Lucas - Sawyer Bennett

Lucas is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. A Loveswept Ebook Original Copyright © 2017 by Sawyer Bennett Excerpt from Van by Sawyer Bennett copyright © 2017 by Sawyer Bennett All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC. This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Van by Sawyer Bennett. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

Ebook ISBN 9780425286593 Cover design: Lynn Andreozzi Cover photograph: Gerber86/Getty Images randomhousebooks.com v4.1 ep

Contents Cover Title Page Copyright

Prologue: Lucas Chapter 1: Lucas Chapter 2: Stephanie Chapter 3: Lucas Chapter 4: Stephanie Chapter 5: Lucas Chapter 6: Stephanie Chapter 7: Lucas Chapter 8: Stephanie Chapter 9: Lucas Chapter 10: Stephanie Chapter 11: Lucas Chapter 12: Stephanie Chapter 13: Lucas Chapter 14: Stephanie Chapter 15: Lucas

Chapter 16: Stephanie Chapter 17: Lucas Chapter 18: Stephanie Chapter 19: Lucas Chapter 20: Stephanie Chapter 21: Lucas Chapter 22: Stephanie Chapter 23: Lucas Chapter 24: Stephanie Chapter 25: Lucas Chapter 26: Stephanie Epilogue: Van By Sawyer Bennett About the Author Excerpt from Van

Prologue

Lucas This is not the first charity gala I’ve attended, but it is the first being held underneath a thirty-eight-foot Acrocanthosaurus fossilized skeleton on Valentine’s Day. I have to say, the dinosaur makes this event so much better because of the location and the fact there’s a large stuffed satin heart attached to the skeletal structure right around the area I believe the heart would have been. We’re at the North Carolina Natural Sciences Museum. I’m here with my Carolina Cold Fury teammate Van Turner, my older brother, Max, and his fiancée, Jules. My crazy brother proposed to her in a magazine article, and she accepted just two days ago. Van is new to the Cold Fury, just as I am. We’ve been here less than two full weeks, both of us brought in to beef up the defense, as the Cold Fury is taking a very focused shot at a repeat Stanley Cup victory. I want to hoist that cup more than anything

in the world, so the answer was a big “fuck yes” when my agent contacted me to see if I was interested. Actually, I think it was more like “fuckity fuck fuck yes,” because Max was the starting goalie for the Cold Fury and we’d never played on the same team before once we went professional. I’m attending this black-tie gala tonight to help raise money for the museum. It’s not a cause that’s near and dear to me, but I’m here because Brian Brannon, the team’s owner, gave Max four tickets, which cost two hundred dollars each. He couldn’t come because his daughter, Lexi, was in a car accident three days ago and landed in the hospital. Let me qualify by saying his new daughter, Lexi. Gray Brannon, the league’s only female general manager, announced it at a team meeting. Lexi is a long-lost daughter whom Brian purportedly didn’t know about and she’s recently shown up. More surprising is that she’s dating Roman Sýkora, because he and Gray Brannon don’t get along. Gotta love the drama. That’s not the only thing causing stress within our locker room. We’ve got the playoffs looming in just a few months, and right now we’re at the top of our conference and

want to keep that going in. But we have some key players injured, which is a major stressor, and because Van and I are new to the team we’re trying to fit in to their system. Add that Gray’s pregnant and due in a few months, and that makes for a moody GM. I wonder if something’s in the water, because our team’s captain, Alex Crossman, is expecting a baby as well in July with his wife, Sutton. Zack Grantham, our second-line left winger, and his wife, Kate, are expecting a baby in August. He’s injured and riding pine, so he’s extra cranky, but he’s supposedly going to be good for the play-offs. I sip my champagne and glance at Max and Jules. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” “I’d like to be married first,” Jules says dryly. “And why would you ask that?” I shrug, tucking my free hand into my pocket. “Seems like everyone’s getting pregnant lately. Gray, Sutton, Kate. It’s like a virus.” Max chuckles. “Well, when you settle down, little bro, you’ll be thinking of babies at some point.” There’s no controlling my visible shudder. Not at the thought of babies, but at the thought of settling down. Did you know it’s statistically

impossible for a professional hockey player not to get laid if he feels like it? Why would I ever give that up? “Just make sure you practice safe sex,” Van says with a wink. “Then you’ve got no worries. At least 99.9 percent of the time, if she’s on the pill.” Jules rolls her eyes and drains her champagne glass. “I’m going to walk around and check out some of this exhibit.” Max slips his hand around her waist. “I’ll come with.” “Later,” Van says as they saunter off, then he and I are standing shoulder to shoulder watching the crowd. There’s a silent auction going on right now and people are circulating around the tables to put in their bids. The event is being sponsored by the Carolina Cold Fury and thus some members have to be here tonight to represent the team. I never mind dusting off my tux and rubbing elbows with people, because generally I’m a sociable guy, and who doesn’t like doing something charitable? “How much longer do you think we have to stay?” I mutter out of the side of my mouth to Van while keeping a pleasant smile in place. “Half hour?” he asks back.

“Done,” I agree as my eyes move over the crowd. “I’m going to hit up the hors d’oeuvres,” Van grumbles to me. “It’s the only reason I came.” He hates these things and bitched and moaned about it the entire time he was driving us here tonight. He’s my temporary roommate for now and seems pretty chill, but he can be kind of an asshole at times. My eyes move from Van’s retreating back to sweep the room, and that’s when I see her. Going back to that statistical improbability about getting laid, I’ll clarify that only holds true if the woman is single, as I don’t mess with married ladies. I see no ring on her finger, which is the first place I look, then I take a moment to appreciate everything else I’m seeing. She’s tall and lithe, walking gracefully my way, but she’s not looking directly at me. She has long, curly fiery-red hair, and her ice-blue eyes are looking a bit distressed. I turn my head to look over my shoulder, but the only thing behind me is the Acrocanthosaurus. That dinosaur isn’t going anywhere, so I look back to her. When she’s three feet away, her gaze sweeps to me briefly and I get a polite smile.

Then to my surprise she walks up to the exhibit, which sits raised on a tiled dais, and pulls up the skirt of her black evening gown. It’s simple but form fitting with thin straps, exposing light freckles spread across her shoulders. They match the ones over her nose and forehead. I’m not normally a freckle dude, but her skin is like creamy porcelain and her facial features are damn near perfect. She’s the type of woman who doesn’t need makeup. Her face alone is the beauty, the freckles only enhancing it. Yes, she pulls her skirt up to her knees, and without any hesitation steps up onto the tiled dais. She side-steps through some fake foliage that’s added to give an idea of the terrain that this dinosaur once roamed and stops in front of the back left leg. With her brows furrowed, she squats with her legs primly angled to the side and reaches a hand out, rubbing her index finger along one of the bones. Very interesting. She’s totally hot and so very interesting. I figure she’s supposed to be fondling the dino bones, or she’s a nut case and will be hauled out of here soon, but I’ll enjoy the view until then. Before I can contemplate it further, though,

she stands up and walks back through the foliage to the edge of the dais and looks directly at me. “Help a girl down?” I take the hand she’s holding out to me as she pulls her dress up a bit in preparation to step off. “Absolutely,” I say as I present my hand to her gallantly. Her resulting smile is actually a little flirty as she quips, “My hero.” One seriously high and spiked heel comes down onto the industrial carpet that runs through the building, followed by the other, and as soon as she’s stable, I contemplate letting her hand go. But as I said before, she’s totally hot, most likely single, and very interesting indeed. “I’m Lucas Fournier. I’m here on behalf of the Cold Fury.” Her hand squeezes mine as she inclines her head. “I actually know who you are, Mr. Fournier. I’m Stephanie Frazier.” Still holding her fine-boned hand with the softest skin, I ask, “And you were molesting that dinosaur because…?” Stephanie’s laugh is bold and infectious as she tips her head back, making her flamecolored curls spill farther down her back.

When she looks back to me with sparkling eyes, she says, “I thought I saw a nick.” My eyes cut over to the skeleton and back to her in confusion. “Nick?” “I’m the director of acquisitions,” she says, still holding on to my hand. “Well, I’ve recently been promoted to the director position due to some unfortunate scandal the previous director was embroiled in. But, whatever…Part of my job is to make sure all our specimens are in good shape and perfect order at all times after they’re put in place.” Fascinating about her job, I guess, but more interested in something else. “What was the scandal?” She steps in closer to me, looks around the room quickly, and whispers as she brings her eyes back. “A sex scandal.” I feign shock as I whisper back, “You’re kidding.” She shakes her head and smiles at me mischievously. “The rumor is he had a penchant for cross dressing as well as for sleeping with some of the other staff’s wives.” Okay, that is sort of scandalous now that I think about it. And hilarious she just told me that. “You don’t think perhaps you shouldn’t be telling one of the benefactors about this,

um, sex scandal, do you?” Her cheeks turn pink, but she still looks sinfully playful as she smiles at me. “I suppose not…but I’m not really cut out for these types of events. Natural-born rebel and all.” “Rebel?” I ask roguishly. “I’m liking the sound of this.” “Well, I really shouldn’t have told you about the sex scandal,” she admits with a chagrined look as she removes her hand from mine. “You won’t repeat that, will you?” “How about you tell me something scientific so I can legitimately say that’s what we talked about tonight if anyone asks.” “Hmmmm,” she says as she looks up briefly, then her eyes go from playful to serious when they return. “Did you know that North Carolina is the only state where all four major gemstones—and that would be emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds—have been discovered?” “I absolutely did not know that,” I say seriously, then I turn it playful again, because honestly, that’s where the most fun is. “Would you like to get out of here and go get a drink together?” Stephanie blinks once in surprise, and then she appraises me. Her eyes are fucking

gorgeous, a light blue that looks like that sheen of blue you see deep inside of Arctic icebergs, and yet it doesn’t make her look icy. In fact, her eyes actually have a sizzling quality to them or maybe it’s just the hair the color of molten lava spilling all around that gives a warm effect. “A drink?” she asks, not really to clarify, but more of a contemplation for herself to see if it’s something that would interest her. “Sure,” I say with an easygoing shrug. “There’s a lot of great bars downtown.” “Okay,” she says gamely. “A drink. Meaning one. I have to be at work super early tomorrow to make sure all of this party stuff is gone and this exhibit is show quality for when the doors open.” “I have an early practice,” I tell her nonchalantly. “So I have to be in top shape tomorrow as well.” “Then let me make some goodbyes and get my purse. Give me fifteen minutes.” I watch her ass the entire time she walks away, knowing that even though she said one drink, this night isn’t going to be over early. Like I said…near statistical impossibility for me not to get laid. When she’s out of sight, I pull out my phone

and shoot a text to Max, Jules, and Van in case I don’t see them before Stephanie gets back. — The elevator doors close and then I’m on her. Stephanie said she lives on the fourth floor, but I can’t wait that long. She’s got me so thoroughly inflamed I consider hitting the STOP button. My mouth crashes down on hers and she groans lustily. You see, one drink turned into two. Then three. Then four. And then…well, we hit another bar. Steph in her evening gown and me in my tux. Having fun and getting hammered. Small talk turning to flirting. Innuendo turning into action. She made the first move and I tried not to smirk when she stepped up to me and murmured, “Want go to my place? It’s just a few blocks from here.” My dick answered for me. Fuck yeah, I wanted to go to her apartment. I plunge my hand into her long curls and fist her hair near the nape of her neck. I give it a

short tug, then her head tilts back and her throat is exposed to me. I run my lips down her velvety skin to her collarbone as I press her body back into the wall of the elevator. My pelvis grinds into hers and she moans again as she feels exactly how badly I want her. Lifting my head, I look at her eyes hazy with alcohol and lust. “How drunk are you?” She grins at me. “Drunk enough that I don’t have a single inhibition left, and I hope to God you’ve got a condom on you, because I’m pretty sure we’re not going to make it past my front door, but sober enough that I know this is just a hookup.” I blink at her in surprise, my dick turning harder. I’ve never had a woman tell me she knows it’s just a hookup. Most see a professional athlete as a prize catch and are calculating the next day. Many see someone like me and are already envisioning marriage. But not Steph, which is what she said all her friends call her. She’s a confident woman, bold and ambitious. She’s also a twenty-firstcentury woman, and I can tell she’s in touch with her sexuality. This is going to be fucking awesome, not having any feelings to worry about bruising. The elevator chimes and comes to a stop. As

soon as the doors open, Steph takes my hand and pulls me out. She practically jogs down three doors in her sexy high heels, and then she’s releasing me to fumble in her purse for keys. “This your place?” I ask as I step up to her, taking her hips in my hands and pressing into her backside. She hums her approval and grinds back against me. “Yup.” With keys in hand, Steph efficiently opens the door, telling me she’s definitely not stinking drunk. She’s also a fantastic kisser, which is another telltale sign, because drunks kiss all sloppy and wet. That kiss in the elevator was focused, passionate, and hot as fucking hell. When she pushes her door open, I start moving her gently inside. She laughs, and as soon as I close the door, she spins around and throws herself at me. I catch her easily, and because there is no seducing necessary, I drag her gown up until it’s around her hips as her hands pull at my tuxedo jacket to rip it off. When the coat hits the floor, I pick her up and turn her toward the apartment door, walking her right into it until her back thuds against the wood. Her long legs wrap tight around me

and her core comes to rest on my erection. She undulates her hips and I can feel the heat of her through her panties and my pants. Fucking Christ, she’s hot. This is all so fast and unrehearsed, and nothing but pure lust guides us. My mouth is on hers again, and we kiss like we are both starved. Like we haven’t had sex in decades—although for me it was four days ago with someone random I’d hooked up with. But damn…her mouth. The way she naturally fits in my arms. Hell…she’s got me whipped just from the way she gyrates against me, and I need to be inside of her right fucking now. Ripping my mouth from hers, I mutter, “Let me get the condom.” She makes a groaning sound of disappointment but lets me lower her to the floor so I can grab my wallet. She watches with anticipation, her chest rising and falling. I toss my wallet to the floor when I have the condom in hand, and she starts working at my pants. My head spins when she frees my cock, grasping it tightly and giving it a few long strokes. I work at the foil, but I keep fumbling it because what she’s doing feels so good. She urges me, “Hurry.” So I put my mind to the task and rip open

the packet. Her hand moves faster on me as I pull the condom from the wrapper. “Roll it on,” I order her gruffly. She looks at me with glazed eyes filled with need, then she takes the rubber from me. I grit my teeth as she rolls it on me and takes a moment to fondle my balls. Fuck, I love it when a woman does that. One last barrier and we are ready for action. I push Steph’s hands away and go for her panties. The material of her gown bunched around her hips doesn’t give me a good look at them, but they’re black and look flimsy. With one hand to her hip, I stare into her eyes as I slip the other down the front of her underwear. My finger immediately feels moisture between her lips, so I gather it up and roll the tip over her clit. Steph bucks against my hand and my finger easily slips inside. She bucks even harder. “Quit wasting time,” she growls at me in a cute, kittenish way as she rocks against my hand. But it’s not so adorable that I don’t take her at face value, realizing she wants to fuck, like, right now. I kiss her hard one more time, then pull her panties down her legs. After they’re free and I

toss them over my shoulder, I turn her body, push her front into the door, and order her as I stand up, “Spread your legs for me, Stephy.” Her laugh is husky. “Stephy. I like that.” “And you call me Luc,” I return to her as I lean forward to nip at her ear. “Well,” she says breathless as she sticks her ass out toward me. “How about get on with fucking me, Luc.” And damn my name sounds nice coming out of her mouth. Want to hear that again and louder. I take my cock in hand and rub the tip through her wetness. She rolls her hips, trying to get me on target, and when the head slips into her, she groans. “Yes…right there.” Because Steph is standing with her legs spread in those sexy heels, I don’t necessarily have the best angle, but fucking up against the door because we can’t wait to make it to the bed is way too hot to pass up. I work my way into her body, short thrusts so she can stretch to accommodate me. Steph writhes and urges me on with filthy little whispers, and when I’m finally seated to the hilt inside of her sex, she turns her head and lays her cheek against the door. I see her eyes are closed and she has a

dreamy smile on her face as she murmurs, “Let’s do this hard and fast, okay, Luc?” Magic. Fucking. Words. I pull out of her and slam back inside. She slaps a hand to the door for balance and grunts from the pleasure. I like a woman who makes noises, and I pound into her body to get it from her over and over again. My breathing becomes labored from the exertion of this furious fucking and sweat rolls down my face. Steph gyrates and moans and tells me to fuck her harder. My balls are slapping against her, trying to stuff as much of myself into her body as I can. Because she demands it. “Harder,” she says again, and somehow I manage to fuck her harder, and the fact that she’s taking it and begging for more is a complete fucking turn-on. My orgasm starts to build and I grit my teeth, not wanting to give it up yet. My instinct is to slow down, draw this out, but I can tell she’s getting close too and I want to watch her come. Steph lowers her torso, pushing her ass out more, and rears backward into my thrusts. I’ve never in my life gone this hard with a woman. Didn’t know I had it in me. Certainly never met a woman who had this in her.

Best. Hookup. Ever. All of a sudden, Steph goes rigid, and for a moment I think I’ve hurt her, then I feel her pussy clamp hard on to my dick. “God, yes, Luc. Yes, yes, yes.” And she explodes with a violent shudder that causes her to groan as her head falls forward. I grip on to her hips more tightly, pick up the pace even more, and follow her over the edge with a roar of pleasure so intense it might be a religious experience.

Chapter 1

Lucas FOUR WEEKS LATER… “To Garrett and Lucas,” Alex yells as he lifts his beer into the air. I grin, lifting my beer to Garrett, and several of my teammates all hoist as well. We’re celebrating our win tonight against the Denver Blue Devils, as it was a clutch game. We’ve been battling them neck and neck for the top divisional spot, and with the play-offs starting just a month away, this was a must-win game. Garrett and I sealed it with less than a minute to go. I intercepted an errant pass, Garrett took off down the right side, and I fed it to him beautifully for the game-winning goal. We’re celebrating at Hoolihan’s, a local sports bar where many of the Cold Fury players hang after a game. We didn’t have a spot like this when I played for the New Jersey

Wildcats, but I find it super fucking cool. That’s because the fans who come here to mix and mingle with the players are super fucking cool. Sure, there are several puck bunnies looking to hook up, which is never a bad thing in my opinion. But the vast majority of the people are just super fans wanting to connect with the team they support. I take a sip of my beer and almost choke when Max gives me a light punch in my stomach. As I’m coughing and wiping my mouth, he grins at me and says, “Glad to have you on this team, little brother.” I give him a playful punch back. “Dream come true for us to play in the NHL together.” “Going to be a better dream,” Max says soberly, “when we win the Stanley Cup together.” “Amen,” I agree just as seriously. There is no joking around about the Stanley Cup. “Didn’t Jules want to come out with you tonight?” Max gives me the stink eye. “You know we actually do things separate and apart from each other.” I snicker. “Hardly. You two are attached at the hip.” Because my brother Max is a romantic and believes deeply in happily ever afters, his

smile goes soft at my reference. His voice, though, is teasing. “Come on, man. You’ve seen Jules. Why wouldn’t I want to be attached at the hip with her?” My eyes sweep over the crowd as I try to see if there are any potentials in the crowd. Not to attach my hip to, but hip action definitely would be involved. I’m riding high on a victory that I helped to seal, and while Max may be about true love, I’m about orgasms. Just before I turn to Max to explain the difference between us—which he actually already knows—my eyes catch on a mass of vibrant red hair attached to the head of a woman walking through the door. “Holy fucking shit,” I mutter under my breath. Apparently not low enough that Max doesn’t hear. “What?” I shake my head as I watch Stephanie Frazier enter Hoolihan’s. “Just a blast from my recent past.” A fucking amazing blast from my past. It’s not that I’m against relationships, it’s just that I don’t want to be bothered by the complications at this point my life. Stephanie, however, made me consider the alternative, if even for a brief time. My night with her was

practically transcendental, the absolute best sex I’ve ever had in my life. That alone had me interested in seeing her again, but the evening ended on an awkward note and it didn’t happen. But seeing her here now, there’s absolutely no reason why we can’t chat, and if there’s still a spark, perhaps this celebration tonight has just gotten better for me. “I see someone I know,” I tell Max as I push my beer into his hand to hold for me. “I’ll be back in a minute.” I start winding my way through the crowd, and at six five, I’m easily able to see Stephanie looking around as if she’s meeting someone. Her gaze sweeps right by me, which is a little discouraging, but then her eyes snap back and lock with mine. And the minute we make that connection, my stomach completely bottoms out. Her face is tight with what looks to be an incredible amount of stress, and she does not appear happy to see me. That can mean only one thing, and I know that my life is getting ready to turn upside down. That amazing night with Stephanie didn’t end so well. I grip on to her hips more tightly, pick up the pace even more, and follow her over the

edge with a roar of pleasure so intense it might be a religious experience. Goddamn that was intense. “Oh wow,” Stephanie huffs out as she tries to catch her breath. “Fucking understatement of the year,” I rasp back to her, my throat parched from the effort I just put into that. I ease my hold on her hips and pull slowly out of her wet heat, unable to contain the groan at the feel of her against me. My eyes are pinned on my very happy dick as it slides out, and I know it would not mind having another round with her before the evening is up. But then I see it. The condom split down the side of my shaft with my semen leaking out. “Goddammit,” I growl as I slip free of her and watch more of my semen drip out. Stephanie straightens up and turns toward me slowly, tucking her wild hair behind her ears. “What?” My head lifts slowly and I grimace at her as I pull the condom off. “It broke.” Yeah, that evening ended on a very awkward note. Neither one of us could blame the other,

as we just had some amazing sex, so we ended up ranting about how shitty the condom was. There was the inevitable talk about STDs, but both of us were assured the other was clean based on past experience with condom usage and medical exams. There was also the talk about pregnancy, and I was not happy to learn that the condom was our only means of birth control that night. Stephanie said she could see a doctor the following day and get the morning-after pill, which gave me a level of comfort I’m guessing I shouldn’t have relied on based on the way she’s looking at me. Stephanie stops in place and I continue to walk toward her. She watches me warily, and there is no doubt my mind that she is standing in this bar tonight looking only for me. As soon as I reach her, she says, “Can we talk in private?” “Yeah,” I croak. I sure as fuck don’t want to talk and hear what she has to say, but there’s no way I can avoid it. She simply turns and pushes back through the crowd to the door, walking outside. I follow her like I’m being led to the gallows. There’s a crowd hanging out front, so Stephanie continues to walk through the

parking lot, stopping near a small silver economy car. She leans back against the hood, crosses her arms protectively over her chest, and says, “I’ve been trying to reach you for two days. I’ve left messages through the Cold Fury office for you to contact me.” I shake my head at her. “I didn’t get your messages and I probably would never have, as they don’t pass that stuff along. There are too many nutty fans that try to reach us that way. You would’ve only been able to get to me through my agent.” She nods in understanding, her voice crisp and efficient. “I knew that the team hung out here after victories. I took a chance that you might be here tonight.” I notice she’s wearing a Cold Fury jersey. It’s small and fits her snugly, and she paired it with blue jeans and black high heel boots. She looks fucking amazing, but I really can’t even appreciate it right now. “I’m pregnant,” she says in a voice so low I almost don’t hear it. But I do. I was waiting for it. There can be no other reason why she was here. It’s been exactly four weeks since the night we were together, and I have to be honest, I didn’t worry about whether or not she could

be pregnant. I simply chose to ignore that possibility and instead focused my memories of our night together on the incredible orgasms we had. Besides, she took the morning-after pill, didn’t she? “I thought you were going to go to the doctor—” I start to ask her. She holds a hand up. “I did. The very next morning and got the prescription. But it’s not a hundred percent effective.” Just fucking great. I mean…I knew it wasn’t 100 percent effective, but I refused to think that small percent ineffectiveness rate would bite me in the ass. “When did you find out?” I ask as I jam my hands down into the pockets of my jeans. She drops her arms away from her chest and mimics my action. “I didn’t get my period. So I took a home pregnancy test four days ago, which was the earliest a pregnancy would’ve registered. I was able to get to my doctor day before yesterday for a blood test and he confirmed it.” Oh my God. This is fucking real. My entire sense of well-being and selfpreservation rebels against the idea that I could potentially be a father in the very near future. I have an overwhelming need to fight

against this. I try to make my tone as neutral as possible, but it still comes out defensively when I ask, “And you’re sure it’s mine?” Stephanie glares at me. “I’m sure.” But I can’t let it go. Maybe she hasn’t considered all the possibilities. “Maybe there was someone else you had been with in the week or two prior to me?” This seemed reasonable to me, since Stephanie is a sexual woman with low inhibitions and no problems with one-night stands. Stephanie’s hands come out of her pockets and she pushes up off her car. “I’m absolutely sure. I haven’t been with anyone before you in a while.” I don’t know this woman well enough to know whether that’s true. I’ve also been subjected to a nasty relationship with a woman who was after nothing but my money, so I’m not going to lie and say that’s not crossing my mind as well. I’m still in self-protect mode when I say, “Then you won’t mind if we get a paternity test?” The anger drains out of her face and she gives a resigned sigh. “That’s fine. I’ll find out from my doctor how we can do that.” Stephanie turns away for me and opens her

car door. I watch silently as she leans in and rummages through what appears to be her purse. She takes out a small spiral pad of paper, opens it, and scribbles something. She then tears it off and pulls her body out of the car, holding her arm out to me. “Here’s my phone number. If you want to know anything about the pregnancy, give me a call. My email is on there as well. My first appointment with the obstetrician isn’t until next month, so I won’t have any information about how we test paternity until then. Get up with me and I’ll let you know what I find out.” I take the paper reluctantly, which now puts the burden on me as to whether or not I acknowledge this new twist in my life. “Yeah, okay,” I say lamely. Stephanie nods curtly and gets into her car. I step to the side when she starts the engine and I watch as she pulls away, wondering how in the hell my life just got so damned complicated. “Fuck,” I bark out to no one but myself when she’s out of sight. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and stick her contact information inside. I walk back into Hoolihan’s, push my way through the crowd, and find Max. Grabbing his arm just above the elbow, I

lean in and mutter, “I need to talk to you in private.” Because I know from very recent experience that the most private place around is the parking lot, I lead Max out to the area where Stephanie was just parked. When I turn around, Max’s face is filled with worry. We’ve always been close, even though we’re two years apart. He knows that I wear my heart on my sleeve so he’s astute enough to know I’m upset. Hell, he can probably tell by my body language that I’m in deep shit. This is confirmed when he asks in a slightly panicked voice, “What’s wrong?” I tilt my head and scratch the back of my head for a moment, knowing that there’s no great way to lay this out. So I just do it as simply as possible. “You know that woman I was with the night of that charity gala at the natural sciences museum?” Max nods. “Yeah.” “Well,” I drawl, hesitate for a brief moment, then plunge straight ahead. “She’s…um… pregnant.” “Whoa,” Max murmurs softly. “How did that happen?” “Let’s just say the rubber couldn’t hold up to the type of sex we had,” I say sheepishly. “It

fucking ripped down the side. She said she took the morning-after pill but it apparently didn’t do its job.” “What are you going to do?” Max asks hesitantly. This is what I love about my brother. He’s not the type who’s going to jump right into giving me unsolicited advice. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll get advice from him, but he wants to know where my head is so he can tailor it accordingly. I shrug. “Not going to do anything until I find out if it’s mine.” “Do you have any reason to doubt that it is?” “Nothing other than the fact that she was as much into a one-night stand as I was. I figure maybe she was with someone else who could have gotten her pregnant.” “And yet she came directly to you about this,” Max points out. Yeah, I already considered that, and it didn’t bode well for me. I don’t bother answering Max because that would validate what my gut instinct is telling me. That I’m the father. And I am scared fucking shiftless. Absolutely

terrified. I know I sound like a complete pussy when I tell my brother the truth. “I’m not ready for this. I’m fucking twenty-seven years old and nowhere near ready for this.” Max steps closer to me and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze and stares me right in the eye. “I know you have to be scared right now, and I know you think you’re not ready for this. But baby brother, we can get you ready for this. You’ll have me and Jules nearby, and you know there’s no doubt that Mom and Dad will be there for you, as well as Malik and Simone.” Of course I know that. My family is the fucking bomb. While I’m closest to Max because of our connection to hockey, I’m still very close to my other brother and sister and my parents. “How did she leave it with you?” Max asks. “I asked for a paternity test,” I tell him. “I don’t think that made her happy, but you know after that shit I went through with Tiffany I can’t help but be cautious.” Max nods. He is well aware of the one time I took a stab at a relationship and found out that I’d latched myself to a whole lot of crazy. After just a few weeks of exclusive dating, Tiffany

was trying to get me to pick out engagement rings. That freaked me the fuck out and I called it quits. She continued to stalk me for several weeks until I had to threaten to go to the police to get her to leave me alone. I’m not stupid enough to think all women are like this, but I am smart enough to know that this is a possibility. “What does your gut tell you?” Max asks me cautiously. With a sigh of pure resignation I tell him, “I think it’s mine. Stephanie doesn’t come across as crazy, and if she thinks I’m the father, I probably am.” Max takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Okay, this is my advice. I think you need to accept that this is probably a done deal. You need to decide what type of role you want.” “Role?” “Do you want to be actively involved in the kid’s life or do you just want to pay child support?” The look I give Max says I think he’s a dumbass. “Seriously, dude? Do you even know me at all?” Max laughs. “You’ll be involved. I know that, but I just wanted to point out…you’ve got options.”

“Moving on,” I say dryly. Because if I have a child, even though I’m not ready for it, I’m totally going to be involved. That’s serious shit and I wouldn’t ever fuck around with that. My parents definitely taught me better. “Then you need to make an effort to get to know Stephanie. If you’re going to share custody of a child, you’ve got to have some type of established means of communication.” I don’t like it, but I admit this is good advice. While Max is the romantic and would probably offer to marry a woman he got pregnant, he knows that’s not me. I would never shirk my responsibility to a child, but I don’t believe marriage is necessary to raise one. “And she definitely wants to keep the child?” Max asks me, which causes my stomach to turn sour with fear. “We didn’t talk about that,” I tell him in a panic. “She said she has a doctor’s appointment next month. You don’t think she would have an abortion, do you?” “I don’t know, man,” Max says empathetically. “Is that even a possible choice for you?” I mutter a string of curses and look at my brother helplessly. “I don’t know, Max. I don’t fucking know what to do.”

Chapter 2

Stephanie I pull up my mother’s phone number from contacts and dial it, pressing my cellphone tight to my ear. As expected, I get her voicemail. She never answers my calls, but I prefer it that way. Over the years we’ve lapsed into the habit of communicating through voicemail, because it’s just easier. I’m still reeling from the news that I am in fact pregnant. There was a part of me that didn’t believe the home pregnancy test, so I was actually faintly surprised when the doctor confirmed it. I mean…I didn’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I be feeling something if I’m pregnant? A fluttering in my stomach? Sore boobs? I know nothing of pregnancy. I have no clue what to do or how I’m going to raise a child. It’s not something I had ever planned to do. It’s not something I ever wanted to do. It’s so daunting I believe I would literally

sell my soul to the devil if I could just have one person I could confide this information to. A friend, a family member—hell, even a trusty neighborhood bartender I could spill the secret to and ask for advice. Sadly, I have no one close enough I would ever feel comfortable doing that with. I’ve got about a million and one casual acquaintances, people at work I meet out at happy hour or some girls in my yoga class that I’ve gotten coffee with on occasion. A former college roommate I see occasionally to go dancing with. But none of those people are good options to say, “Hey…I’m pregnant and I’m scared. What the hell do I do?” I’ve never let anyone in close enough to me that I could tell something so personal to. After my mom’s greeting plays, I leave a message. “Hey, it’s me. Just calling to check in and see how things are going. I know you’re in Greece and our time zones are way off, so no need to call me back.” I hang up without asking my mom to call me back so I can tell her that she’s going to be a grandmother. I’m not even sure why I called, because I knew before I ever even picked up the phone

that I wouldn’t tell her what was going on in my life. We don’t have that type of relationship at all, but if we did, and if I told her, I know I would spend the majority of the conversation trying to reassure her that becoming a grandmother didn’t mean she was getting older. With a sigh, I turn back to my email. I’ll often come in and work on the weekends to do administrative stuff, but this weekend I just didn’t have it in me what with finding out I was pregnant and needing to have an awkward conversation with the daddy. So this morning is all about trying to catch up on some neglected emails. Saturday was wholly unpleasant because I spent most of the day psyching myself up to break the news to Lucas. The actual telling him I was pregnant Saturday night in a bar parking lot was awful, and even though I know he was justified in asking for it, I wasn’t prepared for him to question paternity. That told me he thought I was pretty loose, which is and isn’t true. I’m a liberated woman who thinks sex is pretty damn awesome. I don’t shy away from one-night stands, and in fact prefer them. But I don’t do hookups often. I don’t go looking for them. If a situation presents itself and I’m interested, I’ll act. But if I go months without,

I’m okay with that too, because I’ve got a fucking awesome vibrator. Sunday I pretty much lay on my couch and binged on Netflix, not feeling motivated to do anything at all. I’m pretty sure any therapist worth a damn would diagnose me with some situational depression. I’m just glad it’s now Monday and the work week has started, because that is something I can’t avoid. Work will force me to occupy my mind with other thoughts. A tapping on my door causes my head to snap up and I call out, “Come in.” Philip Wagoner steps into my office, and that causes me to sit up straighter in my chair. He’s the director of the museum and my boss. He’s the one who decided to promote me to interim director of acquisitions from my assistant curatorial duties. Note the key word being interim. This is not a career opportunity, as I don’t have the education or the experience to hold the position long term. The last director of acquisitions had a PhD, and I have a lowly master’s in geology. I’ve only been here at the museum for two years, and before that, my geology degree lay wasted while I worked in retail. There was no way I was going to be

considered for anything more than an interim position. Mr. Wagoner gives me a smile as he steps just inside my door. “Just stopping in to see how things are going with you.” I blink in surprise. “Um…things are going well. I’ve got a bead on a partial Claosaurus specimen. There were suspected gastroliths found with the skeleton.” “Good, good,” he says quickly, and I notice quite distractedly. I don’t even think he heard what I just said because that would be a huge acquisition for the museum if I can get it. Bobbing his head up and down on his bulky frame, he puts his hands together and starts to wring them. A classic sign of nervousness, which causes my nerves—which are already quite frayed—to fire up. “So listen,” Mr. Wagoner says to me. “We are going through final interviews for the director of acquisitions position. We should have a choice made within a few weeks.” “That’s wonderful,” I say with genuine smile. While things are going well for me at this point, it’s only because the man I replaced had some very good leads for me to follow up on. But I don’t have the contacts he did in this industry and I know there’s going to come a

time when I run dry. I just don’t have the necessary experience and this was only ever meant to be temporary. “Yes, yes,” he says, the repeat also a sign that he’s nervous talking to me. “It’s wonderful news indeed. But I actually have some not so good news to tell you about.” My stomach flips over and I know from some of the research I’ve done on pregnancy it is in no way associated with morning sickness as I’m still too early for that. I incline my head toward him and wait for him to finish. “As you know, we’ve been seriously underfunded for the last few years, and while the gala last month raised some very nice money for us, we are still struggling to meet our budget constraints.” “Let me guess,” I say softly. “My job is on the line.” Mr. Wagoner’s face turns soft with empathy. “I’m sorry, Stephanie. But we’re looking to combine the director and assistant curator’s responsibilities into one job. The person we’re hiring will be doing your job as well.” “How much time do I have?” I ask, my head already spinning with the implications of what this means to me. “At least a month,” Mr. Wagoner says, and

then he adds something that gives me a tiny ray of hope. “But we don’t want to lose you. We’re actually looking to see if we can move you laterally into another department.” I’m not going to count on that happening, though, and I’ll immediately start looking for a new job. This ordinarily would not be something that freaked me out. I’ve moved from job to job over the years managing to take very good care of myself. But these are not normal circumstances. I’m twenty-eight years old, pregnant and have no real job security now. I need health insurance and I need money to put a roof over my head and food in my belly to ensure the baby is healthy. If I can’t find a job that meets my needs, this whole pregnancy thing is about to get a lot scarier. “I’m really sorry,” Mr. Wagoner repeats. “This is the part of my job I hate the most. But we will work hard to see if we can find a place for you here with us. Obviously, I will give you an excellent reference letter and I’m sure you’ll find something very quickly.” I nod at him, and even attempt a brave smile. “Thank you, Mr. Wagoner. You don’t know how much that would mean to me.” His smile back to me is sad but relieved to

have that over with and he leaves my office without shutting the door behind him. A headache starts to brew and I put my fingertips to my temples to massage the pain away. I close my eyes and let out a frustrated groan, wondering how my life could get any more complicated. I hear a soft knock on my door and I slowly raise my head as I open my eyes. I suppress another groan as I take in a big mountain of complication standing there. Luc Fournier at the threshold to my office. “You okay?” he asks, his expression worried. I put on a completely fake smile, my voice coming out not as light as I’d like it. “Yeah. Totally fine. What are you doing here?” Luc apparently takes that as permission to come into my office and he takes a seat in the only extra chair I have across from my desk. He leans back, props one of his ankles over the opposite knee, and grips the armrest casually with his hands. “We didn’t get a chance to talk the night before last,” Luc says quietly. “You kind of rattled me with the news.” I nod in understanding because I’ve been rattled ever since I took that home pregnancy test.

