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

by Mary Smith

  “There are my girls.” Remington comes into the laundry room.

  “Dad, we’re washing clothes.” Arabella beams. I can’t imagine many eight years olds are thrilled about this chore. “Ew, you stink.” She plugs her nose and glares at her dad.

  “I’ve been playing hockey all day.” He grins. “But I’m heading to the shower.”

  “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” I inform him.

  “I’ll be done by then.” His wink sets me aflame.

  Arabella helps me set the table and keeps talking about the dance steps she learned today.

  Just as I pull everything out of the oven, Remington comes down, freshly showered.

  “Need help?”

  “Nope.” I smile at him. “I’ve got it.”

  He grins and heads over to the table, letting Arabella tell him all about her day. I place the platter on the table and take a seat on Remington’s right. Arabella keeps the conversation going about her last day of summer school. I love how he hangs on her every word.

  When we finish, everyone compliments the food and Remington clears the table and loads the dishwasher. I try to help him, but he shoos me away. Arabella asks to watch TV and I let her while I go upstairs and change out of my jeans and shirt. I clean up and then head back downstairs to find Remington and Arabella curled up on the couch together. They are both fast asleep.

  I smile at the innocent sight they make. I grab a blanket from the hall closet and cover them up. Neither of them even stir, and I turn off the TV.

  I crawl into the bed and pick up my phone. I send out a few emails, ask Harlow and Meadow if they want to go yoga with me this week, and check some stock market investment final numbers.

  I’m almost asleep when Remington carefully comes into the room.

  “You were tired,” I say, letting him know I’m not asleep so he doesn’t have to be so quiet.

  “Those teenagers kicked my ass at camp today.” He eases into bed. “I told Keaton my ass better get some more ice time before our training camp starts.”

  I giggle. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

  He groans.

  I roll over to face him, and he mirrors my pose.

  “Tell me about your day. Oh, but first you don’t have to clean the house, Maxima.”

  “I don’t mind, and my day was okay. I cleaned, went to my therapy appointment, and got Arabella.”

  “How was your therapy appointment?” he asks softly.

  I know he wants me to open up, but he can’t learn of my past.

  “It was good,” I say simply.

  “Well…good…” he nods. “Your dinner was delicious.”

  “Thank you.” My body begins to hum.

  His dark eyes stare into mine. After a few seconds, he reaches over and strokes a strand a hair from my face. A shiver runs through me. I remember what Caryn said: Just listen to my hormones and my body.

  Both want him.

  Right now.

  The difference from last time is that I don’t have the liquid courage of alcohol pulsing through me. I’m not sure what to do first. Last time, I just stared at him and then stroked him. I can’t do that now. He’s staring at me.

  Kiss him.

  I’ve kissed him before. This shouldn’t be hard for me to do. Just lean in and place my lips on his. My heart races a bit as I lick my lips, and I do just that: I lean in and kiss.

  Thankfully, Remington doesn’t grab me. He places one hand on my arm and leaves the other under his pillow.

  Listen to your body.

  I push our connection a little harder, and Remington lies on his back. He now has both of his hands on my waist, and I swing my leg over his hips and straddle him.

  We both moan as I rock against his hardness. I can feel how wet I already am. Only Remington can do this to me.

  I want him on top.

  I tense up and pull back. Did I really think those words? Can I handle it?

  “Maxima, are you okay?” Concern is all over his face. His breathtaking face. His dark eyes, strong jaw, and kissable lips.

  “Um…” Good Lord, Maxima Keck, grow up. “I’m nervous, and I’d like to try something, but I’m not sure.”

  “Okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

  I know he means every word of it. He won’t hurt me. I roll off his hips and lay on my back. Remington rolls onto his side. I’m shaking with the anticipation of feeling him. I’m not scared just…nervous.

  “Maxima, please just open up to me. A little bit,” he begs. “Trust me.”

