“That’s Drew.”
That was all I needed to say. They knew all about him. Did they also know about what had happened between my mum and me?
Yes. Erin had decided her parents would adopt me like they had unofficially adopted Kelsey and her brother when their parents died.
She was kidding of course—about all of it.
But it was the thought that counted.
“Is there something wrong with him?” Erin asked, eyes wide, as if she was expecting me to announce he was an ax murderer—of chocolate bunnies.
I laughed. The women at the next table winced. “There’s nothing wrong with him. Not as far as I know. I was just never interested. That’s all.” Of course, back then he hadn’t looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ.
“So you’re planning to get together with him to reminisce?” Erin asked.
I chuckled. “You make me sound old. And sure, why not? It’s not like we’re going out on a date. I’m currently with Josh.”
As you might have guessed from the sexts, we were still boyfriend-slash-girlfriend. Other than when the team was away on a road trip, he and I slept together. Every. Single. Night. Surprised? Don’t be. I’d given him a key to my apartment last month so he could join me in my bed after his home games. Usually I was asleep by then, but I was always happy for him to cuddle me awake.
What’s the best way to deal with an adrenaline overload?
Hot. Steamy. Sex. Lots of it.
And I had to say the sacrifice on my part was well worth it.
But that was as far as things had progressed between us. There had been no discussion of moving in together once Noah was born. I had even tried bringing it up once—but when he began acting like someone who had sat naked on a red ants’ nest, I’d dropped it.
So why couldn’t I go out with Drew—as a friend?
It wasn’t like I was cheating on Josh—which I would never do.
“When did you and Josh want to do the prenatal photos?” Kelsey asked after the waiter had taken our order. The pictures she had taken of a pregnant Erin and Erin’s husband were gorgeous.
I removed my phone from my purse to check the Rock’s schedule and came up with three possible dates next month that worked for Kelsey. I sent Josh a text.
He responded a minute later. What are prenatal photos? Is that where you’re naked?
I smirked. Josh had a thing about seeing me naked.
Not necessarily. I was thinking something we wouldn’t scar Noah for life with.
So with clothes on?
Yes, the clothes stay on.
Can they come off afterward?
Once we’re alone—yes.
Can’t wait!
He told me which dates worked best for him, then a moment later sent another text. And you know what else I can’t wait for?
Watching me eat crackers and ice cream?
Don’t ask—I had abandoned fries and ice cream months ago. It took forever for Josh to quit laughing at me every time I scooped the crackers into the ice cream. Which, I might add, required talent to do without breaking them in half.
Seeing you naked. Making you come. Being inside you.
The ache between my legs seconded that, temporarily forgetting none of this would happen for three more days.
Me: Make that two of us :)
“What are you up to?” Erin asked, laughter in her tone. “Sending sexts to Josh?”
My face played traitor and both Erin and Kelsey laughed. “Are you telling me you two don’t send sexts to Darren and Trent?”
Erin scowled at Kelsey. “Don’t even answer that question.”
Kelsey laughed. Trent—the love of Kelsey’s life—was Erin’s brother.
But Kelsey didn’t have to answer. Her eyes and light blush gave it away.
Then a moment later, the blush deepened when her phone chimed and she read the text.
And while she typed her reply, I counted down the minutes until Josh was home again, doing to me exactly as he had promised.
Anyone know how to speed up time?
22
Josh
“Can you explain again why I agreed to this?” Trent said, grunting under the weight of the desk.
Confused?
Let me rewind for a moment. A few weeks ago, I came home from my road trip to a surprise. No, not the one where Holly was in nothing but my favorite black lacy bra and matching panties—although she had been wearing them at the time.
This surprise was six-foot tall, one hundred ninety pounds of muscle, with an Aussie accent. That’s correct. Wilfred the fucking Third had shown up in San Francisco, and Holly had agreed to get together with him for dinner while I was in Vancouver next week.
Before you think I was an idiot, let me first clarify something about men. Even when we aren’t jealous—we’re jealous. It’s part of the caveman gene you can thank our ancestors for. So even though I knew nothing was going on between Holly and Drew, that didn’t stop the jealous streak from body-checking me.
What did this all have to do with Trent and the desk? Well, I’m getting to that.
A few weekends ago, Holly and I had gone baby-furniture shopping. We didn’t buy anything in the end because she wanted to paint the room first.
So while the girls were enjoying a relaxing weekend of spa treatments (all arranged by me…and maybe Trent helped a little), Trent, Travis, and I were moving the furniture from the spare room, cramming it into Holly’s storage locker, and painting the room.
And not just painting the room a solid color.
This was where Travis came in. While flipping through the baby magazines Erin had lent her, Holly had come across a design perfect for Noah’s room. The walls had been painted gray with two small eucalyptus trees on either side of the crib, leaning toward each other. Near the top of each tree was a cute koala bear. Neither Trent nor I could paint the design—but Travis could.
