Coasting (Gold Hockey Book 8)

by Elise Faber

  “My Coop is a good man.” She pulled back, grasped Calle’s shoulders lightly. “But he’s also an Armstrong, which means he’s stubborn as hell. He would have worn down a brick wall, let alone a red-blooded woman.”

  Calle smiled. “He was persistent.”

  “Because he’s like my Daniel. Sees the treasure and holds on to it tightly.”

  Her brows drew down. “I’m not so sure I’m a treasure.”

  “That’s why he’s perfect for you, honey. He can see the treasure underneath all that protective wrapping.” She tucked her arm around Calle. “And when you’re ready, he’ll help you show that treasure to the world instead of hiding it.”

  Calle sniffed. “No fair. You’re going to make me cry again.”

  Doreen laughed. “Bring it on,” she said. “I’ve got plenty of experience with tears.”

  And so, Calle rested her head on Doreen’s shoulder, letting the tears come, letting go of the past and the pain, letting this woman into her heart, right alongside Coop. Because this was her future, and she wanted so much more for herself and her baby.

  “He’ll be there for you,” Doreen murmured. “We all will be. No matter what. That’s what it means to be an Armstrong.”

  She believed Doreen.

  Unfortunately, sometimes believing in something wasn’t enough.

  Seventeen

  Coop

  Several weeks had passed since Calle had met his parents and they’d flitted back down to San Diego, promising to return to the Bay Area for a visit before heading home.

  The meeting hadn’t started smooth, but it had ended with laughter and more hugs.

  And with his mom calling to check in on Calle every couple of days.

  And his dad calling to check to make sure he was taking care of Calle and that he followed through on the thing they’d discussed when they’d left his apartment to pick up takeout.

  It was brilliant.

  The perfect gift for Calle.

  The single thing he could give her that would erase the lingering doubts in her head.

  And it had come today.

  He held the package as he strode down the hall, glad they were at the practice facility that day because it was closer to Calle’s condo, and he couldn’t wait to follow up the gift-giving by spending some quality time between her thighs.

  Coop couldn’t get enough of her pussy.

  Thankfully, Calle couldn’t seem to get enough of him licking her until she came, either.

  He rounded the corner and approached her door, knocking once and then poking his head in carefully to make sure she wasn’t in a meeting.

  What he saw inside made his heart freeze in his chest.

  Calle was there, obviously just finishing changing—and damn, but she sucked at fucking door locks. She was in a pair of faded jeans, the button held closed by a hair tie, her breasts encased in a sports bra, a T-shirt held out in front of her.

  But that wasn’t what made his heart seize.

  No, his heart stopped working because of the blood.

  So. Much. Blood.

  Her eyes flew up to his, her arm reached out, face crumbling. “Coop,” she said, and then her knees give out.

  Later, he’d find out he’d shouted for help, rousing the offices next to him in seconds.

  In that moment, all he was aware of was slamming through the door, too far away to catch Calle before she hit the floor, the blood staining the material between her legs.

  Then Gabe was there, shoving him aside and issuing orders.

  Coop held Calle’s hand, willing her to open her eyes.

  But she just lay there on the floor, unconscious.

  A stretcher was brought in. She was packed off in it as he strode quickly alongside, never letting go of her hand.

  In fact, Coop didn’t let go until Gabe had to physically pry him away so they could wheel Calle back into the emergency department.

  Leaving him alone in the waiting room.

  And his woman fighting for the two lives that mattered most without him.

  “Cooper?”

  The voice came after many hours.

  But about forty minutes before, a nurse had come out to tell him that Calle been stabilized and would be admitted upstairs to the maternity ward. That was it. No details on her or the baby’s condition, just that she’d be admitted, and a doctor would speak with him soon. He’d switched waiting rooms at the same time, though he was no longer alone. A revolving door of Gold players had come and sat with him, not talking, thank God, but just sitting next to him, a silent support system.

  They were the only thing keeping him from tearing his hair out.

  Well, that and Mandy appearing, handing over a cup of coffee and then silently grabbing his free hand and wrapping it in both of hers.

  She didn’t tell him it would be okay.

  She was just there.

  And it was enough.

  At least until he turned and saw it was Dr. Holdings calling his name. She looked grim. Fuck. She. Looked. Grim.

  Mandy stood, released his hand, and nudged him in the direction.

  “Go, Coop,” she said.

  Dr. Holdings held out an arm. “Come on back, now,” she said. “Everything is okay.”

  He didn’t relax. Not yet. “With both of them?”

  A nod. “I know it was a scary situation, and Calle was lucky she was able to get here quickly. But things are stabilized now.” She ran her badge over the lock and let him into the ward. “You know her placenta was low according to the last ultrasound?”

  “The tech mentioned they would need to take another look.”

  “Unfortunately, it was lower than the technician realized. It’s why she had so much bleeding, but she’s feeling a lot better after the transfusion.”

  “Transfusion.”

  Dr. Holdings stopped and took his arm. “She’s okay. The baby’s okay.”

