by Kate Meader
“Thought you’d never ask!”
Meeting his brother had been a surreal experience. Walking into the Empty Net bar for Erik’s birthday drinks, Theo pondered what might happen next. Would Jason mention the visit to his dad? Surely Nick’s wife would say something to her husband?
Seven years ago Theo had visited Nick at his law offices in Chicago, and was told “now wasn’t a good time.” Theo had thought it the perfect time. He was headed to Vermont on his hockey scholarship. He didn’t need money or even regular meet-ups with his biological father, who had knocked up Theo’s sixteen-year-old mom in high school when he was seventeen. But his mother had recently passed and Theo didn’t want to waste any time on if only.
His father’s rejection of his oldest son hadn’t really surprised him; he’d had eighteen years to reach out, after all. Theo was an optimist to his core and to not try wasn’t in his nature. With his enthusiasm and ego bruised, he left those law offices and never looked back—except for the odd sneaky look at Facebook.
But seeing his half-brother today plucked at something raw inside him, something that could only be appeased by seeing Elle. He needed her snark, her set-downs, and her hard-won smiles.
Theo approached the bar to place an order. No sign of the woman on his mind, so maybe it was her night off. His shoulders sank in disappointment.
Tina, the woman who owned the Empty Net, spotted him. “What’ll it be, Theo?”
“Hey, Tina,” he said. “Two IPAs, a pint of Guinness, and a Brandy Alexander for the birthday boy, please.” Erik had some shady taste in cocktails.
“The birthday boy?”
His heart kicked hard at the sight of Elle, newly arrived from the other side of the bar. Her hair was tied back, her face shiny with the heat, which reminded him of her glossy and sweaty underneath his body. She’d made those quiet, desperate moans when he touched her and … now he had the makings of a damn fine erection.
That was the other reason for cutting down on his bar visits. Balls of blue were no fun.
“Jorgenson. It’s his birthday.” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine.” She dragged it out, then mirrored his lean, coming close enough that he could smell sweet mint on her breath. “How’ve you been?”
“Like you care. You never call. You never write.” He added a cheeky grin to let her know it was all a joke, even though inside he was a touch frosted that they’d been reduced to this level of awkwardness.
“I see you on TV.” She pointed at one of the many screens, currently tuned to last night’s game, which they’d won. He’d played awesome. “Looks like things are coming together. Or so Hunt says.”
Still talking to Hunt, then. He had no reason to be jealous of his teammate, who had known Elle back in the military and was recently engaged and very happy—or as happy as the sour bastard was capable—with Jordan Cooke, sports reporter extraordinaire.
“Yeah, season’s turning around. We might even qualify for the playoffs, which I know you don’t care about.”
“If it makes people spend more money in here, I am your biggest fan, Kershaw.”
“Hi, Theo!” An unfamiliar voice cut in, and he had to look down to meet the big brown eyes of a blond pixie type. She wore a Rebels T-shirt, had more teeth than should be possible in one mouth, and smelled nice.
“Hi, there.”
“You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Kylie and I work at the Riverbrook Animal Shelter? We chatted at that charity brunch in December? You said you wanted to help with our spaying and neutering program?”
Right. Theo actually remembered this woman from that charity thing. She was pretty rabid about de-balling puppies, so he actually believed this wasn’t a sneaky way of getting his digits. He never handed them out unless absolutely necessary.
“Sorry, with the holidays, it fell off my radar, but just tell me what you need and I’ll be all over it.”
“You’re so sweet. Money would help? But also a mention on your Instagram would be fantastic. Maybe I could get your number?”
He checked his pockets and pulled out a business card. “My publicist. She can get you what you need.”
Her gaze narrowed on the card. “Wonderful! Thanks so much.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then skipped off to a table near the juke box—the one he wouldn’t be pushing Elle against anytime soon per her post-fling rules. He considered making a joke about that, but sometime during his chat with Kylie, Elle had vanished.
Well, that sucked.
