave them both a smile. "He can come back in a few minutes if you'd like."
Cara nodded then hurried toward the nurse. She followed the woman down a short hallway and into an examining room, where she was instructed to change into a cloth gown and wait for the doctor.
Cara went through the motions, neatly folding her clothes and placing them on the chair in the corner before climbing onto the exam table. The paper sheet crinkled under her, the noise loud in the quiet room. The nurse came back in, took her blood pressure and pulse and temperature, then disappeared once more.
So Cara waited.
And waited some more.
Her heart pounded in her chest, its beat increasing with each passing minute as the stress of the last two weeks settled over her. What would the doctor say?
More importantly, what did she want to do?
Cara looked down and placed her palm on the flat of her stomach. A baby. It still didn't feel real. It still felt like she was caught in that grayness between being asleep and being awake.
Caught somewhere between a dream and a nightmare, wanting to wake up but afraid of what would be there waiting for her when she did.
How long had she been sitting there, staring at that hand covering her stomach? Minutes? Longer? The door opened and she looked up, had to blink past the burning in her eyes to focus on the middle-aged woman entering the room. Soft blonde hair was pulled back in a careless bun; a few loose tendrils floated around a full face. Her eyes shone with friendliness and understanding as she closed the door behind her and took a seat near the short counter lining the wall.
She glanced down at the paperwork then offered Cara a warm smile. "Hi Cara. I'm Dr. DeLoskey. I understand this is your first visit. Did you have any questions before we get started?"
Cara opened her mouth then quickly closed it. Questions? She had a hundred questions but she had no idea where to start, which one to ask first. "I'm not sure. I—" She hesitated, her face warming as she looked away. "I guess I wanted to know my options first."
The doctor gave her a friendly pat on the arm then stood. "Perfectly understandable. Let's get some blood drawn first to confirm that you're actually pregnant then—"
"I took four at-home tests. They were all positive."
"Then it's a good bet you're pregnant. But we like to double-check. At-home kits are pretty accurate but there have been cases of a false positive before."
A false positive? Could that really be the case? If it was, and she wasn't pregnant—
Something slammed into Cara's chest with the force of a sledgehammer. Sharp, biting. With shock, she realized it was disappointment. But how could that be? These last two weeks, she'd been terrified about what was to come. Terrified of being pregnant and alone. Terrified of what the next few months might bring.
And terrified of what she would face after those months.
How could that even make sense? Why would she be disappointed?
She didn't have a chance to examine the emotion because the doctor was still talking, explaining about the blood test, about the exam she would do after that. Cara simply nodded, her mind still reeling as the nurse came in and wrapped a velcro strap around her arm to draw blood. She watched as the test tube filled with dark red liquid, blinked against the wave of nausea that made her stomach clench and her head swim.
Cara looked away, wondering if it was the sight of her own blood making her queasy or if it was something else. Morning sickness, maybe? She'd been fine the last few days but that didn't mean anything. Did it?
She winced when the nurse removed the strap from her arm, risked another quick glance down. But the needle was gone, replaced by a small square of gauze over the puncture site. Cara placed her fingers on the white square then looked over at the doctor. "How long before you get the results back?"
"Usually a day or two." The woman must have seen something on Cara's face because she leaned in and patted her arm again. "But I'll see if I can get them to run the tests today so you know this evening."
Cara nodded and tried to push the growing disappointment away. She laid back on the hard table, slid to the edge as the doctor draped a paper sheet over her waist before performing an internal exam. Cara tried to relax, tried not to wince at the intrusion as she stared at the mural on the ceiling and wondered again at the disappointment.
Then the exam was over and the nurse was helping her sit up. The paper crinkled under Cara as she shifted on the table, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she waited for the doctor to finish washing her hands.
The woman turned toward her, a warm smile on her face. "I'm fairly certain we don't need to wait for the test results."
"Does that mean I'm pregnant?"
"It looks like it. Maybe eight weeks along, if I had to guess."
Cara didn't have to count back, she knew exactly how far along she was, knew exactly when the baby had been conceived: eight weeks and one day ago, on a Saturday night. She placed a hand against her stomach and nodded. The earlier disappointment fled, replaced by calm acceptance as the realization of the doctor's words finally sunk in. Not just calm acceptance: there was a sense of peace, as well. A sense of rightness. She was still afraid, still worried—but the terror was gone now. And she knew what her decision was.
Had known all along.
"You said you wanted to discuss your options—"
"No. No, I already know what I want. I—I'm keeping my baby."
"Are you sure you don't want to take some time and think about it? Discuss your options, just in case?"
"No, thank you. I already know."
The doctor offered her another warm smile then settled back in her chair. "Then we can discuss what comes next. What to expect. But I want you to know, Cara, that there's nothing wrong with changing your mind. If you get home and decide you want to pursue other options, all you have to do is call."
"I won't change my mind."<
br />
Another nod, another warm smile. "Is the father in the picture?"
"He's out in the waiting room." It wasn't a precise answer to the doctor's question and Cara knew it. Did the doctor pick up on it? If she did, she didn't show it.
"Would you like to bring him back to discuss what comes next?"
Cara hesitated but only for a quick second before nodding. The doctor motioned at the nurse, probably telling her to go get Travis, then they sat there in silence. Waiting.
What would Travis think? He'd been so adamant the other day, asking her to keep it, reminding her the baby was his as well. Would he still think that way? Would he change his mind and run away when he realized this was all real? She'd told him she expected nothing from him. Would he take her up on that offer now?
The door opened and Cara looked up, her gaze immediately falling on Travis as he stood just inside the room. Tension coiled inside his lean, well-muscled body. His blonde hair, so dark it was almost brown, was mussed and messy, as if he'd been running his hands through it while he waited. His face paled beneath the stubble covering his jaw as he looked at her.
Waiting.
Wondering.
But it was those smoky gray eyes that caught her attention. Wide, filled with worry and anxiety, focused on her with a silent desperation that tugged at something deep inside her.
Cara tried to smile, felt it wobble on her face as her own anxiety spiked. She started to raise her hand, to hold it out toward him, then quickly dropped it back in her lap as she cleared her throat.
"Congratulations. We're having a baby." Her voice broke halfway through, the last words ending in a choked sob. Then Travis was suddenly beside her, his arms wrapped around her in a tight hug.
Holding her. Supporting her. Comforting her.
She gulped in a breath of air, inhaling his warm scent, then pulled away and looked up at him. His eyes shimmered with unexpected moisture and he quickly blinked, looked away for a brief second then turned back to her.
The anxiety in his gaze was gone, replaced by wonder. Replaced by what she hoped was happiness. She opened her mouth, ready to ask him if he was okay with her decision. The words never came because he suddenly leaned down and caught her mouth with his in a tender kiss that stole her breath.
Playing For Love (The York Bombers, #6) Page 6