The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3)

by Mary Smith

  I can see the love Maxima has for Arabella, and it fills me with pride. Now I need to show Maxima this is how I really feel; it’s not just a fake engagement for me.

  Arabella finishes her food and takes everything to the sink. “Max, are you taking me to school?”

  “I can today. Do you mind, Remington?”

  “Nope.” I kiss the top of my daughter’s head. “Wash your hands and face and then grab your bag,” I tell her, and she rushes off. “Thanks.”

  “It’s no problem. My first meeting isn’t till nine.” She brushes past me lightly.

  The small touch sends an electric shock through me. “What are you doing tonight?” I almost yell the question to her, making her jump. “Sorry. Sorry.” I rush out the apology. I try for a calmer tone. “I mean I would like to have dinner with you. Just the two of us.”

  Maxima stares at me for a bit. “Like a date?”

  “Yes. I want to go out on a date with you.” I stand in front of her, and my insides are shaking as her silvery-blue eyes search my face.

  “I’m ready, Max.” Arabella comes skipping into the kitchen.

  “Okay, let’s go.” She rushes away from me, grabbing Arabella’s hand and heading out the door.

  “Fuck.” I sigh. Why do I always say things at the wrong time?

  I push the three hundred pound bench press harder each time. Normally, I don’t have this much weight on them, but I’m trying to burn away my humiliation and anger. Of course, I’m angry with myself.

  For the past several weeks, I’ve been able to be around Maxima without causing her, or myself, discomfort. I try to do everything I can think of to make things smooth and easy for her.

  Now, I’ve screwed it up.

  “Dude, are you taking steroids or something?” Keaton Jaco, my friend and teammate, jokes as he helps me put the bar back in the cradle.

  “No, I’m just having a bad day.” I sit up, wiping the sweat from my brow with my t-shirt.

  “Tell us all about it, buddy.” Kyson Wick, my other friend and teammate mocks me a bit.

  “Fuck off.” I stalk across the room and yank the towel from the rack.

  When I bought this house, I knew the downstairs basement would quickly become a state of art gym. Yes, I could go to the one at the arena or get a gym membership, but I like the availability for me.

  “Hey, Rosin.” Keaton follows me. “You never snap, what’s going on?”

  “For real.” Kyson is behind him with the same concerned tone.

  “I’m a horrible person.” I rub my face hard with the towel.

  “Oh no, what did you do to Maxima?” Kyson narrows his eyes.

  “Let the man talk.” Keaton slaps his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as he thinks.”

  I take a deep breath, and instead of saying what I want to, I turn my back and head up to the kitchen, grabbing a few bottles of water for us. I sit at the table and they take the seats across from me. I try to search for the right words and finally just blurt it out.

  “I lied to Maxima.”

  “About what?” Kyson asks.

  Taking a big swig of water soothes my dry throat. “About my feelings.”

  “What about them?” Keaton questions.

  “What I asked Maxima to do this for me, I made it seem like a temporary situation. But since she’s been here, it’s been the greatest time. I’m falling in love with her, and I want to show her, but she’s only doing this as a favor to me. She’s not going to think I’m being sincere. I’m not even sure she likes me the same way.”

  “I don’t think you lied.” Kyson shrugs.

  “Have you learned nothing from your situation with Meadow?” Keaton shakes his head, mentioning the time Meadow left Kyson after she found about him seeing his ex-girlfriend.

  “I’m saying he didn’t express all his feelings. That’s not lying,” Kyson clarifies.

  “Again, have you learned nothing?” Keaton now glares. “Omitting the truth is the same as a straight out lie.”

  “I’m aware,” I huff. “But it’s not like I can walk up to her and say: Hey, I sort of lied about why I wanted to be engaged to you, but I hope you’ll still like me?”

  “Wait, what did you lie about?” Keaton tilts his head a bit.

  I have to tell them because if I don’t say it out loud, it may eat me alive. “I told her she had to be engaged to me and live here with us for me to get Arabella back.”