Now, some guys might go all caveman when they believe another man’s encroaching on their woman—even if he isn’t. Remember what I said about the jealousy gene? And maybe another time I would have done that too, but I also knew that wouldn’t impress Holly.
If anything, it would piss her off.
So instead of being an asshole caveman, I’d decided to surprise her with the early Christmas present of the spa weekend and her dream baby room. The white furniture was sitting in the living room, still in its boxes, waiting for it to be assembled. Which was exactly what Trent and I would be doing while Travis painted the trees and koalas.
Impressed? I thought so.
“You agreed to help me because you’re a great guy that way—and you know I’m right. Kelsey will think you’re the best boyfriend ever for giving her this weekend, and you’ll get the best sex of your life tomorrow night.”
Here’s some free advice, ladies. Men will do anything for great sex. Want me to repeat that in case you missed it the first time? Nothing motived a guy more than the promise of sex so awe-fucking-inspiring, he would be seeing stars for a week.
“Hey,” Travis said, “I don’t get any sex out of this deal.”
I raised an eyebrow, partly because of his comment—and partly because while Trent and I were carrying the heavy desk, he was carrying a box containing the contents of said desk. “It’s not like you have any issues getting laid,” I huffed.
He smiled an evil grin. “Are you saying you two men, who have girlfriends, have issues getting action between the sheets?”
“I don’t have issues getting laid,” Trent grumbled as we squeezed the desk through the doorway. “And sex with Kelsey is already great.”
“Then you’re doing this because Holly is your friend, and you want to make your friend happy,” I pointed out—swooping in for the overtime win.
Several hours later, the furniture in the spare room had been relocated, and the two coats of paint had been applied.
I surveyed the result, making sure there was nothing that needed fixing or redoing. The three o
f us were standing in the room, beer in hand. Pizza was on the way. Even though Holly wasn’t here, I planned to spend the night in her apartment, to get an early start on the decorating.
“So, what exactly is the deal between you and Holly anyway?” Travis asked.
“She’s the mother of my unborn child and my girlfriend.” No new revelation there.
“I get that. But you two will be parents soon, and you’re still living on the other side of the city, with no interest in giving up your apartment.”
As Holly had mentioned a few weeks ago—although a lot more subtly than Travis. He was more like the bull in the china shop. The bull who’d had his nuts kicked.
“I happen to like my apartment.” Even if I didn’t spend much of my time there these days.
Truth? Knowing I still had my apartment was a safety net. A way to keep my heart safe. I’d already been let down by two people who were supposed to love and protect me, and they had walked away. At least this way I had a place to go if that ever happened again—just replace my parents with Holly.
“I agree. It’s a great apartment. But that’s not my point.”
“What is your point?”
He exchanged looks with Trent as if to say, “Hey man, you’re the one with the girlfriend. You explain the problem.”
“What are your plans for the future?” Trent asked. “Your contract ends in July and then you’re a free agent. What does that mean for you and Holly and Noah?”
And there you had it. Trent stating the piece of reality I’d been trying to ignore for the past few months. I wish I had a crystal ball to know what would happen come summer. Hell, I wish I had a crystal ball to tell me what would happen come trade deadlines at the end of February…the same time Noah was due.
Did players get traded near the end of their contracts? Definitely. Especially if the team’s star players’ contracts were also up for renewal. Especially if the team’s organization no longer saw a place for the player on the team.
I’d already been there once before, prior to signing with the Rock.
All a player could do was suck it up. Be a man. And move to the team that did want him—at least for the time being.
Which meant I had no idea what the future held for me when it came to my hockey career, Holly, and Noah. I had no idea where I could end up if I was traded. Would Holly even want to join me if it happened? She had a career here that she loved.
These were all questions the two of us had avoided discussing, always focused on the here and now.
“You do know she’s not a permanent U.S. resident, right?” Trent said. “She can only work here because of her job with Bristol Mathews. If she leaves it, then her work visa will be revoked, as will her green-card application. And if either of those things happens, she can’t work or stay in the country.”
The first night Holly and I had fucked, she mentioned she didn’t have a green card and could be deported at any time. But as far as I knew, only criminals got kicked out of the country, and Holly wasn’t a criminal.
“And if she can’t stay in the country…” Trent left that hanging, but I knew what he meant. If she couldn’t stay in the country, it meant losing my son.
It meant losing her.
Just the thought of that was like being the bull who’d had his balls kicked in the china shop.
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Travis said. “You have to marry her.”
I stared at him, unblinking. I cared a lot for Holly, but I wasn’t the marrying kind. Hell, I wasn’t even the commitment kind of man.
What if I fucked it all up like my old man?
And what if she goes back to Australia and marries Wilfred the Third?
A part of me, the selfish part, figured it was a great idea. I didn’t need a kid. I’d never wanted to be a father to begin with.
But another part of me, the larger part, didn’t want to lose my son.
“Shit,” was all I could say.
“I think it’s time you and Holly talk about what you plan to do,” Trent said. “You’re both my friends and I don’t want to see either of you hurt. But if you continue living in denial, someone will get hurt.”