“I was going to email you,” he continues. “But that seemed too impersonal. Then I was going to call you, but that didn’t seem right either. So I decided to come here to see you.” “What is there to talk about?” I ask him curiously, because honestly, until he gets the paternity test back, I assumed he wouldn’t worry about this. “Are you considering an abortion?” This question is so unexpected I actually jerk backward from the shock of it. He continues without waiting for my answer. “Because if you are, I would like to be involved in that consideration. If that’s what you want, I would totally respect it and would support you. That has to be your choice. But if you want to know what I would want, I would ask that you not go that route.” He renders me speechless for a moment as I wonder if I should tell him that I had in fact considered an abortion. I am the last person in the world who knows how to raise a child properly. I have no concept of what a real family is because I don’t have one. The fear of putting my dysfunctional view on this child has given me great pause. But ultimately, I knew I couldn’t do it. I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge

or responsibility. I realized that I have to take responsibility for this because that’s just the way I am. I’ve been taking responsibility for myself since I was a young child. “I don’t want to have an abortion,” I tell Luc, and I don’t miss the way his shoulders relax with this news. “I’ll raise the baby by myself if you don’t want any part of it.” His eyebrows draw inward and his eyes are troubled. “I’m prepared to support this child if it’s mine.” “Well,” I grit out, as I don’t like the reminder that he’s not accepting my word on this. “You won’t know that for another month, so that brings me back to my original question. What are you doing here?” He doesn’t take the opportunity to strike back at me but gives a sigh that’s filled with frustration and perhaps a yearning for a return to what his life was like before he met me. “I figured if we were going to go through this together,” he replies cautiously, “we should at least try to get to know each other a little bit.” I give him a smile that’s not a smile and tell him sweetly, “And I’ll be glad to do that after the first appointment and you’re satisfied about paternity.”

“Goddammit, Stephy,” Luc snarls at me as he sits up straight in his seat. “This is hard on me too. I’m not ready to be a father.” “Well, I’m not ready to be a mother,” I snap back at him. “I actually think I believe you when you say the baby is mine,” he says. “That’s a quite the turnaround,” I mutter. “I had a bad experience in my past that may have colored my initial judgment of this situation,” he explains to me. “I’m sorry…but the first place my head went to was that I was getting played.” This is actually something I could see happening to a professional athlete. “Someone claimed you got her pregnant?” He shakes his head quickly. “No, not that. But someone I think was seeing dollar signs when she looked at me.” I wince. That actually kind of sucks, so I get why he may have had some qualms with me claiming I was pregnant. “So you’re going to give me the benefit of the doubt now?” I ask to make sure I understand what he’s saying. Luc smiles at me, and this time it is genuine through and through. “I believe that’s the right

thing to do. And I am serious…I think we should get to know each other. I want to be involved. Having a kid is a big deal and I don’t want to miss out on anything. If I’m going to be involved, it will make things easier. If you’ll let me, that is.” I have a moment of unfettered relief over the realization that I’m not going to go through this alone. Thirty seconds ago I had no one I could talk to, and now I’ve got Luc standing in front of me saying he wants to be on this very scary journey with me. It’s profoundly comforting, even if I’m ordinarily not one that takes to friendship very well. I smile back at him and try to lighten the mood just a little, as well as making sure that I’ve got no expectations other than having his involvement as a father along with me. “I’ve got no problem with us trying to get to know each other. Just don’t go down on bended knee and ask me to marry you, because the answer will be no.” I’m thankful he’s not offended by this. He chuckles and says, “I’m pretty sure we can muddle our way through this without having to get married.” It works well for me that he’s not oldfashioned to the extent that he believes

marriage is the solution to this unplanned pregnancy. If he were to be so gallant as to offer it, the answer would be 100 percent no because I don’t intend to ever get married. I hadn’t intended to have a child, but well…I’m going to have to adapt now. I come from a family that’s so fucked up we took the “function” out of “dysfunctional” in all of the psychiatry books. He has no clue that I have no idea how to provide a family atmosphere for this child, but I sort of get the idea that he does just by the way he’s stepping up to take responsibility. I’m going to have to learn how to be a decent parent, and I’m going to have to figure out how to accept his support, since I’m so used to just doing things for myself. But that’s not something I can explain right now, because Luc is a perfect stranger to me. Perfect would be the key word in that description, because he is even far yummier in daylight, I’m ashamed to note. When I saw Luc at the gala, I was instantly attracted to him. He has those all-American looks, which is funny, since he’s French Canadian. Yes, I know a lot about Luc as well as many members of the Cold Fury, since I’m a big fan. And while I can totally appreciate his talent on the ice, his physical looks push every single

one of my buttons. The first thing you notice is that he’s tall and well built. But up close, it’s a tie between his sexy hazel eyes and a pair of very full lips, which I can attest are highly skilled. His dark brown hair is longish, with a slight wave and cut into various layers that fall over his forehead and ears but don’t touch his collar. Yes, I saw Luc, and the minute he started flirting with me, I was all in. It has been awhile for me…being with someone. Luc was my first step back into that arena, and while I would absolutely go back and change things if I could, I will never forget the soul-stripping orgasm he gave me. I’m not sure I’ll find another man who will ever screw me the way Luc did. So bottom line, I’m not averse to getting to know him because I absolutely want to have a good parenting relationship with him. But that’s all I want. Okay, I want that amazing freaking sex as well. But that would totally muddy the waters and we have enough stress as it is. “Okay then,” I say with a bright smile. “You interested in grabbing some lunch and maybe we can talk some more?” “So we’re cool?” he asks.

“We’re cool,” I say with no hesitation. We are definitely cool, and that’s the way I want to keep it. “Let’s go. I’ll buy you lunch.” Luc stands up with a returned smile. “I’ll buy you lunch.” I stand up as well. “Then let’s go. I’m starving.”

Chapter 3

Lucas “Dude,” I say nervously. “I need a beer.” “Fridge,” is all Max says as he starts the grill, but his smile says he’s amused at me. I head back into the house from the upstairs deck, through the formal living room, past the sunroom, where Jules does her painting, and into the kitchen. Jules is spreading pink icing on a cake. She looks up at me briefly, smiles, and goes back to her task. “Strawberry?” I ask as I walk to the refrigerator. “What gave it away?” she asks drolly with her eyes pinned to the cake as she works. “Smart ass,” I return affectionately. “Big dumb caveman,” she quips back, also with affection. There was a time just about five months ago where I’d offended the shit out of Jules and I

didn’t think our relationship would ever recover. It was the first time I’d met her and later I questioned Max about her motives for being with him. Again, that whole gold digger complex I have going on. Sadly, Jules overheard me and it took a while for our relationship to thaw after that. Now that I live here in Raleigh, and better yet, less than five miles away, I’m around. A lot. Jules practically had no choice but to start to like me. I like hanging with Jules’s kids: Levy, Rocco, and Annabelle. I also like hanging with my brother, and guess what…I also really like hanging with Jules. She’s perfect for my brother and a fucking amazing woman. He’s a lucky bastard for sure. “Why aren’t the kids here?” I ask her as I twist the top off the beer. “We thought it might be a little less intimidating to Stephanie if just the four of us had dinner together,” she says slyly. “They’re spending the evening over at Kate and Zack’s.” This bums me out for two reasons. Mostly because I’ve come to love those little rug rats and I probably end up spending more time with them when I come over than I do with Max and Jules. But also because I thought they

might be a bit of a buffer between Stephanie and me, because I find everything to be very awkward at this point. I suppose there’s a reason we have onenight stands. You engage in the most intimate activity imaginable with a near stranger and then you go your separate ways. It doesn’t get any more awkward than impregnating that stranger. Lunch with Stephanie earlier this week did nothing to enlighten me about who she is. While I still pretty much trust her when she says the baby is mine, I find her to be a little elusive, which is a glaring difference since I tend to be an open book. It’s so weird, though. Her outgoing personality is what attracted me to her after I got dazzled by her beauty. She’s funny, charming, sexy, and confident, all things that get my dick hard. She knew just what to say and when to say it, and is the type of person who would be the center of attention at any social gathering. A sexually liberated creature, she knew how to fuck like there was no tomorrow, and her dirty mouth rivals mine. But at lunch she couldn’t have been more evasive about her life. I finally gave up and yielded to the million questions she asked me, from what it was like being raised in French Canada to playing in the NHL to my home life

growing up. She has an insatiable curiosity and you can tell she’s a listener. She likes to hear what people have to say. But she’s not a big talker. The most I got out of her was that her parents became very wealthy in the tech industry and were workaholics, however they did like to travel quite a bit. I learned that she’s originally from Northern California—which explains her parents being in the tech industry—and that she came east to go to NC State University for its zoology program, then after she got her bachelor’s, she did a master’s in geology. Past that, I have no clue why she even likes zoology or geology or how she got to the point she wanted to work in a museum. Like I said, she controlled most of the conversation by asking me questions and listening with intense interest in me. Many would find that type of attention super flattering, but I would have liked to know more about her since we’re going to be in each other’s lives now. At the end of lunch, we made tentative plans for me to accompany Stephanie for her first prenatal appointment, which is three weeks away. She’ll be eight weeks pregnant by then. Jules is the one who came up with the idea for this cookout today. If Stephanie and I are going to raise a child together, that means she

will be around my family to a certain extent. Thus, it was a pretty good idea to invite Stephanie over in a low-pressure atmosphere to have some food and relaxing conversation to further get to know each other. And I need low pressure right now, as I’m completely rattled by Stephanie in about a million different ways, not least of which is the fact I’m still insanely attracted to her and I’m wondering how to tamp down those feelings. Ordinarily I’m never unsure about women, but Stephanie is not ordinary in any way. She was the best fuck of my life, and now she’s a pregnant woman I’m trying to get to know. And I don’t want her to be pregnant. I want her to be a great fuck again, because I still want her, and yet this whole broken-condompregnancy thing has put a very weird spin on things. I’m hoping at the very least that at the end of tonight, I’ll have a better grasp on how we’re going to move forward with this pregnancy. The doorbell rings and I practically jump out of my skin. Jules snickers and I flip her off. “I’ll get it,” I grumble, and head back to the formal living room before turning right to the front door foyer. Max and Jules have a double front door that’s mostly glass in a wood frame. It provides me a stunning and clear look at

Stephanie as she stands there clutching with both hands the purse strap that’s over her shoulder. The late-afternoon sun causes her crimson hair to practically glow, and it’s a good thing she’s wearing sunglasses because I would be equally hypnotized by her blue eyes as I am by her curls. She gives me a tentative smile through the glass as I open the door and invite her in. “I’m glad you could make it.” Stephanie steps into the foyer and I get a whiff of her perfume, which has an exotic and spicy bite to it. It totally suits her. She takes off her sunglasses and shoves them into her purse. “Thanks again for inviting me,” she says softly, and I can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s as nervous as I am. For some reason, this gives me a massive boost of confidence and I reach down impetuously to take her hand. Squeezing it, I assure her, “None of us bite. Well, I actually do, but only in the heat of passion.” I immediately want to snatch those words back, as I didn’t mean to make a sexual innuendo. I don’t want to make this any more uncomfortable than it already is, particularly since we had wild, pulse-pounding,

uninhibited sex that goes beyond the norms of what strangers do with each other. Thankfully, Stephanie just chuckles and squeezes my hand back. Once again, we’re holding hands and not letting go. “I appreciate your efforts to put me at ease. Nothing like a sex joke to do that.” She’s not only not offended, but she seems to be amused, and this is the lightest her voice has sounded since I found out she was pregnant. I don’t want to lose that and I scramble to maintain it. “Well, sex makes everything better, right?” I ask in a low voice with a devilish grin. “Totally right,” she agrees with a laugh. It’s then that the slight coughing noise behind us gets our attention, and our hands pull apart involuntarily. I turn and see Jules standing there with a welcoming smile on her face. She steps forward and puts her hand out to Stephanie. “Hey, Stephanie. I’m Jules and I’m so glad you accepted our invitation.” The women shake hands and I can tell by her posture that Stephanie is back on guard again. Still, she smiles at Jules and says, “It was really nice of you to invite me. And I think

Luc has the right idea…that we need to establish some sort of friendship if we’re going to go through this together.” Jules releases the handshake, choosing instead to loop her arm through Stephanie’s. She pulls her past me toward the kitchen, chattering to her like they were old lost friends. “Lucas tells me you’re from Northern California,” Jules says as I follow them. Once they get to the kitchen, Jules motions to one of the stools that sit at the center island and Stephanie takes a seat. I merely lean up against the entryway, fold my arms across my chest, and listen. “Max and I are thinking about touring some wineries there in the summer.” Stephanie’s face brightens, and then she enthusiastically launches into some of the wineries that Max and Jules needs to try. In this moment, I see the same woman that flirted with me that night at the gala. In this brief moment, she’s not weighed down about the pregnancy or how her life has so dramatically changed against her will. So very different from the closed-off Stephanie I got at lunch. I don’t think it’s necessarily me who closes her off, and I get the distinct impression that the consequences of what we did are

weighing heavier on her than they are on me. In this moment, I tell myself I’m going to figure out why that is. — I have to give it to Max and Jules. Tonight was a perfect and relaxing evening. We eventually moved out onto the deck, and because it was a little chilly, Max turned on some outdoor space heaters. He then managed to grill some superb barbecue ribs and we ate that along with Jules’s southern potato salad and baked beans. The strawberry cake was served a little bit later as we sat around the outdoor table and chatted. Max and I let Jules lead. She had established a quick and easy rapport with Stephanie, and because it was working so well, I let her run with it. It was nice to sit back and just listen and learn. Jules didn’t necessarily get any deeper or personal information about Stephanie’s family than I was able to get, but her life since she became an adult has been interesting. She left home at eighteen and came to NC State in Raleigh, North Carolina, on a full-ride academic scholarship. She did mention that this was done against her parents’ wishes, and

when Jules asked her about that, she managed to keep it vague with a simple, “They didn’t approve of my choice of careers.” That of course launched into a very long discussion about how Stephanie ended up where she did. Turns out she never had a burning desire to be a curator or a director at a museum, but she took the job because there’s not a whole hell of a lot you can do with a zoology bachelor’s and a geology master’s. “Then why did you bother with pursuing those degrees?” I had asked her. She just shrugged and said, “I like rocks and minerals. What can I say?” I laughed along with everyone else, but I didn’t believe what she said. I can tell that Stephanie doesn’t have a passion for either zoology, geology or the museum that she works at. It seems to me that more than anything, it was a means to an end. I know this about her, and I can make the comparison, because when she talks about something she’s extremely passionate about she’s a different person. I observed the differences when Jules found out that Stephanie likes to work with the elderly, a subject that came about naturally since Jules works part time at a nursing home.

I don’t know why that revelation stunned me, but it did. Steph apparently donates her time to a nonprofit that delivers meals to housebound geriatrics, and she also volunteers at some of the local nursing homes by visiting patients who don’t have family members. This, of course, was right up Jules’s alley, so the ladies had plenty to talk about. At that point, Max and I were almost completely cut out of the conversation so we talked about the playoffs that were coming up. And now the evening has wound down and I’m walking Stephanie out to her car. I’m not going to be leaving just yet as I want to get Max’s and Jules’s impression of her, but I thought it was the polite thing to do. There’s certainly no other purpose, like perhaps seeing if she’s any different with me when we’re alone and after spending a few relaxed hours together. Pulling her keys from her purse, Stephanie turns to me with a laid-back smile. “Thanks for a great evening. I had a lot of fun.” “Then I’m glad,” I tell her as I open her car door for her. “I’m also glad we didn’t talk about the pregnancy tonight,” she says softly, her eyes lowering to the ground.

“There’s plenty of time to talk about that,” I assure her. “Just wanted you to meet some of my family since they’ll be going through this with me.” Stephanie’s gaze comes back up to mine and this time there’s a sparkle of mischief. “You don’t plan on having them in the delivery room, do you?” I bark out a laugh as I toss my head back. When I look at her again, I’m shaking my head. “Trust me…I’m the only one in this family who will be looking at your—” My words abruptly cut off as I realize the dual mistake I made. Bringing up sex and implying that I was going to get it again from her. Once again, my foot gets shoved into my mouth. A sheepish smile takes my mouth hostage. Stephanie cocks an eyebrow at me, but the smirk on her face tells me she’s amused. “I’m sorry,” I say hastily. “I don’t know why I keep talking about sex with you. I mean…not that I don’t like sex, because I do. Actually, I love it.” Stephanie tilts her head to the side and says, “And why is it that we shouldn’t talk about the sex we had? I mean, it was phenomenal.” “Yes, it was,” I agree with her.

Best. Sex. Ever. “Look,” she says as she lays a hand on my forearm. “This is new territory for both of us. I get that it’s awkward, but we need to move past that. Otherwise we’re going to be in for a miserable time over the next several months.” “I agree,” I say readily. “We should have sex again,” she says at the same time. “What?” I exclaim even as my groin tightens at the thought. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to fantasizing about that night a time or twenty. But I wasn’t prepared for the possibility that that could happen again, because it just seemed selfish to say, “Hey…sorry I knocked you up, but I’d really like to fuck you again.” “Well, why not?” Stephanie says simply as her hand falls away. “You and I are both healthy adults, I certainly can’t get any more pregnant, and we clearly had amazing chemistry. I’m single. You’re single—or at least I assume you are—and we both enjoy sex.” Well, fuck…when you say it like that, why the hell aren’t we having sex right this very minute? Instead I try to throw some logic out, but I really hope she shoots it down. “It could complicate things.”

“Not if we agree it would be casual,” she says, and I like the way this woman thinks. There are a million reasons why this would be a bad idea. I know nothing about Stephanie, and yet I have no choice but to try to forge an alliance with her so we can successfully parent our child. Sex would complicate everything, because sex is about emotion, it’s about feeling and opening up. Much of that may be physical, but physical can lead to the nonphysical. How much are we going to both be at risk for confused or hurt feelings when that happens and then doesn’t work out? Because Stephanie doesn’t seem like a relationship type of girl, and I definitely don’t want to be in a committed relationship. I like being single way too much. “But if you don’t think that’s possible,” she says quickly, “I’m cool with that as well.” “Now wait a minute,” I say as a hold my palms up to her and ignore logic and reason. “Let’s not be that hasty. This could have some merit.” Stephanie’s eyes start to sparkle again as she grins at me. “You know, I’ve been researching pregnancy, and apparently my hormones are going to be a little wacky. I’ve heard a very unfortunate side effect is that I will be

extremely horny.” I bust out with a forceful, elated laugh that she can bring humor to the situation. It definitely helps to put me more at ease, and also makes my dick harder because she’s taking away every reason I could have to keep her at arm’s length. Stepping in close to her, I peer down so I can confirm the truth in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “I don’t see any downside,” she says breathlessly, although we both know that’s just not true. But if she thinks we can have a casual relationship based on sex and it won’t interfere with the new relationship we’re trying to establish, then I think I need to take advantage of that. Even though I know this could be a colossal mistake, I dip my face down to hers until our mouths are almost touching. “Did I happen to mention that my house is less than five miles from here?” Stephanie practically purrs at the suggestion, and now I’m fully hard. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter 4

Stephanie I wonder if Luc thinks I’m a complete skank because I’m into sex with him. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come on so strong, but it’s hard to regret doing so when what we’re about to do is going to be amazing. The way I grew up ensured I’d be rebellious at some point, and rebellion at a young age often included sex when you weren’t supposed to be having it. I learned early that it not only feels good but it can give you things you can’t get elsewhere. It can give you emotional connection without having to sacrifice yourself for it—a brief, glorious connection when both of you are united in passion. For someone who craved to just be noticed for so long and never got it, sex filled a big void for me. And the best thing about casual sex was that I could walk away if I wanted, because I found that I really wasn’t prepared for something more than a brief fling Anything else was too overwhelming. So casual was the

name of the game for me, and if feelings grew on the other side, and he wanted something deeper outside of the bedroom, well…that wasn’t something I could quite let myself open up to. I wonder if I should explain this to Luc, but then I chastise myself for even wondering. It’s none of his business why I am the way I am, and I refuse to care if he looks down on me because I enjoy casual sex. He’s the one who invited me into his home tonight. And it’s nothing like I imagined a professional hockey player would live in. It’s actually quite small, although it’s very pretty. Illuminated by well-placed exterior lighting, the house has dark gray siding with white trim and black shutters. It sits on a small hill that takes up the corner of a block of similar-looking homes. The landscaping I can see in the glow of the lights looks professionally done, as the grass is pristine and there are a variety of bushes and plants that you can tell were all carefully placed so that it looks artful. I’d followed Luc here in my car and parked behind him on the street. When I get out of my car, he’s waiting for me with a hungry expression as he takes my hand. We walk up

the sloped driveway that intersects with a concrete path that leads to the porch and I tell him, “Your house is lovely.” “It’s cute, but it’s not mine,” he says as he trots up the porch steps and opens a screen door. “I decided to rent for six months when I moved here so I could get a better lay of the land before I decided to buy. One of my teammates, Van Turner, is rooming with me. He’s also new to the team.” Luc opens the front door and then steps back, motioning me in before him. The house is older and the living room is tiny. It’s totally a bachelor pad, though, as there’s nothing but a couch and a large-screen TV with various components on the opposite wall. The kitchen attaches, separated by a small island with a window that looks out over the backyard. To my right is a short hall with what looks like a room on either side and perhaps a bathroom. My breath hitches when Luc comes to stand behind me, slipping my purse off my shoulder and lowering it to the floor. My nipples tighten when he pulls my hair away from my neck and gives me a feathery kiss there. “I’m not even sure what to do with you,” he murmurs as he brings his other hand to my breast. He cups it gently and squeezes, and

holy hell that feels good. Stepping back, I press my ass into him, letting my head fall to rest below his shoulder, which pushes my breast into his hand. “If you can’t come up with anything unique right now, I’m cool with a repeat of our first time.” Luc gives a low, rumbling laugh that reverberates through me, and I can’t help the smile that comes to my face. Perhaps for my temerity or perhaps he’s just testing, but he pinches my nipple through the layers of my sweater and bra, and he’s not nice about it. I buck and moan at the same time, the pain from that pinch shooting straight down between my legs where that familiar and much-wanted heat and wetness start to bloom. Dropping his hand from my breast to spread wide over my jeans-covered sex, he pushes me back into him and growls against my neck, “Can you feel how hard I am for you?” I’m only able to nod because he makes me breathless with his touches and dirty talk. “We went at it hard the last time, didn’t we?” His voice is guttural and filled with need. I nod again and manage to whisper, “We did.” Luc contracts his fingers and gives me a rough squeeze between my legs. “Hard enough

we shredded a fucking condom.” If I thought the mention of the broken condom would put a bucket of cold water on this, I’d be wrong. Because it’s not the pregnancy I’m thinking about but rather the feeling of him inside of me, hitting me deeper than I’ve ever been hit before, and the orgasm that produced was unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. “We should totally do that again,” he murmurs before biting me on the neck. “Yes, again,” I agree as I rock against his hand. — “Well, that wasn’t exactly like the last time,” I mutter as Luc and I lie side by side on his bed. Both of us are breathing heavy and covered in sweat, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t take me up against a door, preferring instead to have me on his bed, on my back with my legs pushed high and wide by his hands. He thrust into me with the same ferocious abandon as our first time, but this was even better. There was absolutely no holding back. No fears. No wondering what the other person could handle.

We didn’t have to wear a condom or worry about knocking me up. We both knew that the other liked it rough and hard. “We’ll go slower next time,” Luc huffs out from beside me, our shoulders barely touching. I laugh as I turn my head and look from the ceiling to him, my entire body still slightly trembling from my orgasm. Luc lifts up and rolls to his side, resting his head in his palm with his elbow pressed into the mattress. His free hand comes out to lie on my stomach, and then he strokes upward over my breasts. He spends a few quiet moments as we regain control of our breathing, lightly circling his fingertips over my nipples, which is not doing much to calm me down. I watch him watch his hand glide over me. He’s got a peaceful smile on his face, his hair standing up in a dozen different directions, as my hands were fisting it not too gently for a while. This gentle caressing is completely erotic and yet sweet at the same time. Luc’s eyes slide down my body right along with his hand. Back down over my stomach until he’s skimming through my tightly trimmed curls. I hold my breath but it comes

out in a massive rush as he drags just his fingertip down through my lips, causing my legs to fall open. He doesn’t push inside of me, but just gently swirls it around in his semen I can feel leaking out of me. Then he draws that liquid up and circles it around my clit. My hips come off the bed, but then his hand is gone. He raises it up close to his face, rubs his index finger and thumb together, perhaps testing the silkiness of the moisture he’d just collected. I’ve never seen a man do that before, because, hello, never had sex without a condom before, but I’m almost hypnotized by it. Just like he caressed me a moment ago, it’s strangely erotic yet sweet at the same time. His gaze slides to mine for a moment then back to his fingers still rubbing together. “Strange isn’t it?” His deep voice rumbles in a slow cadence. “What’s that?” Luc looks back at me, and the intensity of his expression causes my breath to hitch again. Holding his hand up and nodding his head to it, he says, “That this little bit of liquid had the ability to change our lives so drastically.” I can’t even answer him because now that the haze of lust and sex is settling, the talk of the pregnancy causes anxiety to well up inside

of me. And for the first time, I have a sense of dread over what’s to come, causing a wave of doubt to course through me. “I better get going,” I say as I raise up, startling Luc in the process. “What?” he asks. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I say, “I better get home. I’ve got some things to do.” He answers by wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me back into the bed. Sensing that I’m not going to just stay, he pushes me to my back and then covers my body with his own. His forearms go to the mattress at my ribs and I’m effectively caged in place. “It’s a Friday night. What could you possibly have to do that you’d have to run out of here so fast?” My instinct is to push against him, argue, make up a lie about what I need to do. Something. Anything to get out from under his amazing body and his gaze filled with slight worry. But instead I find myself giving up a part of myself that stuns me because I would never give it up to anyone else in this world. Maybe

it’s that we now share a bond growing inside of me, or maybe I just need him to know that I’m all kinds of fucked up. “I don’t know if I can do this.” Luc’s frowns at me, even as his eyes soften with sympathy. “You can do this, and do you want to know how I know?” I bite my lower lip and just nod, afraid to trust my voice. “Because I said almost those exact words to Max the night you told me, and do you know what he told me?” I shake my head, still biting my lip as I stare at him. “He reminded me that I might not be ready for this, but he would help me get ready. My family and friends would help me get ready. So I’ll say the same thing to you.” I can’t help the short burst of laughter that pops out of my mouth. “I don’t have anyone to help me get ready.” Luc tilts his head and blinks a few times. “You have me. But what about your family?” “No one,” I repeat, and he opens his mouth I can tell to throw out possibilities to me. I shut it when I say, “I have no close friends. My parents aren’t an option.”

With eyebrows raised, Luc asks, “Where are they?” “Currently sunning in Greece,” I say in a flat voice. “No other family.” “None?” I can tell this concept is foreign to him by the disbelief in his voice. “I’ve got a few aunts, uncles, and cousins, but I don’t know them.” “And no friends?” he asks again, because, well…that’s just pathetic, right? My face heats with embarrassment. I mean, who in the fuck doesn’t have at least one good friend in their life? So I turn defensive because I’m not sure I can really explain why I can’t connect to people on a deeper level. “That’s by my choice.” “But your lack of family isn’t?” he throws back at me. “No, that’s not by my choice,” I whisper. “I was never given the choice.” Luc drops his face closer to mine. “I don’t understand. What’s that mean?” My eyes drop to his shoulder, as I’m unable to answer his question. “Stephy,” Luc murmurs soothingly as his hand comes to my chin, tilting my face back so

I look at him. “What’s the deal with your family? You can trust me.” No one’s ever insisted on this information. I’ve been on plenty of dates or met potential new friends who are naturally curious, and talking about family is something that most people do. But the minute someone wants to know about my family and get close to me with that knowledge, I shut them down. I close off completely. I was successful putting Luc off that day at lunch and I could easily do the same now. But for some reason, the way those warm hazel eyes are leveled at me with a need to understand, makes some of the anxiety in my chest break loose. So I decide to give him just a little something in the hopes it will make him understand my insecurities and accept the faults that come with them. “My parents are virtual strangers to me.” “Why?” he asks, his voice raspy with emotion because he just got a taste as well of the flatness in my voice that happens when I talk about them. It’s the way I have to keep the emotional distance from the pain they’ve inflicted on me. “My parents never wanted children,” I tell

him, and his brows furrow deeply inward at my confession. “I was an accident, born to two completely self-absorbed, powerful, highly successful people who didn’t have time to devote to kids when they had to cultivate their success.” “How do you know this?” Luc asks, and I can tell by the fury in his voice and the heat in his eyes that there was no way he’d ever turn his back on his child. He may have been scared at first, and he may be a playboy, but Luc is a family man for sure. He’d never want to know that I’d sneak around our huge mansion and spy on my parents just so I could see them. How I witnessed them have millions of conversations with each other, and it was never about me. Or how when I’d done something bad, they would remind me of why they didn’t want kids. It was a common tactic they used to get me to behave, but all it did was make me act out more so I could be noticed. I can’t tell him any of that because it’s almost unbelievable that two people who created the miracle of human life could be so detached and neglectful. I choose not to answer his question, as it’s also too painful for me to even admit I’m a bit

of a tragic figure, so I deflect. “Can I ask you why you decided to jump in feet first and be involved in my pregnancy?” “I didn’t want to at first,” he says soberly. “I didn’t want to give up my lifestyle, and I sure didn’t want that responsibility at this stage in my life. I was pissed and I was selfish. I can’t speak for your experience, but for me…the most important thing in the world to me is my family. We’re so close and supportive of each other. Max was the first one I turned to, and he gave me all the reassurance I needed so I’d have the confidence to go forward. And I just realized that this little ’accident’ we had would do nothing but enrich my family.” I wince as he uses the word accident, because he’s not saying it negatively but so I would understand it’s a blessing to someone like him. This helps me to understand his motivations better, although it’s a little hard for me to swallow that he seems so on board with this now. “Don’t you have any doubts?” I press him. “You just seem so cool with all this.” Luc smiles at me, and my breath catches at how beautiful his face is. “I’m still scared, Stephy. But I’m also excited too. I’ve always wanted kids and it’s just happening on a

different timetable than what I expected.” Not me. Not ever. Well, until now. “Have you told your parents?” I ask him. He shakes his head. “I thought we should wait until after your first OB appointment. Max suggested that. I didn’t want to get them all excited, and God forbid something were to happen early on.” I nod in understanding, and I’m insanely curious about his parents being excited over this. Their son knocked up a one-night stand. Why would that cause excitement? But as I said, family is a foreign concept, just as it’s a foreign concept to Luc that I’m not close to mine. So I feel like perhaps I should enlighten him just enough so he knows that the only one on my side he’ll ever have to deal with is me. “My first cohesive memories as a child are of Hilda, my nanny,” I tell him, and I feel his body lock tight at those words. I can’t hold his gaze, so I put a hand to his shoulder and stare at that. “I thought she was my mother for a long time, and wasn’t quite sure who my mom and dad were. They would flit in and out, pat me on the head, and bring me gifts, but I just didn’t understand what my relationship was to

them. I can remember one time I called Hilda Mommy and she explained to me who my mommy and daddy really were. But as I got older, it became even clearer to me that I wasn’t wanted, and never more so than when I got sent off to boarding school when I was nine. Until I graduated high school, I spent most of my time away from home.” “The summers?” Luc asks softly. “I was enrolled in camps to keep me occupied while they traveled. Horseback riding, fencing…whatever rich snotty brats do, I was there.” Luc shifts, settling his frame down onto mine, but still keeps his torso off me with his arms supporting his weight. “So you had absolutely no relationship with your parents?” “They’d say hello to me if we crossed paths in the house, or they’d buy me whatever I needed. I had an unlimited credit card from the time I was thirteen. They founded a tech company together right after they graduated from college and they worked ninety-hour weeks. Then to compensate, they’d take month-long vacations without me because they were rich and could afford to. My dad was from money anyway, so it was just their lifestyle.”