  They are both quiet for a few seconds. And then Kyson asks, “And that’s a lie?”

  “Technically, yes.”

  “What?” they gasp in unison.

  “My lawyer told me I had to show a stable home, but he never said anything about having anyone moving in or being engaged to them.” I leave my voice low and focus on my water bottle. When I finally glance up, both of my friends are staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

  “Are you telling us, you told Maxima your lawyer said you had to be engaged and living with someone. Then you convinced her to do so, only to now tell us it’s a lie?” Kyson depicts the situation perfectly.

  I nod.

  “Why?” they both ask.

  “Because I wanted to date her, and Arabella needed an amazing female role model.” I close my eyes and wait for their backlash.

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Keaton roars, slapping his hand on the table. “You’ve lied to all of us since the beginning. Let’s not forget Maxima turned her entire life upside down for you.”

  “You call me immature.” Kyson lays into me next. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard someone do to date someone.” Kyson almost repeats the same words as Keaton.

  “I agree.” Keaton jumps up from his chair. “She was already kind of dating you when you told her about your daughter.”

  “But I wanted her to stay with me, and I just said it without thinking. This morning, I actually asked her out, but she ran out without answering me,” I explain.

  “Gee, I wonder why,” Kyson smarts off. “She’s been playing housewife and mother because you created this role for her.”

  “I’ve tried to tell her a thousand times.” I sigh.

  “And why didn’t you?” Keaton sits back down.

  “Because if she leaves, Arabella will be crushed.” She wouldn’t be the only one either.

  “Dude, you’re so fucked.” Keaton shakes his head.

  “I know, but I told Maxima a year, and I think I could get her to stay with me permanently by then.” It sounds like the worst plan ever when I say it out loud.

  “Rosin, I’ll say it again, that’s the dumbest thing I think I’ve ever heard.” Kyson speaks up. “You’re toying with Maxima’s feelings, and she’s a really great person.”

  For a few seconds, we’re all quiet. I know they’re right. I have no clue what to do or how to do it without hurting Maxima or Arabella in the process.

  “Listen, dude.” Keaton stands again. “I need to go.” He storms off, and I hear my front door slam a moment later.

  “Remington, Maxima’s a good person. Take it from me, tell her the truth,” Kyson says.

  I hate to admit it, but he’s telling me exactly what I need to do; I just don’t know how.

  “Dad.” Arabella comes running to me, and I easily catch her as she jumps into my arms.

  “How’s my girl?” I squeeze her tight.

  “Good. I had a great day.”

  “You did? Well, awesome.” Arabella had trouble when she first arrived, but it had to do with her mother. She was afraid Rickie would come and take her away.

  “I made another friend, and she loves the Bears, too.” She beams.

  “I like fans.” I wink at her before putting her in the car and making sure she’s buckled in tight. “I’m taking you home, and we’re going to have a coloring party.”

  “Yes!” My daughter cheers and claps.

  “I picked up a couple new coloring books today when I ran out.”

  She cheers
again, and on the way home, she talks about her new friend and everything happening in her class. I hate she has to take additional classes, especially since it’s not her fault. However, she seems to like them.

  When we pull into the driveway, we see Maxima’s BMW parked in the driveway.

  “Max’s home.” She rushes out of the car, almost stumbling on her own feet, as she races to the house.

  When I walk in, Arabella is talking very fast about her day. I study Maxima as she lovingly gazes at her, listening to her every word. Maxima loves her. I see it in her eyes. It’s the way a mother looks at her daughter.

  “Dad, I’ll go get my crayons and pencils.” Arabella runs up the stairs.

  “She’s excited.” Maxima smiles.

  “I told her we’d have a coloring party.”

  Her smile drops, and her eyes grow sad. “Oh, okay.”

  “Wait, Maxima, what is—”

  “Hello.”

  I’m cut off and turn to see Dacey Grion, Vance Pemberton’s fiancée. He’s another teammate of mine. “Am I early?” she asks in her thick Irish accent.