  Coop held his shit together.

  “Likely, she’ll need to deliver via C-section.”

  Okay, that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  “Also, she’ll be on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “Yeah,” Dr. Holdings said. “I figured that would be the more difficult part of this situation for her.” She pointed to a door. “Calle’s in there, probably sleeping, though she was trying to wait for you to come in so she could reassure you.”

  That made Coop’s lips twitch and he shook his head in disbelief.

  Reassure him?

  She’d been bleeding so much that she’d needed a transfusion, and she was trying to stay awake to reassure him?

  “Yeah, figured you’d have that reaction,” the doctor said. “Go on in, and I’ll be in later to check on her.”

  “Does she know?”

  Dr. Holdings nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I spoke with her just before I came out to get you.”

  Fucking hell.

  Coop lifted his chin and pushed through the door, expecting to find a devastated woman in the bed. Instead, he found a chipper one.

  That’s right.

  Chipper.

  She smiled up at him. “Coop!”

  He froze inside the door, unsure of what to do with this woman. He’d expected tears and sadness, instead he got . . . a wide smile and, “You look exhausted. Quick. Come here and let me tell you what happened so you can go home and rest up for the game.”

  The game?

  Fuck the game.

  He was somehow supposed to go home and sleep after seeing his Calle, his woman, the love of his fucking life collapse to the floor bleeding enough to need a transfusion, and then he was supposed to rest up for the game that night?

  No fucking way.

  “Coop.”

  He shook himself, crossed over to her, and sat in the chair at her bedside.

  “I’m okay,” she murmured, reaching for his hand.

  Nope. None of this was okay.

  “Baby, you’
re not okay,” he snapped.

  “The baby is okay. I’m okay.” Her expression was gentled. “I know it was scary to see me like that. I mean, I was terrified before—” Here, she faltered for a second. “I was scared, and I got to spend part of it asleep.”

  Asleep.

  A-fucking-sleep.

  Coop shot to his feet and paced across the room, trying to find calm, trying to find rational when all he wanted to do was yank her in his arms and hold on to her forever.

  But he couldn’t do that right in this moment.

  Because she was in a fucking hospital bed.

  “Bed rest,” he growled.

  So calm and rational weren’t within his grasp.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Doc said you were going on bed rest.”

  “I know, baby,” she murmured. “It’s fine. I’ve got a plan.”

  “You’ve got a plan?”

  “I’ve already cleared it with Bernard, just in this exact case.” A beat. “Not ideal, especially with playoffs starting in the next couple of weeks. Still, I’ll be able to watch remotely and talk through an earpiece to Craig during games and practices. He’ll relay the necessary information.”

  Craig was another assistant coach. Solid, but more comfortable with defense.

  Which wasn’t the point.

  The point was his woman was in the hospital, just woken from unconsciousness after having had a blood transfusion, and she was talking about hockey. About plans. About fucking earpieces.

  He dropped his chin to his chest.

  Control. Control. Control—

  “I’m okay,” she repeated.

  Fuck control.

  His head jerked up. “You’re not fucking okay,” he snapped. “You scared the shit out of me and scared the shit out of the team. You have someone else’s blood pumping through your body. You were unconscious for fucking hours. You—”

  “I need you to not freak out.”

  He threw his hands up. “How can I possibly not freak out?” He stormed to her side, glaring down at her. “I was worried you were going to die. Fuck, baby. I was so damned worried and—”

  His voice cracked.

  Fuck.

  He closed his eyes, sucked in long, slow breaths. “You didn’t see the way you looked. How pale and still. I thought you were dead and even if you survived, I thought you’d lose the baby—”

  A hand on his.

  “I know, honey,” she said. “I thought the same. I woke up and I thought she was gone—” A tear slid down her cheek. “But then Dr. Holdings came in and told me she was okay.”

  His breath froze in his lungs.

  “I thought she was gone,” she murmured. “And then I found out she wasn’t. So, she’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.” A beat. “It’s over, and we’ve got to move on.”

  She’d fucking lost her mind, right along with all that blood.

  “Did she tell you that?” Calle asked, squeezing his hand. “Coop?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Our little girl finally posed the right way for them to see she’s a she, and Dr. Holdings didn’t know that I didn’t know,” Calle said, eyes gentle. “So, she spilled the beans, and . . . we’re going to have a little girl, Coop.”

  We’re.

  Our.

  She continued talking while he absorbed that. Not the fact that the baby was a little girl, because he didn’t give two shits about that.

  Because Calle had said we’re and our.

  “And I don’t know what I’m going to do with a little girl. I don’t do pink or unicorns. I can’t braid hair or do a messy bun. I can’t even match clothes properly. I have to have the salespeople put them together in outfits and buy them that way.” He moved, bending toward the bed as she kept talking. “I’m going to totally suck as the mom of a girl. I—hey!”

  He’d shifted her gently to the side and crawled in next to her.

  “You’re okay,” he murmured, cupping her cheek.