Tina loaded all the drinks on the bar. “Start a tab, Theo?”
“You bet. Got to keep the birthday boy happy.” At least one of them would be tonight.
9
Where the hell are you?
Elle had texted Jordan hours ago—okay, five minutes—and she still hadn’t come up to the apartment. She checked her phone and found a new message: On my way!
Maybe it was a mistake to do this on her break but seeing Theo downstairs had pushed her to a decision. What she really needed right now was Jordan’s sunny can-do optimism. She needed someone who would tell her it was going to be fine.
“Hello?”
“I’m in here,” Elle called back.
Jordan’s steady tread got louder until the redhead appeared at the entrance to Elle’s bathroom. “You okay? You sounded—whoa!” Her gaze fell on the bomb in the room.
The pee-stick-shaped bomb.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Well, it’s not a new kind of pimple popper. God knows I wish it was.” She examined her face in the mirror. Was her skin starting to break out from the stress? No surprise there. “I did it about three minutes ago, so it should be ready.”
Nothing on the readout, yet. No news is good news, right?
Jordan put her arm around her, which she just about managed despite being a good six inches shorter than Elle. “No matter what happens, we’re going to get through this. Levi and I will be—”
“No to the nopity no. You cannot tell Hunt. You know how he gets.”
Jordan tilted her head, a splash of freckles on her nose glowing in the bad light of the bathroom. “No, I don’t. Do tell.”
Elle responded as if Jordan hadn’t said that with a slightly sarcastic twist to it. “He’ll be weird and patriarchal and will probably want to beat up someone.” A certain someone.
“Riiiight. I hear you, but he also recognizes that you’re an autonomous person who’s free to sleep with whomever you want and own all the consequences of that.”
After a beat, they both burst out laughing.
Jordan grimaced. “Theo?”
“Is it so obvious?”
“Not really, but he’s always seemed interested in you. He doesn’t come in here much anymore so I figured something might have happened and it was awkward.”
So she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed his absence. Boy, was she annoyed at how pleased she was to see him tonight after so long without. She’d made it clear that she wouldn’t be clingy, that it was a one-time deal, and that he should have nothing to worry about … except for the possible surprise pregnancy! So much for no strings.
The man could barely look at her, and now this. “Theo is the last person I want holding my hand in this situation.”
“I know he’s sort of absurd, but he’s also kind of sweet.”
That was the problem. He was far too sweet for her.
She frowned at Jordan. You all are. If only you had the slightest idea of where I’m from and the havoc I wreak everywhere I go. Exhibit A: Got knocked up by America’s Favorite Ass.
“He’s not terrible, but—” An ominous here’s-your-future beep cut her off. “I can’t look at it. Could you do it for—”
“It’s positive.” Jordan had already picked it up and was now waving it like it was a Polaroid and shaking it could make it clearer, or change the result.
Elle snatched it back and promptly started to do the
same thing. “Maybe it’s wrong.”
“99.2% accurate says the box.”
“Well, I could be the .8%. Which is why I also bought three others and peed on them at the same time.” She pulled back the shower curtain and gestured to the three differently-branded test sticks now lying in the bathtub like a blind-date TV show where the results were (a) catastrophe, (b) loss of freedom and (c) you’re screwed.
Those baby bombs portrayed two straight lines (fuck), a plus sign (double fuck), and a smiley face (huh?) respectively. She grabbed the smiley-face one because that was some presumptive shit right there. If it meant what she thought it did, they were assuming this was her most heartfelt wish and joy was all around. Baby poop, vomit, and shackles for her never-ever-after.
She checked the box. Smiley face meant “congrats, Mama to be.”
“This sucks.”
“It doesn’t have to.” Jordan gathered up all the tests and looked at each one carefully. “You’re pregnant but you don’t have to be. We can figure this out.”
Elle sat on the toilet seat, her head in her hands.
“He’ll think it’s a scam. That I’m after his money.”
“Why would he think that? Why would you think he would think that?”