  “No, I’m sorry I thought we had plans, but…” Maxima shrugs.

  “Wait? What?” I glance between them.

  ‘You said you wanted to go out. Arabella has met Dacey several times when we go over to Harlow’s, and they get along,” Maxima explains.

  “Maxima asked me to babysit tonight. Vance is out of town this week with his brothers.” Dacey smiles. “I’m free all night.”

  “Dacey.” Arabella comes bounding down the stairs. I almost thought she might fly from the top. “What are you doing here?”

  “Um…” she looks to Maxima for help.

  “Maxima and I are going to dinner, and Dacey is nice enough to come over and watch you while we’re out,” I answer before Maxima can say something else. “Arabella, why don’t you take Dacey to the kitchen. I have the new coloring books on the table.”

  Arabella grabs Dacey’s hand and drags her to the kitchen. When I glance at Maxima, she’s looking back at me.

  “Listen, if you don’t want to—”

  “Stop.” I cut her off. “I want us to go to dinner. You ran off this morning, and I figured you didn’t want to go with me.”

  “Oh, no.” She’s wide eyed and shaking her head. “I…I…I was nervous.”

  “Why?” I step closer to her. She smells like flowers.

  “I’ve been here for a while now, and we pretty much keep away from each other.” She’s whispering.

  “I’m sorry.” I want to tell her right then it’s my fault because I can’t think straight when she’s around me. “It’s my fault, but I’ll change now.” It’s not the whole truth.

  “Nothing is your fault.” Maxima’s sad expression leaves, and she smiles. “I’ll get ready.” She lightly touches my arm as she passes me, headed toward the stairs.

  My heart races at her touch, and I watch her swaying hips climb the stairs. I take a deep breath and follow her up to get ready.

  I decide to go a bit semi-casual with dark jeans, a light blue button down, and a dark blue tie. I lace up my black boots and walk over to Maxima’s room. I knock softly and wait.

  She opens her door, and my mouth drops. Her long, black shiny hair hangs around her shoulders in soft curls. She has on a long red cotton dress and a blue jean jacket.

  “Remington, is this okay?” She tugs on her jacket. “I can change.”

  She turns away, but I grab her hand, stopping her. “Please don’t change. You’re stunning.”

  Her cheeks turn slightly pink. “Really?” She glances down at her dress. “It’s not too tight?”

  Maxima usually wears bigger clothes. It’s like she’s hiding her beautiful curves. This dress shows them off.

  “Maxima, you’re stunning,” I repeat and step up to her again, our bodies lightly touching. I know if I wrap my arms around her, she’ll fit perfectly.

  “I’m ready when you are then.” She seems almost breathless.

  “Let’s tell Arabella we’re leaving and go have an amazing date.” I lace our fingers together, and we head downstairs.

  Hooked Seafood Restaurant seems like the perfect place for us. It’s not overly fancy, but the food is five-star. I hold Maxima’s chair as she gracefully sits. I held her hand the entire ride over, and it felt right. When she rubbed my knuckles with her thumb, shivers ran through me each time.

  “People are staring,” Maxima whispers.

  “Because they’re jealous that I’m with the best looking woman in the world,” I flirt and she looks through her lashes at me.

  The waitress comes over, and I ask Maxima to order the wine. I’m more of a beer guy, but she’s knowledgeable, and I trust her.

  “Red or white?”

  “You pick.” I smile.

  “Okay.” Her cheeks are pink again, and she orders a bottle of red.

  When the waitress leaves, I pick up the menu and begin glancing over the items. The waitress comes back with our bottle, and we order our food. When we’re alone again, I realize I’m the one who’s nervous.

  This is our first date.

  I’m not counting Valentine’s Day because it was a disaster. This time, it’s going to be different.

  “You know, we don’t know a lot about each other.” I sip from the wine glass. “Something we should change, don’t you think?”

  She nods. “What do you want to know?”