“I don’t understand. What about holidays? And birthdays?” “My birthday is in October, so I was always at school,” I tell him, and I begin to feel guilty as his eyes start to go flat. “At Christmas there were lots of presents, but no parents to open them up with. Just Hilda, who I’m sure is the one who bought all of the presents and played Santa Claus.” “I can’t fucking believe this,” he says angrily, but it’s not in a way that he’s doubting me. He’s pissed on my behalf, and that disconcerts me. “You had absolutely no family? Ever?” “I had Hilda for a long time,” I tell him, a fond, sad smile coming to my face as I think of her. “She had been my father’s nanny, so she was actually more of a grandmother to me than anything. I think she was close to retiring when I was born, but I guess she stayed on because she knew my parents didn’t want me. “ “And she’s dead now?” Luc asks for clarification. “When I was seventeen she took a bad fall down our stairs and broke her hip,” I say after giving a cough to clear my throat. “She had to have surgery, then went to a rehab facility. She was never able to come back to work and

eventually landed in a nursing home. My parents paid for it, so they weren’t completely coldhearted.” “And that’s why you like to visit nursing homes,” he says. “Bingo,” I say with a marginally larger smile. “I visited Hilda there every week. All of her family was back in England and she’d been working for the Fraziers for decades as a housekeeper and caretaker of the children. They’d all drifted apart and she only had me who cared enough to visit, so in some ways, Hilda and I were a lot alike. We only really had each other.” Luc just stares at me, his eyes leaving mine briefly to roam over my face, but when they return to focus on me, he says, “I’ve never heard anything like that before. I consider myself to be fairly well traveled, and being a professional sports player, I’ve met hundreds and hundreds of people in my career. And I never, ever knew that parents could do that.” “Oh come on, Luc,” I say teasingly, because I can tell he’s really bothered by this. “There are parents who abuse their kids, and others who neglect them. I’m not unusual.” “No, what you describe is different,” he says, and I actually shiver from a wave of iciness

that runs up my spine. “There are tons of kids who get abused, but at least they’re seen and acknowledged. And many are neglected, but often because of drugs or other addictions. But your parents had the means and ability to at least try to be parents on some level, even if it was just the bare minimum. It sounds like they never even saw you, probably while they were looking right at you. To be utterly abandoned by the people who are inherently supposed to care for you with unconditional love has got to be torture.” I swallow hard, my nose starting to prickle as tears well. I don’t cry often, so I try to push it down. “Look…this is why I don’t like to talk about them. Yes, it’s horrible, but it’s defined who I am and I’ve accepted it.” “And what is the definition of Stephanie Frazier?” he asks. I can’t tell him that I’m pissed as hell at my parents and they’ve fucked up how I view the world and people. I can’t tell him because I don’t want to be pathetic, so I tell him something else that is also true, but covers up my deepest flaws. “She’s funny, this you know.” My voice has gentled and I smile as I put my hands in his hair. “She’s independent, bold, and a risk

taker. She likes sex a lot, but really, really likes it with you. She’s pretty much handled anything that life has handed her and she’s done that without help, so she’s figured out she’s got this baby thing in hand even if she’s still a little scared. And most of all, she’s wondering if enough time has passed for you to recharge your batteries and if you have another round left in that gorgeous body of yours.” Luc was amused as I started telling him who I was, but by the time I talk about another round of sex, his eyes are simmering with hot need. “You’re deflecting, aren’t you?” he grumbled as his lips hovered against my mouth. Absolutely true. I’ve shared enough. More than I ever have. “Not at all,” I purr just before I raise my head and run my lips over his. “I just want you again.” That’s absolutely true too, so I’ve not lied to him. And that’s all I need to say to get Luc to kiss me hard as we commence round two.

Chapter 5

Lucas So, I have to admit, this whole monogamous sex thing isn’t all that bad. Okay, not truthful. It’s fucking stupendous. At least with Stephy it is. I had two home games in a row. That meant I had access to Stephy for four solid nights, and every damn night I was with her. Van was gone on some overnight trip to his hometown that first night I brought her to my house, so I had no qualms about fucking her there, especially knowing we could be loud and raunchy. This is apparently our preferred method of having sex. That’s not to say we can’t get into a deep, slow groove on occasion, but most times we can’t control the fervor between us. There’s something chemical maybe. I’ve never had it with another woman before, but the minute I see her, I want to throw her down on the floor

and dominate the hell out of her. I want to crawl deep into her body, punish her with my cock, and have her beg for more. And she does. Always. She’s equally matched to keep up with me, and in our downtime, she’s fun to be around. So yes…never been into monogamy, but if this is what I was missing, I’m kicking myself in the ass big time. Contrary to my original concerns, things are so fucking uncomplicated with Stephy. We both know what we want—each other—so there’s no dance of seduction necessary. She gives it up freely to me and I to her. Lest you think me a total dick, let me admit that while casual, monogamous sex with Stephy is great, there is a little something missing. I didn’t realize this until this morning when I sat on the team plane waiting for everyone to complete boarding, and suddenly I wondered what she was doing. I’d left her apartment super early to have time to go home and get packed for the trip. She was barely awake when I rolled out of bed. I got a mumbled “Good luck” after I kissed her goodbye. She was sleeping on her stomach, covers kicked to the floor and that gorgeous

ass begging for me to get back in bed. But I didn’t have time, so I kissed her on her lower back, just above the swell of her butt, and then I was gone. But this morning I couldn’t stop thinking about her and I wondered what she would do today and tonight without me, and would she watch my game on TV, and then I realized…I had no idea about these things. For four straight nights we have spent the night together, fucked and slept and fucked and slept. And while I was in the midst of all of that superb sex with one of the hottest women I’ve ever been with, I never thought about anything else except superb sex with a hot woman. My mind is cleared, though. I’ve got some distance between us and I know I’ll be by myself in the hotel room tonight. And I realize most intensely that while I’ve been considering this a monogamous relationship—because in my mind, I’d been completely happy with the arrangement—I have no clue if that’s what Stephy thinks this is. After all, she’s a beautiful woman with a healthy sexual appetite. We never explicitly said that we’d be faithful to each other, and if there’s one thing I learned that first night when she told me about her family, it’s that Stephy doesn’t form

attachments very easily. Therefore, without thinking, I’d whipped out my phone and called her. I hunkered down in my seat and turned toward the window slightly. Max hadn’t boarded yet, and we normally sit together, so I had a moment of privacy if I kept my voice low. She sounded breathless when she answered. “You’re all out of breath,” I teased her. “What’s a guy to think?” She laughed. “I was running on my treadmill. What are you doing?” “Getting ready to take off soon.” “Hmmmm,” she hummed in acknowledgment. “I know I already said it, but let me say it again…good luck tonight. I’ll be watching and rooting you on.” Warmth bloomed and spread through my chest and I couldn’t prevent the sappy smile that came to my face. She was going to watch me tonight. Where would she be, though? “So where are you going to catch the game?” I asked casually. “Right here in my apartment,” she said without hesitation. “I’ve got the NHL package. I’ll be in an old pair of sweats with a bowl of

popcorn watching your every move.” That warmth burned brighter. I’ve pretty much licked every inch of her body and given her countless orgasms, but I had no clue she was that big a hockey fan. We’d never really talked about it much. I hunched into my seat further, my eyes darting around. People were boarding the plane, there was lots talking and laughing, and I probably wouldn’t be heard. “Listen, Stephy… I wanted to ask you something.” “Yes, I’ll go steady with you.” She cackled into the phone, and I smiled as I shook my head. But she stopped laughing abruptly and became serious. “Okay…sorry…couldn’t resist. What did you want to ask?” I scratched my head and she couldn’t see the sheepish look on my face, but I’m sure she heard it by the tone of my voice “Actually…that was sort of my question.” She remained silent and that wasn’t good. “Stephy?” She gave a little cough. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” I rolled my eyes, because she’s not dense, and I don’t want to play games. I lowered my voice even further. “It means I want to be exclusive with you for however long we keep

fucking each other. I only want your pussy coming on my cock, and I’m curious if you want the same.” A long, quavering gust of breath echoed through the phone and I could her the tremble in her voice because that right there just turned her on. “Okay.” “Okay?” “Okay,” she affirmed. “But…this is still just casual, right? I mean…we’re both giving each other something the other wants, and it’s mutually beneficial to us, and—” “Easy, Stephy,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m not really asking you to go steady. Just that I want the sex to be exclusive.” And even as I said that, that wasn’t quite right either. I wanted to learn more about her. I wanted her to make me laugh—which she does quite easily—and well, fuck, I want to be around her more than just when I’m balls deep. I feel at ease around her because what we do in the bed is so fucking intimate, the way we push each other. I just want…a little something extra. I got the promise back from her that this would be exclusive and she even confided in me that she actually doesn’t have a lot of hookups, but she normally wouldn’t pass up

an interesting opportunity either. It relieved me as much as it pissed me off to think about her hooking up with anyone either before or after me, but in the end she said she really liked what we had and was more than happy it being just the two of us. Now I’m lying on my hotel bed in my boxers, waiting for Van to get in. He went out after our victory over the Washington Breakers while I elected to stay in the room. I was, after all, in a monogamous relationship now and I didn’t need the temptations. I snicker to myself because there’s no way I could get tempted. I can only think about Stephy and how wild and uninhibited we are with each other. Pulling myself up higher on the bed to rest against the headboard, I dial her on my phone. She answers on the second ring. “Well, hello, Mr. Hot Hockey Dude.” I laugh as I cross an arm over my stomach, resting my other elbow on it to hold the phone to my ear. I bring my legs up, planting my feet on the mattress and stare in dismay toward my dick, which started getting hard the second I heard her voice. I try to ignore it because I have no clue how late Van is staying out and don’t want to be jerking off when he walks in.

“Are you missing me yet?” I ask her. “I am,” she says, and her voice is so sultry my dick starts to swell even more. It’s all over when she says, “So I’m going to bust out my vibrator in a little bit and take care of that.” “Jesus, Stephy,” I grumble as I bolt up off the bed and walk to the window to look out. The glass is cold and I lean my forehead against it. “Van could walk in at any time and I cannot be sporting wood or jerking off.” She laughs in delight and apologizes. “My bad. Let’s talk about something else to get that hard-on to go away. What do you think about those videos that people post popping these big puss-filled boils on their bodies?” I shudder hard and my dick deflates. “That worked.” “I hate them too.” She laughs. “Why anyone would watch that is beyond me.” “There is no one who gets my dick harder,” I tell her dryly. “But you also have amazing capacity to kill it deader than a doornail.” Stephy laughs again, and I smile as I pull my forehead away from the window. “Did you watch the game?” “Fishing for compliments?” she throws back at me.

“Well, duh.” And fuck…she giggles into the phone and I can almost envision her twirling her hair around her finger. That is so not Stephanie, but it’s adorably cute. “You played really good, Luc,” she says softly…and is that with pride in her voice? Surely not. “So you’re a big hockey fan?” I ask her. “I wasn’t until I moved to North Carolina, but I was able to score some cheap tickets when I was in college and I was completely hooked. I’m not going to lie to you, though, my jersey is an Alex Crossman jersey.” “Now that’s just cruel,” I mutter, even though I know she’s also teasing me. I make a mental note to get her one of my jerseys, then make a second note to have her wear it around me with nothing on underneath it. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” and once again, her voice is sexy silky and I actually ache with wanting her. But before my body can react accordingly, the key card at the door clicks and I know Van is back. “Listen,” I say into the phone as I turn to see Van walking in. “I’ve got to go…Van’s back, but we’ll be flying to Raleigh late Saturday night. Do you have plans for Sunday?”

“Not really.” “You do now,” I tell her as Van gives me a nod toward the phone with raised eyebrows. I hold a finger up to him. “Okay, it’s a date,” she says, then stammers. “Well, not a date…we’ll get together…for um… food or sex or something.” Laughing, I assure her, “We’ll figure it out. Talk later, okay?” “Okay,” she says chuckling. “Bye.” When I hang up, Van nods his head toward the phone again as he starts undressing. “Gonna get laid Sunday?” “Actually,” I tell him as I pull the covers back on my bed and slide in, resting against the headboard again. “I’m sort of seeing someone.” Van blinks at me a few times. We’ve only been roommates a little less than two months, but he knows how I operate. He knows it well because that’s the way he operates too, but he doesn’t get laid as often as I do. He’s kind of cranky and doesn’t like to work for it, although he’s got some type of pussy magnet, because when he does feel like it, he gets some beautiful ass, I’ll have to say. “Seeing someone?” he asks, but I can tell by his tone he doesn’t believe me.

I’m not about to tell him the full story. The only ones who know Stephy is pregnant are me, her, Max, Jules, and her doctor, and that’s the way it will stay for a few more weeks until we can make sure everything’s fine. But I will give him a little because if this continues on, he’ll be meeting Stephy at some point. “Yeah…remember that night at the museum?” “You banged someone that worked there, right?” he asks, then shakes his head like I’ve lost it. “Didn’t think it was that great, as you’ve hooked up with plenty of ass after her.” I grit my teeth. “We ran into each other recently and hooked back up. She’s cool and —” “She’s got a magic pussy?” he guesses crudely. I know he’s only joking and he’s never seen this side of me, but still…I can’t have that. “I like her,” I tell him, and that’s the truth. I’ve liked her from the moment I met her and nothing has changed about that. “So we’re going to see each other and I’ll figure it out from there.” “Well, good luck, brother,” he says as he grabs his shave kit and turns to the bathroom. “Where did you go tonight?” I ask his retreating back.

“Some titty club,” he mutters. “Who all went?” I ask, only slightly mourning the loss of my bachelor ways and hanging with my teammates. It’s not that I can’t go to a titty bar, because I so can and not be unfaithful, but well…I don’t want to go. This is fucking weird. Van stops at the threshold to the bathroom. “I went by myself.” “Why?” I ask, because several of my teammates would have been all over that. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?” Van tells me, and he’s not teasing in the slightest. “I’m not a people person. I don’t want to sit around with the boys and talk about pussy and tits. I hang with you because you’re tolerable —” “Gee, thanks,” I mutter. “I like my time alone,” he says, ignoring me. “I don’t make a good friend.” And fuck…that kind of makes me sad for the dude. I mean, I knew he was a bit of a loner because he doesn’t come out a lot, but when he and I are one on one, we get along pretty damn good. “You’ve been a decent friend so far,” I tell him, hoping to make him feel better or some

shit. Van shakes his head and his eyes are hard. “Like I said…you’re tolerable. But you’re my teammate and my roommate, and that’s it.” My eyes narrow at his back as he retreats into the bathroom, as this is a side of Van I’ve not seen and I actually suspect he might be a little drunk. He’s a total beast on the ice and can get a little vicious with the opposing team, but that’s the nature of a lot of hockey players. He can be a cranky bastard, but we all have our days, right? We’ve not been bosom buddies or anything, but I’ve been around him enough to know this is strange behavior. This isn’t the Van I know, but he’s definitely putting me at arm’s length. I make a mental note to myself to talk to Max about it and get his take. Looking back to my phone, I pull up my app and send my first ever text to Stephy. Sweet dreams. Her reply isn’t immediate but it’s before I can even get surfing good on Facebook. I flip over when I hear the chime and groan. Leave me alone. I can’t text and use my vibrator at the same time. I turn on my side, my back to Van’s bed so

he can’t see the tent I’d be making on my back, and send her a return text. You’re so bad. Going to redden your ass for that. She sends me a smiley face in return and I let that be what takes me into sleep as I set my phone on the mattress beside me and close my eyes.

Chapter 6

Stephanie I sit on my couch, legs curled up under me, and stare out my apartment window. I don’t even know what to do today. Luc said he was flying back last night and he wanted to do something today. We haven’t talked again since his call after the Breakers game, but we have texted here and there. Last text I got was last night after I’d gone to sleep. All it said was, Boarding plane. See you soon. I know I should get up and get ready, because that “soon” could be anytime, I guess. But I’m groggy because I can’t drink coffee and it takes me longer to get going nowadays without my beloved caffeine. I also feel a little off. Not sick, but maybe more tired? I’m assuming this could be from the pregnancy, or perhaps it’s the fact I tossed and turned all night, having funky dreams about pregnancy. In one I remember I gave birth to a baby hippo and I was so proud of her, but my parents

didn’t want anything to do with her. Not any type of surprise there, really. A yawn overtakes me and I sit up on the couch, stretching my arms up high. I drop them and bring a hand to my belly, which is still completely flat at six weeks. I’ve been doing a lot of reading, obviously, and the baby is about the size of a peanut right now. I resist the urge to call him or her “peanut” as I lightly stroke my abdomen, wondering what gender it is. And then an immediate wave of sadness hits me all at once and I have to rub my eyes with my knuckles so I don’t start crying. This has been happening on and off, where I’ll be giddy with excitement about the pregnancy, and then I’ll sink down into melancholy, telling myself I only want this baby because then I’ll have someone who loves me, and well…that’s just tragic. The swinging moods, I’ve read, are also normal at this time because of fluctuating hormones. I haven’t actually felt hornier or anything, but I will admit, I do crave Luc with an intensity that scares me. He’s like an addictive drug, and not just because of his stellar moves between the sheets. I’ve been discovering that he’s actually easy to hang out with. Granted, there’s not an awful lot of

talking, but when there is, it’s light and easy. No pressure for us to do anything other than have some fun while we muddle through this crazy change in our lives. A knock at the door startles me and I know it’s Luc, not because I don’t have any family or friends who would come knocking, but because I have an internal buzzing that just occurred and my body knows it’s him. The attraction we share is actually tangible, and I’ve never felt anything like this before. I push up off the couch and pad to the door. I’m still wearing my pajamas—which consist of a flimsy camisole and boy-shorts panties—and my hair is wrapped up in a knot on top of my head. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet, and there’s a day’s worth of hair on my legs. This is just great. Just before I open the door, I scrub my hands over my face and take a deep breath. I’m both excited and ambivalent about him being here. Fucking hormones. Putting my eye to the peephole, I confirm it is indeed one hot hockey player holding a white paper bag. He’s wearing a long-sleeve Tshirt, track pants, and a Cold Fury hat. I bet he’d even look amazing wearing a leotard and

leg warmers, bitterly thinking that soon I’m going to be fat and undesirable. Even as those thoughts run through my head, I snort so hard at myself that I’m actually laughing when I open the door. “There is nothing funny about you opening the door wearing that,” he says as his eyes go slowly down my body and then back up again. I smirk at him. “What were you laughing about?” he asks without making a move to come in. “You do not want to be privy to my thoughts,” I tell him with a grimace. “I went through about forty emotions all in the last ten minutes, and while I’m laughing now, I’m pretty sure I’ll be crying soon. These hormones are making me a lunatic.” Luc’s eyes turn soft with sympathy as his head tilts to the side. He gives me an understanding smile and my eyes immediately fill with tears. Oh God. Oh God, no! “You asshole,” I say as I laugh, then sob once, then laugh again. I step back, rubbing my eyes, as he walks in. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Jesus, you’re a mess,” he says softly, and then his arm hooks around my neck and he pulls me into him so he can press his lips against my forehead. “This will get better, though, right?” I nod and mumble into his chest, amazed at how wonderful a comforting embrace can feel. “I think so.” Luc releases me and I pull back to look up at him with a sheepish grin on my face. “What are you doing here? I’m a lunatic and I didn’t shave my legs. Or brush my teeth,” I say with sudden memory and clap my hand over my mouth. Luc just chucks me under the chin and says, “You’re cute.” Then he brushes by me and takes the three steps to my tiny kitchen. He holds up the bag and shakes it. “I got breakfast.” My stomach rumbles and now I suddenly feel jubilation so overwhelming I want to sing out loud like Julie Andrews on the top of an Austrian mountain. I just shake my internal head at myself and join him at my small table where he’s set the bag. I lean over, peer inside, and take in two breakfast sandwiches wrapped in white paper soaked with grease. I inhale just on a normal

breath, and take in the scent of egg, cheese, and…sausage? My stomach rolls over and nausea hits me so hard I can feel something starting to rise up my throat without any provocation. I slap my hand over my mouth and lurch back into the living room. My head spinning, I walk quickly down the tiny hall that leads to the master bedroom. The nausea gets worse and I start to run, vaguely hearing Luc say, “What the fuck?” I turn into my room, careen off the door jamb as my shoulder slams into it, and then right myself. I skid into the bathroom and drop to my knees at the toilet so hard I know there will be bruises there tomorrow. Barely making it over the top, I open my mouth and vomit like I’m being exorcised. There goes my 3 A.M. snack of pretzels and ice cream as it hits the water with an echoing splash off the toilet bowl. After the first explosion is out, I take a deep breath, hear Luc’s footsteps in the bathroom, then heave again with so much force I think my stomach starts to come out. I also make the most horrific grunt-crying type of noise as I expel not as much, but enough it splashes again. “Jesus, Stephy,” I hear Luc say, but he sounds like he’s in a box or something. Maybe

I blew out my own eardrums with the violence of how I just vomited. I heave again but nothing comes out. A cold cloth is then placed against the back of my neck as I hug the toilet, and Luc rubs my lower back as I heave again. My ribs actually hurt and I choke on some residual but highly acidic bile and I wait for it to happen again. But to my immense relief, the nausea disappears just as suddenly. In fact, I’m in the post-vomit orgasmic-like bliss that overtakes you where you feel like you could run a marathon because that’s how good you feel after throwing up. I push back from the toilet, one hand coming to hold the cloth at the back of my neck before flopping over onto my butt with a terrible groan. My bathroom is small, but I can lean back against the vanity cabinet and stretch my legs out. Rolling my head, I look at Luc, who is kneeling so close to me my thigh is pressed up against his knees. My eyes drop to my legs, then back to him. “I didn’t shave and this close you can see the stubble. I’m gross.” “You just filled a toilet with vomit,” he says with a smile, then sits beside me. “I’m pretty sure it’s not your legs that are gross.”

I snort, then we both start laughing. I move the wet cloth from the back of my neck to wipe my face as I move on to chuckles and then silence as we sit side by side. “So that’s morning sickness, huh?” Luc hazards a damn good guess. “I’m thinking sausage might not do it for me,” I mutter as I roll my head back and stare at the toilet. I then groan at the thought of having to go through this every day. “I can’t do this.” My voice is extra whiny on purpose, so I’m assuming Luc knows I’m teasing about that as well, also because he chuckles as he brings a hand down to my bare thigh and squeezes. I was prepared for this, and while being nauseous is like the worst thing in the world, I’m pretty sure it’s not what I need to be worrying about. No, that would be pushing a bowling ball out of my vagina. Rolling my head back left, I look at Luc again, and he’s smiling at me. “I’ve got your back.” “You can’t hold my hair over the toilet each time I’m sick,” I point out. “No, but you can call me if I’m not here and tell me all about it,” he says, and fuck…he’s serious. That’s not a joke. “I will totally

commiserate with you.” And that, right there. That brutally honest offer of true empathy hits me straight in the middle of my chest, which squeezes to the point I can’t breathe. We stare at each other a moment, and my mind races to make a joke. Talk about the weather. Hell, I’d take another round of vomit to make this sensation go away. If I was feeling okay, I’d distract him with sex, but that’s out. But then my lungs sort of expand and I’m able to take a breath in. When I blow it out, the tension is gone and I feel back to normal. Sort of. I still know without a doubt that Luc is in this for the long haul with this pregnancy. Put what we have in bed aside, he wants to help me. I don’t know what to do with that. I’m not sure I can handle the feelings that are being produced. Outside of Hilda, there’s never been anyone who looked out for me, and it’s incongruous to everything I’ve ever learned in life about people and relationships. So I move past it until I can figure it out.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and tell you that you aren’t getting any this morning,” I tell Luc sadly. Yes, I’m sad because I was very much looking forward to getting naked and carnal with him again. “I need to let my stomach settle a bit.” “I don’t mind,” he assures me, because despite everything, Luc is a gentleman. “Why don’t you head out and go enjoy your day,” I suggest kindly. “Salvage your Sunday. I’m going to lie on the couch and take it easy this morning.” “Like I said…you’re cute,” he says with a smirk, and then pushes up off the floor. Staring down at me, he points to the sink. “Brush your teeth, because while I may not be fucking you, I will be kissing you at some point.” I just blink at him in a daze, not really understanding. “Huh?” “I’m going to hang out with you here,” he says, but then amends, “actually, I’m going to have you tell me what does sound good for breakfast and I’m going to get it for you, and then I’m going to hang out with you. We can watch movies on the couch, and if you’re feeling better later I can fondle you. It will be a great Sunday, trust me.”

It’s absolutely impossible for me not to smile, and he takes this as my assent as he holds his hand out to me. I clutch it hard and he pulls me up from the floor so quickly I stumble and fall into him. His hands go to my shoulders to steady me, but he pulls his head back from me with an exaggerated grimace. “You are not kissing me until you brush the vomit out of your mouth,” he scolds as he turns me toward the sink. I shrug his hands off me and growl as I snap up my toothbrush. “I wasn’t trying to kiss you, jackass. I stumbled into you.” “Keep telling yourself that,” he says as he slaps me on my ass. I give a tiny yelp as I whip around to glare at him, and I consider kicking him in the nuts, but then I melt when I see the intense expression on his face. It’s filled with wonder and awe. “You are so fucking sexy when you get mad.” I roll my eyes at him and turn to grab the toothpaste, putting a little too much on the brush before I jam it into my mouth. I look at my reflection above the sink and try to ignore Luc. This becomes impossible when he steps up behind me.

I brush my teeth and try to ignore the goose bumps that break out when his hands come to my hips. He stands a good foot taller than me, so he simply looks at me in the mirror over my head. With his eyes locked on mine, my brush goes still in my mouth when he squeezes me gently. “You are so fucking sexy all the time.” I just stand there, almost hypnotized by the deep rumble of his voice and the way his eyes hold me with their intensity. “Even with your vomit breath and hairy legs, I still have a hard-on for you.” And to prove this, he steps into me, pressing his erection into my lower back. My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when they open, his gaze has softened. After pressing his lips to the back of my head, he says, “Now what do you want to eat for breakfast?” I blink once, then again, mentally shaking myself out of my Luc-induced trance. Leaning over the sink, I spit out my toothpaste and look back up at his reflection. I smile at him and say, “Plain oatmeal, I think. I have some in my cupboard.” Luc grins at me and winks. “I’m on it.”

And then he’s gone and I don’t understand why I keenly feel the absence of him just now.

Chapter 7

Lucas I surf on my phone while Levy and Rocco work on their homework at the kitchen table. I periodically glance at them to make sure they’re actually working, but they’re pretty diligent kids. Levy, who is in first grade and working on spelling words, has his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth in concentration. Rocco, a second grader, is reading a book. It’s open, lying flat, and his hands are folded below the table as he leans forward while his eyes move over the words. He’s the oldest of the three kids, and he seems the wisest, since he was more aware of what was happening when his mom died almost two years ago and they came to live with their Aunt Jules. They are good kids, which is why I didn’t mind watching them after school so Max and Jules could go to Annabelle’s dance recital. She’s almost five, and could not have looked any cuter in her little costume when they left. I

promised to feed the boys a snack—which was a drive out to Goodberry’s for ice cream and promises not to tell Max and Jules—then we went to the park and played for a bit. When we got home, the boys were more than willing to start their homework and I now I’m just hanging out until my duties are over. After babysitting, I’m going to over to Stephanie’s for the evening, and that makes a big smile sweep over my face as I scroll through my Twitter feed. I hear the front door open and both of the boys’ heads pop up. Annabelle’s voice filters in as she’s chattering away at Max and Jules as they come into the kitchen. Jules slips her purse off and puts it on the counter as Max helps Annabelle take off the jacket she wore over her pink leotard and silver tutu. “Well, were you a shining star?” I ask Annabelle, and she nods with a beaming smile as she approaches me. I pick her up and put her on my lap, and look up at Max. “Should we be submitting applications to Juilliard?” Max chuckles and then leans over Annabelle, brushing his lips over her hair. “She was amazing.” Yeah…Annabelle may have been born to two

other people who are no longer around, but there’s no doubt that Max is her father now. He loves these kids like they’re his own. And that means Uncle Lucas loves them that way too. “How’s the homework?” Jules asks the boys as she goes to the refrigerator and takes out a package of chicken. Levy just grunts and Rocco says, “Good. Almost done.” “Once you two are finished, go get washed up. Dinner will be in about half an hour.” Jules turns to me. “Want to stay for dinner? Doing some chicken on the grill.” Shaking my head, I stand up from the table, depositing Annabelle on her feet and giving her a head rub. “I’m leaving soon. I’ve got plans tonight.” “Oh yeah.” Jules asks slyly, “With anyone in particular?” I roll my eyes at her. She and Max both know I’ve been seeing—well, fucking— Stephanie. I mean, they don’t know details, but they vaguely know from some offhanded comments I may have made that I’m in a sort of friends-with-benefits, casual type of relationship with the mother of my child. Fuck, this is complicated.

Tucking my phone into my pocket, I go ahead and admit, “I’m going to hang with Stephanie tonight. Picking up a pizza on the way over there.” “I’m going to go start the grill,” Max announces. “And I’m outta here,” I say with a wave. “Later, dude,” Max says. As she sets the chicken down on the counter, Jules adds, “I’ll walk you to the door. I want to ask you something.” This seems like an odd request to me, but Max doesn’t blink an eye, just heads out the double doors to the back deck where the grill is located. Jules and I walk to the front door and she follows me out onto the porch, where I turn around to face her. “What’s up?” Leaning back against the door, she asks, “I’m just curious how things are going between you and Stephanie.” “They’re going fine,” I tell her, then I tilt my head. “You do know this is just a casual thing we’ve got going on, right?” “Yeah, I got the memo on that,” she says with a laugh. “I just wanted to know what you thought of her because you’ve been spending

time with her.” “Why?” I ask guardedly, wondering why her question suddenly makes me feel protective of Stephanie. “No nefarious reason,” she says, assuring me with an easy smile. “It’s just…she reached out to me last week while y’all were on the road to DC about a business idea she had that I actually think is pretty damn good. She wanted my advice, and we really got into some deep discussions about it and I might help her out. But it’s a big undertaking and I hardly know her at all, and—” “You want the inside skinny on whether or not she’s a flake?” I suggest. Jules cheeks turn pink as she grumbles, “Something like that.” I chuckle as I step to the side and lean against the stonework on the side of their porch. Shrugging, I say, “I think she’s cool. I mean, she’s funny, smart, and seems to have a good head on her shoulders.” “But,” Jules prods, sensing something else. “But nothing,” I say evasively. Jules just cocks an eyebrow at me and crosses her arms over her chest. My head turns and I dart a glance through

the large windows of the front door all the way out to the glass doors on the back deck, and I see Max is still working on the grill cleaning it. While I love my brother to death, I could stand to get some advice, and I think I need it from Jules more than Max. Looking back to her I move away from the wall and take a few steps closer to her. She pushes off the door and straightens, perhaps sensing this is going to get personal. “So, I’ve learned a little about Stephanie,” I tell her in a low voice. “And she, um…well, she didn’t have a good life growing up.” “Poor?” Jules guesses, and she would know something about that for sure. She didn’t have the rosiest of upbringings. I shake my head. “The opposite. Extremely wealthy, high-powered parents who didn’t want a kid and made it perfectly clear to Stephanie that’s how they felt.” Jules gives a startled gasp. “Good God.” Nodding in acknowledgment, I continue to tell her some other details I’d found out from Stephanie on Sunday when I was over there. “She has absolutely no one in her life. No relationship at all with her parents except some infrequent phone calls to check in. No other family at all, and not one close friend

that she hangs with.” “That’s weird,” Jules mumbles. “I think so too. So I asked her why that was and she just brushed it off by saying that growing up in a boarding school environment didn’t really facilitate friendship because it was so competitive.” “But you don’t believe that?” she guesses. “Nope,” I reply. “I think she just can’t trust anyone to let them in. She fended off questions from me before she started opening up. But she is the most closed off person I think I’ve ever met, and personally, I think it’s because her parents fucked up her head by not supporting her through life and acting like she was a burden on them. I don’t think she trusts anyone but herself, and that’s why she’s so stubbornly independent and stoic about things.” “I don’t get it,” Jules murmurs. “She’s so outgoing and her humor is razor sharp. She seems…happy.” I nod again. “I think she is happy for what she knows happiness to be. I think she’s content with her life and she’s accepted it. I don’t get that she’s overly bitter or angry, it’s just made her closed off from her feelings.” “And from intimacy?” Jules suggests, and

that hits me right in the stomach. Intimacy is such a confusing word. It can mean many things to many people, but I think Jules actually nailed it. While Steph and I have gotten down and dirty with each other, I’m not so sure how much intimacy there’s been. She’s opened up to me some, but she’s also closed off in many ways. I haven’t seen her since her morning sickness bout on Sunday, but that’s because I had a game Monday night and then we flew out the next day to Florida for another game. But here’s the problem. I actually missed her when I was gone. I hardly know this woman, and yet I have feelings for her that I’ve never had for another person. It’s not love, but it’s something deep. I realized it as she was throwing up in the toilet and I thought this woman is carrying my child, and here she is suffering because of it. At that moment, something took hold of my heart and carved out a section that would belong only to Stephanie, and I became suddenly afraid that I’d never be myself again. She’s going to go through hell—her words not mine, because she’s a bit scared about the pregnancy—and all so she can give birth to something that is part of me. Considering what

little she’s told me about her family life, I’ve got to say it impresses the hell out of me that she was going to make this journey on her own whether or not I was involved. Say what you want about how fucked up she is about relationships and trust, she’s an immensely strong and brave woman. I simply respect her. “Here’s the thing,” I say. “I can see something more with her, but I’m not sure she could say the same back to me. So my point is, if you are considering helping her with her business idea, do it with the understanding she and I might be nothing more than co-parents, and I have no clue how that’s going to work out. We’ve not even talked about those issues yet.” Jules nods in understanding. “Noted.” “What is she interested in doing?” I ask curiously. “It’s a pretty amazing idea,” she says with bright, excited eyes. “She said when she lived back in California, some of the nursing homes and rehab centers actually had preschools inside of them where the kids and elderly would interact together. She said it made a huge difference to the people there who didn’t have family, and also helped the kids to

empathize with a sort of lost generation of people.” “Hilda,” I say softly. “Who?” “Hilda,” I repeat. “She was Stephanie’s nanny…Stephanie became Hilda’s caregiver later in life as she got older. Stephanie told me she had broken her hip and had to go to a nursing home. She died there.” “I’m betting they had that program there,” Jules says. “So she wants to open a school inside of a nursing home?” I ask with my brows furrowed. Jules shakes her head. “Not quite. She actually wants to create a nonprofit that would pair preschools with care facilities and make the arrangements and transportation to bring the kids for field trips to do activities with the residents.” My head actually jerks backward in surprise. A good kind of surprise. “That’s freaking brilliant.” “Right?” Jules says with enthusiasm. “And I’d like to help her if she does this. I’m not doing my painting full time, and only working a few hours each week at Sweetbrier. I know when Annabelle starts school in the fall, I’m going to go crazy with boredom.”

My mind spins, wondering how serious Stephanie is about doing this and if she’s going to ask for my advice. I have to admit, I’m slightly perturbed she reached out to Jules before me about this. Say what you want about Jules having some inside expertise and education in geriatric care, I’m the one bringing her amazing orgasms. I’m the one she talks to about her shitty family life. Almost as if she can read my mind, Jules lays her hand on my forearm. “I’m sure she’s going to talk to you about it.” I shake my head. “She doesn’t owe me anything.” Except I want her to want my advice. I did knock her up after all, so one would say I’m at least the most important man in her life at the moment. Jules opens her mouth to say something I’m sure is sweet but unhelpful to the way I’m feeling, when our attention is caught by a car pulling into her circular driveway. It stops right in front of the sidewalk that leads to the porch, and my jaw drops open as I recognize my sister, Simone, in the backseat. I trot down the stairs as she steps out and the Uber driver pops his trunk.