Hold up, Eloise. Your bad girl cynicism is showing. That’s not going to fly with Susie Sunshine here.
She peeked out from behind her fingers. “He’s rich and single. Have you seen how women are always throwing themselves at him?” Spaying and neutering program my ass.
“That’s par for the course for all the pros. They’re not all looking to scam him. Okay, some of them might be, but you? No way. Kershaw won’t think that.”
The sound of movement outside the door caught their attention.
“Hey, Jordan, where are—oh, hey.”
Damn. Hunt.
His eyes flew wide at the sight of Jordan holding a bouquet of disaster-sticks in her hand. “What the—”
“Hell.” Jordan slammed the door in his face.
“What did you do that for?” Elle hissed.
“I panicked!” She dropped the tests in the sink, then made a “yikes” gesture with her mouth. “Be right out!”
Elle grabbed the tests and put them in the trash. Jordan was waving her hands and miming something.
“What?” Elle snapped.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re useless. Why is he even here?”
“I told him to come upstairs when he was ready to leave and I must have left the door open. I’m sorry.”
Elle yanked open the door. “Hunt! Can’t a couple of gal pals pee alone?”
Hunt stood on the threshold, soldier-still, arms crossed, every ounce of his military training reactivated. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” Elle said because muteness had struck Jordan, who was washing her hands and ignoring her fiancé. “Think I’ve got a zit, right under my skin, so Jordan was trying to figure out what I could do to keep it at bay. You know, girl stuff.”
“Girl stuff. From the two least girly people I know.”
“Hey!” Jordan finally came to life, pushing him back from the bathroom door with wet hands. “We can be girly, so quit with the judgments just because she’s ex-army and I’m a sports-loving chick.”
Not budging, Hunt just stared at Jordan. His ice-chip gaze softened. “Are you—baby, just tell me, are you pregnant?”
“Me?” Jordan flashed a sidelong glance at Elle, assuring everyone present that Meryl’s acting crown was not in imminent danger. Clearly not wanting to drop Elle in it, she pushed ineffectually at Hunt’s chest again. “Let’s chat when we get home.”
“It’s me, Hunt,” Elle said, resigned to the ugly truth. “I’m pregnant.”
A curt nod was his response. Then another. His jaw bunched. A muscle ticked. The squint got squintier. The whole rainbow of constipated hard-ass reaction happened before their eyes.
“Kershaw did this to you?”
Was this thing between her and Kershaw really so obvious? “No one did it to me. Sure, if we’re talking specifics, it takes two, but I’m not a pliant victim waiting for a willing penis to fall inside me. I’m as responsible as the, uh, penis …” She left it there, hoping that was enough to satisfy him. Like a willing penis.
He turned heel and walked away. Elle and Jordan exchanged quick glances, then Elle asked the million-dollar question.
“Is Theo still down there?”
Jordan took off with Elle in hot pursuit.
Theo didn’t see it coming.
One second, he was laughing his head off at Erik and Cade’s argument over whether doing weights “every other day” meant there were actually eight days in a week, but that the calendar was wrong. This made no sense, but Theo was happy to listen to the two knuckleheads tie themselves into knots.
Until he landed on the floor with a force that made him think he was getting checked by an elephant in last night’s game.
His palm went instinctively to his jaw because it hurt, along with his ass and his ego. He looked up.
Levi Hunt stood over him, fist cocked, blue eyes blazing. “You just had to fucking go there, Kershaw.”
“Hey!” Theo rubbed his jaw and shook his head, trying to absorb some knowledge he didn’t have about this situation into his tired brain.
“Levi, don’t!”
That sounded like Elle, who in Theo’s entire recollection, had never once called Hunt by his first name. Her face was twisted in discomfort … for Theo?
Still not getting it.
“Want to tell me what your problem is, Hunt?”
“Levi, honey, let’s figure this out.” Calmer, softer, from Jordan. She placed her hand on his arm, and he relaxed by a hair, just enough that Theo felt he could stand and not walk into Hunt’s fist.