  I look up at him and listen to the voice in my head, telling me to talk to him. “I want to have sex with you, but I’m sure I can handle you on top of me.”

  He’s trying to hold back a smirk, and I know it’s because I said I want to have sex with him, but then he quickly grows serious.

  “I have a suggestion.”

  “What?”

  “How about I put my hand right here?” He places it on my stomach. “And I’ll remain right here.” He’s on his side, but right up against me. “If you want my hand to go somewhere particular, you move it. If not, then it’ll stay right here. Is that okay?”

  I nod a bit enthusiastically. He understands and I feel comfortable with him. He won’t push me. I lift up to connect our lips again. Remington keeps his word and never moves his hand from my mid-section.

  Listen to your body.

  My body is ready for his touch. I place my hand over his and pull it gently up to my breast. My body arches into his touch. Even through my shirt, he sets me on fire.

  He breaks from my lips and nibbles down my neck. I can barely catch my breath as he continues to my collarbone. I take his hand, and it travels down my fat, jiggly stomach to above my shorts. The thin cotton material is drenched, and he’s only turning me on more. And he’s not doing anything but kissing my skin.

  “Baby.” I rock against his hand as he circles my clit. The friction of the clothing is sending me into a frenzy.

  Listen to your body.

  “Remington,” I moan, lifting my hips.

  He needs to be in me. I have to feel all of him inside me. I start tugging at my shorts, and together, we toss them to the side.

  “You want me on top?” His question is raspy, and he’s breathing heavy.

  “Yes.” I don’t even have to think twice about it. He won’t hurt me.

  I watch as he pulls his shorts off, tossing them in the same direction as mine. As he springs free, my mouth salivates. The last time, I was still drunk, touching him had been a mixture of curiosity and sexual gratification. This time…I want him.

  “I need a condom.” He growls, stroking himself.

  Can he get any hotter?

  “You’re fine. I promise.” I can’t get pregnant, and I know neither of us has anything.

  He lines up with me and pushes in. When I was on top, it felt deep, but now it felt…right. Two puzzle pieces coming together is the only way I can describe it. Remington completes me.

  He pumps in and out of me as I grip his shoulders tightly. I even wrap my legs around his hips. I need him deeper, harder, faster.

  “Baby,” I’m not sure why I keep calling him baby, but it feel right from my lips. “Harder.”

  Remington complies and slams into me. His grunts in my ears almost bring a sense of serenity to me. I’m having sex with Remington, and he’s on top of me. I’m not scared or having a panic attack. I want this, and I’m okay.

  The wave of the orgasm slams into me, and my body shakes. Remington finds the same satisfaction. He collapses on me, and the sounds of our erratic breathing fill the room.

  “Am I hurting you?” He kisses my cheek.

  “No.” And he isn’t either. I welcome his weight and warmth.

  He pulls out of me and rolls on his back, taking me with him. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his thumping heartbeat.

  I’m safe in his arms.

  He really is my hero.
>
  I let Remington sleep in as I crawl out of his arms in the morning. I slept in his arms all night, and I had no nightmares. I didn’t even take my sleeping pill.

  I wake up Arabella and tell her we’re going swimming today. Well, she is, I’m going to yoga and spin class. I’ve been slacking on my exercising and even though I’ve not been eating a lot, I need to get back on track.

  We’re almost done with breakfast when Remington appears in the kitchen. How is it possible for him to look even hotter than last night? Flashes of our night make me blush.

  “Good morning, ladies.” He kisses the top of Arabella’s head and my cheek.

  Oh, how I want to have sex with him again.

  “Dad, we’re going swimming,” Arabella announces. “Are you coming?”

  “Not today, honey. I have an appointment and I have to help with the last day of hockey camp. How about we have chicken wings tonight?” He compromises.

  “Sounds good,” she agrees and takes her bowl to the sink.

  “Arabella, go pack your swimsuit and a towel, okay?”

  “Okay, Mom.” She races out of the room.