“What are you doing here?” I ask in stunned surprise as I pull her into a big bear hug. Simone laughs and squeezes me tight. “What? I’m not allowed to visit my brothers?” “You’re welcome anytime,” I assure as I pull back and hold her by her shoulders. “You look great, sis.” And she does. My sister is the spitting image of Max and me, as well as our other brother, Malik. Dark brown hair with streaks of a lighter brown throughout that just occur naturally in our family starting with my mom. She has the same hazel eyes too, and she’s tall like her brothers, although at five nine, she’s still several inches shorter than me. “Get out of the way, Lucas,” I hear Jules say from behind me. I step back from my sister, and she and Jules hug like long-lost friends. They haven’t met in person yet, but they are tight through phone calls and social media. They chatter constantly back and forth with Facebook texts and tweets. When they pull apart, she turns to thank the Uber driver as he sets two large bags down in the grass that borders the driveway. He gets into his car and leaves and I pick up Simone’s bags to carry them into to the house. “Did you tell Max you were coming?” I ask

her as we hit the front porch and Jules leads us into the house. “Nope,” she says, and even though her back is to me as I bring up the rear, I can hear the mischief in her voice. “Thought I’d just come and crash here and rattle your cages. Besides, Jules said I could visit anytime I wanted. It was an open door.” “True,” Jules says with a laugh as I set the bags down in the foyer, figuring I’ll take them to whatever room they put her in. She definitely has to stay here, as there’s no room at my house since it only has two bedrooms. Max sees us all through the glass back deck doors, eyes landing on Simone then going back to the grill. He quickly does a double take, his mouth falling open like mine. Then he’s in the house and has her in a hug, yelling out loudly but with excitement, “What the hell are you doing here?” The kids all come running in, and when Max releases Simone, she gives him a pat on the chest and laughs, “I missed you too, Max.” Jules introduces the kids to Simone and she kneels down to give each one a hug as they meet their Aunt Simone for the first time. Annabelle is a little shy, but give her five minutes and she’ll get over it. When Simone

stands back up, Max says, “Seriously, sis…what are you doing here? I know spring break is over because I remember the gazillion pictures you posted on Facebook from Cancún.” “Oh, you know,” she says evasively as she fiddles with one of her earrings. “Just wanted to visit.” Max and I both immediately narrow our eyes at her. Jules wouldn’t know this because she just met Simone, but we grew up in the same house together. That fiddling and tugging on her earring meant she was lying. It was her giveaway, and she could never pull one over on us or our parents because of it. Simone, out of all of us, is the most genuine person. She’s honest and truthful to a fault, and rarely lies, and when she does, it’s usually to avoid hurting someone. “Try again,” I say as I cross my arms, glancing at Max’s face. He’s clearly worried, as am I. “What?” Simone exclaims in fake affront. “Can’t a girl take a little break?” “That’s not like you,” Max murmurs. “Not to just up and leave in the middle of a school semester.” “Your last school semester,” I tack on. Simone’s graduating from Dartmouth in

May and then she plans on going to medical school after that. Our father is a doctor and she’s always wanted to follow in his footsteps. Sensing that this might be a good time for a little privacy for the Fournier family, Jules spreads her arms and jerks her head toward the back staircase that leads to the second floor. “Come on, kids. Let’s go upstairs and get washed up for dinner.” Max shoots her a grateful look, and then turns a thoughtful gaze back to Simone. “You’re here, Simone. It’s a surprise. You’ve packed two huge bags. Do Lucas and me a favor and just tell us what’s going on.” Simone’s green-gold eyes go back and forth between Max and me, calculating what she should say. Her hand drops from her ear, so I know before she opens her mouth we’re going to get the truth now. With a sigh and a lowered gaze, Simone murmurs, “I dropped out of school.” “You did what?” both of us shout the exact words at her at the same exact time. She winces in the face of our obvious anger and astonishment. “Do you think Dad will be mad?” “And let me tell you why?” I snarl at her. “Fucking college is expensive. Dartmouth is

really expensive. You dropping out is jeopardizing medical school. Should I go on?” Simone shakes her head furiously. “What’s the deal, Simone?” Max asks softly. “Give it to us real.” With a frown, Simone gives it to us. “I don’t want to be a doctor. Never did, and I just can’t keep going on with this lie to Dad. I figured if I dropped out, that was the easiest way out of medical school without telling Dad I don’t want to be a doctor.” “You can’t be that dumb,” I say, pissed as hell she’d do something so dramatic without talking to one of us first. Our family is close and we talk about everything. Well, except women we knock up. I’m still keeping that just between Max, Jules, and me until after we see the doctor. “Lucas,” Max says in a low warning tone to back the fuck off. Then his gaze focuses on Simone. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad?” She shakes her head, tears starting to glisten, and I groan internally. I’ve always been a sucker for Simone’s tears. “They won’t understand.” “You know they will,” I chastise. “But let’s not worry about that now,” Max

says as he steps forward and gives her a squeeze around her shoulders. “We’ll eat dinner and talk some more.” I follow them into the kitchen, although I’m not staying long. I want to make sure Simone is settled, and I know Max and Jules will talk to her tonight to figure out what is going on. So I’ll hang around for a bit, but I’m not about to give up my plans to see Stephy.

Chapter 8

Stephanie “How are you feeling?” Lucas asks as I stare at him in the doorway. He’d knocked, my heart rate accelerated, and I swung the door open wide. And I’m not sure how the man can get more beautiful to me. Sexier. Safer. Wait…safer? But yes. As I look into those hazel eyes that have an obvious low-burning flame because let’s face it, the sex is phenomenal and we’re going to get to it, I also see other things in his expression. There’s joy to see me, concern about me, and perhaps even some mischief brewing in his eyes and that causes me to have butterflies in my stomach. Yes. Luc makes me comfortable and I feel safe in this friendship we’ve developed so far. I never talk about my parents, and yet I did with

him. Bottom line, I’ve got a level of trust in him. He knows what makes me the way I am and yet he still wants to get to know me as we embark on this pregnancy together. I love how he’s standing at my apartment door and not entering until he asks the most important thing to him right now. “I’m feeling great actually,” I say with a smile, then back away from the threshold so he can come in. “A pattern has been firmly established.” He nods as he walks past me because he knows I’m talking about my morning sickness. While we haven’t seen each other for four days, we’ve kept in contact mostly via text, although there was one late-night call while he was in Florida this week that may have gotten a little too hot for both of us. I continue as I shut the door and follow him into the living room. “So it seems it’s truly just morning sickness with me.” “Every morning, right?” he asks. Nodding, I watch as he sits on the couch and kicks his legs up onto it like he owns the place. I kind of like the way he’s so comfortable here. I never imagined I’d be the type of person to have someone over and have them kick their feet up into relaxation. “Lasts a few hours, just

like on Sunday, then it’s gone and doesn’t come back until the next morning. And I don’t always throw up, which is good, because I hate throwing up at work.” Everything I’d read about morning sickness said it could happen sporadically or consistently, but would usually go away by week sixteen. Since mine started, it’s been consistent, but I’m grateful it hasn’t lasted long. Last Sunday, Luc observed me at my worst. Barfing my guts up, hairy legs, and rank breath. And he still hung around with me all day. In the early evening, after I’d showered, scrubbed my teeth for the fourth time, shaved my legs, and we were assured I wasn’t going to get sick again, Luc had his way with me in my bed and it was magnificent as always. Everything about him is magnificent on a sexual level, but as I discuss my morning sickness with the father of the baby I’m carrying, I know he’s about more than that to me. That scares the shit out of me, as I still have my boundaries, but he’s slipped under my guard so seamlessly that I haven’t begrudged him his worry about the pregnancy. “I thought you were bringing a pizza,” I say as it strikes me I don’t see a pizza.

“Thought we’d go out,” he replies casually. My head jerks back and my brows furrow. “Excuse me?” “Let’s go out to get something to eat?” “Like a date?” I mumble. Luc smirks at me. “We don’t have to call it that. We can just say it’s friends out for a pizza, or baby daddy feeding the baby mama. Whatever you want.” I consider this and his casual attitude, and while yes, it’s been amusingly comfortable so far, it’s been that way because we agreed this was nothing but casual sex. We were taking advantage of a prime opportunity to have really amazing, phenomenal sex to capitalize on the chemistry between us. In my mind, going out to a restaurant to eat dinner together is a far cry from him bringing a pizza and having no-holds-barred dirty sex after, the pizza nothing more than fuel for stamina. And this makes me feel unsettled. It makes me feel hopeful and excited about what’s beyond the horizon with him, and that scares the living daylights out of me. I’ve refused to be hopeful about any person in my life since about the age of six, and the fact that Luc is having a deep effect on me is dangerous. This threatens my walls, which sadly are crumbling

around the edges. Yes, I love being physical with Luc. That’s a given. I crave this man, and that’s not going to change. I don’t want it to change, and in fact, the safest course for me would be to keep to our agreement and maintain this in a casual manner. I want him very much, yet I don’t want to want him in a way that’s necessary to me. I’ve never given that part of myself to anyone before. At this point, I’m not sure if my duality is from raging hormones or my past experience, but I’ve got to get things settled down to a level that’s comfortable for me. I know if I don’t do this, I’ll shut down and shut him out, and that’s not an option either. So I decide to focus on exactly what I can have with him so we can return to what is working very well for the both of us. I walk to the couch, my hands gripping the material of the soft cotton skirt I’d put on with a T-shirt after I’d gotten home from work. I slide it up my thighs and get a tingling between my legs as Luc’s eyes darken with a desire for me and not dinner. Putting one knee on the edge of the couch, I swing my other leg over to straddle his hips. My skirt is full so the material doesn’t move up any higher than midthigh, but Luc isn’t

satisfied with that. His hands immediately knock mine out of the way, spreading across the tops of my legs and pushing the hem up farther. His gaze slides up, locking eyes with mine. “Guess you don’t want to go out for dinner?” Luc’s voice is roughened with need, and that turns me on as much as his touch does. “Not hungry,” I murmur, hoping to encourage his hands to move higher. We’ve yet to have sex on my couch. “Well, I am,” Luc says adamantly and for a moment, keen disappointment courses through me that I can’t entice him. But that thought is quickly put to rest as he jackknifes off the couch, his powerful body propelling his weight and mine upward. My arms latch around his shoulders, my legs around his waist, and his hands come to my ass to support me. He spins us around so quickly I get dizzy, then he’s dumping me down on the couch. I grab at some cushions to pull myself up but his hand comes to my chest and he pushes me back down. I make the mistake of looking into his eyes and see they are blazing, and I swear a micro orgasm hits me between the legs as my sex convulses.

Luc’s hands snake under my skirt, take hold of my panties, and he strips them off with a rough pull. His hands come to my calves and he yanks my legs apart, draping one over the back of the couch and the other he lets fall to the floor. His movements are assured and domineering and he doesn’t say a word. He’s all alpha man right now and I find that I like this Luc very much. The velocity of my heartbeat goes into overdrive, and as he shoves my skirt up to my hips, the cooler air hitting me lets me know my panties are already soaked. If I was unsure of Luc’s intentions before, there’s no doubt now that when he says he’s hungry, he’s not talking about pizza. He falls to his knees and buries his face between my thighs. My elbows dig down into the seat cushions and my head falls back as a ragged groan tears free from me. Luc’s hands slide under my ass, pulling me up to him as his head moves back and forth. He makes little sounds of appreciation as his mouth works at me, making no bones about the level of desire he has. I tip my head back up and look down my body, the sight of him feasting causing my ragged breath to stop. Luc’s eyes—those beautiful green eyes shot through with gold

and brown—look up to me. He pauses, lifts his mouth to lick his lips, and grins. “Way better than going out to dinner.” My breath comes out in a massive rush. “I’ll never go out to dinner again.” Luc chuckles and drops back down, the reverberations of his laugh pulsing through me. His tongue draws circles around my clit, causing my body to tremble violently from the exquisite feelings he’s causing within me. “You taste too damn good, Stephy,” Luc murmurs against me before pursing his lips to suck. I cry out as pleasure shoots straight to my core. He rolls my clit with his tongue, swirling and lapping and fluttering. My hips start to gyrate, not exactly needing more but wanting to participate in this beautifully intimate joining. It’s one of the most intimate things a couple can do together, and because of that, I’ve always pushed guys away from it. “Luc,” I moan as my body starts to stiffen. “I’m so close.” He growls in response, more vibrations hit my clit, and with another strong swipe of his tongue over me, I start to break apart. Not in a violent wave but more like a gently rolling thundercloud. It sweeps over me and through

me in such a lovely rumble of release that I start to softly chant, “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” in cadence with my orgasm. Slow to release, slow to finish, my orgasm takes its time sliding away, but it’s more than enough time for Luc to crawl up my body and press his weight down onto me. I can feel his rock-hard cock pressed into my stomach as his face hovers over mine, the burning in his eyes not calmed in the slightest. “Wow,” I say softly as I press my hands into his chest. His heartbeat is firing rapidly and I love that he is as excited by what he did to me as he is by what’s to come. Luc gives me a slow smile before tilting his head to kiss me. It’s a soft brushing of his lips against mine, then they feather across my cheek to my ear where he whispers, “Going to enjoy doing that to you again.” A delicious shiver assaults my body and my hands slide up over his shoulders and then around his head, where I tug at his hair. He pulls back to look at me and I tell him, “I’m going to enjoy returning that favor to you.” He makes a rumbling sound of agreement in his chest and then he’s pushing up off of me. Before I can even take a breath, he’s hauling me up into his arms and spinning toward the

hallway. “Let’s take this into the bedroom. More room in there.” “Then we can order pizza?” I ask with a sly grin. “Then we can order pizza,” he agrees. — Much, much later, after I returned the favor and we ate pizza, after Luc put me on my hands and knees and fucked me from behind, and after we collapsed onto the bed, we talked and talked and talked. It was becoming effortless to do that, and I wondered if that meant more walls were crumbling. I wondered and I stressed over it. “You’re sure you’re okay with me going to your doctor’s appointment next week?” Luc asks me as we sit side by side on my bed sharing a container of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia. It’s been a craving of mine and I’ve got it well stocked. “Yeah,” I say as I scoop out a spoonful and pass the pint to Luc. “Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugs as he takes the container, then grabs the spoon from me. “It’s just kind of personal I guess, and well…this is a casual thing we’ve got. I’m having a hard time

understanding where the line is between the casual sex and being part of the pregnancy.” “Huh,” I huff out, realizing that I really don’t know where the line is either. We haven’t talked about this in particular. Taking a deep breath, I let it out and hope to fuck this doesn’t crumble my walls further. “I think as far as the pregnancy goes, you were fifty percent complicit in me getting knocked up, I think you should have equal share in everything. So yeah…share the appointments with me. You can actually birth the child if you want, but point is…we just keep that separate from the sex part.” “So pregnancy stays pregnancy, and on the other side we have no strings sex other than we’ll be monogamous?” Luc asks to clarify, still holding the spoon and container without having taken a bite. “Pretty much,” I say as I nab the container back from him and he lets it go easily. Don’t get between the pregnant woman and her ice cream. “Okay, we’ll try it,” he concedes, and I’m relieved that I don’t hear any hesitation. It’s a gamble whether we can truly maintain this, but I suspect both of us are enjoying each other so much that we are refusing to consider

this is probably the dumbest idea two people could ever come up with. I think we’re both sticking our heads in the sand at this point. And as I lie here eating ice cream with Luc after the incredibly beautiful orgasms we gave each other, I realize I’m okay with that for now. “Jules told me about your idea,” Luc says as he reaches across to take the ice cream and spoon from me. I hesitate before I answer, because this idea of bringing kids and the elderly together is so personal to me that I’m not sure I can handle any critique of it. It was a gamble for me to reach out to Jules, but given her background in geriatric care, I’d at least know she’d understand the appeal of it. With Luc, I don’t know if he’ll get it. Moreover, I’m afraid he will think it’s a bad idea. I’ve made some stupid decisions in my life, but I’ve owned them and I’ve done so with pride. Because for every mistake I’ve made, I’ve learned from it and become stronger. I’ve made stupid decisions and made mistakes because I’ve never had the counsel of anyone. I never had parents to depend on, no close friends, and when Hilda died, I didn’t have a single person to give me support or help me

along the way. I’ve chosen to look at this as a benefit, because I alone have made myself into the fierce and independent woman I am today. And if I choose to think of my pathetic childhood as a good thing, it makes me feel less lonely. I smooth the sheet on my lap, thinking it’s funny that we’re both lying here with the sheet over our naked bodies. Luc’s is pooled around his waist, leaving his amazing torso bare, but I’ve got it pulled up over my breasts. Here we are, having explored each other’s bodies intimately, and yet when the sex ends, we put our armor back on—physical armor like this sheet, or figurative armor like the way I am afraid to let anyone in. “Jules?” Luc says softly, and I blink my eyes to clear my thoughts. I make a command decision to take a risk and open myself up a little to see what Luc thinks. “Sorry, but yeah…I knew Jules would have some good insight based on her experience.” “Jules will give it to you straight,” he says softly, his affection for her evident. She’s not even officially his sister-in-law, but I can tell Luc thinks of her like that already. “And what do you think?” I ask, and then

feel like I want to throw up by inviting his opinion. Why does his opinion even matter to me? But dammit, it does. I hold my breath and shake my head as he offers me the ice cream. Luc pushes the spoon into the top, turns away from me to put the pint on the nightstand, and then turns back to me with a big smile. “I think it’s an amazing idea.” “Really?” I ask with a goofy smile on my face. “Absolutely,” he says with so much conviction that I get excited from the possibility. “If you do it, though, how are you going to manage your duties at the museum?” Ugh. The museum. “Well, I might not have that job much longer.” “What?” Luc exclaims as his eyebrows shoot high. “My promotion was just an interim position, and it appears due to lack of funding, they’re going to delete my original position when they hire a new director of research and acquisitions. So I’m looking for another job that offers health insurance. I’ve got to make sure I’m stable before I give this idea any attention.” “But wouldn’t this idea become your career?”

“Well, I’d make it a nonprofit,” I say. “Nonprofits pay their directors and other employees,” Luc points out. “Yeah, I know,” I say wistfully as my gaze drops down to my lap. “But it’s just too iffy. I don’t think I’d look at doing something like this until I got a steady job first to make sure I could pay my bills. And it would just be like a passion project to get it started, and then someone else could run it.” “But if you could run it, you would?” he asks. “Run it or just work for it.” “What’s the real deal with you getting zoology and geology degrees? And don’t tell me it’s because you like rocks and minerals.” I lift my head to look at him. His head is tilted at me quizzically. I could play stupid, but I think Luc knows he’s got me figured out on that front, so I tell him the truth. “They were fairly easy degrees and I knew my parents would probably have a cow that I wasn’t going to Stanford or something. I did whatever I could to get their attention, even if it was bad attention, and well…that totally got a reaction from them.” “Not a good reaction, I’m guessing.”

I smile grimly. “It wasn’t well received. But you know, I had absolutely no direction in life. No clue what I wanted to be. I had no role models except for Hilda, and while she took very good care of me and gave me love, I didn’t get a lot of guidance about important things like what I could be when I grew up.” “Then I think you should really look into doing this,” Luc says as he reaches over and squeezes my thigh. “It’s something that’s clearly dear to your heart. I can help you do some research on how to get it started.” That simple offer to help do research actually makes my heart swell a little. I’ve learned enough about Luc to know he’s a gallant being, and I almost expected him to offer me money. But he didn’t, and that makes me like him all the more, because I think he also knows I’m proud of the way I’ve taken care of myself since I was old enough to understand the concept of responsibility. “I’ll take your help,” I say with a smile, feeling very much okay with my decision to accept what others offer me. “Jules said she’d help with that too and put some feelers out.” “You should come with me Saturday afternoon to a party,” Luc throws out. “It’s for a teammate’s birthday and Jules will be there.

We can all bat some ideas around.” I just stare at him, trying to figure out if this invite is different from him wanting to take me out to dinner. He sounds very laid back about it, and it would be nice to talk about the concept with two people who think it’s a great idea. It wouldn’t be like a date because I’d be hanging out with him and Jules. That would keep this clearly on a friends-with-benefits level, as I’d be strengthening friendships with both of them. Then I could even lie to myself that things were staying casual between us if I accepted his invitation as just a means to toss around some ideas for this project. “Okay,” I say with a bright smile. “I’d love to hang with you and Jules.” “Awesome,” Luc says as he twists his torso, reaching across his body to grab me under the jaw. He leans over and gives me a rough kiss before pulling away. “And you can meet my sister, Simone. She’ll be there.” “Sister?” I ask in surprise. I knew Luc had one, but didn’t know she was here, and now I wonder if this is a setup so his sister can meet me. “Yeah,” he mutters, and I can hear the disdain in his voice. “She showed up on Max’s doorstep today and told us she dropped out of

school.” My brows draw. “Didn’t you tell me she was graduating this year and going to medical school?” “That was the plan,” Luc says acidly. “But Max and I talked to her a bit this afternoon and she’s adamant she’s not going back, so she’ll be here indefinitely. I have no clue what’s going on with her, but it looks like she’ll be around for a while, so you might as well meet her.” “Have you told her about me? And the baby?” He shakes his head. “No. I’ll just introduce you as a friend of ours.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. I think it’s wise Luc is holding off telling his family until we get a little further to ensure everything’s okay, but I am dreading the day when people will find out. I’m a private person, and having a child with a single professional athlete can get very messy. I guess I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I get to it, and no sense in worrying too much about it now. Besides, I have enough to worry about given the fact I’m developing feelings for Luc, and it’s wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.

Chapter 9

Lucas “Stop looking at your watch,” Jules mumbles out of the side of her mouth as she leans toward me. “She’ll be here.” “Yeah, I know,” I say as I glance around at all of the people mingling in Garrett’s house. We’re celebrating his birthday, which was really last month, but our schedule was such that there wasn’t a really good weekend to have the party. So it’s being held now, and while I’m still fairly new to the team, I’ve actually bonded quite well with Garrett. He’s so damn easygoing—like Max and me—that like sort of attracts like, I guess. Stephanie insisted she meet us here, and I’m not dumb enough to miss the fact I’m sure she thinks that makes this less “datelike” in her mind. Which is fine. I respect her boundaries. I think they’re going to get blurred and confusing at some point, but I respect them. On one side of the line, we are nothing more

than friends who like to fuck. On the other side, we’re going to be co-parenting a child who was not planned. Something tells me that one or the other has to give, and I know it won’t be the child side, because that’s the most important. Funny how drastically my life has changed in just three weeks, and while it was a complete and utter shock, I’ve actually done pretty good in accepting my fate. Kids were always a given with me. I want at least three, and preferably with a wife. I’ve had such an idyllic life with my family, and I want the same thing for myself. But it’s not happening in the order I thought it would—because the wife would be first—and it’s happening a lot sooner than I had planned —by at least five years or so. I just turned twenty-seven, and Stephanie is twenty-eight. I hadn’t thought about having kids until I was in my thirties, because I honestly thought that was the prime of life. Oh well. I am adaptable if anything. Just then, I see the top of Stephanie’s red head walking through the crowd that extends from Garrett’s open kitchen into the adjacent living room. The two spaces are massive and can easily hold a hockey team—although not

everyone came—and their guests. She winds in and out and finally I see her face. She locks eyes with me and gives a tentative smile as she nervously tucks her hair behind her ear. That fucking amazing hair that looks good wrapped up in my fist. Just a mass of curls, all wild and untamed. Just like the way Stephy is in bed, and fuck if I don’t like that a lot. “Hey,” she says as she walks toward Jules and me, her eyes going back and forth between us. Max is off with Simone, making some introductory rounds. While he’s been a little more accommodating to her feelings about dropping out of school, I’ve not made any bones about the fact I think it’s the dumbest thing she’s done or ever will do in her life. Needless to say, she’s a little miffed at me right now, but I still want her to meet Stephanie when they come back around. “Hey,” I say as I lift my chin. “Glad you could make it.” It’s friendly. No hugs or kisses on the cheek, which could violate the no-strings-sex boundary, which is sort of fucked up. I can lay her down and suck on her clit until she screams my name, but I

can’t kiss her hello because that’s actually more intimate and makes more of a statement about a relationship. Totally fucked-up reasoning, but we’re both going with it. “Sorry I’m late,” she says as her eyes flit around the kitchen, where we’re standing near the food. “Forgot I had to get gas.” “No worries,” Jules says. “I’m just glad you came, and I’m excited to talk some more about the nonprofit idea.” “Me too,” Stephanie says as she moves closer to Jules, her smile wildly energetic and enthused. It makes me smile to see her so fired up about something. I hate thinking she’s in a career that’s just satisfactory to her. I love my fucking career and it’s a big part of my happiness. I’d like to see Stephanie have that for herself, not only to compensate for those things she doesn’t have but so she can pass on to our kid that anything is possible if you want it bad enough. “Do you want to get a plate of food and then go find someplace to sit?” I ask, jerking my thumb over my shoulder to the long counter spread with catered food. Garrett decided to go with an eastern North Carolina barbecue

spread and I’m starving. “Sounds good,” Jules says as Stephanie nods. “Dude,” I hear from behind me as two large hands come down on my shoulders and squeeze me a few times. As I turn to look, the hands then pat me hard before retreating. My eyes make contact with Cash McCain, who just got called up from the minor leagues this week to fill in on the third line for one of our defenseman who has a hamstring pull. He’s twenty-one, energetic, and slightly annoying. I wonder if I acted like that at that age, and if I did, how I ever got laid. “What’s up, man?” I ask as I give him a curt smile. “This party is off the hook,” he says while swinging his arms outward in exaggeration. I look around and wonder since when did gathering for barbecue and birthday cake constitute “off the hook,” but then he answers my question. “I mean…I always wondered how you partied in the big league, and well…this is so stylish and elegant,” he gushes. My eyes go back to the food. It’s in silver serving trays, so I guess that’s stylish. “And whoa, who do we have here?” Cash

drawls out as he pulls his chin in and eyes Jules and Stephanie up and down. Kid’s not been here long enough to know Jules, so I make it a point to introduce her properly. “This is Jules, my soon-to-be sisterin-law.” And then the dork of a defenseman actually impresses me a little. He gets super respectful and sticks a hand out to Jules. “Oh wow. Max talks about you all the time. Nice to finally meet you.” This doesn’t surprise me. Max does talk about Jules all the time in an annoyingly cute kind of way. But then Cash gets idiotic again when he pushes his hand out to Stephanie, who I can see by the expression on her face is thoroughly amused. “I’m Cash McCain,” he says in a voice smooth as silk. “And you may be the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” I try hard not to gag as Jules snorts beside me. Stephanie shakes his hand and even gives a tinkling laugh when Cash brings it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. I suppress an eye roll because Cash is nowhere near Stephanie’s league, plus he’s way too young for her to even consider not only in age but in maturity.

“Dude,” I mock Cash’s earlier words with a hand to his shoulder and squeeze hard enough that he lets Stephanie’s hand go. “Your flirting is a little cheesy.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Stephanie teases with a mischievous smile. “It was pretty good to me.” “Seriously?” I ask her with a cocked eyebrow. “That was good flirting?” “All flirting’s good,” Stephanie points out. “Yeah, no…cheesy flirting is not good,” I maintain. “Dude,” Cash interjects. “I’m standing right here while you’re ruining my game.” Jules snorts again, and this time, I squeeze down into Cash’s shoulder before giving him a “friendly” push away, but I make sure I give him a cordial-enough smile so he knows I’m joking. Well…half joking. “Get out of here, kid,” I tell him. “You’re out of your league.” And because he’s a big goofy dork with a pretty good nature, he laughs and points a finger at me. “You’re the man, Lucas. Whatever you say, I roll with.” All three of us watch Cash melt into the crowd, and then Jules says, “You see…that’s

the way I sort of envisioned all professional athletes.” “Young, dumb, and idiotic?” I ask. Stephanie gives me a light punch on my arm. “Leave him alone. It was cute.” We all laugh and then I turn toward the food, making a sweeping gesture with my hand. “After you, ladies.” With food plates piled high, I lead the way through the crowd to the large outdoor screened-in deck at the back of Garrett’s house. There’s not as many people out here because it’s a little chilly, but he’s got two large outdoor heaters running so it’s bearable. I spot Max and Simone at a table in the corner talking to Hawke and Vale. Hawke and Max are pretty tight and Vale is one of our trainers. They’re both cool in my opinion. As we approach the table, Simone’s gaze goes right to Stephanie, as I told her I was bringing a friend tonight. She of course thought a “friend” meant something more, and although technically it is more because there are benefits, I assured her this was nothing like that. Which is thoroughly confusing even to me. Hawke and Max immediately stand up and offer their chairs to Jules and Stephanie. The

women get situated and the men hover behind them in a circular group. I make introductions. “Simone, this is my friend Stephanie.” They smile at each other and Simone says, “It’s nice to meet you.” “Likewise,” Stephanie replies. We all make idle chitchat for a while, but the conversation eventually turns to Stephanie’s idea about bringing kids into nursing homes. I think she’s a little embarrassed to have such a big crowd discussing this when she thought it would just be Jules and me, but by the smile on her face I know the fact that everyone has been enthusiastic about it means a lot to her. As I watch her interacting with friends, family, and coworkers at this table, it again amazes me how outgoing Stephanie is. She has a huge personality coupled with such a funny wit, it’s hard to believe that is just her exterior shell. It’s hard to believe there’s a woman underneath who has been so deeply hurt by abandonment that chances are you’ll never get closer to her than her fun and engaging personality, which she uses as a brilliantly deceptive shield. “I need to use the restroom,” Stephanie says as she rises from the chair.

“I’ll go with you,” Simone says, also pushing up from the table. “Does anyone need anything?” Stephanie asks. After a chorus of nos, the women make their way back into the house. “You know,” Jules says as she looks around the table but lets her gaze rest on me. “Stephanie’s got a really good idea, and to my knowledge there is no organization that provides something like that in this area. I hope she runs with this.” “I hope so too,” I say, but I leave it at that. Not going to share with them that Stephanie is not only facing a potential job loss soon but she’s not going to take a risk on a new endeavor unless she’s absolutely prepared to do it on her own. I’ve learned at least that much about her, that she wants to do this independently outside of some advice we give her. On top of that, I think she might be little overwhelmed with the pregnancy, so her focus is naturally going to be on that. “Are you going to be able to go to any of the play-off games?” Vale asks Jules, thereby effectively ending that subject and starting another. The play-offs will begin in two weeks, in mid-April, and things are going to get all kinds

of crazy. At least the travel schedule is more stable, since it follows best-of-seven series in a two, two, one, one, one format. That means the team with home-ice advantage alternates two games home, two games away, then home, away, and then home again. Thus we know the travel schedule is set, but that doesn’t lessen the tremendous stress the players will be under. Not only are we giving our all physically to every game, we’re straining our emotional and mental capacities as well. Every single professional hockey player I know lives and breathes for only one thing, and that’s to raise the Stanley Cup above their head. It’s within my reach and I can almost taste it. “I’m going to work out some kind of schedule with Kate where we can travel alternating rounds while the other watches all the kids,” Jules tells her. My neck twists to look in through the windows off the back deck and through the living room, and my eyes immediately catch on Stephanie’s flaming curls. Looks like she hasn’t made it to the bathroom because she’s been waylaid by Cash. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Cash is heavily flirting with her. He’s leaning in close, and the expression on his face is carnal. I know he’s probably feeding her corny

lines that would never work on a woman like Stephanie, but what I don’t like is the fact that she seems to be enjoying it. She smiles and laughs at him, sometimes flipping her hair over her shoulders. She also leans in toward him as he tells her an animated story with his hands. When she laughs at him a second time, she playfully touches his forearm for a second. What the fuck? Is she into this kid? I push up from my chair mumbling something about using the bathroom and make my way across the back deck and into the house. By the time I get to where Stephanie and Cash were standing, they’re both gone. Simone walks by and I ask her, “Have you seen Stephanie?” She indicates with a thumb over her shoulder, “Yeah. She just went into the bathroom.” “Alone?” I demand. Simone’s eyebrows rise but she quickly answers, “Of course alone. Why wouldn’t she be alone?” I shake my head as I brush past my sister toward the bathroom, instantly relieved that she and Cash aren’t getting physical with each other in Garrett’s guest bathroom, and even as

I appreciate the relief, I know that was stupid to even think that would happen. If it did, though, I do believe I’d have to kill Cash. Leaning up against the wall, I wait for Stephanie to come out. When she does she blinks at me in surprise but gives me a welcoming smile. “Hey, you.” “What’s up with all the flirting?” I ask, then I immediately regret the words. I absolutely did not need to confront her with that because I have no right to. Stephanie’s expression darkens. “What do you mean?” “It just seems to me that you and Cash were getting awful cozy together,” I tell her with a nonchalant shrug. “We were just talking,” Stephanie says with her lips quirked up, and I can tell she is thoroughly amused with me. “He’s a funny guy.” “Don’t look at me like that,” I snap at her. She stifles a laugh then asks me, “Look at you like what?” “That you think I’m jealous and you find it completely hilarious,” I tell her with my chin lifted. “Are you?” she asks me with mischief

written all over her face. “Absolutely not,” I say with a casual smile. “No strings between us, right?” “That’s right,” she says with a slightly teasing tone, but I can also see in her eyes that there is no room for jealousy. That sort of irritates me. We may have a firm friends-with-benefits agreement, but I thought we had been pretty clear that this was exclusive. “So you mean to tell me,” I ask her as I lean in and murmur, “you would not be bothered if I flirt with other women in your presence?” Stephanie swallows hard but her jaw stiffens with resolve. “That’s right.” “Huh?” I say, sounding genuinely interested in this concept. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then I push past her into the bathroom with a satisfied smile on my face over the look of surprise and perhaps a little anger on hers. Let her chew on that for a while.

Chapter 10

Stephanie “Stephanie, are you even listening to me?” Jules asks as she shakes my shoulder lightly. I twist my neck to look at her and distractedly ask, “What?” She gives me a knowing smile and leans into me, murmuring, “You seem awfully interested in something else.” I’m back at the table, chatting with Jules and Simone, the men talking about hockey. I’m all kinds of unsettled about that confrontation I had with Lucas about half an hour ago. Since then, I returned to the table and he has not. Jules and I have been talking about my idea, with Vale adding in her thoughts as well. Simone is off doing who knows what. “Nope, not interested in anything else,” I tell Jules, although my gaze moves to the window to peek in on Lucas again. Which is a complete lie. I’m absolutely interested in the fact that Lucas is standing in

the living room almost exactly where I had been talking to Cash. Except he is talking to a blonde with big boobs and a very little dress. “I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything,” I hear Jules murmur near my ear. It surprises me enough I turn my head quickly look to at her. She nods at the window. “Lucas.” “I don’t care what Lucas does,” I tell her with vehemence. Too much vehemence, actually, because it sounds fake. I know it sounds fake because Jules cocks an eyebrow at me. “I know exactly the nature of your relationship with Lucas. And while I don’t know how you are treating it, I can tell you absolutely that if Lucas promises exclusivity, you’ll get it.” I bristle at what she’s saying, because it clearly means Lucas has talked about me. While Lucas may have no qualms about sharing personal details with other people, I’m not that way and never will be. So I shut down Jules as kindly as I can. “Lucas and I have a very clear agreement. I’m telling you right now I don’t care if he is in there flirting with a porn star. It’s none of my business.” “Well, that’s good,” Jules says with a smile. “Because that woman he’s talking to in there actually has been in the adult entertainment

business.” My head snaps back toward Lucas. “She has?” “Stripper,” Jules says. “She dates one of the players on and off again. I’m assuming on right now since she’s here.” A weird sensation of anger and hurt wells up within me, something I’ve never felt before. Jules merely leans over and pats me on my knee. “But no worries. I’m sure they’re just chatting politics or something.” I give a disgruntled snort at the suggestion, and despite the fact I’m telling Jules a lot without saying a word at all, I push up from my chair. “I’ll be back.” Ignoring Jules’s snicker, I make my way into the living room without any clue as to why I would do something so foolish. When I reach Lucas and the stripper, she is standing very close to him and twirling her hair around her finger. He seems captivated by what she’s saying. Lucas sees me and smiles with sparkling eyes. “Hey, Stephy. Rona here was just telling me about a big party she’s having tomorrow at the beach. It’s only a few hours away, but she promises topless volleyball.” My jaw drops as I digest what Lucas is

telling me and I honestly can’t think of anything to say in return. It doesn’t matter, though, because he has more to say. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?” “Um, yeah,” I mutter as I shift from foot to foot with unease. “I was just coming to tell you goodbye, since I’m leaving.” I totally wasn’t leaving and was hoping to make another run at the barbecue, but I seriously don’t think I can handle Lucas talking to this bimbo about naked volleyball. “So, um, goodbye,” I mumble as I start to turn toward the deck so I can get my purse. “I’ll see you around.” “Stephanie,” Lucas calls out, and I stop to look over my shoulder. “There’s no need to be jealous of Rona.” My face heats up with embarrassment as I notice a few people standing around look to Lucas since he was quite loud in his proclamation. My eyes flick to the blonde and I can see she’s highly amused. My eyes then narrow, and I shoot a sinister glare at Lucas. “I am not jealous.” One eyebrow arcs upward. “Kind of looks like it.” I step back toward Lucas, and as I lean into him I growl, “I. Am. Not. Jealous.”