The former Green Beret—extremely relevant to this situation, Theo thought—was shaking his head, disgust rolling off him that would give anyone pause. Theo felt disappointed in himself—and he didn’t even know what he’d done!
“Theo, could you join us over here for a minute?” Jordan’s expression was pleading. Behind her, Elle stood fidgeting, looking distinctly unlike herself. Not that he knew her all that well, but he liked to think he knew that much.
Then he got it: Hunt had somehow found out about Christmas Eve and was here to tear him limb from limb.
“So I can be pulverized to a pulp by Rambo here?”
“No one is going to hit anyone,” Jordan said with a grim determination. “Again.”
Levi sneered. “Don’t bet on it.”
The guys were looking on, not interfering—thankseversomuch!—evidently having decided this was better left to the two of them to work it out. Sure, Levi Hunt was a reasonable fella so Theo must have had it coming. Plenty of people at the bar were rubbernecking, cameras out and pointed, and this had the makings of a PR nightmare. From a public opinion standpoint, Theo had already lost the room.
Who cares what the public thinks? You need to stay in the moment, Kershaw.
He stood and took a step toward Levi who was not backing the fuck down. Jordan stepped in between them and placed her hand on Levi’s chest. “In the back. Now.”
Theo wasn’t so sure about that. Going in back took him outside the realm of the group. Not that he was afraid of Hunt, but he had a feeling that once people heard the reason why Hunt was going with fists first as his strategy, Theo would look less like the asshole here.
A glance Elle’s way decided it for him. Still fidgeting, still nervous, still not her usual self. Surely, she wasn’t that upset that Hunt had found out about their holiday hijinks. Moving past Jordan and Hunt, he put his hand on Elle’s arm. This was between them.
“Are you okay, Ellie?”
She bit her lip, in a way that would normally have had him aching with lust but right now had him concerned. “I’m fine, really. Hunt’s making a big deal of it, but I’m okay. Jordan’s right. We need to talk.”
&nbs
p; She turned and walked away, and he followed, thinking he didn’t mind. That he might follow her anywhere which was a weird notion to have this second. His brain was a circus in there, and the clowns were getting ready to enter the ring on unicycles, and … Calm down, Kershaw.
She led the way to the corridor where the restrooms were located, then past them to a door marked “Staff Only.” Hunt’s ominous step echoed behind him. What was going on that the guy felt the need to be this involved?
Theo turned before they entered. “Is this really any of your business?”
Hunt’s face, usually so impassive, split in fury. “She’s my business.”
“Hunt, it’s okay,” Elle said, her voice more in control again, that nervous quiver no more. “Theo and I need to discuss this alone.” She took his hand, led him into the office and shut the door in Hunt’s face. Hand on her brow, she closed her eyes and took a moment.
Theo wasn’t good with silences especially when someone looked as stricken as Elle did right now. “I know you said you were okay but I’m getting really worried. What’s—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Two words, so soft, yet heavy as cement. His world stopped, his heart with it, and all he could do was stare at her.
“Theo, did you hear me?”
“Hunt knows this before me?”
Her eyes widened. Okay, maybe that shouldn’t have been his first reaction, but what the living hell?
“It was accidental, both the pregnancy and the reveal. I just took the test upstairs with Jordan and he walked in. That’s when he put two and two together and came down here to lay you out. I’m sorry about that. Truly.”
About that. About Levi punching him. Not that she had anything else to be sorry for but shit, how had this happened?
You know how it happened.
Before he could get into the nitty gritty, she spoke. “Condoms have a 2-4% failure rate and I’m not using anything else. I swear this was an accident. I know you’re rich and famous but I didn’t do this on purpose to trap you. I promise!”
Her voice rose with each word spoken until it reached a fever pitch at the end. That she would have tried to trap him never occurred to him. If that was her game, she was a scammer without par. Anyone looking to snag a rich pro athlete would have hedged their bets. Fucked him a few more times. Would have been nicer to him.