  I look over at Remington. “That’s the second time she’s called me Mom.”

  “I know.” He nods. “Do you want me to talk with her?”

  “No, I’ll do it.” I sigh. “I don’t want her to get confused.”

  “She’s eight. I think she’s aware of what she’s doing. Rickie sure as hell hasn’t been a mom to her like you have been.”

  “I know, but…” How can I say it? If Remington doesn’t keep Arabella, I’ll just be crushed. I’m protecting myself as much as her. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Okay.” He tugs on my arm to pull me up, and he wraps his arms around me.

  Immediately, I relax against his strong frame. “You sure you don’t want me to go to the lawyer’s with you?”

  “Nah, go have fun, and I promise to tell you everything he says.”

  “Okay.” I give him a soft, swift kiss on the mouth. “We’ll see you later.”

  Yoga is exactly what I needed right now. The induced calming effect helps me center myself. My relationship with Remington is messed up, but in a good way. He brings the confidence out of me. I see a fat girl in the mirror, but he sees something else.

  Beauty.

  Am I beautiful?

  No. Well, maybe. I’ll never be a Victoria Secret model, I know that much.

  Last night, his touch gave me courage to do more with him and my body. Maybe next time, I’ll take off my shirt. The first time I didn’t wear a shirt, but the alcohol had made me hot. Last night, Remington did only what I asked of him.

  After yoga finishes up, I go to the pool and check on Arabella. She seems fine, splashing around with a few other girls. I leave her there and head up to the second floor to the spin class only to find Harlow there.

  “Hey girl.” She smiles.

  “Hi.” I hop on the bike next to her. “I figured you were working.”

  “Nah, Dacey needed to do some wedding planning stuff. Since Keaton is helping at the camp, I figured I’d take a day off.”

  “I received Dacey’s invite. She must be getting excited.”

  “Not really.” Harlow shakes her head. “Arranged marriages are super strange. Her mom is planning it all, but makes Dacey go with it to all the meetings.”

  “Really?”

  “She didn’t even pick her own dress.”

  I gasp. “Well, that sucks.”

  “I still find it all…weird.”

  “But it’s their tradition.” I defend, even though I don’t understand it all either.

  Dacey and Vance are both terribly nice people but are rooted in deep religious roots. One tradition their families hold tight to is arranged marriage. When the Bears drafted Vance, Dacey moved to the States with him, bringing her sister and brother-in-law, because they’re not allowed to be alone together.

  Very strange.

  “How are things with Remington? Since you’ve been ignoring me and Meadow. I’m living vicariously through Keaton.” She glares at me.

  “I’ve sent you texts.”

  “None about what’s going on.”

  If looks could kill, Harlow would be a serial killer. She has a glare and stare down that will make one whimper in a corner.

  I lean close to her, without falling off my bike. “We had sex,” I whisper.

  “What?” she yells, causing some people to turn around. “What?” she gasps again.

  “We did. Twice.” I hold up two fingers like she doesn’t know what twice means.

  “Oh my God.” She jumps off the bike, pulls me from mine, and drags me out of the cycle room. “You have to tell me everything.” She continues to lead me all the way down to the juice bar where she buys each of us a bottle of water and sits us down.

  “You really want me to tell you everything?”

  “Yes.” She stares at me wide eyed and about to burst.

  I take a deep breath and tell her the entire story. Surprisingly, she’s quiet the whole time, listening intently to every word I say.

  “I can’t believe it.” She slaps the table. “Of all people, you’d be the last one I’d think would have sex.”

  “Why?”

  “I know you and he have this sham going, but I thought it was just a sham. But you’re falling in love. He’s obviously head over heels for you.”

  “I’m not in love,” I mumble.

  “Please.” Harlow rolls her eyes. “It’s written all over your face. You were practically glowing when you were telling me about your romp in bed.”

  Love?

  It’s impossible.