And when it came down to it, he would whip my ass if I ended up hurting her.
Christ, if that happened, I’d whip my own ass.
“You’re right,” I said on a sigh.
“Right about which part?” Travis asked. “That I get to be your ring bearer—or you two need to talk?”
The corner of my mouth quirked up to one side. “I was thinking you’d do a better job as a flower girl.”
“Well as long as I’m the flower girl and not the groom. Not that there’s anything wrong with Holly, mind you. She’s gorgeous as sin, even with your love child in her belly.”
“You better believe she’s gorgeous as sin. And my son only makes her that much more gorgeous. My seed is that powerful.”
Trent snorted. “You better not let that secret out. Or else you’ll have lines of women outside your door, begging for some of that powerful seed. And Holly might not appreciate it.”
He was right about that.
Trent and I tidied up the paint cans while Travis sketched the mural on the wall.
“At least once your hockey career is over,” I said, grinning at the defenseman, “you’ve got a new career painting murals in kids’ rooms.” Which was a shitload more than I could say about my own post-hockey career options.
Here’s the thing about pro athletes. Most of our childhood was spent dreaming of one day going pro—like the players we idolized. Some of us went to college to get a degree, but even then, we weren’t thinking about a future beyond hockey. Even in college, I had been more focused on playing and impressing the scouts than thinking about what my degree would mean for my future.
What was my degree? History—with a specialty in European history and a minor in marketing.
Not exactly a degree high in demand, but I’d always loved history.
What did I plan to do once I eventually retired?
Not a single fucking clue.
My phone pinged and I checked the text.
Holly: Miss me? :)
I did—but that was nothing new. I’d gotten used to sleeping with her when I wasn’t away on road trips. But this was different. I missed just being with her and talking to her and touching her.
Only I didn’t mean in the I-want-to-have-sex-with-you-now kind of way.
I meant in the I-can’t-believe-you’re-having-my-baby kind of way. The miracle-of-life kind of way.
But this wasn’t what I told her.
Me: Definitely. Hanging out with Trent isn’t the same thing as hanging out with you. For one, he doesn’t look as hot in a black lacy bra and panties.
Me: And in case you’re wondering, he doesn’t look hot in the red ones either.
Me: But don’t tell Kelsey or else she’ll want to dump his sorry ass.
Holly: Ha! I’m positive Kelsey already knows he isn’t hot in anything but his underwear.
Holly: I mean other than when he’s out of them ;)
Did her saying that bother me—in that jealous caveman way? A little. But don’t blame me. Blame our caveman ancestors. On the other hand, I knew nothing had ever happened between Holly and Trent. Trent would never have crossed that professional line.
Me: How is girls’ weekend going?
Holly: I now have pretty toenails. And every single part of me is in happy heaven. I think I’m in love
My breath stalled in my chest at the last part. Did she mean with me?
And more importantly, if she meant me…how did I feel about it?
Before I could further examine this unsettling—yet not completely unsettling—thought, another text came through.
Holly: Sorry, dropped my phone. I think I’m in love with my massage therapist. In the most platonic sense, mind you.
Me: Remind me to give you massages ;)
Holly: I will! Thank you so much for thi
s! XOX
Me: You’re welcome. Enjoy! See you tomorrow.
“How does this look?” Travis said, standing next to the stepladder. On the wall was an outline, drawn in pencil, of the design that looked like the one from the magazine.
“It’s perfect.” And it was.
An excited thrill skated through me at how much Holly would love it.
Maybe more than she loved the massage therapist.
Two points for me.
And zero points for Wilfred the Third.
23
Holly
How many of you believe spending a weekend being pampered at a spa resort is relaxing? I mean, how could it not be—between the massages, the manis and pedis, the yoga, the facials?
But by the time Kelsey and I finally left the Wine Valley Resort early Sunday evening, I was ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the next month. Every time we had been about to leave, Kelsey checked her phone, then came up with something else for us to do.
But I couldn’t complain—it had been a lot of fun.
And I knew exactly how to thank Josh for the weekend—once I’d recovered from my exhaustion.
As Kelsey drove us back to San Francisco, I held the envelope with the prenatal photos she had taken last week.
Did you want to see them? You might want to grab a box of tissues first—or maybe that was just me. Those out-of-control hormones still loved playing the game Let’s Make Holly Cry.
Fifty points if I cried in public.
The first photo was black and white with me sitting on the park bench. My butt was near the front of the seat, a slight curve to my lower back, which accentuated the baby bump. My favorite part? Josh had been standing behind the bench and was kissing me on the lips. There was something sweet yet possessive about the photo.
And hello…hotness factor.
The second photo? Josh and I were both standing, with Josh behind me again. Our hands cradled my baby bump from above and below. It was both tender and sweet…and made my heart ache at how much we looked like a family. Even if Noah hadn’t been born yet.
Decidedly With Baby Page 15