“Perfect,” Lucas says with a beaming smile. “Naked volleyball at the beach it is.” “We’re going to have so much fun,” Rona says as she bounces up and down a little, making her boobs jiggle. To Lucas’s credit, he doesn’t look at them, but keeps his smirking eyes leveled at me. My face gets hotter as my head starts to buzz with anger. I suddenly realize I am not just angry…I’m absolutely infuriated. Not at Rona, because I think she’s doing what she usually does. But at Lucas, that he would even consider such a thing. “Are you seriously making plans to do naked volleyball in front of the woman you are currently fucking?” I ask slowly so there is no mistaking what I want him to know. Unlike him, though, I say it in a low enough voice only he and Rona hear me. Lucas grins at me and I’m stunned when he grabs me by the back of my head and pulls me to him for a hard, quick kiss. When he releases me he says, “God, you’re fucking adorable when you’re jealous.” “Aagh,” I snarl at him in frustration. “You are impossible.” Spinning around, I bolt for the door that

leads to the deck, intent on grabbing my purse and getting the hell home. If you leave now, my subconscious says, you’ll lose him to naked volleyball. I don’t give a shit, I hiss back at my subconscious. Just before I reach the door, I feel a hand clamp down on my elbow and I am pulled to an abrupt stop. “Oh no you don’t, Stephy,” Lucas says. “We need to talk.” I try to pull my arm away. “No, we don’t.” “Yes, we do.” And the next thing I know he is dragging me back through the living room into the hallway and straight into Garrett and Olivia’s master bedroom. He shuts the door behind us and releases me. I spin on him. “What are you doing? It’s totally rude to be in their bedroom.” “You don’t have to worry,” he says with a sly smirk. “I don’t plan on fucking you here.” “Don’t plan on fucking me anywhere,” I snap at him. He just smiles placidly at me and I can tell he still thinks I’m freaking adorable. “I am not jealous,” I tell him again as I cross my arms over my chest.

He crosses his arms to match me. “I’m not jealous either.” “Fine,” I retort. “Fine.” “So where does that leave us?” Lucas asks. “I’m going home,” I reply primly. Lucas’s eyes grow dark and he gives me a mischievous grin. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you there.” I ignore the thrilling sizzle that courses through me and stubbornly remain aloof. “No, you’re not.” “Yes, I am.” “No, you’re—” Lucas is on me, hands in my hair, mouth crushed against mine, and my refusal to let him come to my house is swallowed down his throat. The minute his tongue touches mine, my entire body betrays me by melting into him. When he ends the kiss, his eyes bore into mine and he asks, “Am I coming home with you?” I nod dazedly at him. He smirks back at me. “I am not jealous, though,” I reiterate. “Neither am I,” he murmurs, then touches

his mouth to mine for a very brief, sweet kiss. “Let’s make our goodbyes so we can get naked.” — Lucas shoves his face in my neck as he plants himself deep inside of me and groans out his orgasm. My hands skim over his back, marveling at the way he shudders against me. “God, that’s good,” Lucas mutters with hot breath against my skin. I couldn’t agree more. I had two orgasms to his one. The first he induced with his fingers, the rest with just his cock as he rode me. He is so beautiful when he’s above me, my legs spread and knees pressed into his sides. The brown in his eyes is taking over the green, but they’re still streaked with gold. I know this because he stares at me the entire time, refusing to break eye contact, and the connection is intense. Now that I think about it, that second orgasm may have been due in part to his eyes as well. Lifting my head, I put my lips to Lucas’s shoulders and kiss him softly. His breathing is ragged and he just rests his weight on me for a moment as if he’s too exhausted to move. “Would you have gone to naked volleyball

tomorrow had I not let you come over tonight?” I ask suddenly, and if my hands weren’t busy stroking his back, I’d clap one over my mouth in shock over that popping out. Lucas lifts his head and he stares down at me with dancing eyes. “Who says I’m not?” My hand slides to his ass and I pinch it. Lucas yelps as his torso bucks, and I didn’t know men could make that type of noise. Then so fast I’m not even sure how it happens, Lucas rolls us and I’m straddling him with his halfhard dick still lodged inside me. I balance myself with hands to his chest and he palms my thighs as we look at each other. His mischievous expression, though, is gone and I watch as his eyes slide down past my breasts to where we are still connected. My breath catches as I realize he’s looking at where his dick disappears into my body with a measure of awe and hunger. I let my own eyes drop and I see what he sees. He brings a hand to my mound and touches me gently, but not without impact. My entire body jolts from that small touch. Still staring at our joining, Lucas murmurs, “Look at this. My cock in your pussy. That is so fucking hot to me, and I swear, Stephy…if you started moving on me right now, I’d get fully

hard again. I’d be ready to go for another round.” I hold my breath and watch him, because I don’t think that’s the important thing he’s trying to convey. I think it’s something else. He makes it clearer when his eyes move to mine, where they lock. “Why in the hell would I ever want to go to naked volleyball when I have this right here?” I cough to clear my throat, ignoring the pure joy that filters through me at his words. “Um…because it’s naked volleyball with strippers?” I say tentatively, unsure why he would do such a thing. Lucas presses his thumb against my clit, causing me to moan and rock my hips as he chides, “Trust me when I say nothing is better than this right here. Understood?” “Yes,” I say breathlessly, holding the urge to start bouncing up and down on him. I don’t know if he can really go again so fast, but I’ll let him make that call. “This isn’t casual, Stephanie,” Lucas says soberly. My joy fizzles a tiny bit and is replaced by fear. “And there are strings, unfortunately. I didn’t like the thought of you flirting with another guy. I don’t know if it’s just proprietary over what I’ve exclusively

claimed as mine for right now, or what, but I didn’t like it.” I’m shaking my head in denial because that’s what I’m trained to do when I think someone might get too close. Lucas is getting too close, and his words affect me in two different ways. They make me want so much with him, and they make me want to shut the door firmly on the possibility. “There aren’t any strings,” I lie outright to him. “Either of us can walk at any time.” He gives me a sad, knowing smile. He gets why I just said that, and he understands me better than perhaps I know myself at this moment. I don’t know if I should like him or hate him for that. “There are strings,” Lucas says firmly. “I was jealous of you talking to Cash. That’s a string. If you were honestly jealous of me talking to Rona, then that’s a string. I’ll let you discuss that with your conscience, but I’ve got no problem admitting it. Not when what we just shared in this bed is so beautiful and amazing.” Oh God. Just…oh God. He really means that and this is really happening. “I don’t think I’m ready for strings,” I

whisper fearfully to him, my heart now racing as fast as it was right before he brought me to the height of pleasure. My chest feels weighted with anxiety as I consider how very threatening this is to my way of life, and at the same time, I’ve got this undeniable excitement making me absolutely jittery. Lucas’s hands grab mine and he squeezes them gently. “Stephy…it’s just a string. Not a commitment, not a proposal, not a declaration of emotion or feelings. It’s just a string. Probably means nothing more than we are proprietary about each other’s bodies.” He’s lying to me to help put me at ease, damn him and his sweet ways. That’s not what it means, but he sounds so earnest in his reasoning I think I’m going to accept that. No, I know I’m going to accept that, because even though I’m not ready to consider something that risks my heart with Lucas, I’m not ready to give him up either. So I nod to him and exhale. “Okay.” “Okay,” he says with a smile. “Now we need to talk about something else.” “Can we talk over Cherry Garcia?” I ask with a perky smile. He rolls his eyes and then lifts me off him. He slips out and I hate how I hate losing that

connection. “Go get us some ice cream,” he orders with a swat to my ass. I scramble off the bed and run through my small apartment. In less than a minute, I’m back with a fresh pint. The one he and I started three days ago is long gone. Lucas is in bed, sheet pulled up to his waist, watching me with appreciative eyes when I walk in. He’s told me so many times how beautiful I am. How beautiful my body is, and yet…when he looks at me, he conveys something even deeper about how much he likes what he sees. His expression actually makes me giddy. Crawling into bed, I hand over the ice cream. He opens it while I situate myself beside him against the headboard. I don’t bother with bringing the sheet up to my breasts and instead keep it just over my lap like him. Our legs are pressed together and our shoulders touch. I watch as Lucas takes the first spoonful of ice cream before handing it over to me. “I have to stop joining you in your cravings. I’m going to turn into a cow at this rate.” I snicker and plunge my spoon in. I’ve heard of men gaining weight when their significant

others got pregnant and now I know why. “I’m quite sure your workout regimen lets you have a few bites of ice cream here and there.” “That’s what I’m telling myself,” he says as I let the heavenly concoction of dark chocolate and cherry slide down my throat. I hand the ice cream to him. “So what do you want to talk about?” “Play-offs,” he says, and then I wait for him to take another bite and swallow. He hands the pint back to me and explains. “They’ll be starting soon…April fifteenth to be exact. And as you know since you’re a fan, we’ve got a great chance at winning the Cup again.” I nod as I eat the ice cream, not intending to give it back yet. He continues. “And I just wanted to let you know that it’s just a high-pressure situation. The physical and mental toll is going to be tough on the entire team, and well…I guess I just wanted to warn you. I get really intense during play-offs, really focused on that trophy. I’ll be involved in the pregnancy, but I’m afraid my head may not be there all the time and I just wanted to explain it to you. It’s nothing personal. I’m like that with my family and friends too. All of us players, we’re just sort of in a zone, and I didn’t want you to take it to

heart if I’m distant.” My stomach sinks as I process what he’s saying, and I realize I don’t want a different Lucas. I want this easygoing, fun, and sexy guy. He’s making it sound like he’s going to turn into a monster or something during the playoffs. Even worse, what if he’s letting me know this is the start of the end of us? I think he’s telling me that’s when our expiration date will kick in, and I don’t like the way I feel incredibly let down right now. But he’ll never know I feel that way because I don’t share stuff like that. Instead, I put on a pleasant smile and shrug. “I get it. You should concentrate on the play-offs. That’s a big deal, and I’m a big girl. You don’t need to worry about me.” Lucas physically deflates in front of me, letting out a huge sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you understand. I know things are really new, but I figured you’d get my worries. It makes me feel better you know where I’m coming from.” “Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way,” I say as I put the ice cream on my nightstand. And because I’m now feeling this deadline looming over me, I decide to make the best of what’s left. Turning toward Lucas, I pull the

sheet off his lap and bring my hand to his cock, which is lying soft and settled against his leg. He groans when I wrap my hand around it, stroking it in short pulls until he starts to get hard. I look up at him, then down pointedly to his thickening shaft. “I think you’re ready to go again.” He merely grunts in pleasure as I give him a squeeze and smile to myself. At least I have this right now.

Chapter 11

Lucas I lean in toward the bathroom mirror, tilt my head left, then right, make an adjustment to a lock of hair that’s going in the wrong direction, and then I’m done. Ready to go over to Stephanie’s house for the evening. What I’d really like to do is have her over here for a change, but that’s difficult with this being a small house and having a roommate. We get a little loud. It’s also difficult because despite that first night we were together in my house after I learned about the pregnancy, she’s put off any suggestion of hooking up here. I think it’s just another way to keep some distance between us, sort of like she doesn’t want to get comfortable in my space. That’s all just supposition, though, because she and I haven’t talked very much in the last four days. I’ve been on a road trip where we actually clinched first place in our division,

meaning we get home-ice advantage when the play-offs start next week. And next week…it’s on, big time. I turn away from the mirror and walk across the hall to my bedroom to grab my keys and wallet, wondering how tonight will go. Stephanie extended the invite to me when I texted her we were back from the trip, and I was a little bit surprised, because the communication was lacking over the four nights I was gone. I’d text her each morning to ask how she was, and she’d respond with a few lines, but nothing more. She didn’t reach out to me at all, even when we won our games, and I know she was watching them because she’s a big hockey fan. This hasn’t been setting well with me and I have to wonder if she’s getting tired of the friends-with-benefits gig we got going on or even perhaps it has too many strings involved. Regardless of the reason for her pulling away this week, I’m going to get to the bottom of it. She and I are heading into stressful times for both of us, and what we have is as about as solid as melting ice over a lake. I can’t have my relationship with her fucking my head up during play-offs. She can’t afford to be stressed out during the pregnancy.

I head into the kitchen, intent on snagging a bottle of water from the fridge for the ride downtown to Stephy’s house. There’s a knock at our door and my gaze cuts over to Van, who’s lying on the couch watching the news. His eyes come to mine and we engage in a staring contest. Finally I ask, “Are you going to get the door?” “Why me?” he replies lazily. “Um…because you’re closer to it,” I suggest dryly. With a huff, he rolls off the couch and lumbers to the door. I’m a big dude and Van is bigger than me. He’s also an enforcer on our team and he likes to fight. Like a lot. I wouldn’t want to meet a pissed-off Van in a dark alley. Or a lit alley for that matter. He has a lot of rage and aggression that fuels him when he fights, which makes him quite a formidable opponent. Van opens the door without even looking through the peephole and I’m surprised to see Simone standing on the stoop with her luggage.

“Something you’re not telling me?” Van mutters with a sweep of his hand toward Simone. “That’s my sister,” I say with an eye roll, and walk toward them. My eyes go to her and I note she’s staring at Van, and what the fuck, she’s looking at him like she could eat him up. Oh hell no. “What are you doing here?” I practically bark at Simone. Max, Jules, and I have been triple teaming her about returning to school, and it seemed like she had finally relented, promising to return this weekend. She hadn’t missed enough classes yet to hurt her graduation date, and we all three agreed that it would be a secret between us and that Mom and Dad never had to know about her temporary insanity. “I’m staying,” she says as she pushes past Van and leaves her suitcases on the porch. With a toss of her long brown hair off her shoulders, she pats Van on the arm and says, “Can you bring those in for me?” “You’re not staying, Simone,” I say with frustration. “You said you were going back to school.” “Changed my mind,” she says calmly, folding her arms over her chest. “And I can’t

stay long term at Max’s because I’m taking up one of the boys’ rooms and he needs it back. I like this area, I love my brothers, so I’m staying. “ “Not here, you’re not,” I toss out, figuring if I deny her a roof over head she’ll wake the fuck up. “You don’t mind, do you, big guy?” Simone asks as she turns her pretty head and bats her lashes at Van. Jesus…she’s even making her French Canadian accent heavier to add to the allure. I can tell by the look on his face that Van’s not impressed. In fact, he looks quite bored with her, and that’s awesome. He won’t let her stay. Instead the fucker shrugs and mutters, “I don’t give a fuck, but you’re not getting my room.” “You’re not getting my room either,” I tack on. “It’s settled then,” Simone exclaims brightly as she flounces by me and drops down on the couch. “I totally don’t mind sleeping here.” Van looks at me, waiting to see what I want. I give a deep sigh and he knows what that means, so he steps out onto the porch and pulls Simone’s bags in.

“Be a sweetie,” she purrs at him, “and put those in Lucas’s room so they won’t be in the way.” Van answers her by dropping them just inside the door, which he shuts behind him. Without a word, he walks toward the hallway that leads to his bedroom. Simone calls out, “I’m Simone, by the way. Lucas’s little sister.” Van doesn’t even stop or acknowledge her and within moments I hear his bedroom door shutting. I rub my hand over my face and then turn my glare onto Simone. “What the fuck are you doing, Simone? This is crazy even by your standards.” “He’s kind of rude, don’t you think?” Simone asks, completely ignoring my question. “Not as rude as you showing up on my porch with luggage saying you’re staying here without asking,” I say, and then take a deep breath. “And not as rude as you deciding not to go back to school after you agreed it was the best thing for you.” “You don’t understand—” “What I understand”—I come perilously close to yelling at her—“is that you are less than thirty days from graduating with a bachelor’s degree from a fucking ivy league

school, and if you go back now, you will not fuck that up. It is absolutely ridiculous for you to think you can step away when you’re this close.” Simone stares at me a moment and then lowers her gaze to her lap. Her voice is soft when she says, “I’m not that close to graduating.” “What?” I ask, thoroughly confused. Her face tilts up and she’s already wincing at my expected outburst from what she’s getting ready to say. She blurts it out so fast I think I mistake her for a moment. “I actually never enrolled for this semester.” “What the ever-loving fuck?” I yell at Simone, giving her even more reason to wince. “How is that even possible?” “I decided last semester I was just done with school,” she says quietly. “I was racing for a goal that wasn’t mine, but was Dad’s.” “It was your goal too,” I say, discounting her position. “No,” she says firmly while shaking her head. “It wasn’t. Dad is always the one that pushed medical school at me, and well, I just never told him differently, that I didn’t want to be a doctor.” “So you just decided not to finish the last

semester of your undergrad?” I ask incredulously. “What have you been doing for the last two and a half months?” “Working at a bar off campus,” she says. “And the money for your tuition and what Mom and Dad give you for living expenses?” I grit out. “The tuition’s been refunded; the check was sent to me. As for the living expenses…well, I’ve been using some of the money they put in my account each month to supplement my wages.” “They are going to fucking kill you,” I mutter, but that’s an exaggeration. They’re not killers, but they are going to be extremely pissed at her. “Look, Lucas,” Simone says as she pushes off the couch and comes to stand in front of me. “The past three and a half years going to school have been miserable for me. I’ve hated it. It wasn’t what I wanted. Can you imagine day in and day out being forced to do something you hated?” I don’t answer her because I’d have to agree with her, so instead I maintain a stony silence. “Lucas,” Simone says. “I need to be my own self. I’ve got to discover the real Simone Fournier and live my life the way I want to.”

Fuck, that gets me too. Max, Malik, and I are all pursuing careers we are over the moon for. While Malik was an amazing hockey player in his own right and probably would have been professional league material, he chose to serve in the Marine Corps, as we all have dual citizenship since our mother is American. But he loves what he does so much that he’s a career marine. “Simone,” I say as I put my hands on her shoulders. “Yes, you should be able to pursue your dreams and not have to settle for the dreams of others. But you know you went about this the wrong way, right? You should have told Mom and Dad all of this, and you should have done it ages ago.” “You don’t think I don’t know that?” she asks, tears welling up in her eyes. “The last thing in the world I’d ever want to do is to disappoint them. Especially Dad.” That’s the God’s honest truth. Simone as the baby of the family was doted on by both of our parents, but she was always a daddy’s girl through and through. “Okay,” I say as I drop my hands from her shoulders and point at the couch. She sits and looks up at me with her hands folded in her lap. “You have three things to figure out. One,

how you’re going to tell them. Two, how you’re going to make it right with them. Three, what you are going to do with your life.” She nods with earnest eyes and then punches me in the gut when she hesitantly asks in a quavering voice, “Will you help me, Lucas? Will you help me figure out this clusterfuck so I can lead the life I’m meant to?” I blow out a huge gust of air because she’s not completely deflated my indignation over her stupidity. “Yeah, sure. But we need to figure out one and two, like, right now. You’ve got to call Mom and Dad and tell them what’s happening, and it has to be done now. You can stay here for a bit until we figure out three.” Simone flies off the couch and slams into me. My arms go around her and I squeeze. “Thank you, Lucas. I love you so much.” I squeeze her again. “Love you too.” After a moment, I release her and pull out my phone with a sigh. As I prepare to call Stephanie, I mutter to Simone, “Take your bags into my room, then come back to the kitchen. We’ll sit down and just get it all figured out.” “Okay,” she says, all perky and bouncy now that I’m not kicking her out. “And stay out of Van’s way,” I call to her as

she rolls her bags down the hall. “He’s grumpy.” She doesn’t respond and I dial Stephanie. She answers on the second ring, and even though she knows it’s me calling, she still has a formal greeting. “Hello?” “Hey,” I say as I look at my watch briefly. “Look…something’s come up. Simone’s decided she’s not going back to school and she showed up on my doorstep about fifteen minutes ago. I’ve got to stay here and handle some things with her, so I’m not going to be able to make it over tonight.” She’s silent for a moment before she says, “Not a problem at all. I could actually use a good night’s sleep, and you, sir, take up my sleep time.” It’s a funny and lighthearted comeback, but I don’t hear it in her voice. I actually don’t hear anything in her voice that would say she’s pissed, sad, happy, angry, or indifferent, and that doesn’t set well with me. “I’ve got a game tomorrow night,” I say hesitantly. “I wouldn’t be able to come over to your place until pretty late.” What I’d really love is to invite her to the game and then have her come home with me, but this is Stephanie I’m dealing with. That

would be way too much like a date, or it would acknowledge that the relationship is something other than just casual, which we both fucking know it is. “Actually,” she says quietly, and I note without any real disappointment in her voice, “I’ve got an interview for a job over in Greensboro after work. By the time I get back, I’m going to be whipped.” Shit. Greensboro was over an hour and a half away. If she got a job there, our relationship—casual or otherwise—is done. “But you’re still coming to the doctor’s with me day after next?” she asks, and that makes me feel a little better. I’ll at least be seeing her soon, although by the time the appointment rolls around, it will have been a full week since we’d been together, and well, that just sucks. “Yeah,” I say in a chipper voice. “Definitely coming to that appointment. I’ll just meet you there, right?” “Right,” she says, and at least she sounds a little more enthused. “So, good luck with Simone.” I chuckle without any real humor. “Thanks, I’ll need it.” “Okay…bye,” she says softly, and I wonder if she was being true to her feelings would she

say something like, “I miss you.” I wonder that because, fuck, I miss her and I want to tell her that, but I don’t want to freak her out. So instead, I just say, “Bye, Stephy.” “Cancel a date?” Simone asks, and I hear the worry in her voice that’s confirmed when I turn around to see her in the kitchen with concern on her face. “Because you should totally go on that date and we can talk later.” “It wasn’t a date,” I mutter as I walk into the kitchen and pull out a chair for Simone. She plops down in it and asks, “Was that with Stephanie?” “Yeah, but not a date,” I reiterate. “But you like her,” Simone guesses. “Sure I do,” I say evasively. “But you don’t like her, like her,” she pushes at me. “Our relationship is complicated,” I mutter as I sit next to my sister. And fuck is it complicated, as it involves me having a baby with a woman I actually like very, very much, but I’m pretty sure she’ll never feel the same way. “But I don’t want to talk about it. We’re going to fix your shit right now.” “Okay,” she says, sitting up straighter. “First, you’re going to call Mom and Dad

tonight and tell them you weren’t enrolled this last semester and that you won’t be graduating,” I say firmly. Simone moves to interject something, but I hold my hand up and reiterate, “Tonight. Get it done, get it over with.” “But what do I say?” she asks with a cocked eyebrow. “The truth. Exactly as you told it to me.” “Sounds so simple,” she grumbles sarcastically as she looks away. “That is the simple part,” I tell her, and her eyes snap to mine. “You need to figure out how to make this right with them. They shelled out a shit ton of money for you to get an Ivy League education and you need to make it right.” Simone swallows and nods once. “I know, but I’m not sure how.” “You make it right by finishing,” I tell her. “You finish next fall and you get that degree. Let it sit on a shelf for all I care, but you finish what Mom and Dad paid for you to have.” Simone shakes her head. “I’m not going back.” “Then what do you propose?” I ask, knowing that’s really the only way she’ll be able to make things right with them.

“I’ll pay them back the money,” she says with her chin lifted. I bark out a laugh. “And you know how much money you’re talking about? They’ve probably spent more than $250,000 on your education so far when you calculate tuition, books, and living expenses at Dartmouth.” “So it will be an extended-payment plan,” Simone snaps at me. “But I’m not wasting another second of my life doing something that doesn’t bring me happiness.” I let out a frustrated sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “Okay, fine. Let’s leave that for a moment and move to number three. What do you want to do with your life?” Simone blinks at me a few times and shrugs. “I’ve got ideas. Lots of ideas.” Great. Just fucking great. I need to settle in for a long night.

Chapter 12

Stephanie There’s a knock at the exam room door and before I can answer, it’s pushing open and Lucas is walking through. I feel incredibly naked and vulnerable in nothing but this paper gown and my socks as I sit on the examination table with stirrups to the side, waiting for the doctor to come in. I honestly didn’t think Lucas was coming since he wasn’t here when I was called back from the waiting room. My mind raced as to what that could mean while the nurse was instructing me to disrobe while handing me the gown. It took me no more than two minutes to strip, put the gown on, and hop onto the table, but in that time I’d talked myself into believing that Lucas wasn’t going to be a part of this. We’ve hardly talked in the last week and he canceled our date—well, our hookup—the other night. I knew he was going to be pulling back after his talk about the play-offs, but I didn’t think it would include pulling back from

the pregnancy stuff. “What are you doing here?” I ask dumbly. He just shakes his head at me as he shuts the door. “You knew I was going to be here.” “But you weren’t,” I say somewhat petulantly, and I hate that tone coming out of my mouth, but it doesn’t stop me from saying, “You’re late.” “Have you seen the doctor yet?” he asks me, and I want to punch him. “No,” I mutter. “Then I’m not late,” he says with a smirk. He’s right and I give up on discussing it further. “I guess you’re not.” I drop my head and study my hands for lack of anything better to do. Another knock on the door and its opening again, this time an older man with silver hair and black framed glasses comes in. He looks first to me and sticks his hand out. “Hi, I’m Dr. Woods and I’ll be your primary obstetrician throughout your pregnancy.” “Stephanie Frazier,” I say as I shake his hand. He turns to Lucas and then his mouth drops open. “You’re…you’re…” “Lucas Fournier,” he finishes for the doctor

as he shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” The doctor gives a little laugh and shakes his head in amusement at himself. “Sorry, that just caught me off guard for a minute.” “No worries,” Lucas assures the doctor, and then shoots me a wink. He’s in an awfully good mood for some reason and that makes me grumpier. “I didn’t realize you were married, Mr. Fournier,” Dr. Woods says pleasantly, and it’s an honest guess I suppose. I mean, you don’t have to be married in this day and age to have a baby, but Dr. Woods is from a different generation and he probably just thinks differently. “We’re not married,” I explain, and Dr. Woods looks to me. “We’re just friends.” “Oh, I see,” he says with a hesitant smile, but I can tell by the confused tone he doesn’t understand anything about our relationship. Join the club, Dr. Woods. Join the club. Dr. Woods sits on a low stool and rolls it to a desk. He opens up a laptop that he’d been carrying, and after a few moments of reviewing whatever information he has on me already, turns and says, “You estimate that you’re around eight weeks pregnant according to your history.”

“It’s not an estimate,” I tell him. “Well, sometimes you can’t always pinpoint the exact date you got pregnant—” “I know the exact date I got pregnant,” I interrupt him so we can just get on with this. “It was a one-night stand and there’s no one else in the picture near that time.” “Oh,” Dr. Woods says as his eyebrows rise. He glances to Lucas, who’s come to stand beside me as I sit at the end of the examination table. “Oh, I see. Well, then…it doesn’t appear that you have any major complicating factors according to the history form you filled out. Here’s what we’re going to do today. I’m going to do a physical examination of you, including a pelvic exam. We’ll also get some blood and urine samples. And then after that we’ll let you get dressed and then go over into my office where it’s a little more relaxed and we can talk about what lies ahead for you.” I can only nod, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. I’m not sure if I’m giving that vibe off or not, because Lucas’s hand comes to the back of my neck and he gives me a reassuring squeeze. I have to force myself not grab his hand like it’s a lifeboat. “Good,” Dr. Woods says with an encouraging smile, and stands from his stool. He washes his

hands and dries them, and proceeds to give me a regular examination by checking my eyes, ears, throat, and heart. He pushes around on the lymph nodes on my neck and then has me lie down to press on my stomach while asking me if anything hurts. Dr. Woods then helps me to sit up. “Have you been having any issues so far, Stephanie?” “Morning sickness,” I reply, as that’s the worst symptom. With a chuckle, Dr. Woods nods and says, “That should be gone by week sixteen. Anything else?” “Spotting,” I tell him, and from my peripheral vision I can see Lucas tense up. “Yesterday morning, and it was just a little when I peed. Nothing else since and I’d read that can be normal.” “You were spotting?” Lucas asks, his voice rough with annoyance. “And you didn’t tell me?” “I didn’t think it was a big deal since it didn’t happen anymore and I feel fine,” I tell him with my eyes narrowed. Dr. Woods decides to intervene, so he says a little loudly, “Tell you what, while spotting can indicate something wrong, it can be perfectly normal too. So after the pelvic exam, we’ll do a

vaginal ultrasound and check that little baby out.” “You can see the baby this early?” Lucas asks with wonder. “And hear the heartbeat,” Dr. Woods says with a grin. “But I’m guessing Stephanie might feel a little more comfortable if you step out during this part of the exam.” “I’m not going anywhere,” Lucas says indignantly, and I have to suppress a giggle. I jerk my head toward Lucas and tell Dr. Woods, “He’s the one that knocked me up.” “Oh,” Dr. Woods says with wide eyes. “Oh, okay. I see. That’s um…well, okay. Got it. I just thought you were friends.” “With benefits,” Lucas adds, and this time I can’t stop the laugh. Lucas shoots me a grin. “Okay, that was too much information,” Dr. Woods chastises us with an easygoing laugh. “So, Lucas, you’re the father and you’re going through this pregnancy with Stephanie?” Lucas nods. “That’s the gist of it.” “All right,” Dr. Woods says with a clap of his hands as he grabs some latex gloves. “Now I’m caught up on everything. Let’s do the pelvic exam and then we’ll do the ultrasound.” “And one other thing,” I say hesitantly, and

slide an unsure look to Lucas briefly before I turn back to the doctor. “Can you do a paternity test?” Dr. Woods’s eyebrows furrow deep with question. “I don’t understand.” At the same time, Lucas growls, “I don’t want a paternity test.” “You said you did,” I snap in reminder, although inside I want to dance with joy that he doesn’t. “Well, yeah…that was back when I didn’t know you any better than I know Dr. Woods here. In fact, I’ve probably had more conversation with Dr. Woods than I did with you that night I knocked you up.” My face heats up and I glare at Lucas. “Oh grow up, will you?” Lucas merely turns to Dr. Woods and calmly says, “I do not need a paternity test. I know I’m the father.” “You could have mentioned that before now,” I grumble, and I can tell Lucas finds me hilarious as his eyes dance with humor. Dr. Woods’s eyes go back and forth between us a few times before he just shrugs, seemingly to accept our very weird relationship. I’m sure he’s seen it all, though.

Next I suffer the indignity of putting socked feet in the stirrups. When a woman is essentially naked with her legs spread, she shouldn’t be sporting fuzzy socks, and yet here I am doing just that. Then he inserts the speculum, which is perhaps my least favorite thing in the world. I wince a few times as he takes a culture, then probes after removing the speculum. “Everything feels just fine,” he says reassuringly as he removes his gloves, discards them, and then grabs a new pair. He goes to the machine I’d noticed in the corner of the room and wheels it to the side of the table. He turns it on, adjusts a few knobs, and then picks up a thin wand that’s connected to it. “I’m just going to insert this into your vagina, Stephanie. It won’t hurt, but it might be slightly uncomfortable as I move it around so I can find the baby.” “Okay,” I say, but my voice sounds small and terrified. I didn’t mean to sound that way but in a nanosecond, Lucas has my hand engulfed in his. My eyes move to his and he smiles at me. He doesn’t say a word, but then he doesn’t need to. He’s one of the most transparent people I know. A man whose expression will tell you all you need to know about how he’s feeling and

doesn’t care if you see it. His look tells me that he’s right beside me and it’s all going to be fine. He confirms it by leaning over and putting a feathery kiss on my forehead. My eyes go to Dr. Woods, and he smiles back at me as if to say, You’re a lucky girl. Am I? I don’t feel that way, since things have felt so off with Lucas lately. But here he is acting like I’m precious, and I’m so confused I just want to go to sleep and wake up when the baby comes. Dr. Woods puts some lubricant on the wand and sits back down on his rolling stool, bringing himself up close and personal with a part of my body that probably only Lucas has seen more of than me. I can’t help but tense up when he starts to insert the wand, and Lucas murmurs to me, “Just relax, Stephy.” I suck in a deep breath and try to force myself to relax. The wand is so narrow it doesn’t hurt, but when he bumps the end into my cervix, I suck in a tiny breath from the discomfort. Lucas’s other hand comes to my head and he strokes my hair, whispering, “It’s okay. You got this.” I let the air out and watch as the ultrasound screen comes alive with a mass of gray-looking

static. Dr. Woods moves the wand a little and then says, “There’s your uterus,” as he points to a small black area. “And right there,” he says with just a tiny adjustment to the wand, “is your baby. Perfect size. Now, let’s listen for the heartbeat.” My own heart practically stops and Lucas’s hand squeezes mind so hard my bones hurt a tiny bit, but I don’t say anything. I’m too amped up with anticipation to care. Dr. Woods moves the wand, makes an adjustment on the screen, and then the gray staticlike image is gone and is replaced by long wavy lines that move in cadence with the heartbeat, which comes through loud and clear on the speakers. And oh boy, it’s so fast, and it sounds like it’s in a drum and sort of squelchy sounding, but it’s definitely a heartbeat. Dr. Woods listens, checks something on the machine, and says, “Your little baby’s heart is functioning very well.” I roll my head and look at Lucas. His eyes are round and wide as they stare at the machine, his mouth slightly open in wonder. “Amazing,” he says softly, and then looks down at me. “Isn’t it amazing?” I cannot help the smile that breaks out

across my face. In fact, it may be the biggest smile I’ve ever worn in my life, and it’s all because of this man right here. I don’t know what will become of Lucas and me in the future, but I can say he’s given me one of the happiest moments I’ll ever have and I’ll treasure this time together for the rest of my life. — Lucas and I walk out of the doctor’s office and he follows me to my car. I’m exhausted after that visit. Hearing the baby’s heartbeat was the most amazing thing ever, and looking at Lucas’s expression was the most beautiful thing ever. Getting all of the information that came afterward, however, was extremely overwhelming. Lucas carries it all in a folder under his arm and he assured me we’d take our time and go through it together. So yeah, I’m exhausted, I’m confused about my feelings for Lucas, and I’m hungry. All three of these things make me weak of mind, so I succumb to the pressure of wanting to know where we stand exactly. “I can’t believe you asked Dr. Woods if it was safe for us to still have sex,” I reprimand Lucas as we come to a stop by my car door, but

it’s really not a criticism. I just want to open up a conversation about what he’s thinking. He smirks at me. “I’m sure the good doctor isn’t embarrassed about sex talk, Steph.” “Regular sex talk, sure. But when you ask him if we can have wild monkey sex during the pregnancy, that’s a little too much information.” “He had an answer for me, didn’t he?” Lucas retorts with another grin. “So it wasn’t that unusual a question.” True. I was interested in the answer too, and it appears that sex is a go all the way up until my water breaks. Still, Lucas gives me nothing as to why he asked that question, particularly since things seem to be cooling. “Do you have to go back to work?” Lucas asks, changing the subject before I can throw a good comeback at him. I nod. “Yeah.” Is that disappointment on his face? He leans in closer to me, bringing his palm to my cheek, then pushing his fingers through my hair where he holds tight at the back of my head. Dipping his face, he brushes his lips softly over mine and whispers, “And when might you and I be having wild monkey sex again?”