  “Well, I’m going to get Arabella and get home. She has dance class tonight.”

  “You’re in love. You’re in love.” She sings over and over as I head to the pool.

  Arabella is still splashing and swimming when she looks up and sees me. “Hi Mom.” She calls out, heading to the ladder.

  My heart skips beat. Deep down, I think it’ll confuse her calling me mom, when she has Rickie. But a selfish part of me loves to hear the word.

  “How about we get cleaned up and changed?” I hand her the towel.

  “Great.” She beams, waving at her friends, and we’re off to the locker room.

  After showering, changing, letting Arabella use a little bit of my lip-gloss, we are finally heading off. We run several errands together and then pick up lunch. Arabella makes the suggestion to take something to Remington.

  Are you hungry?

  I can’t promise Arabella he will answer me, but he does.

  Starving. Camp finished, but all us guys are still on the ice. Keaton’s trying to kill me.

  “Let’s go.” I smile at her.

  We order food for the guys and head over to the arena. The first thing Remington gave me, besides my engagement ring, was a family pass for the arena. It grants me access to just about anywhere.

  Arabella carries the small bag while I carry the larger one with all burgers. We head down the tunnel only to be greeted by Coach Taden Long. The man is truly the greatest coach in the league, and he’s such a nice man. Well, I think he is. Remington says he’s a bit of a hard ass.

  “Coach.” Arabella goes running up to him. It was at the end of year party where I’d been introduced as Remington’s fiancée and everyone met Arabella. Of course, everyone fell in love with her.

  “Well, hello.” Coach bends down to her. “What do I owe the pleasure of seeing this bright smile?”

  “We’re bringing lunch,” Arabella happily tells him.

  “There’s plenty, Coach,” I add. I notice he has a large knot on the side of his forehead and a fading black eye.

  “Were you playing hockey?” Arabella points to his injuries.

  Coach shakes his head. “I have two left feet and tripped.” He explains away the bruises. “You have fun.” He smiles before walking…well…limping away from us.

  Coming through the player’
s tunnel, even now, my breath is still taken away by the vast beauty of the arena.

  Yes, beauty.

  The ice is pure white with the massive logo of the New Hampshire Bears in the middle. The arena chairs are yellow and brown in a pattern to repeatedly spell out Bears.

  On the ice is a slew of Bears. Kyson, Keaton, and Remington are jabbing at each other on one end. Then there is Captain Hamilton Baer. He’s a beast on the ice, and I’ve never seen him smile. Ever. He’s also the biggest player in the league. He’s six foot eight and over two hundred and thirty pounds. All muscle. However, he’s a southern boy and extremely polite. Because I’ve always been a hockey fan, I knew Hamilton was drafted by the Alabama Blacksmiths, but left after a couple season and came here. He lives and breathes hockey. Remington told me he never has a girlfriend and never goes out or parties unless it’s mandatory.

  In the center of the ice is Cabel Dirks. He’s the oldest player on the team at thirty-two, but he shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. He’s with Bas Zorn, the rookie. The Bears signed this kid almost as quickly as they did Vance. Bas comes from London, and I’ve only met him once, when he came with Cabel to introduce himself to Remington. I just wanted to stand there and let him talk the whole time.

  There’s something about those accents.

  On the other end of the ice…more Bears. Edgar Hopp is one of the few members who’s married. I met his wife, Greer, at the party. They’re deeply in love and have been married since nineteen. They’re the perfect family with their two kids. I yearn for someone to love me the way those to do.

  With Edgar is Dag Limon. He seems like an overall nice guy, but still single. Remington told me he has twin sons, but can’t seem to keep a woman. But, he’s nice to me.

  Last on the ice is Alden Brockman. Alden is the jokester and prankster of the team. He cracks jokes all the time, and the couple times I’ve met him he’s made me double over in laughter. He takes nothing serious. He’s also the player of the teams. He’s never with the same girl twice, according to Remington.