  She nodded. “Yes, baby.”

  He carefully wound his arms around her and then tugged her against his chest, stroking a hand down her hair, down her back. “You’re really okay.”

  “I’ll allow this because you’re terrified.” She snuggled in. “But you need to leave in a little bit. To go home and sleep.”

  “I’m not going home,” he muttered, the terror and anger faded, but his irritation still rampant.

  In the fucking hospital and making plans for the offense.

  The woman was insane.

  “I love you.”

  The irritation faded. “I love you, too.”

  “You need to rest,” she began.

  He put a finger under her chin and tilted it up. “I’m not going.”

  She made a face. “I don’t want you to upend your life just because—”

  “My woman and our baby are in the hospital?” He snorted. “I can’t see a better time to upend my life.”

  “Coop.”

  “Right,” he muttered. “I thought we’d gotten past this, but I see that you’ve still got shit running through your brain.”

  “Coop.”

  “No,” he snapped. “I’m here. I’m not going to the fucking game, and you’re fucking kidding yourself if you even think that Bernard or Stefan or fucking Craig would let me on the ice tonight. Hell, Brit would clobber me with her stick if I tried, even with your blessing.” He made air quotes with one hand. “Further that, you know I’d be a liability because my mind would be right here.” He kissed her forehead. “With you. In this bed. With you and our little girl.”

  Her lips parted, breath slipping out.

  He pressed a kiss there. “And you know it,” he murmured against her mouth. “You know I’d be a fucking mess, and it wouldn’t be good for the team.”

  A tear slipped free, plunked onto his chest.

  “You’re scared, baby. You’re scared because shit got real today, and you think I’m going to leave because of it.” He tugged a strand of her disheveled hair. “Here’s the thing. I’m not going anywhere.”

  More tears.

  “I am scared,” she whispered. “I thought I had it all together and was fine. I thought I knew that you were sticking around. But then I thought about me being on bed rest for the next four months and being a liability to the team. I’m going to be stuck at home, and you can live your life, and . . . I kept thinking that I need to make sure you live your life so that you won’t leave me.”

  Fuck, she was killing him.

  “Baby,” he said gently. “What I don’t think you get is that my life is shit without you.”

  “Coop!” she gasped on a half-laugh. “Don’t say that. Before me, your life was—”

  “A half-life.”

  She shook her head.

  “The moment you decided to give me a chance was the moment I saw the world in full color. Fuck, baby, do you think I would have invested so much into someone who didn’t?”

  She bit her lip, tears stopping, but she didn’t answer him.

  “I’ll tell you,” he said. “The answer is no fucking way. I spent three hours searching for a store that could get me that giant ass jar of peanut butter, just because I wanted to see what your face looked like when I gave it to you.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I snuck down to the hotel’s kitchen to make sure the room service guy delivered my note along with the carrot cake. And”—he threaded his fingers through her hair, waited until her eyes met his—“when you told me you loved me, I was toast. The deal was done. I was yours. For-fucking-ever.”

  “You can’t promise—”

  He kissed her until they were both breathing hard.

  “I can.” Another press of his lips. “I will.”

  “Coop—”

  His mouth slanted across hers, his tongue slipping inside, teasing hers out to play.

  She pulled back. “You can’t just keep kissing me to shut me up.”

  He leaned in. “I can try.”
/>   A sigh.

  “I love you, sweetheart.” Coop brushed his lips against hers. “And while I can promise you that I’m not leaving because I know it in the marrow of my bones, I know that’s intangible. That’s why I was bringing you these—”

  He shifted, pulling the envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans. It was creased and folded to hell and back, but he’d somehow held on to it, not realizing until he’d been in the waiting room for some hours.

  “What—?”

  He put it in her hands. “Open it.”

  For once, she didn’t argue and tore open the flap with shaking fingers, tugging the papers free, her eyes shooting up to his when she realized what those papers said.

  “Adoption papers?”

  Coop nodded.

  “As soon as she’s born, she’s getting my name on the birth certificate and we’re making it official.” It was the thing he and his dad had talked about, and it made sense—he needed to protect both his girls.

  He took the papers, carefully folded them back up. “She’s mine. You’re mine—”

  She kissed him this time.

  Cutting off his words.

  Shutting him up for a change.

  But Coop didn’t mind, especially when she broke away and said, “I get it now.” Before kissing him again and continuing to kiss him until Dr. Holdings interrupted them with a loud cough.

  But before the doctor could speak, Calle tilted her face up so their gazes met and said, “Also, there is no way in fucking hell that you’re playing tonight. Blue needs a line mate, not a hole on the ice.” She nipped his jaw. “You’re staying here with me.” Then whispered in his ear, “Forever.”

  And Coop knew she meant it.

  Because he whispered back, “Forever.”

  Epilogue

  Part One

  Calle

  Turned out she could coach via an earpiece, but it was so much better being on home ice when the Gold hoisted their second Cup win in franchise history.

  It had been a hard-fought playoff run and an even harder final round.

  But they’d won.