Whenever you want. I blink and pull away slightly. “You want to?” Lucas pulls his chin in and looks at me like I’ve got antennas sprouting from my head. “When have I not wanted to fuck you?” “Night before last,” I remind him. He releases his hold on my hair and gets a guarded expression on his face. “I told you, I had to deal with that stuff with Simone. And I wanted to see you the next night after my game but you put me off, or have you forgotten that?” “I haven’t forgotten,” I snap at him, and then instantly I’m filled with regret. With a heaving sigh, I tell him, “I’m sorry…I think these hormones are getting the best of me.” Lucas’s face softens. “Stephy, I wasn’t getting much from you when I was on the last road trip. You weren’t overly chatty in our texts, and the times I called you at night, you didn’t answer.” “I was sleeping,” I hastily point out. But he and I know I was avoiding him. He just doesn’t understand that I was doing so because I thought he was backing off from me. So I give a tiny admission. “I thought you were pulling back from me.”

He shakes his head in denial. “It just seemed like things had cooled between us, and honestly, I didn’t think it would be a big deal to you if I canceled the other night. In fact, I kind of thought you were relieved.” I look off to the side, across the parking lot. Taking a deep breath, I blow it out and turn back to Lucas. “Not relieved. Afraid.” Understanding dawns clearly on his face. “That we’re getting too close.” I shake my head to clarify. “That I’m opening myself up too much. You were gone on the road trip, and well, I missed you, damn it. And that scared me. I can’t afford to start missing someone. I’ve been there and done that, and it didn’t work out for me in the end.” Lucas responds by pulling me into his arms, pressing my head to his chest, and murmuring, “I can’t stand your fucking parents, Steph. They did a number on you.” I can’t help the laugh that bursts out from my mouth but gets muffled by Lucas’s shirt. I can feel him chuckling as his arms wrap around me. I slip mine around his waist and we squeeze each other. “If this is too much,” he murmurs, “I’ll back off. But I want to keep seeing you. You and I have the most phenomenal chemistry that I

think can exist between two people and I don’t want to give that up.” “I don’t either,” I whisper back. “But—” “It’s still just casual,” he guesses. “No, it’s not casual anymore,” I disagree, and I can see the surprise at my admission on his face. “But I am scared and I don’t know how much further I can go into this. I’m compelled to be with you and also compelled to run away from you, and I don’t know what’s going to win out. I don’t want to hurt you.” “And I don’t want to hurt you,” he assures me. “Let’s just take this one day at a time and see where it goes.” “Okay,” I answer softly, because that means I get him for at least one more night. Then we’ll take it from there.

Chapter 13

Lucas There’s a look that Stephanie gets in her eyes when she’s lost to passion. They’re glazed with lust, indicating she’s in a world unto her own, and yet shining so bright and pinned to me with such intensity that I know she’s no other place but with me. Which is why my gaze stays locked to hers as I move inside of her. I’m actually helpless to look away. She also holds my body tight with fingers digging into my shoulders and legs raised, bent and gripping my sides. While the doctor said we could still have wild monkey sex—my words not his, as he used the word vigorous I think—somehow we lapsed into a slow mating ritual. My hips pump deep but with no rush to get off, my cock luxuriating in the amazing feeling that is all Stephanie. And this time is different. So different.

Less than ten hours ago, I saw our child and heard its heartbeat. That tiny little thing was the size of a bean and not looking like a baby, but well, like a bean, and I was totally in love. It was the first time in my life I’d actually been in love. Stephanie didn’t know it because she was staring in wonder at the ultrasound screen as we listened to that racing little heart, but I turned to look at her and that’s when I fell again. Fell hard for her. This woman doesn’t know what the meaning of motherhood because she was never the recipient of a mother’s undying love, and yet the look on her face said it all. She was also in love with that child, and I could tell it was the first time in her life too that she felt something deeply for another human being. It was fearful and wondrous and joyful and panicked all at the same time, and it was beautiful to behold. As I drive into her slowly and she gasps and moans and clenches all around my cock, I want to tell her how she amazed me today and how I proud I am of her, and that I am humbled to be able to have witnessed her naked love today for our child and grateful that she shared it with me. But I don’t, because those words would be difficult for Stephanie to hear. I’ve come to know her very well, and I

know she’s not ready to admit she can be something different from what she thought. So I hold hard to my silence, hide my feelings, and make love to her slowly and with great care until we both come apart in each other’s arms. — “Want me to go?” I whisper as we lay all tangled up in each other’s arms. That orgasm wrecked us both and we’ve just been lying here pressed tightly to one another. My chin rests on her head and her face is pressed into my neck, where I can tell her breathing has evened out. Stephanie’s arm around my stomach gets tighter and she murmurs, “No. Stay.” A jolt of pure happiness races through me from head to toe. It’s not the first time I’ve slept in bed with her all night, but it is the first time I feel like she wants me here for reasons other than she falls into an exhausted sleep because I fucked her so thoroughly. “Okay,” I say quickly before she can change her mind, and she gives me a squeeze in return. “So, that was a trip today, huh?” she says

softly, and I know exactly what she’s talking about. Stephanie had to return to work after the doctor’s appointment and I had to work out as well as do laundry and some other odds and ends like paying bills. But she’d invited me over and I came loaded with Italian subs and Cherry Garcia ice cream. We ate, we made love, but this is the first time we’ve talked about the doctor’s appointment. “I can’t believe how fast his heartbeat was,” I tell her. She nods against me and I can actually feel her smile through her body into mine. “You said his. Wanting a boy?” “I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy, just as long as it looks like you and not my ugly mug,” I reply jokingly. Chuckling, she squeezes me again and I tighten my hold around her. “Your mug is the furthest thing from ugly.” We fall silent but I want more. “What do you want?” I ask her. Stephanie doesn’t respond right away and I sense in the sudden stillness of her body that she’s trying to figure out how to word it. When she answers, my heart ripples almost painfully for all she never had. “What do I want? I guess I just…want. Doesn’t matter what the gender

is. I just want, and that’s become terrifyingly real to me since this morning. Is that selfish?” “Nothing wrong with wanting,” I tell her gently and as a reminder to stay true to her feelings. “It’s human nature.” And then I know Stephanie’s had enough with the sharing as she pulls away from me and rolls to her back. “I got a job offer.” My head pops up off the pillow in surprise and I roll to my side to look at her. Going up on my elbow, I notice her face is troubled as she stares at the ceiling. “In Greensboro?” I ask. She nods. “It’s actually with an architectural firm and it’s doing project planning.” “But that’s not your background,” I say dumbly. Stephanie chuckles and rolls her head to look at me. “Yes, but there’s not a lot of jobs in geology. I have project planning experience, though, and they think I’m trainable.” Fuck. Just fuck. Stephanie moving to Greensboro means I lose her. It’s hard enough with my schedule getting time to see her, but add her move to another city and it will be almost impossible. On top of that, she’ll be getting her medical

care there, and I will probably be cut out of many of the visits while the season is still going on. And fuck, what does that say about me that my first concern is losing her, the second losing out on the doctor’s appointments? “What are you going to do?” I ask, my tongue thick and practically glued to the top of my mouth. She gives a tiny shrug of nonchalance, but her face remains troubled as she looks back to the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do. It’s a job. Nothing earth shattering. Pays about the same as the museum. I’d have to move, of course, but I’ve got savings to do that. It’s doable…” She trails off, lets her last words hover. “But,” I prompt her to continue. Her neck twists and her eyes come back to mine. “I feel like I need to be sensitive to your needs.” “My needs?” I ask, because those are many and varied when it comes to Stephanie. She nods. “With the pregnancy. You want to be involved.” “I do,” I say softly. And I want you, but I won’t say that. It would freak her out, and I’m not sure I really want to deal with the rejection

I’d probably get back. Stephanie studies me, her eyes flickering with indecision, and then finally resolve. I brace for what she might say. “I don’t think I want to deal with the hassle of a move. I don’t want that type of stress.” Disappointment as keen as a razor’s edge cuts through me that she’s not giving me the reasons I want, but I maintain a neutral expression. “Do you need help financially?” I ask hesitantly, because if she only wants to stay here to let me be involved with the pregnancy, I’ll take that for sure. Her refusal is swift and adamant, and not surprising. “No. I have some other job prospects and the museum still might find a place for me. As long as I can get health insurance, things will be fine. And I’ve got a lot in savings.” Prideful stubbornness. I get it, but still I have to make sure she understands she’ll be taken care of regardless. “Stephanie…I’m sure you’ll find something, but if you don’t, I will absolutely help you until you get on your feet.” I expect her to rebuke me, but I’m surprised when her eyes soften. She rolls her body to face me and places a hand on my chest.

“You’re sweet, Lucas. And you’ve been way cooler about all of this than I could have ever imagined. But I honestly can make it on my own.” “Don’t let your pride get in the way of help if that—” She cuts me off by pressing her fingers into my chest. “I have a lot in savings.” My head tilts and my brows pull inward. “Define a lot.” “As in I have extremely wealthy parents who have set up a modest trust fund for me,” she says with a hint of bitterness in her voice. “That’s how they love. With money. So I’ve got a cushion if I need it.” “Have you ever needed it?” I ask curiously. “Not once,” she says, and her eyes glow with pride, and fuck, I’m actually proud of her independent spirit too even though it completely destroyed her ability to let people in. “But I’ll use it if I have to.” Immediately relief makes my entire body practically melt into the mattress. She should absolutely use that money if she has to, and I’m glad she’s not above doing it. If that’s the only way her parents can be responsible for their child, then she should absolutely take advantage of it.

I raise my hand and lightly grip her chin between my fingers. Leaning in, I brush my lips over hers and give my own reassurances. “If you don’t want to use it, I’m here. I’ll help, and you have to know, Stephanie, part of that is my responsibility. Keeping you safe and secure so our baby is safe and secure.” She nods and gives me a small smile. “I appreciate that.” But it’s not necessary, is wholly implied. That’s okay. I’ve got nothing but time for Stephanie to warm up to something more if that’s what she might want to do. And I really hope that’s what she wants to do. I’m not sure what the fuck has happened to me in the last several weeks, but I know I’m not the same Lucas Fournier that I was the night Stephanie and I first met. Funny how a little bean can change all that. “So what’s going on with Simone?” Stephanie asks, and then laughs when I roll my eyes dramatically. “She’s gone batshit crazy,” I mutter as I pull her back into my arms while I talk. “Dropped out of school. Hasn’t even been enrolled this past semester.” “Did your parents know that?” she asks, and I’m fucking ecstatic when she doesn’t pull

away, but instead burrows in closer to me. I shake my head. “But they do now. I made her call them a few days ago when she showed up on my doorstep.” “Assuming they weren’t happy?” “They were pissed. They yelled at her for a good ten minutes, taking turns on the phone.” “I can imagine,” she says empathetically as she pulls back slightly to look me in the face. “How long will she be in the doghouse?” “She’s already out,” I tell her, and watch as her eyes round with surprise. “Really?” “My parents love us unconditionally, no matter how bad we may screw up in life. And they just want us to be happy, so after they got over the anger, they talked to her about what direction she needs to take.” Stephanie tilts her head, her eyes troubled. “They just let it go?” “Well, not sure they’re letting it go,” I say slowly. “They love her, and they even understand her, but they aren’t letting her get away with it. She has to pay back the money they’ve spent if she doesn’t complete her undergrad. And trust me when I say my parents will hold her feet to the fire on that.”

I get an amused chuckle and a shake of her head, making that glorious head of hair tumble over her shoulder and cover her breast as she says, “My parents would have handled that a little differently.” “How?” I ask with interest, always wanting to learn more about those assholes so I can understand her even better. She settles back down into my embrace, placing her head on my chest. “There was a time in my teens when I was quite rebellious. You know, sort of acting out and such. When they were off traveling, I was content to stay home and be a good girl. But if they were ‘in residence,’ as they liked to call it, I’d often do whatever I could to piss them off.” “Why?” I ask, thoroughly confused why anyone would intentionally poke a bear. “Because it was the only time I got attention,” she says simply, and my heart breaks for her as understanding dawns. “Getting yelled at, being told I was a keen disappointment to the Frazier name, and that I would amount to nothing was way better than being ignored, as fucked up as that sounds. I was ignored so much those tiny snippets of actual attention from them is what sustained me.”

“Jesus,” I hiss out in anger. Stephanie just shrugs. “It’s not like they were abusive or anything.” “That’s fucking abuse,” I growl, but it doesn’t faze her. She knows it’s abuse even if she tries to shrug it off. “It’s what I was used to, and honestly, I adapted, Luc,” she says softly, her hand coming to my arm, which she strokes almost as if she’s comforting me. “You shut yourself off,” I mutter, still bristling with hostility toward her parents. “And that’s adaptation,” she says matter-offactly. “It’s how I survived.” Fuck, I goddamn hate her parents. I want to rail at them and tell them what selfish, evil bastards they are. But honestly, I’ll probably never meet them according to Stephanie and how she thinks they’d react to the baby. “When are you going to tell your parents?” I ask her now that I’m thinking about it. She shrugs, her eyes dropping down where she picks at the edge of the sheet bunched around her waist. “I should probably get it over with.” “We’ll call them together,” I reassure her. No way in hell I’m going to leave her alone

while one of the greatest things to happen to her will be met with no enthusiasm and probably disdain. “What about your parents?” she asks, lifting her head up again to look at me. “Probably tomorrow,” I tell her. “I wanted to give them a few days after Simone dropped the bomb on them.” “But they won’t be mad, right?” “They’ll be stunned, but once that wears off they’ll be thrilled,” I tell her confidently. “Trust me on that.” Stephanie smiles at me wistfully before she lies back down in my arms to snuggle. “That’s nice.” She’s loose and relaxed, and it seems a perfect fit between the two of us. I decide to take advantage of it. “We have an afternoon game tomorrow.” “Against the Cougars,” she says, and I’m not surprised. Total Cold Fury fan. “Want to go to it?” I ask casually, and then I hold still to gauge her reaction. She’s still settled and comfortable in my arms, which is a good sign. She doesn’t even hesitate when she says, “Yeah, sure. That sounds like fun. Assuming tickets are

available.” I chuckle and squeeze her. “Trust me…you can get a ticket.” She pulls up her head and looks at me in question. “Honestly, Stephy,” I say with a tone of mock censure. “You’re sleeping with a player for the Cold Fury. I think I can get you a ticket.” “I don’t want you to go to any trou—” My mouth hits hers and she’s silenced immediately by the kiss I bestow upon her. When I release her lips, I run my nose along hers. “I have season tickets, Steph. Simone will use one tomorrow and you can have the other.” Her answer is a tilt of her head, and then her mouth is back on mine for a deep kiss that sparks and then flares lust within my body. Just like that, I’m not tired at all and ready to go again. It’s Stephanie’s way of showing me that I made her happy and that she accepts my invitation to the game. My hand slides down to her ass, and I push my fingers through her legs to touch her wetness from behind. Stephanie moans into my mouth and my dick turns as hard as granite just from that tiny touch and her

response. I had more to say to her, but this takes precedence. This will always take precedence because it’s so fucking good. But after we’re done and settled back in, and before I drift off to sleep, I need to remember to tell Stephanie she’s mine for the rest of the day after the game. It’s time she stepped out of this little bubble we’ve created together and I know she’s ready, because she admitted yesterday this is no longer casual. Slowly but surely, I’ll get her wanting more from me than just the best sex I know either of us has ever had. I can live with just that, but I don’t want to, and I want her to want more too.

Chapter 14

Stephanie I follow Simone up to the front door of Lucas’s house. I’m ashamed to admit it didn’t take much for him to get me to come over after the hockey game, but I am not ashamed to admit I had a blast at the game. Simone was the perfect person to sit next to. She’s wild, uninhibited in her enthusiasm, and generally made a spectacle of herself as she cheered on her brothers and heckled the other team. While they were very focused on their jobs when the puck was in play, they would sometimes cut their eyes her way as we sat in the front row right beside the penalty box and I could see they were amused at her antics. Well, most of them were. Van glared at her a lot. I’ll also admit a little shamefully that I was a wee bit jealous that Lucas didn’t look at me once. Not during warm-ups, not during commercial breaks, and not after the game was over and they skated off.

Of course, the fact that Lucas was quite insistent I come over to his house after the game makes up for that little snub. He was so insistent about it this morning as I woke up with his hand between my legs and his mouth kissing my neck that he wouldn’t let me climax until I agreed to spend the night at his house. What’s a girl to do? Simone unlocks the door and I step inside behind her. I haven’t been here since that first time three weeks ago after we had dinner at Max and Jules’s house. Lucas has invited me a few times, but he’s never pushed it. I assumed we always met at my place because he has a roommate and I don’t. I also think that kept things very casual and in the realm of just a hookup. But tonight we’re crossing more boundaries and I freely admit we’re not just about hookups anymore. The Cold Fury kicked the Cougars’ asses tonight. They have to be riding high as this last week of regular season play winds down and they gear up to meet the Florida Spartans in the first round of the play-offs a week from today. “I’ll pull the steaks out of the fridge to season them up,” Simone says over her shoulder as she drops her purse right in the

middle of the living room floor, where she leaves it without a backward glance. “Any chance you know how to get the baked potatoes ready to fire up?” I laugh as I glance around the living room, which bears the mark of Hurricane Simone. There’s a pillow and blanket on the couch, along with what looks like an empty bag of popcorn and three cans of soda on the table. She has some clothes slung over the back of the couch including a white lacy bra. “Yeah, I can handle the potatoes.” “Oh shit,” Simone says, and I turn to look at her. She’s watching me looking at the mess. “I thought I picked all that crap up before I left for the game.” I grin as Simone starts grabbing the clothing and stuffing it behind the back cushion of the couch. It’s not being hidden from anyone, as there’s enough clothing back there that the cushion now sticks out. “Sucks not having any room for anything,” she mutters. “Have you thought about getting your own place?” I ask her. “God, yes,” she says with a huff of frustration. “But first things first. I need a job. Lucas has been really cool letting me stay here,

but I need to totally get my own apartment.” “I imagine it can’t be all that fun living in a house with two stinky boys,” I tease her as I walk into the kitchen and put my purse on the table. I expect Lucas and Van will be here within the next hour and we can have everything ready to go but the steaks on the grill, which Lucas said was his specialty and we were not to cook them. “No fun at all,” she mutters again, but I don’t comment on the apparent frustration in her voice because she’s already back in the kitchen and chattering away about the game. We work side by side in the kitchen seasoning steaks, getting the potatoes in the oven, and gossiping. Simone sips on white wine while I drink water, and I find her easy to talk to. She doesn’t try to pry into anything personal and has the amazing ability to make casual chitchat almost…fun? Yeah, Simone is a fun girl. She not only looks like her brothers but seems to have the same easygoing, happy-go-lucky personality, which I’m going to have to assume has been handed down by their parents. The front door opens and Simone and I turn that way. My breath catches as Lucas walks in wearing a silvery-gray suit that’s fits his body

to perfection. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower he took after the game and he’s carrying a huge duffel bag over his arm. His eyes come to me immediately and his smile makes my legs feel jelly-like. He smoothly steps over Simone’s purse lying in the middle of the floor as he walks toward me, setting his bag on the couch as he passes it. “Son of a fucking bitch,” Van curses loudly, and my eyes catch him stumbling behind Lucas. He rights himself and his eyes go immediately to Simone. “For the love of all that’s holy, can you once again please not just leave your shit in the middle of the floor?” The harshness of his words shocks me and I notice two things at once as I glance around the room. Van’s anger is lost on Lucas, who doesn’t react at all, and Simone’s eyes heat up with mischief as she looks back to Van, who is truly pissed off. Now that’s very interesting. “Sorry,” Simone coos innocently, but she doesn’t offer anything more. Van mutters something under his breath and stalks off down the hallway, presumably to his room. I catch a hint of an amused smile on Simone’s face before she turns away, but then Lucas has his hand behind my head and he’s

pulling me in for a kiss. For a moment I hesitate, because Simone is standing two feet away, but the minute his lips touch mine there’s no more thinking for me. It’s only about feeling, and I let myself just fucking feel. Just…no words at all to describe it. Lucas pulls back only slightly so he can skim his mouth over my cheek on the way to my ear, where he whispers, “Can’t tell you how much I really like seeing you in my home.” I shiver over the combined warmth and desire in his words, even as I feel uneasy that my being in his home is important to him. Pushing it aside, though, I change the subject as he pulls his head back to look at me. “You played an amazing game.” His voice is still low, soft and meant only for me to hear. “Glad you think so. I feel like I struggled the entire time not to look at you because I knew you’d distract me.” Oh wow. Not just a shiver. A full-body shudder. And a sweeping sensation of belonging overtakes me, at first feeling amazing and then overwhelming that I can affect someone that way. I step back from him and give a

tremulous smile. “Don’t say things like that. You know it freaks me out.” He’s not chastised at all, and this is a bolder Lucas Fournier I’m dealing with when he says, “You’ll get used to it. Don’t worry.” My mouth drops open and he turns to Simone, swiftly hooking an arm around her neck and pulling her into him. His other hand curls into a fist and he rubs it quickly over the top of her head, giving her a furiously fast noogie. She shrieks, sloshes her wine, and tries to pinch him on the inside of his leg to get him off of her. I just watch, fascinated as two siblings wrestle playfully with each other, and it makes my heart hurt and feel good at the same time. “You asshole,” Simone grunts as more wine spills from her glass and she tries to get loose. “Come on, Simone. What’s the problem? You used to be good at getting out of these holds,” Lucas taunts her. “I’m holding a glass of wine, for fuck’s sake,” she yells. Movement behind me catches my attention, and I see Van come back into the room. We haven’t been officially introduced and I start to do so, but I notice his eyes are locked on to Simone, and whoa boy, I don’t like that look.

It’s dark and filled with intense dislike from what I can read. Lucas abruptly lets Simone go and Van’s face smooths out into bland impassiveness. He cuts his eyes to me and gives a lift of his chin. “I’m Van.” “Stephanie,” I reply, and then he pushes past me to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m not staying,” he says to Lucas. “Going to head out for a while.” “You sure, man?” Lucas asks. “I got a steak with your name written on it.” My eyes cut to Simone and I see she’s disappointed but watching Van closely. He doesn’t look her way at all but just shakes his head. “Nah…got hot and dirty plans tonight.” “All the more for me.” Lucas shrugs, and my chest tightens a little as I see the hurt look on Simone’s face. Van’s gaze comes back to me and he gives me a quick smile. “Nice to meet you, Stephanie.” “Yeah, sure,” I say softly to his retreating back as he nimbly sidesteps Simone’s purse still in the middle of the living room floor and walks out the door.

Now there’s a story there between them and I wonder if Lucas knows anything about it. — “I think it’s fair to say I’ve never been this nervous in bed with you,” Lucas says as we lie on our sides staring at each other. His cellphone sits between us and his gaze drops to it. We’re both still fully dressed, having spent a really nice few hours eating dinner on the back deck and talking to Simone. I heard story upon story about the Fournier family, and I reveled in learning what a normal childhood would actually look like. I actually memorized details and committed things to memory, intent on using them for my own knowledge on how to raise a child with love, patience, and absolute presence of body and soul. Simone left a little while ago, snagging Lucas’s car keys and saying she was going to head to the mall for some shopping. Not sure how a girl trying to get her own apartment and a job has money to shop, but I didn’t say anything. Simone’s a bit of a mystery still to me, and I think there’s some tremendous discord between her and Van, but Lucas seems oblivious to it so I don’t give it much thought.

Not my place anyway. “We don’t have to do this right now,” I suggest, and I’m a little hopeful he’ll agree with me. Lucas’s gaze comes back to me and he grins. “Let’s just get it over with. Me first, then you.” I take a deep breath, drawing through my nose and then letting it out slowly through my mouth. “Okay. Let’s do this.” We look at each other for just a moment more, perhaps trying to convey confidence and strength to the other, and then Lucas reaches down and dials his mother’s number. When she answers, he puts her on speakerphone. “Hi, sweet boy,” his mother says in a lilting voice. “Not a boy, Mom,” Lucas says dramatically, and then grins at me. “Always you are,” she returns sweetly, and then says, “You and Max were wonderful tonight. Did Simone go to the game?” “Yeah, she did,” Lucas says as his jaw tightens with resolve. “But listen…I need to talk to you about something important. Is Dad around he can get on the phone?” “He’s not,” she says, and I can hear the worry in her voice. “He’s on call tonight at the

hospital. Should I dial him in on this?” Lucas shakes his head although his mother can’t see this. “No. It’s nothing bad, at least I don’t think so. You can fill him in later.” “Okay,” she says with no hesitation, trusting her son implicitly, which I find to be very endearing and also very weird because it’s beyond my imagination. “What’s up?” Lucas takes a deep breath and lets it out. I give him a nod of encouragement, reaching my hand over to take his. “Okay…not sure how to lay this out to you, but bear with me.” “Whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll get through it the way we always do, supporting each other,” she assures him, and damn it, my eyes actually start to prickle over the unconditional acceptance and love she’s showing. It’s almost unreal, and part of me can’t even understand it, while the other part feels like my heart is going to swell and burst out of my chest. “So, I’m seeing someone,” Lucas begins. “Oh honey…that’s fabulous. I can’t wait—” “Mom…let me get it all out,” Lucas interrupts her. “Okay. I’m sorry. Go on,” she says with a laugh. “Her name is Stephanie and she’s here on

speakerphone with me.” He’s begun with the end of the story and not the beginning. “Hi, Stephanie,” his mother gushes. “I’m thrilled to talk to you.” “Hi, Mrs. Fournier,” I reply as I watch Lucas roll his eyes. “Nice to meet you.” “Please, call me Marilyn.” “Mom…Stephanie…please,” Lucas growls. “Let’s get this on the table before you become besties.” His mom falls silent but I can’t help chuckling. “Okay,” Lucas starts again, and then pauses to make sure he’s not interrupted. I incline my head toward the phone, prodding him to get it done. “Okay, we’re seeing each other now, but it didn’t start out that way. It actually started out as sort of a brief encounter and unfortunately—or fortunately as the case may be now—our method of birth control didn’t, um…hold up very well.” I drop my eyes from Lucas before I burst out laughing over his awkward attempt to explain a shredded condom, even though I know it’s highly inappropriate to be laughing at this point. “She’s pregnant,” Marilyn breathes, and I hear neither anger nor joy in those words. Just

wonder, perhaps a bit of bit of censure, but mostly an underlying tone of acceptance. “Yes,” Lucas says softly, and his hand squeezes mine. “She’s pregnant. We didn’t want to tell you until she had her first doctor’s visit and we were sure things were okay with the baby.” “Oh wow…a baby,” Marilyn murmurs, now with more wonder and a definite hint of joyful surprise. “A baby. As in I’m-going-to-be-agrandma baby?” “A baby,” Lucas says in an emotional sort of whisper, and I can tell he’s deeply touched by his mother’s response so far. His mom is silent for a moment, but when she talks again, we can hear clearly that she’s crying. “Oh, Lucas…a baby. I can’t even…just… I wasn’t ready for this, but actually, wait…I am ready for this. You’re clearly ready for this so I’m ready for this. And you’ll make a wonderful father, and we can’t wait to meet Stephanie, and I need to call your dad. We’ll need to book a trip to Raleigh to all sit down and talk about it, and Stephanie…I can help you plan, involving whoever else you want, of course. I’m not going to butt in or be a busybody, but I’m here if you need it and just… Oh my God…a baby!”

Lucas’s face tilts to me and our eyes lock. We both grin at each other while his mom continues to ramble on, and I breath out a sigh of relief at how easy that was. I know she’s going to have lots of questions and this is still a big shock for her, but I lay my head on the pillow and settle in while Lucas starts to tell mom exactly what’s going on in his life.

Chapter 15

Lucas “Your mom,” Stephanie says after I disconnect the call and look back to her. “She’s unbelievable.” “Told you,” I reply with a smile, and she nods. Because yes, I’ve been trying to reassure her that my parents were going to be supportive of us, but I knew she’d never believe it until she heard it with her own ears. “You’re very lucky,” she says, eyes soft with happiness for me that I have the parents I have. Not one ounce of jealousy within, just complete satisfaction that I have something amazing in my life. That right there tells me Stephanie cares for me a lot more than she’ll ever admit, and that’s okay by me. I’ve figured out well enough that I’m in this for the long haul. She’s not going anywhere, as we’re going to always be connected by our child, and I’m fine with her coming to a slow realization that she can

actually open her heart up to a relationship. “Shall we call mine and get it over with?” she asks while wrinkling her nose in distaste at the idea, and I’m immediately filled with both anger and sorrow for her. Fucking hate her parents. Fucking hate that look on her face right now, especially after watching her wonder and delight as we talked to my mom. I grab my phone and toss it behind me before reaching an arm out to pull Stephanie closer. She lets out a huff of surprise as I move in, pressing our bodies tight. “We’ll call them later.” “Later?” she asks, but then she purrs as my mouth comes to hers. I’m filled with elation over my parents knowing and supporting us, and sadness that Stephanie will never know that from her own. I want to distract her, and show her there’s more to life than what she knows, and so I do it in the easiest manner for her to handle such closeness. My hands roam over her body, dipping beneath clothing, touching and caressing and pinching, all the while my mouth moves over hers. Hearing her tiny breaths and silky moans fuels me on to take more and more from her.

It could be hours or minutes, but time stands still as our clothes come off. I know it’s not possible, but I feel like we do this without ever breaking contact, and that’s because we’re lost to sensation and growing lust. “Luc,” Stephanie whispers as I bring my hand to her pussy, lightly stroking and teasing her flesh there. Her hips rotate and flex toward me and she gives a tiny growl of frustration when I won’t give her more. “Easy,” I tell her softly. “I’ll get you there.” “Not before I die,” she admits on a soft breath. My heart clenches over her admission and a need wells up inside of me. A need to possess her and make sure she understands that at least at this moment, she’s all mine and I’m all hers. My fingers get slippery and I roll them over her clit while I move my mouth to her breasts. Her body arches and she fucking pants out her needs. “Please, Luc…right there…so close.” And when she does finally break apart while riding my fingers, I can feel her partly submit to the knowledge she is indeed mine and I’m hers, hopefully forever, if I have my way. I want to make sure that knowledge stays embedded in her heart and mind, so I roll her

to her stomach and bring my body on top of hers. My legs push down between hers and then spread, causing hers to open up. My mouth goes to her shoulder blade and I give her a tiny bite. “Mmmmm…what are you doing back there?” she asks in a sated voice. Way too sated. I need to wreck her again. I rear up to my knees, pulling her up at the hips as she lets out a tiny grunt of surprise. “You know what I’m doing back here.” Her laugh is husky. Delighted. Wanting. My hand goes between her legs and two fingers easily slide into her from behind. “Tell me how bad you want it, Stephy.” She just moans with her head turned on the pillow, her eyes closed in rapture as I slowly pump my fingers in and out of her. “Tell me you need it,” I murmur, adding another finger. “Luc,” she huffs out as she pushes her ass backward, seeking more. “Tell me, Steph,” I urge, going a little harder, feeling her flesh hugging my fingers tightly. “I want it,” she gasps as I graze my thumb between her ass cheeks. “I need it.”

“Beg for it, baby,” I groan as my other hand goes to my own aching dick to stroke it. “Please, Luc. Don’t make me wait any longer.” A harsh breath escapes through my nose and gritted teeth and I remove my hand and replace it with my cock. As I nudge her entrance, her hips roll with an urgency to bring me inside of her. I bring my hands back to her hips, and with a smooth forward push of my hips, I slide into her all the way. “Fuck,” I mutter at the sensation of her slick, hot flesh cocooning around me. “Fuck.” Stephanie pushes up onto her hands, but her head hangs low, almost as if she’s been defeated. I stay still within her and ask, “What are you thinking, baby?” She doesn’t answer me right away, her head just hanging down. But then she rolls her hips and brings her head up, twisting her neck so she can look at me over her shoulder. Her voice is rough, as if the words are hard to get out, but she slays me when she says, “I’ve never had this before.” “What’s that?” I urge her softly to let her feelings out, because I know she’s not talking about great sex. Stephanie shakes her head, as if she doesn’t

want to admit it, and her eyes slide away. I press my fingers into her hips and encourage her. “It’s safe with me. Whatever it is.” Her gaze comes backs to me, locks in place, and she murmurs, “Such a desire to let go of everything that I ever believed in.” My cock thumps in response to that, even though I know she’s again not talking about sex. She doesn’t have to spell it out for me, but she’s talking about the lock on her heart and the closed door on her trust. I can see even admitting that little bit to me is painful for her, and I don’t want to push too hard. “Then just let go for right now,” I tell her with a smile, rubbing my thumbs soothingly across her skin. “I swear you’re safe with me.” She smiles at me and says, “Okay.” And then she lets go. — “Relaxed?” I ask Stephanie as we lie side by side on my bed, staring up at the ceiling again, breathing back to normal, bodies thoroughly sated. Our normal position, as if the ceiling has all the answers to our dilemmas. “Mmmm-hmmmm,” she purrs. My hand slides across the mattress and

grabs hers. Our heads roll on the pillows so we look at each other, and she grins. “I think you broke me.” “Good,” I tell her with a return smile. “I like you broken, and pliable and amenable to all my demands.” Stephanie snorts and looks back at the ceiling. “I guess we better get this over with.” “Let’s do it,” I say encouragingly as I push up and slide back to rest against the pillows and headboard. She also pushes up and doesn’t resist when I pull her closer to me and tuck her into my side, my arm protectively over her shoulder. “Where’s your phone?” I ask her. “Let me use yours,” she says, and I blink at her in surprise but grab it from the mattress beside me and hand it over. “Why mine?” “Because my mom won’t answer if she sees it’s me calling,” she says matter-of-factly, and it still amazes me how much Stephanie has accepted what douches her parents are. “Seriously?” I ask with disgust. Stephanie’s eyes come to mine and she gives me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t get too aggrieved. I don’t answer when she calls me either.”

I don’t understand it and probably never will, but I have to make peace with the fact that this is what Stephanie knows, and until me, probably all she ever knew. She dials a number and gives me the same courtesy I gave her by putting it on speakerphone. It’s answered on the second ring, right as I pull Stephanie back into me. “Maris Frazier speaking,” a brisk, nononsense voice answers. Holding the phone between us, Stephanie says, “It’s me, Maris.” Stephanie had told me that she’s always called her parents by their first names, Michael and Maris. She said this was instilled at such an early age she doesn’t even remember being taught that. She was also sort of blown away when she got to boarding school and found out that most kids called their parents Mom and Dad. There’s a moment of silence before her mom finally says, “Did you get a new phone number?” No warmth and joy at hearing her daughter’s voice. Just an understated curiosity about her cellphone. “No. Just using a friend’s phone,” she says. Another moment of silence, and then a

slight cough before her mom says, “Well…how are you doing?” “I’m pregnant,” she responds, and I suck in such a surprised lungful of air I start coughing. My head spins to catch Stephanie’s eyes while I hack into my elbow, and she just gives a nonchalant shrug at me. “You’re what?” her mom hisses. “Pregnant,” Stephanie says. “Got knocked up in a one-night stand.” I cough even more, completely stunned how different this conversation is from the one with my parents, and I’m seeing that rebellious daughter Stephanie said she’d become to get a reaction from her parents. “Jesus Christ,” her mom mutters disdainfully, and I can even imagine the expression on her face as if she just smelled dog shit. Stephanie doesn’t respond but just patiently waits, and I know that this conversation is probably par for the course. Finally, her mom speaks again, and her voice is low as if she’s afraid of being overheard. “I’m not ready to be a grandmother. I’m too young.” I’ve quit coughing by this point, but I’m once again stunned by such self-interest.