  I hear the anxiety in her voice. She’s so shy, but there are moments she’ll break away and she seems comfortable with me. “Everything.”

  Chapter Three

  Maxima

  This dress is too tight. I should have changed; people are staring at my fat rolls. They’re all thinking: Why is this fat girl with a hot, delicious man? Their eyes are full of pity for Remington.

  But we’re here, and he’s calling it a date. Then again, I’m not sure how to classify this dinner or our status. By all accounts, we’re engaged and a family. I’m sure he’s only taking me out for appearances.

  Get to know me?

  Must be custody issues. We should know a lot about each other, in case it comes up during the case.

  “Well—” I take a drink of wine. “I graduated from Boston College with a business degree and a minor in international finance. I was sought after by a lot of big companies, but when I came to Manchester for a visit to Woods, Jackson, and Brooks, I fell in love with the city and took the job they offered.” That seems to sum it up nice and sweet.

  “What else?”

  “Oh, um, well,” I try to think of any details I left out. “If you haven’t figured it out, I’m quiet boring, and I’m a loner. Meadow and Harlow are the only friends I have.” I shrug, hoping he doesn’t ask anything else and doesn’t think I’m too pathetic.

  “You’re not boring, Maxima.” He shakes his head. “I’m sure there’s much more than just that to you. You don’t have a New England accents, so where are you from?”

  My heart races, and I place my shaking hands in my lap, hiding them from view. “Vegas. I’m originally from Las Vegas.”

  Please don’t let me cry.

  “Really? You never said before. What about your parents? Or siblings? I don’t think you ever mention family.”

  Because I hate them all.

  “I don’t have a family.” I look away from him and pray he doesn’t ask anything else on that topic.

  “Oh, well, okay.” He sits a little taller, and I can feel his eyes on me. “You know about my parents, who you’ll meet soon. Plus my sister, Cora, and I’m hoping you two can meet when she’s on leave. I grew up in Washington DC; Dad worked for the Pentagon, Mom for JAG, and of course, Cora’s still in the Army. But I think I told you all this already.”

  I smile at him. He told me a while ago about his family. They’re all very proud of each other and their accomplished careers.

  “They all sound wonderful.”

  “I really can’t wait for you to meet them all.�
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  “How did you meet Rickie?” I’m sure proper etiquette is not to bring up your date’s ex-wife, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.

  “Young and dumb seems to be a simplistic answer, but it’s also an immature one. She was what some would consider a hockey groupie. I met her at a party thrown specifically for girls like her to meet players. We hooked up and exchanged numbers and continued seeing each other. I was twenty-one and had just signed a big contract. I thought she and I really had something. A few months later she told me she was pregnant and I married her. Then it all went to hell. She drained my bank account with designer clothes, cars, and jewelry. When Arabella came, I thought I was going to have to declare bankruptcy; instead, I divorced her and closed all my accounts. Then I found out about she was doing drugs and drinking around Arabella, and I began my fight for custody. And now here we are.”

  I didn’t know the entire situation, but now I understand him better. I knew of Rickie’s kind. She’s more like her than I care to admit. I’m just glad Arabella has been removed from her care and is with Remington. I’ve really fallen for Arabella. She captured my heart the first day we met. Even when I look into Remington’s dark eyes, I know I could drown in them, easily giving him my heart.

  This isn’t real love.

  I need to remind myself of this. I can’t get too far into this. I won’t be able to pull myself out if I do.

  “Have you ever been married or engaged before?” Remington asks.

  “No.” Talking about my past relationships can be summed up quickly.

  There are none.

  “It’s probably rude to ask how many guys you’ve been with.”

  How can I say it wasn’t willingly? “Probably.” I can barely hear myself.

  Thankfully, our food comes then, and the conversation dies. I don’t want to talk about my past, sex, or anything of that nature. But I’m almost certain Remington will want to remain on these topics.

  I can’t deal with it.

  “Are there any foods you don’t like?” Food seems like a safe topic.

  “I’m not a fan of mushrooms or peas.”