Stephanie replies to her mother blandly. “Don’t worry, Maris. You don’t have to tell anyone.” “Well, okay,” she says hesitantly, and I can’t help myself. “Fucking hell,” I mutter loud enough that Stephanie blinks at me before looking to the phone. Her mother’s voice is sharp. “Is someone on the phone with us?” “My baby daddy,” Stephanie says, and now I know she’s just driving the knife in deep, having given up all hope that her parents might actually be happy or supportive. “This should be a private matter,” her mother snaps at her. “Okay,” Stephanie says easily as she looks at me with an unwavering gaze. She doesn’t touch a damn thing on the phone but tells her mom, “I’ve taken us off speakerphone. It’s just you and me.” Stephanie raises a finger to her lips and indicates for me be quiet for the rest of the call. I’ll try, but I know it won’t be easy. “What do you expect out of Michael and me?” Maris Frazier asks, and that breaks the last straw of hope that I had that perhaps Stephanie was exaggerating about her parents

and their inability to care about their child. “Nothing, Maris,” Stephanie says, and her voice is quite pleasant. “You and Michael have nothing to worry about. I just wanted to let you know, as this brings about some pretty big changes in my life and I might be pretty busy. Contact could be sporadic.” The relief in her mom’s voice is evident and disgusting. “Well, okay then…that’s good. And thank you for letting us know. That was kind of you so we didn’t worry.” “Sure thing,” Stephanie says easily, and I just listen, bewildered and angry over this exchange. “I’ve got to go,” her mom says quickly, and I can tell it’s a lie. “I’ve got an appointment I’m late for.” “Okay. Talk soon,” Stephanie replies breezily, and I know that’s a lie too. There’s no way in hell Stephanie will want much contact with her parents about the pregnancy. “Bye-bye,” her mom says, and the phone disconnects. Running a hand through her hair, Stephanie lets out a deep breath of relief. Staring down at the phone, she says, “And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the freak show that I call my mother.”

“I can’t even, Stephy,” I mutter as I take the phone out of her hands and pull her into my arms. As I rest my chin on top of her head, she circles her arms around my waist and we just sit in silence for a moment. Finally, I say, “I heard all the things you told me about them, but I just couldn’t comprehend it. How she could be so…so…” “Cold?” “Yes.” “Distant?” “Definitely.” “Assholish?” “One hundred percent,” I agree, and we both laugh. Because honestly…what else can we do about it?

Chapter 16

Stephanie Pulling open the door to The Grind, a coffee shop not far from my apartment, my eyes sweep the interior for Jules. I get distracted, though, by the eclectic décor, a hodgepodge of different styles that somehow works together. I see her sitting at a small table in the corner near the front window, sipping a coffee. She locks eyes with me and I hold up a finger to her as I walk to the counter to order a tea. After I get my cup and saucer, I head toward Jules’s table, blowing on the hot tea as I walk. She greets me with a bright smile and nods at the empty chair. “Glad you could come.” I sit down with a huff after placing my tea on the table. “Glad Lucas gave me two minutes of breathing room so I could come.” She grins at me and teases, “You really don’t seem all that put out by it.” And no. No, I don’t. More and more I’m craving my time with

Lucas, which scares the shit out of me. We spent pretty much the entire weekend together, which included the night we called our parents, all the next day and night at my apartment minus a few hours where he had practice and I did my laundry, and most of Sunday. This included plenty of sex, good food, several movies, lots of laughs, me barfing in the mornings while he rubbed my back, and more awesome sex. It was only my promise to Lucas that he could stay tonight at my apartment again that he grudgingly let me come meet Jules for coffee at her request. “So what’s up?” I ask her curiously, and I note with genuine interest in myself that I actually feel quite comfortable sitting here with her. Making baby steps, I think. I can see a flash of disappointment on her face that perhaps I’d engage with some girly gossip about how things are going with Lucas, but then she puts on a happy smile. “I think we should take your idea to put kids and the elderly together for a test spin.” My eyebrows shoot up. “How?” “I was talking to Annabelle’s preschool teacher about your idea and she loved it. One thing led to another, and she said they could easily turn that into a field trip. Then I called

the activities director at Sweetbrier and she also loved the idea and was willing to host Annabelle’s class for a visit.” My breath hitches but I force it out with an, “Oh, wow.” Jules nods excitedly. “So can I tell them you’re in? I’ll put you in touch with both of them.” “Whoa,” I say with my hands up and a nervous laugh. “This is moving fast and I don’t know if I can handle it right now.” Jules tilts her head. “I’ll be glad to help.” “I don’t know,” I say dubiously, my mind racing as to whether I can take this on given the fact my life is a little topsy-turvy right now. “Oh, I won’t take credit for it,” Jules hastens to reassure me. “I’ll be in the background.” I roll my eyes at her. “No, that’s not it, and if I did it, I’d totally want your help if you’re willing. It’s just…” It’s just what? The words won’t come out and I have no clue why I’m hesitating. “What are you afraid of?” Jules asks me softly, and my eyes shoot to hers. “I’m not afraid,” I say tersely, because I’m not afraid of fucking anything except perhaps

intimacy and love. Then I completely cringe at my own tone because it sounds so bitchy. I soften my voice and smile at her sheepishly. “Sorry…I like to pride myself on my bravery, so any suggestion I’m afraid causes my hackles to go up. Which is odd, because I’ve been nothing but afraid since Luc knocked me up.” Jules chuckles. “He’s pushing you out of your comfort zone, huh?” “Way out,” I admit, and then risk a sip of tea. When I set the cup back down, I also admit, “But I’m dealing, and it’s not all so bad.” “Why are you hesitant about this idea of a field trip for Annabelle’s class?” I blow back my bangs with a deep exhale. Circling my finger around my teacup, I admit to her, “It’s just…things are so crazy right now. I’m on the verge of losing my job, potentially moving to another city if I can’t find another job. I’m pregnant, which is still freaking me out, and well…there’s Luc.” “All that stuff is a piece of cake,” Jules returns dryly with a wave of her hand. “With the exception of Lucas.” She grins at me and I have to admit…that’s funny, so I smile back. “It’s just,” I start, then stop, remembering I don’t share.

“It’s just what?” Jules pushes at me. “Spill it and get it off your chest. You’ll feel so much better for it.” “Fine,” I say with another sigh—this one of defeat—and I let it out in a frenzied rush before I chicken out. “I don’t know what’s going on with Luc and me and I’m scared, and well…my life has turned around a hundred and eighty degrees in the last few weeks and I sometimes feel like I’m on quicksand. Sometimes Luc makes me feel like I’m sinking faster, and sometimes I feel like he’s pulling me out, and I’m so confused. But what’s weird is I think I want more, and I think he does too, but I’m not sure because we don’t really talk about those types of things, and the reason we don’t is because I think he’s being deferential to my feelings because he knows how fucked up I am in the head so he tries to protect me, you know? And I am rambling on like an absolute maniac, but, well…you asked for it.” Jules eyes are dancing with humor as she looks across the table at me. “I don’t get it. Lucas is a phenomenal catch. He’s totally into you and it’s so obvious.” I don’t respond, holding my silence. For her to understand my hesitancy, she’d have to know a lot more about me, and I’ve only ever shared that with Lucas. I like Jules a hell of a

lot. Probably more than any other woman I’ve been casual friends with, except for maybe Simone, who is a hoot to be around. Can I open myself up to someone else? On the other hand, if I don’t answer her question, I look like a total bitch, and I don’t want to be that. Jules is going to marry Max and become Lucas’s sister-in-law, and in turn, become our baby’s aunt. She’ll be in my life as well, and I don’t want to have stilted relationships with these people. I take a sip of my tea, more as a stall tactic than anything. After setting the cup down, I decide to admit frankly to Jules why it’s troubling that Luc is into me, as she says. “You know how some guys aren’t into relationships?” I say. She nods and I continue. “And they really don’t want to get close to a girl, so they’re only in it for the sex, because that’s all they got to give?” Jules appears confused. “Luc isn’t like that with you.” I give her a sad smile because she’s not looking at this the right way. “No, he’s not. But that’s the way I am with him.” “What?” Jules asks, pulling her chin in as she looks at me skeptically. “I’m like a dude when it comes to

commitment,” I tell her gravely. “I’m relationship averse. I’m afraid to trust. I’m into hookups and one-night stands because that’s all I have to give someone.” Jules is shaking her head disbelievingly before I even finish. “No way. Don’t believe it.” “Believe it,” I mutter. “Good joke, though,” she says with a cute smile. “Not a joke,” I deadpan. The light from her eyes dies and her smile turns into a frown. “Wait. Are you serious?” I just stare at her and her frown gets deeper. “So you’re saying that you’ve never been in love?” she asks hesitantly. “Nope.” “Never had a long-term relationship?” “Nope.” “Never wanted to have a relationship?” My answer doesn’t come readily and she seizes on my hesitation, yelling at me across the table as she points her finger. “Aha. You want a relationship with Lucas.” “No way,” I say as I shake my head at her denial. Absolute false denial, but I don’t correct it.

“Totally way,” she throws back at me. “You’re completely off base,” I tell her as I cross my arms over my chest. She doesn’t fire back at me right away, but instead appraises me with her finger tapping against her chin. Then she looks like she has some major revelation because she puts her forearms on the table and leans forward to murmur, “You want something more with Lucas but you’re afraid.” “Bingo,” I grumble in complete and quick defeat, my cheeks flushing with warmth that I admitted my weakness. I’ve never had a conversation like this with another woman and it’s totally uncomfortable, and yet I know deep in my heart I need it. “So what’s the hang-up?” she asks pleasantly, then takes a sip of her coffee. Before I can even think to answer or tell Jules to mind her own fucking business— which I would actually never do because she’s as sweet as the day is long—someone is pulling out a chair and sitting down at our table. I turn my head to see the beautiful girl who had served me my tea at the counter when I came in. She turns her silvery-blue eyes my way for a brief smile and then turns to Jules. “Sorry. I was just now able to take a break.”

“A break?” I ask, wondering why this waitress feels like she can sit here with us. My confusion is alleviated when Jules smiles brightly and says, “Stephanie, this is Lexi Robertson. She’s Brian Bannon’s daughter and also is dating Roman Sýkora.” It hits me all at once and I actually recognize her. There was an article in the paper about the car accident she’d been in a few months ago and how Brian didn’t know she was his daughter until recently. And yeah, I remember that she was dating a Cold Fury player. I like Roman Sýkora a lot on the ice because he’s always stirring the pot out there. “Nice to meet you,” I say with a hesitant smile. “I thought it would be nice for you to meet some of the Cold Fury better halves,” Jules says with a wave at Lexi. “Figured everyone could use more friends.” I just stare at Jules blankly, unsure of what to say. I was on the verge of spilling my guts to Jules, but now I’m sealed up tighter than a clam because Lexi is a complete stranger to me. Jules continues to chatter. “And since you’ll be around for the long term and have a Cold Fury kid on the way, I thought it would be nice

for you to start meeting the others.” My jaw drops open and I look to Lexi to see her smiling at me, then back to Jules. “You told her about my pregnancy?” There’s no mistaking the ice in my tone and Jules is clearly taken aback. Her hand reaches across the table and she lays it on top of mine. “God, no. That’s not my place.” “Roman told me,” Lexi says softly, and I turn to look at her as Jules pulls her hand away. “Lucas told the management and team at yesterday’s practice.” “He did?” I ask, stunned to be hit with this without any preparation. I’m a private person and pregnancy is about as personal as you can get. Add the fact I was basically a one-night stand that got me pregnant and it’s just not something I’m prepared to discuss with strangers. “I just assumed you two had agreed to tell people,” Lexi says softly, apologetically. Did we? I know we talked this weekend about letting the cat out of the bag to some select people. I anticipated it would be a small group, not an entire hockey organization along with their significant others. “Are you okay?” Jules asks gently. I nod my head and clear my throat. “Yeah…

sure. I just didn’t realize that Lucas was going to run right out and tell the entire team. I thought it would be just family and maybe a few close friends. Maybe his roommate, Van.” “But the team is his family,” Jules points out. “You’ve not been involved with the organization very much yet, but every one of those people who make up the Carolina Cold Fury are like family to each other. And frankly, they’d need to know, because although you’re doing the heavy lifting, the pregnancy affects Lucas as well.” Jesus. My gaze slides left and I look out the window to the city street. I hadn’t thought of that when we’d talked about it this weekend. I just didn’t consider that Lucas has a lot more going on outside of the little bubble he’s been cocooned in with me lately. And that means I may have to step outside that bubble. “Is this a problem?” Jules murmurs. I turn back to her, cut a quick glance to Lexi, and say with a completely forced smile that I hope to God looks genuine so they don’t feel awkward, “It’s not a problem. Just took me by surprise is all.” Jules isn’t buying it, so she looks at Lexi. “Do you mind giving us a few minutes?” Lexi jumps up and says, “Not at all,” while I

hold up my hand and insist, “No. Stay. Nothing private to talk about.” But Lexi abides by Jules’s wishes and not mine, and she’s gone before I can even shut my mouth again. I turn back slowly to Jules and brace myself for her to ingratiate herself into my life. “You don’t have to talk about Lucas or your relationship or lack thereof at all,” she says earnestly, but I don’t relax one bit. Those are the right words but surely she doesn’t mean them. “Now, what about us arranging a visit for Annabelle’s class to Sweetbrier. It won’t take much effort. I’ll do all the legwork since you’re working full time still, and if anything it will just be something fun to do because I know it once brought you joy. I think it will—” “Wait a minute,” I say as I hold my hand up, cutting her off. “You’re just going to drop the whole Lucas-slash-relationship thing?” “Well, yeah,” she says slowly. “That’s what you wanted, right?” Hell yes, I wanted that. Except…I could use some advice on how to handle this. But no, I don’t need advice. I can figure this out on my own, just the way I always have. Definitely can handle this on my own.

I give her an abashed smile. “I’m sorry…let’s talk about something other than Lucas and me.” Jules just gives me a completely accepting nod and I exhale with relief. “Are you up for helping me with Annabelle’s class trip to Sweetbrier?” she asks. “Yes, of course,” I assure her. “It will be totally fun. And call Lexi back over here. She really didn’t have to go.” Jules waves across the cafe and I assume gets Lexi’s attention, because then she starts talking about the logistics of putting a group of toddlers with a group of folks in wheelchairs. Lexi joins us and offers ideas, volunteering to help as well. I listen with half an ear, make appropriate comments, and keep a smile plastered to my face. I try not to think about the fact that I was just on the verge of spilling all my secrets and insecurities to Jules. I can’t even believe she could inspire that within me, and I’ll even admit I’m slightly disappointed in myself that I pussed out and clammed up. Maybe another time we can talk. If I can get up the courage to just let the fuck go of all of my hang-ups. I’m a fucking work in progress, that’s for

sure.

Chapter 17

Lucas “Fuck,” I snarl as I dig through my drawers. “What is it this time?” Stephanie asks as she leans up against the wall, arm across her stomach, the other hand hovering near her mouth so she can nibble on her nails as she watches me freak out before the game. The game. The first play-off is game tonight, and admittedly, I’ve transformed into a bit of an asshole. In fairness to her, I sort of warned her it was coming. “My goddamn lucky underwear,” I grit out as I pull more clothes out and drop them to the floor. I figure I get a pass on being cranky since it’s the play-offs and a completely stressful time. “What do they look like?” she asks hesitantly, because this is the first I’ve shared with her about my lucky underwear. I wear them to every play-off game, so they are quite

tattered because they get washed almost daily, and now that I think about it, I’ve never won a Stanley Cup before, so why in the fuck I consider them lucky is beyond me. Whatever…I can’t break the streak now. “They’re black with a gray band,” I explain to her, miming with my hands at my waist. “Old. The band is frayed.” She dips her head and covers her mouth with her hand, trying to hide her amusement from me as I turn back to dig through the next set of drawers. “Simone,” I bellow as I straighten up and push past Jules. When I get to my bedroom door, I stick my head out. “Have you seen my lucky underwear?” “I moved all your underwear to the tall dresser,” she calls back. “Check there.” “Goddammit,” I mutter, and let out another string of curses as I stalk to the tall dresser to rummage through. When I don’t find them in the first drawer, I yell out pissily to Simone, “And stay the hell out of my shit.” “I think someone could use a good orgasm about now,” Stephanie murmurs from behind me, and I hear the bedroom door shut. As I’m tossing clothing left and right, she presses into my back and wraps her arms

around my waist. A slight thrill courses through me, but doesn’t in any way diminish my anger over not finding what I need. I don’t acknowledge her touch, though, needing first to lay my hands on my briefs. Stephanie’s not deterred, however, as she’s a bold and sensual woman. Her hand drops down to cup me between the legs and desire courses through me, but I push it away because finding my fucking underwear is just more important right now, and fuck…I sound like a girl. This pisses me off even more, causing me to shrug her off. “Not now, Steph. I’ve got to find that underwear.” She steps away from me without a word and I push the guilt down for this rough treatment. I’ll make it up to her later. After the game. “What can I do to help?” she asks softly. “Aha!” I yell out in victory, holding up my ratty-looking boxer briefs. “Found them.” Chuckling, she mutters, “Crisis averted.” It’s not a laughing matter, though. This was some serious superstition that could have ruined everything if I hadn’t found them. I give her a cursory glance and ask her in a brisk voice as I turn to throw my drawers in my

game bag, “You’re going to stay the night here again, right? After the game, you’re coming back here with me.” “Actually, I’m not,” she returns in a calm, even tone. My body locks tight and I turn to her in disbelief. “What?” “Remember,” she says slowly, as if I’m a kindergartner. “They’ve asked me to come in to work tomorrow and I agreed. I have to be in too early, so I told you I was staying at my place.” I scrub a hand through my hair in frustration as Stephanie watches me guardedly. “You can’t just get up a little earlier to make it into work?” “Lucas, no,” she chastises me…again, like I’m a child. “It’s going to be a late night as it is with the game, and then I know there’s going to be a celebration after because y’all are going to kick Florida’s ass. It’s just easier to stay at my apartment.” “Fine,” I snap at her before whipping around and stomping to the closet. I pull out a suit, throw it onto the bed, then turn back to my tie rack to select one. As I flip through them, I bring up a bit of a sore subject with me, and since I’m a little bit

—okay a lot—irritable today, I say, “Max told me that you are going to take Annabelle’s class over to the nursing home Jules works at.” I look at her briefly and she blinks in surprise that I would know this. Why the fuck would that bother her? “Um, yeah,” she says carefully, and perhaps she’s reading my pissy vibes or something. “We’re looking to do it week after next.” “And you couldn’t have told me this why?” I ask a little petulantly—okay, like a snottynosed brat—as I snag a butter-yellow tie. Her jaw is locked tight when I look back to her. She speaks through partially clenched teeth when she says, “I didn’t realize I had to tell you everything I did.” Wrong fucking words for the mood I’m in right now. “I’d be grateful if you just told me something you did. Anything at all I’d be grateful for.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks indignantly. “It means you hold yourself in reserve most of the time and you’re not a big sharer,” I mutter before turning back to my closet to grab my dress shoes. “Getting close to you is like trying to break into Fort Knox, and I’m beginning to think it’s insurmountable and I

wonder if you do it on purpose.” She draws in a sharp breath, and I’m ashamed I just hurt her with those words, but I get so damned frustrated sometimes with how hard it is to chip away at her walls. “I thought I’d done remarkably well over the weeks we’ve been together, letting you in,” she says bitingly, and that’s all true, but I’m well beyond giving her acknowledgment right now. All my stress is pouring out onto her and I don’t do a damn thing to take it back. “I’ve told you more about me than any other person alive. I’ve shared more of myself with you than I ever thought was possible.” “If you say so,” I quip as I turn back to my closet to avoid the further look of hurt and anger I know will be evident. I have nothing left to grab out of here, so I just stare into the interior. “Asshole,” she says so softly I’m not sure I heard her right. I wait just a few seconds and then turn to see what else she might have to say to me, but she’s gone. “Goddamnit, Stephanie,” I roar as I bolt out of my room. I race past Simone, who is sitting on the couch with a worried look at the open

doorway. “Shit,” I mutter as I bolt for the door. I hit the screen so hard my hand punches a hole through it, causing me to yell, “Fuck.” Making another attempt to exit, I hit the latch and practically lurch out onto the porch, seeing Stephanie halfway across the yard heading to her car. “Stephanie!” I yell out to her. “Hold the fuck up.” She ignores me and walks faster, her delicate hands curled into tight fists that I’m pretty sure want to knock my teeth down my throat. I barrel down the porch steps and across the lawn, and just as she’s about to step off the curb into the street, I latch on to her elbow. Spinning her around to me, I growl at her, “What the fuck? You’re just leaving?” “Let. Go. Of. My. Arm,” she says menacingly, each word bitten out with barely contained fury. She is dangerously close to flipping her shit, and an overwhelming wave of guilt hits me that I would bring this down upon her. The mother of my child. I release her arm immediately and watch her with worried eyes.

“I don’t deserve that shit from you,” she says softly, but still with an underlying fury that scares the crap out of me. She continues, “I get you may be stressed out, and fine…if that’s the way it’s going to be, then I’m just going to politely decline to be in your presence. It seems to be the best way to save your life, because I swear to God, I want to strangle you.” “Fuck,” I mutter as I tip my head back to face the sky for a moment. I then bring my gaze back to Stephanie and let loose my own feelings. “I don’t need this shit today of all days.” “Which means I should leave,” she snarls at me as she wheels around to her car, and I realize I’m a moron. That was totally not the right thing to say to an irate and aggrieved woman with pregnancy hormones racing through her. “Christ, I’m sorry,” I blurt out as I jump forward and take her elbow again. “Please… just stop and let’s talk this out. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ve never had to explain this behavior to anyone before.” “You’ve explained it already,” she clips out, pulling her arm from my grasp, which I let go immediately.

“Fine, yes,” I admit guiltily. “I explained I’d be stressed. I guess I just don’t know how to temper myself with you. I just…I’m not sure what I’m doing.” “You’re chasing me off, Luc,” she says softly, and I feel like she’s punched me in the gut. “You’re making me put my walls back up. For a woman who’s not had much conflict in her life because my parents didn’t care enough to even make conflict, I have to tell you I don’t like this feeling. I don’t want to deal with it, and one of the reasons that being alone is a benefit is that you don’t have to deal with these things.” “You want to call it quits?” I ask hotly, my anger flaring again that she’d dare threaten me so blatantly. “Of course I don’t want that,” she says calmly, and her rational demeanor settles me down a bit. “And while I can logically understand this is a very intense time for you, I’m not putting up with this bullshit. If you’re cranky during play-offs, fine. Call me when they’re over. Otherwise, learn to deal with it instead of taking it out on me.” “In other words, mind my p’s and q’s around you?” I ask sarcastically, still driven by an anger I can’t seem to get under control, even

though I know I’m digging my own grave. Taking a deep breath, Stephanie lets out a sigh and gives me a sympathetic look. For all the ways I think she can be the immature one in the relationship because of her hang-ups, she responds to me with amazing sensibility. She steps up to me and places her hands on my hips. “I want you to be yourself, Luc, and you’re not a mean or cruel person. I know this, and I’m apparently as much a hothead as you are, which doesn’t make the greatest combination in the worst of times. You’ve always been so confident in yourself and what we have together, I don’t think it ever occurred to me that you might have some bad days too, and perhaps I could be a little more empathetic.” “Now I really feel like shit,” I mutter in acknowledgment to the absolutely perfect fucking words she’s saying to me right now to diffuse the situation. “Don’t,” she says. “I’m a moron,” I grouse. “But a cute moron,” she says with a tiny grin and a bat of her eyelashes at me to lighten the fuck up. “I’m sorry,” I tell her as my arms gather her in close to me. She hugs me back and pats me

on my ass, again in a move to cut the tension. She pulls her head back to look at me solemnly. “Let’s go in and get you packed up and off to the arena. I’ll be at the game tonight with Simone screaming my ass off for you. And then I’ll stay with you tonight and just get up a little earlier to go into work, okay?” “I don’t deserve that kind of response from you when I was just such a dick.” “You were a dick,” she concurs with a laugh. “The big thing is you’re aware of it, and perhaps you can figure a way to not do that again.” “Of course I can,” I tell her with a huge exhale of contentment. “I hate I took this out on you. Of all people, it shouldn’t be you.” “You’re forgiven.” She squeezes my waist hard so I know she’s telling the truth. “I should take it out on Simone,” I mutter as an afterthought when I release Stephanie. “She’s the one who moved my lucky underwear.” She stares at me a moment, then bursts out laughing. I grin back at her before taking her face in my hands and giving her a knockout kiss that takes her breath away. “I’m sorry,” I say again softly when I lift my mouth from hers.

“It’s fine. We’re fine.” “Lucas,” we both hear Simone calling out, and we turn to see her standing on the porch holding my phone. “You got a call. It’s Mom.” “My good luck call,” I say to Stephanie in explanation as I take her hand. “She always calls before a game, but not my dad. He texts because he’s too nervous to talk.” “That’s adorable,” she returns sweetly. “Are you nervous?” I shake my head. “Not really. We’re ready and we’re playing the best we’ve played all season.” “I love confidence,” Stephanie praises me as we cross the lawn. “Your quiet type of selfesteem. You’re not bold or cocky, but completely composed and genuine. It’s one of the reasons that you’re so comforting to be around.” I stop in midstride and look down at her with shock over her words. This is very unlike Stephanie to admit these things without a lot of provocation; she usually does so only after I’ve wrecked her with orgasms. “What?” she says in mock offense as she takes in my astonishment. “I can be complimentary.” I grin at her before I give her swift, hard kiss

of appreciation because she’s so fucking cute and awesome and I love it when she’s out of her element. I love that she’s growing continually and it makes me so fucking hopeful for the future. She grumbles something under her breath and pushes me toward the porch. “Go answer your phone call.” Laughing, I let her hand go and trot up the steps to snag the phone from Simone. “Hey, Mom.” “Wanted to wish you luck, sweetheart,” she says in her mom voice that brings back memories of her packing me off and out the door to hockey practice growing up. She always wished Max and me luck on our way out. She continues, “I don’t want to hold you up on game day, but your father and I would like to come in next weekend if that’s okay with you to meet Stephanie.” “Okay,” I say casually, although I’m excited as hell on the inside. “Sounds like a plan, and I’ll let Simone and Max know too.” My eyes go to Stephanie as she watches me in silence, and I listen as my mom makes her goodbyes. When I hang up, I tell her, “My parents are coming next weekend for a visit.” “Because they want to see you play hockey?”

she guesses. My lips tip upward in amusement. “Because they want to meet the woman carrying their grandchild.” “Shit,” she mutters, and both Simone and I laugh at her. “Suck it up, buttercup,” Simone teases. “Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with this family now.” I note with alarm that Stephanie actually goes a little pale. I can almost read her emotions, like she just got hit with a shocking wave of realization that there’s no getting away from my family. The panic coming off her is almost palpable as she realizes she’s going from being utterly alone in the world to having a huge support system that she didn’t ask for, nor did she think she ever needed. She swallows and puts on a brave smile, and it makes me fall for her even harder. I loop my arm around her neck and pull her into me so I can guide her up the steps. I lean over and kiss the top of her head, murmuring, “Don’t worry, Stephy. You’ll get used to all of this eventually.” She snorts. “Or it will drive me to drink.”

“Not until after the delivery, though,” I say sternly. Her response is an elbow to the ribs, which makes me laugh and squeeze her harder into me.

Chapter 18

Stephanie I reach across my kitchen table, which is now littered with so much paper I can’t even see the wood of the tabletop. I flip through a few things and pull out my stack of credit card statements for the last three months. I flip through them, placing a check beside essential needs I’d purchased and crossing through items that were nothing more than wants. After that’s done, I use the calculator on my phone and add up all of the checked items to determine what would be my average monthly credit card debt if I cut back my spending to just the bare necessities. Turns out there’s not much to cut, as I’ve never been one to succumb to extravagant purchases. With a frustrated sigh, I push the statements away and grab the stack of bills for my utilities. It’s pointless to look at them because there’s nothing I can really cut. I need electricity and

water, and I don’t have cable. I only pay for Internet access, and that’s unfortunately a necessity as well. Sitting back in my chair, I throw the bills and pen down, looking at the mess before me. It looks as jumbled and out of sorts as the mess that’s become my life in the last eleven hours. I had walked into work eager to start my day, but instead I found Mr. Wagoner waiting for me in my office. Correction. Not my office anymore. Seems the budget constraints could not be overcome and unfortunately my job was one of five eliminated. “It’s with a pained and heavy heart that we’re terminating your position immediately,” he’d said, and truthfully, he did look distressed. I was numb, however, and nothing really penetrated. Not even when he finished with, “But we are going to give you two weeks of severance pay.” That was nice. I suppose. I stayed in sort of a daze for the entire walk back to my apartment, carrying only my purse. I didn’t even have a pathetic little box with my personal items because I didn’t have any

photos of family and I’m not really a knickknack person. I only had a paperweight in the shape of a NC State Wolfpack head and that felt heavy in my purse. I came home, took off my work clothes, put on jammies, and I crawled into bed. I pulled the quilt over my head to shut out the bright light of day. I settled into the mattress and opened myself up to hopelessness and depression that I was essentially jobless and only weeks away from abject poverty if I continued to ignore the trust fund from my parents, as I’ve done since I was twenty-one when it came to me. I lie there, and lie there, and lie there, waiting to fall into a deep slumber that had an “I don’t give a shit about anything” vibe written all over it. But then I got a call, and for the first time ever, I can admit my mom did something good for me. It was short, because I cut it off pretty quickly, but it was impactful. “Stephanie,” my mom said in her professional boardroom voice. “I’ve been thinking about this pregnancy.” “Okay,” I’d said, shocked as hell she called. Shocked as hell I even picked up. And shocked as hell that she wanted to discuss something so

personal. My shock turned to inflamed outrage when she said, “Have you considered an abortion? It would be an easy solution to your problem.” I couldn’t even respond I was so blown away by her words. She continued. “You’re not really equipped to handle a baby. You’ve got a useless degree, a career with no upward mobility, and you really just job hop around, living more hand to mouth than anything.” My jaw actually dropped. I mean, I didn’t think either one of my parents could offend me more than they have with their appalling neglect of me growing up, but well…she did it. I’m shocked speechless. “Stephanie?” she snapped into the phone when I didn’t answer. “Are you there?” I shook my head, came out of my daze, and asked her a question in return that I’d wondered about for years. “Why didn’t you abort me, Maris?” She let out a huff of indignation that was completely fake. “That’s a terrible question ask your parent.” “No, it’s really not,” I said calmly. “You didn’t want me, so why even let me be born?” “That wasn’t an option,” she scoffs.

“Well, why not?” I pushed at her. “Roe v. Wade was settled law. It was clearly legal. It was an easy solution, and you seem to think it’s good enough for me to consider. So tell me, Maris…why didn’t you abort me?” She didn’t answer me and her silence sort of told me the truth. Oh, she’d considered it, and considered it hard. I took a wild guess. “It was too late, wasn’t it? By the time you found out you were pregnant, you were too far along.” “I don’t have to answer that,” she said in the most profoundly small voice I’d ever heard her use, and I knew I’d guessed correctly. I did nothing more than quietly disconnect the call and knew I’d never answer another one from her again. This also spurred me into action, and I shed the hopelessness and frustration over my job loss like fucking dried skin that was no longer needed. What remained underneath was tender, vulnerable skin, so I conjured up a suit of titanium armor for protection. I was good at that. This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a job, and I’ve always had confidence I’d bounce right back again. And I always have. The only thing

different this time is I have a baby to worry about, which now means the pressure is much higher. So I’ve been sitting here at my table for several hours, trying to figure shit out. How long can I afford to stay in this apartment? While I didn’t make a crap ton of money at the museum, I made enough to pay my bills and put a little into savings each month. What are my chances of getting a job, especially with health insurance? I’d turned down the job in Greensboro because Lucas was my primary consideration. I didn’t think it was fair to cut him out of the pregnancy. But now I’m not sure I can afford to take those considerations into mind when trying to come up with a game plan. I’ve got to worry about the baby first, me second, and Lucas after that. At least I think that’s the order. It may have been different before that call from my mother, but that’s definitely the order now. I can’t afford to be sentimental. A banging at my door startles me so badly I let out a little yip of fright. And the fear doesn’t let up either as someone is now jiggling the doorknob. My heart starts beating faster, but then I hear Lucas calling out, “Stephanie…are

you in there? If so, please open the fucking door.” I push up out of my chair quickly, my eyebrows furrowed at the panic I hear in Lucas’s voice. I run to the door and swing it open, catching a flash of the extreme worry on his face before it immediately melts away into overwhelming relief. He jerks me into his arms and mutters, “Thank God. You’re okay?” His arms tighten and he hugs me for long moments with his lips pressing kisses into my hair. I finally collect myself and wiggle free of his hold, tilting my head back to look at him. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” “We were supposed to meet for dinner an hour ago,” he says, and my eyes cut over to my clock. It’s now 7:30 P.M. Looking back to Lucas, I tell him, “We didn’t have dinner plans.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Uh…yes we did. I sent you flowers at work, told you to meet me at Evo at 6:30 P.M.” I purse my lips and nod in understanding. “Aha. Well, it appears you sent the flowers to the wrong place.” “What?” he asks in confusion as I step back to allow him in. He continues in a frustrated tone, “I’ve been trying to call and text you. Isn’t

your phone on?” “It probably is,” I say flatly as I turn to the kitchen. “But it’s in my purse in my room and I wouldn’t have heard it, as it’s on vibrate.” “Jesus, Steph,” Lucas says in exasperation. “You scared the shit out of me when you didn’t show up at the restaurant and you wouldn’t answer the phone. I thought something happened to—” “I’m fine,” I cut in before he can even finish that thought. “We’re fine.” “Then what’s going on?” he asks again, this time with a growing irritation in his voice, and he takes in the papers on my table. “What’s all this?” “Bills,” I tell him, then amend to clarify, “paid bills. I’m trying to update my budget.” “Because?” he prods. “Because I lost my job today. I didn’t get any flowers because I wasn’t there.” “Fucking hell,” Lucas mutters as his face morphs again from annoyance to sympathy. “I’m sorry, babe.” I shrug. “It is what it is. I’ll figure something out.” “We’ll figure something out,” he says firmly as he pulls me into his arms and my entire

body stiffens. Not because I’m offended, but because he’s interfering in what I do best, and that’s taking care of myself. He’s putting smudge marks on the new shiny titanium armor I just put on, and it’s getting ruined. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I should be grateful for his concern, but when it boils right down to it, it causes my stomach to hurt at the thought of depending on someone for anything. My mom just made it clear today that I have to buck up and be strong. I once again wiggle free and play it off as if I want a drink of water from the tap. I walk over to the sink, pull a clean glass from my cupboard, and fill it. “Want anything to drink?” I ask with my back turned to him. “Stephanie,” he says softly, and I dare not turn around now. I can tell by the tone of his voice that his face is going to be filled with empathy and resolve to be my man who will conquer all my troubles. Swallowing the feeling of panic, I plaster a bright smile on my face and turn to him. “We should definitely go out to dinner and celebrate. You guys kicked ass in Florida.” Yes, the Cold Fury was on a roll. Weirdly, they lost the first game of the play-offs at home, which was the night Lucas and I got into

our first argument. He was not in a good mood that night and I regretted my decision to stay with him. Not that he was an ass to me or anything. He kept his word and didn’t take his frustrations out on me. But he wasn’t fun to be around and all he wanted to do was just go to sleep. I was totally okay with that, but again…I had to be up early, and because we weren’t celebrating, I really wished I’d just stayed at my apartment. But whatever. Luckily, the Cold Fury rebounded big time and won the next home game as well as the two against Florida on the road. He just flew back in today and we had plans for him to come over tonight. I just didn’t figure he’d send me flowers at work and tell me to meet him at a fancy restaurant, and I screwed that up by not having my phone with me. Or perhaps I didn’t have it with me because I’m subconsciously ignoring Lucas. I knew he’d try to call at some point, and by not having my phone within reach to hear it, maybe I’m just trying to sabotage things with him. “Stephanie,” Lucas says again, softer this time and completely ignoring my statement that we should go out to celebrate his wins. “Tell me where you want my place to be, and

I’ll go there. I’m not trying to handle you. Just help if I can.” I completely deflate. Every single fear, anxiety, and doubt I have about Lucas and what he is to me just evaporates. It takes up no more space in my world than the air does, and that’s because he just assured me that he’d play by my rules. This man utterly knows me and knows that I have to do things a certain way. Lucas has offered to move into a place where I can designate him to stay, and even though I won’t do that, there is security in knowing that I can and he’ll be okay with it. Three steps and I’m in his arms, my face pressed against his chest. He hugs me without hesitation and my arms wrap around his waist. I breathe him in deeply, that particular scent that is all Lucas and is perhaps the best smell in the world. Turning my face, I put my cheek against him and murmur, “I’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t answer the phone and sorry I won’t let you help me. But you get it, right…why I don’t want you to help me.” “I get it,” he assures as his hand rubs my back. “But I would like to support you, and I’ll just do that by saying I’ll never let you falter. If

you stumble, I’ll pick you up, dust you off, and push you on your way.” “Oh God,” I mutter, and squeeze him harder. “Stop saying shit like that. You make me want to roll over and bare my throat to you.” Lucas snickers and pulls back to look down at me. “You are fucking amazing. You’ll be fine.” “I know I will,” I tell him with a confident smile. “I always am, and apparently you won’t let anything bad happen to me.” “You know it,” he confirms, and I have to admit, that security blanket he’s giving me feels soft and soothing. “Let’s go out and eat dinner,” I suggest, and damn, I love the way his eyes light up as if I’d just given him the most extravagant gift in the world. He thinks my time is the most extravagant gift in the world. “Where do you want to go?” he asks. “Somewhere close and fast,” I say as I head back to my room to get changed. “Then you and I have some time to make up for in the bedroom. It’s been a long five days without you.”

The air is practically knocked from my lungs when I find myself scooped up in Lucas’s arms and then he’s propelling us through my bedroom door. He takes me straight to the bed, where he sits me down on it and starts taking off my pajamas. Laughing, I try to push him away, but I don’t really mean it. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to eat.” “We need to fuck first,” he tells me as he starts pulling off my pants. “You’re right…it’s been a long five days.” I bat his hands away from me. “Get your own clothes off. It will go faster.” Lucas grins and we both start stripping as fast as we can. Within moments we’re tangled in the bed and it’s really the only place I want to be right now. — Lucas pulls out of me and I hate that I feel so empty when he does. But he doesn’t roll over to lie beside me like usual, and instead puts his mouth to my collarbone. Slowly and methodically, he continues to skim his lips over my skin, working left to right and inching down farther along my body. It’s not sexual, but it is worshipful, and I watch him with my

breath held in my lungs as he kisses his way down my body, scooting his own down the mattress. When he reaches my stomach, he lies flat on the bed and turns to lay his cheek right over my belly button. My heart thuds hard against my chest and a warmth unlike anything I’ve felt spreads through me as I realize he’s snuggling up to our baby. My fingers go to his hair and I work them through the thick waves, petting him as he lies on top of me. After a few moments, he lifts his head and turns his eyes to me. “Your stomach is still so flat. I can’t wait until you get a baby bump.” I grin down at him. “That probably won’t start until week twelve or so at the earliest, so we still have a couple more weeks to go.” Lucas tips his face and presses a kiss to my stomach briefly before looking back up at me with a licentious smile. “You do realize that when you get that bump, it’s going to make me hornier.” Snorting in response, I push away at his head. “Whatever.” “I’m serious,” he says as he crawls back up my body. “I’m fucking horny right now thinking about your baby bump.” “You’re horny because you have a naked

woman under you,” I point out. “True,” he admits. “But I’ll be hornier when you have that little bump sticking out.” “Oh God,” I moan in horror as he rolls off and pulls me with him. “That means more clothes, and that’s not something I want to have to spend money on.” Lucas holds his silence, and I know this is calculated to keep me in my comfort zone. He knows I don’t want my baby daddy buying me maternity outfits, although I do hate shopping so much maybe that would be okay for him to do. Even though he’s being respectful and cautious, he still wants to be in the know. “You have any ideas what you’re going to do?” I don’t mind sharing with him and discussing ideas. “I’m just going to put in applications and résumés wherever I can. I’m not picky at this point, but I am going to try to concentrate in the downtown area so I can at least keep this apartment. I don’t want to deal with a move anywhere, especially not away from you.” “You’re that hot for me, huh?” he jokes, but I also hear the tenderness in his voice, and I know he understands I’m staying in this area so he can be involved with the pregnancy. He

doesn’t have to say it either, but I know if I fell flat on my face, he’d help me stay in this area, and while I don’t want to appreciate that about him, I totally do. “I’ve been thinking,” I toss out, and then gauge his initial bodily reaction. He’s loose, relaxed, and stroking his hand over my hip. He’s not poised to jump on any little thing, wanting to come in and rescue me. No, he’s patiently waiting to see what my plan is, and then he’ll give me advice. “I’ve been thinking,” I start again, “of using some of my trust money to start up the nonprofit.” Lucas immediately releases me and pushes back so he can look me in the face. “Really? That would be awesome.” My lips press together in disdain at what I’m about to say. “I’d have to use some of that money to exist on until I got it up and running. I couldn’t start a full-time job and do that at the same time.” With his head tilted, Lucas asks, “Why should that bother you?” “I don’t know,” I say with frustration at myself. “I’ve never wanted that money. I didn’t earn it. If I use it, I have to be thankful to my parents for something, and I don’t want to be

grateful to them for anything. I thought I could probably stomach using it to start a nonprofit, but the idea of using it to pay my personal expenses is making me slightly nauseated.” He doesn’t say anything at first, but rather sits up in the bed, taking me with him. Lucas then runs a hand down my arm, and back up again in a soothing way meant to reassure. “Steph…I get exactly why you don’t want to use that money. Your reasoning is sound and legitimate. But let me offer this. Your parents never gave you the things you needed growing up. You never got love, security, support, conversation, devotion, whatever. But maybe they can give you something now that you need. Yes, it’s money, but it will help you. I’m not saying you have to be grateful to them for it, but perhaps you should take it because it’s your due for all the ways in which they failed you.” My brows draw together, not because I’m confused by what he says, but because I’m confused by my reaction to it. Confused as shit, because for the first time ever, I don’t feel aversion to something that’s attached to my parents. It doesn’t make me feel slimy and it doesn’t turn my stomach to consider taking the money I considered to be a payoff. Maybe Lucas is right. Maybe it’s my due and

I would put to very good use. “I think you might be right,” I murmur to him. “Maybe that is the answer to everything.” “See,” he says with a bright smile. “That just solved a lot of your problems. And now you can actually do something that you’re passionate about.” I lean into him, grab his face, and plant a huge kiss on it. “I’m passionate about you.” “I know,” he says cockily, and then he kisses me and it’s even better. When we pull apart, his expression turns sober. “I’m going to offer a bit of help, though, and you can just say yes or no. It’s not a big deal.” “What?” I ask guardedly. “Will you let me buy your health insurance?” he asks hesitantly. “I want the very best for you and our baby, and the very best will be expensive.” “You want to cover the cost?” I ask for clarification, and mainly to stall, because I don’t know what my answer would be. “Well, I know you wouldn’t marry me, which would automatically entitle you to my policy, so yeah…let me buy your health coverage.” Lucas’s tone is carefree and light, indicating

this isn’t a big deal. But his tone changed slightly when he talked about marriage, and I wonder if that’s something he would want. I know it’s not something I want, or at least I’ve never wanted in the past. Granted, Lucas makes me feel something I’ve never felt before, so perhaps I’m changing. I’m just not sure it’s enough to ever give him what he might truly want from me. A family. “I’ll think about it,” I tell him, giving him a light smile. “I’m definitely not as averse to it as I thought I would be.” But I don’t tell him I’m still scared about the ties that are binding us closer together. Smart guy that he is, I’m sure he has that figured out already.

Chapter 19

Lucas My mom nudges me in the shoulder and I twist my neck to look over at her. She’s a good foot shorter than I am, but her personality is a million times bigger. Any stranger looking at her would never guess she’s old enough to have a kid my age. Her hair is blond and wavy, and she wears it in a sassy bob that hangs just below her jaw. While her kids inherited our brown hair from our father, we got our hazel eyes from our mom, and right now hers are filled with curiosity. “Want to take a walk with me?” she asks with a look that says this isn’t a request but I’ll be polite and ask anyway. I loop my arm around her neck, pull her in for a quick kiss to the top of her head, and say, “Sure.” I knew she’d want to talk privately to me at some point. She and my father flew in late last night.

Max and Jules picked them up at the airport since Mom and Dad are staying at their house for a few days. I left Stephanie’s apartment early this morning to have a family breakfast with everyone, which I knew would include our parents having personal talks with Simone and me to get a grasp on the new changes in both of our lives. Dad is with Simone now— because she’s a daddy’s girl—and I knew it was only a matter of time before Mom made her move on me. Jules is cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast and Max is watching TV with the kids. Stephanie is going to meet us all for a late lunch so I can introduce her to my parents, then everyone’s going to the game tonight. It’s game five in this series against Florida and I fully expect us to put it away tonight. “Let’s walk down to the lake,” I suggest as I release my mom and take her hand. Max and Jules’s property abuts a small lake. It’s more decorative than functional because of its size, but it’s pretty to look at. It’s a beautiful late-April day and warm enough that we don’t need jackets. When we reach the edge of the lake, we take seats on the outdoor furniture that’s set up around a fire pit. Mom curls her legs up under her and stares at me with bright eyes. “So…

how ready are you really to be a dad?” “Not ready at all,” I tell her with a laugh. “But I will be by the time the baby’s born.” “Big change for you,” she muses with a serene smile. “I always wanted my kids to have babies, but I never thought you’d be the first.” “I never thought I’d be the first either, but shit happens, right?” I tell her with a grin. She wrinkles her nose over my curse word. She’s a public-speaking coach and thinks cursing in any form is crass. Unfortunately, with three boys, she’s had to adapt to us. “Tell me truthfully,” she begins in a sober voice. “What are the issues you’re going to be facing?” “Issues?” I inquire evasively. I knew Mom would poke and prod at me, but I wasn’t going to make it easy on her. I like making her work at her job as a wonderfully involved parent. She rolls her eyes at me, another trait that lends to her youthful nature, because it’s a little immature. I grin at her and she glares at me. “Spill it, Lucas. This was an unplanned pregnancy. While I know you’re a family man at heart, I also know this wasn’t what you wanted at this time in your life. I want to help you deal, so tell me…what are the issues you’re facing?”

I contain my fond smile because she amuses me, and give her a little. “Well, the pregnancy seems to be going—” “Not the pregnancy,” my mom interrupts me, and my eyes widen at the iron in her voice. “I want to know about you. How are you doing with all of this, and don’t think to lie to me.” “You act as if this is ruining my life,” I say defensively over her mama-bear claws that came out. She shakes her head, those blond curls swinging. “A baby would never ruin anything. But I also know this wasn’t in your immediate plan. This is a disruption to your life, and more importantly, you’re not doing this in the traditional sense.” “Traditional sense?” “Lucas,” my mom reprimands me. “Don’t play stupid. You’re young and you’re enjoying the single life. I know you, middle son. Max is the one who was always the old soul and I knew he’d settle down fast. Malik is going to be on an adventure his entire life and probably will never settle down with someone. But you’re a combo of the two. You take great advantage of your youth and you’re on a mission to squeeze every drop of fun and

vitality out of your life before you do settle down. You weren’t done squeezing, Lucas, and you’re moving on to settling down not through a choice of your own, but by an accident. You were not ready for this, so I want to know how you’re doing.” My mouth hangs open in surprise over how astute and incredibly silly my mother is. “All I can envision is me standing at a sink squeezing juice from grapes or something in my mouth.” “Lucas,” she snaps at me, but her lips are curved in annoyed amusement. “Talk to me.” Still smiling at her, I settle back in my chair and prop an ankle on my knee. “You’re right. I wasn’t ready for this. Or at least I didn’t think I was, but Mom, there’s a tiny little thing growing inside Stephanie that’s partly me, and it’s weird and amazing at the same time. I may have been enjoying the single life, but it’s not the only thing that can make me happy.” My mother nods in understanding. She raised us well and she never doubted that any of her boys would ever shirk responsibility, but she’s still not satisfied. “Are you happy?” I tilt my head at her, finally seeing the true worry hidden in her green-brown eyes. “Of course, I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?” “Because I know you and you’re a

traditional type of guy,” she says softly, and I feel the first stirrings of her doubt in Stephanie. “For all your wild ways, you’re still the guy that believes in true love and will get down on bended knee to make a woman his. And you’re a family man. You want to be actively involved and you want to share love. I don’t know Stephanie. Haven’t met her yet. But I’ve learned enough so far to know that what you two have is not traditional in any sense. The way things have happened to you and the current journey you are on is not how you’d planned it.” “True,” I say without hesitation, even though her words have shaken the ground under my feet. “But I can adapt.” “Sure you can,” she returns with a breezy wave of her hand. “But as your mother, I only want the best for you. I don’t want you to have to adapt. I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of, and if you can’t have it, I want to help you be at peace with it.” Fuck…there’s a lump in my throat now and I’m not sure I can even respond to her. She just stares at me with those eyes that have always made me want to curl up in her lap, and I don’t like this feeling. I’m not a little boy but a man, and I can handle these things.

I think. I swallow through a parched throat and cough slightly. “It’s not how I envisioned my life going, but it’s also not bad either. Stephanie is great and she’s letting me be involved. Letting our whole family be involved.” “And what exactly is your relationship with her?” she asks bluntly. I want to tell her to mind her own business, but that won’t fly with her. “We’re friends,” I say slowly, making sure I’m giving it to my mom exactly how it is so she doesn’t get grandiose ideas. “And we’re more.” “You called it ‘casually complicated’ in one of our conversations,” she reminds me, and that’s was true at one point, but the casual nature of our relationship is totally in question. “Very complicated,” I sigh roughly. “Stephanie is…well, she’s amazing. Beautiful, smart, funny, outgoing.” “But—” “But she’s also closed off, and with good reason. She didn’t have a good upbringing. She was severely neglected, and so she’s the type of woman who just sort of depends on herself for

things.” My mom’s eyes are now worried, and that wasn’t my intent, so I rush to try to reassure her. “She’s going to make a fantastic mother. I don’t want you to worry about that because I don’t. It’s her first chance at true love…that baby. She won’t waste it.” “What about you?” she asks softly. “That’s something even I don’t know the answer to,” I admit glumly. “We’re friends. Sometimes I think we’re close and she shares stuff little by little. Other times, she keeps me at a distance and doesn’t want me to help her. She’s hot and cold, and it’s confusing, but I also understand it. She’s never had a relationship before, so it’s hard for her.” “You’ve never had a close relationship before either,” my mom points out. “You’re a serial dater.” “Yes, that’s true. But the difference is I had amazing role models in my parents. I may not have experienced a real relationship with commitment, trust, loyalty, and love, but I’ve watched you for twenty-seven years and I have a good idea of how it’s supposed to go. Stephanie has absolutely no frame of reference. Mom, when I tell you she was neglected, I don’t mean physically. She grew

up in a wealthy household, but her parents didn’t pay attention to her at all. She may have had gourmet food in her belly and designer clothes on her back, but she has no concept of that original type of love we’re supposed to learn from our parents.” “That’s terrible,” my mom whispers, and I can see tears of empathy for Stephanie welling. “I just want you not to be upset if she’s not overly warm,” I explain to her. “Don’t pressure her on things, and try not to go overboard with your involvement in the pregnancy. Let her reach out to you for what she needs, which probably will not be at all.” “I hate this for you,” my mom murmurs. “Just hate it. It’s not how I wanted your role as a parent to be. I wanted you to have love along with it.” Pushing up out of my chair, I go to my mom and squat down before her chair. I put my hands on her knees and give her a reassuring smile. “I want something more with Stephanie and I’m going to try to get it. But it’s going to be a slow process, and I’m a patient man. I want you to be patient too, and it will all work out the way it’s supposed to, and I’ll know that I’ve done everything in my power to make it

happen.” My mom gives me a misty-eyed smile and puts her fingers in my hair brush to it off my forehead. Her eyes roam over my face. “How did you get to be so wise? You’re making my job obsolete.” Laughing, I tell her, “I had good instructors. You and Dad are pretty fantastic at your parental jobs.” “Okay,” she says as she pulls her hand away from me. “I’m going to sit back and let you run this show, as long as you promise me that you’ll be careful not to get hurt.” “I promise,” I say without hesitation, but only so she’s assured. There’s a real chance I’m going to get hurt if Stephanie can’t let her walls down completely, but my mom doesn’t need to be burdened with that. “Let’s go back inside,” I say as I stand up and hold my hand out to her. “Stephanie will be here soon.” My mom lets me pull her up from the chair and we start walking back up to the house. “So we’re done talking about this, huh?” “For now,” I tell her as I squeeze her hand. “What should we talk about then?” she quips.

“Let’s talk about how bad your daughter is,” I return evilly, knowing the best way to get heat off me is to throw it onto Simone, and I don’t feel guilty in the slightest. Mom grimaces and groans, “That girl. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her.” “Well, you can’t kill her,” I tell her seriously. “Max, Malik, and I won’t let that happen.” “Oh hush,” she chastises with a light slap to my stomach. I do a pretend “ooph” like it hurt. “Your father and I aren’t going to kill her, but we are going to make her pay. Oh, how we’re going to make her pay.” “She’ll be in debt to you forever,” I say with a laugh. “Yup,” she agrees. “Unless she goes back to finish her degree.” “I think she will.” My mom comes to a halt and turns to me with hopeful eyes. “Has she told you that?” I shake my head. “But Simone is a bright girl. Smartest out of all your kids, truthfully. She’s just flexing her muscles a little bit and figuring out her life. Maybe even rebelling a little. But I’d lay money on the fact she’ll go back at some point.” “God, I hope so,” my mom says wistfully.

“We don’t care if she doesn’t want to go to medical school, but she’s so close to that bachelor’s degree. It would be such a waste.” “Agreed, and Simone knows that too,” I assure her. “My advice is to let it play out and don’t pressure her. She’ll figure it all out eventually.” “I’m not sure what to make out of this mature, wiser Lucas Fournier,” my mom teases as we walk up the staircase to the back deck. “You’re just so damn self-assured about everything that I’m feeling useless.” “Never,” I say with a laugh. “Just wait until I’m up to my elbows in baby shit and puke. I’ll be in full-blown panic mode.” “I cannot wait to see that,” my mom says with a laugh as we hit the top of the deck. I smile but don’t say anything. I can’t wait to see it either.

Chapter 20

Stephanie “Come on, ref,” Simone yells at the top of her lungs as she bangs her fists on the glass. “Open your eyes, you moron. That was hooking.” I snicker along with Jules, who’s sitting beside me as the Cold Fury whiz down the ice on a power play. My eyes focus across the ice to the players’ bench and I take a peek at Lucas. He just came off his shift and is sitting forward with one hand on the board, watching the game intently. It’s such a thrill watching him play. Knowing that this gorgeous, smart, and caring guy who happens to be an accomplished professional hockey player wants me. It’s even hotter how much he wants this baby growing in my belly. I turn my head and look down the row. Next to me is Jules, then Simone’s seat, followed by her mom and dad. We all rode here together to watch game five against Florida, after we spent a nice time talking over hamburgers and

hot dogs Max grilled. The kids are being watched by the neighbor and were sorely disappointed they couldn’t come. Max promised them tickets for the next home game, though, and they were semisatisfied. The dinner was low pressure, and Luc’s parents are very sweet and totally over the moon about the baby. I know his mother was reining in her enthusiasm, because several times she’d start to gush about baby clothes, or a book on how to breast feed, but one look from Lucas and she shut it down. She’s just bursting apart ready to be a grandma, and while I find it sweet, it’s also completely foreign. In a fascinating way, that is. There is no doubt I want Lucas and his family to have a relationship with this child, but I’ll have to admit, it’s hard sharing this experience because I’m so used to doing everything on my own. Still, his entire family is as easy to like as Luc is, and while I might have difficulty sharing, I’m going to try, because Luc has shown me I can let people close to me without being disappointed. Plus, he’s almost convinced me that I’m actually likable. That I’m worthy. That’s saying a lot coming from me, as I’ve

been made to feel unworthy pretty much my entire life, and if that doesn’t fuck with someone’s sense of value, I don’t know what will. “Simone, sit down for God’s sake,” Marilyn says in exasperation as she tugs at the bottom of Simone’s jersey. She’s wearing Lucas’s jersey tonight, as am I. Jules is obviously wearing Max’s jersey, and her parents split their loyalties between the kids. Marilyn’s wearing Max’s and Laurence has on Lucas’s. Simone turns to her mom in a huff and complains, “Those refs are making some bad calls.” Her mom laughs. “And what do you want me to do about it?” “Get up here and yell with me,” Simone demands, and to my surprise—and delight— Marilyn pops out of her seat and starts banging on the glass next to Simone. There’s only less than a minute left in the first period, but that doesn’t curb their enthusiasm. “She’s great, isn’t she?” Jules says with a nudge of her shoulder against mine. I move my gaze from the glass to Jules. “Yeah…really nice and down to earth.” “It took awhile for me to get used to how close they all were,” she continues. “I never

had that growing up. Mom died when I was young, and Dad was a long-distance truck driver who was never around. My older sister took care of me, but she died too. It was hard learning how to accept people worrying about you.” Her words are pointed, and I know directed solely at me, not a reflection of her life. And while I appreciate what she’s trying to do, I don’t forget that we are still apples and oranges. Lucas filled me in on Jules and how she met Max, and while her life was missing parental guidance like mine, she had something I didn’t, and that was love. At least her dad loved her, and she had a sister who loved her a lot. Now she has Max and his family, and I watched them at lunch today. She may not be married into the family yet, but they treat her as if she is, and that’s because Jules is open and accepting. She knows how to accept kindness and care. She treats concern as a gift to be cherished, while I am suspicious of it. I swear to God I’m really trying to learn from her and Luc and everyone, really, but it’s hard to let go of twenty-eight years of being conditioned that I’m not worthy of love and care. I’m guessing Lucas filled his parents in about some of my insecurities, because they’ve

been treating me with kid gloves, which I do appreciate. But I really hope they have the same patience with me that Luc does, because I don’t want to alienate them. I know his allegiance will be to them, as it should be, and I don’t want to lose him if I were to push them away. “It’s hard letting people in, but I’m trying my hardest,” I painfully admit to Jules. “I want this to be easy on everyone, but I am way out of my element here.” “Want my opinion?” she asks me hesitantly, and I’m nodding at her before she even finishes her words. I’ll take any advice that I can to make things work for everyone involved. “You protect yourself so tightly against getting hurt you could miss something really amazing, and the really something amazing I’m talking about is Luc. You’re going to have a baby, and you’re going to have the emotional support of the entire Fournier family regardless of what happens between you and Luc. But you stand to lose him if you can’t take a little bit of a risk with your heart.” My stomach cramps from her words and I whisper to her, “I know.” I know very well that my inability to fully open up could cost me probably the most

important person I’ve ever had in my life. There was a time my freshman year of college when I was really struggling. Despite having no relationship with my parents for eighteen years, I was floundering that first year away from them as an adult. Although the net of being under their care as a minor was filled with holes, it was a safety net at least. I was overwhelmed with all sorts of doubts and insecurities that first year away from home, and I went to see one of the campus counselors. It didn’t take long for me to figure out through some soul-baring sessions that I felt entirely unlovable. That there was something so awful about me that I couldn’t even entice my parents to love their child, that I knew I was destined to be alone forever. That was a tremendously formative year for me, because it was where I realized that I was going to make my way through life alone. I knew deep in my heart that no one could ever truly care for someone as unworthy as me, so I wasn’t ever going to put myself in a position for someone to thoroughly reject me the way my parents had. Of course, that counselor tried his damndest to get me to see my reasoning was flawed. And the smart and practical part of me could

understand why I was the way I was. I’d read enough to know that what my parents did to me was devastating to my emotional growth and development. I was reasonable enough to know that I was really, really fucked up and broken. It never really daunted me. Didn’t sadden me. It was what it was and I adapted. I became strong. I relied on the one person I knew could never let me down, and that was me. That’s just the way my life was until Lucas Fournier came along. And now my entire foundation has been shaken to the core, and I don’t know who I am anymore. One thing I do know is that I’ve let him in further than I thought was even possible, and if I lose what we have, I know it would be a devastation that would cut away a part of my soul that he’s had a huge role in healing. And yet that still doesn’t overcome my fear of being hurt even worse if he were to abandon me at some point. While I know it’s wrong, my psyche tells me to push him away before I can get hurt, and yet I don’t want to lose him at all. I am so fucked up in the head over this, I wonder if perhaps there comes a point where a person is so broken they can’t ever be glued back together again.

The buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the first period, and Jules stares at me just a moment more before she stands up. “I’m going to go get something to eat. Coming?” I shake my head, feeling slightly morose. “I’m good.” “Okay,” she says with a soft smile, and makes her way out of the front row. I look out to the ice and see the last of the players skating off, but I can’t see Lucas. I wonder if he looked over this way and saw Jules and me talking. I wonder if he even knows the depths of my confusion over everything. I suspect he does because he handles me with so much patience and grace. “That was an intense period, huh?” I hear as Lucas’s dad plops down beside me. I look past his shoulder and see that Marilyn, Simone, and Jules have all left. The score is zero to zero and the Florida Spartans are scrapping for their lives because a loss will end their play-off run. It’s been a brutal game, with both teams giving more than their all to try to score. “Sure is,” I say with a glance up at the scoreboard before I look back to him. It’s clear his boys got his height and brawn in addition to his hair color. For such a big

man, Laurence’s French Canadian accent is lilting, although his voice is baritone deep. While we talked today at lunch—I found him to be an easy, laid-back guy—we didn’t say more than a handful of words directly to each other. I learned very quickly that the Fournier family is a noisy, boisterous group that loves to tell stories, joke, and tease each other. They’re also a visibly affectionate family, which is both fascinating and awkward for me to watch. This afternoon I was practically swooning as Lucas came up behind Simone as she was telling Jules a story about some party at college. He just put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed once while he listened to his sister. She brought one hand up to lay on top of one of his hands, and I marveled at such easy affection between them. I tried to imagine maybe my father doing that to me, and I actually got the willies as a shiver ran up my spine. That would be totally awkward and completely unwelcome. But what about Lucas? What would I do if he did that to me? Without a doubt, I’d lean back into him, seeking closer contact. God, I’m so fucked in the head. “We really didn’t get a chance to talk,”

Laurence continues with a hesitant smile. “As you may have noticed, I’m the quiet one in this family.” Chuckling, I nod my head. “Yeah, I noticed that.” Marilyn and her children are full of energy and spirit. They’re constantly moving and talking and joking. Laurence is like the quiet, wise owl who just observes and enjoys. “Well, since I’m the doctor in the family, I’m going to ask what Marilyn was too polite to,” he says with a kindly smile. “How are you feeling? Is the pregnancy going okay?” This is sweet and it’s a professional question, so I don’t hesitate in answering. “It’s going well. The worst has been the morning sickness, and I had a little bit of spotting once, but that hasn’t happened again.” “How’s your energy?” he asks. “I’m tired for sure,” I tell him with a sigh. “Sometimes it feels like the baby is sucking the life force out of me.” Laurence chuckles and nods. “Marilyn was like that. You see how much energy my brood has. I think they were definitely sucking her life force as they were growing.” I laugh at the image and figure that perhaps the baby is already showing signs of his

Fournier DNA. “This has nothing at all to do with the fact I’m a doctor, and is one hundred percent me being a father,” he says, and I tense up. The fact he had to qualify his next words put me on edge, but I try to maintain a polite, open look on my face. “Marilyn would normally be the one to say these things to you, but I also know that Lucas gave her strict instructions not to put any pressure on you. But my boy didn’t put those restrictions on me, probably because he never in a million years thought I’d do this.” My anxiety skyrockets and I dig my fingers down into the armrest of my chair while my eyes stay locked on his. He moves his hand and pats mine kindly. “I know you’re scared, Stephanie, and we have all the empathy in the world for you. But my son is crazy about you. I don’t know if he’s admitted it or not, but I can tell just by the way he looks at you and the way he talks about you that you mean more to him that just friends.” There’s a rolling sensation in my stomach and I feel dizzy over these truths I’d long suspected. “My son…hell, all my kids…with them it’s all or nothing,” Laurence explains. I don’t say anything and I can’t break away

from his soft, knowing gaze. “Lucas,” he says pointedly, “is an all-ornothing type of guy. I know what you two have going on is working for you right now, but Lucas has dreams. And he’s not the type to be satisfied with anything less than full realization of a dream.” “All or nothing,” I whisper, understanding the words he originally said. Laurence nods and pats my hand again. “Like I said, it’s clearly working right now what you have going on, but eventually he’s going to want more. If you don’t give it your all, he’s going to get hurt.” “You have to know I don’t want to hurt him,” I say, feeling obligated to defend myself. “I do care for him a great deal.” Lucas’s dad nods. “I know that, and today I saw that as clearly as I saw how Lucas cares for you. I’m just saying that may not be enough one day.” “I’m not sure what my capabilities are,” I tell him truthfully, and the words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Still, I tell him an embarrassing truth I’d never admit to a stranger, but this is Lucas we’re talking about, and I know I don’t want to lose him. “I’m…I’ve got…I don’t think I’m worthy of someone as

great as Lucas, and as such, I think I tend to sabotage myself.” “I can understand that,” he says wisely. “I want to be what he needs,” I tell him. I so want that, but I don’t know how. “I’m not saying you have to give him something you’re not capable of,” Laurence clarifies with a pointed look. “I’m just saying that what you do have, you have to give fully. If you want something with him, you have to put down all your defenses and just try with all your might to make it work. As long as you do that, any failure would be understandable. It would still hurt, but at least Lucas would understand.” Blowing out a deep breath, I look out to the ice and mutter, “Didn’t expect to have that deep of a conversation with you.” Laurence laughs and leans back in the chair. “Don’t worry. My entire family underestimates my ability to meddle in my kids’ lives. But I’m cool with keeping this secret if you are.” Chuckling, I twist my neck to look at him again. “I’ll keep your secret so you can maintain your rep with the family.” “You’re a sweet girl, Stephanie,” Laurence says gently. “I think Lucas stumbled on to someone really great when he met you.”

This surprises me after the very nice but clear warning he just gave me to try not to hurt his son. He sees my surprise and addresses it. “Stephanie, just because I think you have the potential to hurt my son doesn’t mean I don’t like you. And just because you have the potential to hurt my son doesn’t mean you’re not good for him.” “Will you say that if I do indeed hurt him?” I say in a low, ashamed voice. Laurence again surprises me when he nods. “Yes, I’ll still say that. As long as you give it your all so there are no regrets.” “You realize you’re taking pressure off me,” I say in a somewhat dry voice. “You’re pregnant with my grandchild,” he says with an acknowledging tilt to my head. “I don’t want you to be under stress.” We stare at each other a moment, and then in a rare act of spontaneous affection, I take Laurence’s hand and give it a grateful squeeze. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Your family is amazing and I’m lucky to know you.” Laurence squeezes my hand back and then pushes his long frame out of the chair. He looks down at me with a smile. “Just so you know, we’ve all been on our best behavior around you. You really haven’t seen our ‘crazy’

yet.” I giggle, shaking my head. He gives me a wink and then starts making his way out of the row. Turning back, I look out over the ice and contemplate my relationship with Lucas and how I can achieve the impossible. Opening myself up to love.

Chapter 21

Lucas Stephanie opens her apartment door and I give her a quick, hard kiss as I drop my overnight bag on the floor. When I pull away, I clap my hands and rub them together. “Just dropped my parents at the airport, left behind a squabbling Simone and Van to kill each other, and you and I have four days together where the only obligation I have is practice for a few hours each day. I’m so fucking excited I don’t know what to do first.” She smiles at me and digs her fingers into the waistband of my jeans. Her voice is husky as she looks up at me. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to entertain ourselves.” “Damn skippy,” I tell her as I wrap my arms around her back. “You’re going to be walking funny by the time I’m done with you.” Four days where I can lie around and do nothing but fuck Stephanie. Since we took the Florida Spartans in five games and our next

round doesn’t start until Saturday, that’s four days of little to no obligations except for some practices to keep the gears functioning. While I’ve adored having my family here for the last three days, I was eager to pack them off because that meant three days where I didn’t see Stephanie, since I was trying to spend my time with them while they were in town. Stephanie did come to the play-off game as well as hung out at Max’s house for the celebration that came after taking the first round of the play-offs. But after that, she stayed away at her insistence so I could have time with my family. I was torn because I wanted to see her and I wanted to see my family, and I was slightly pissed I couldn’t have both. Pisses me off even more how much I missed her. “How are you feeling?” I ask, moving a hand to her belly. “Nausea’s almost all gone. Didn’t even barf today, just a slight rolling stomach. My boobs are really getting sore, though. You’re going to need to leave them alone until that passes.” “Well, that fucking sucks,” I say with mock annoyance, but then I let her go, spinning to my duffel. “I got you something, though, that will make things a lot easier for you.”

“What’s that?” she asks curiously. I take a folder out of my bag and walk into the kitchen. Stephanie follows and I throw it onto the table and smile down at her smugly. She bends over and reads the wording on the front out loud. “ ‘Pregnancy Activity Planner.’ ” I smile even bigger. “You got me an activity planner?” she asks dryly. “Yeah, it’s awesome,” I say, still very pleased with myself. I open it up and start flipping through the pages. “See…you can track all of your physical activity so we can make sure you and the baby are staying fit, and there’s a section on tracking your nutrients and even a little journal where you can commemorate all of your symptoms. Oh, and I even added some really cool healthy shake recipes I printed out. You like kale, right?” “Yeah,” she drawls out as she looks to me with big eyes. My smile gets bigger. “Not so much.” “What?” I ask as my smile wavers. “You don’t like kale?” “I don’t like any of what you just said,” she says softly…kindly, but very firmly.

My smile dies a quick death. “Why not?” Stephanie shrugs and gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-yourpants kind of girl.” “But you know that physical fitness and good nutrition are important,” I remind her, and fuck, I sound like my mom. Narrowing her eyes at me, she says, “You know…it’s almost as if you’re saying you don’t trust me to do right by this child.” “I’m not saying that. I’m just trying to give you some supportive tools.” “Well, I don’t need them,” she snaps at me. Before I can even think to get pissed off by her attitude, she immediately bursts into tears. Big, fat droplets spill over her bottom lashes and slide down her cheeks. She stares at me in abject misery, and a searing sensation punches through me along with a moment of hopelessness. But then I get my shit together and kick it into gear. I’m pulling her into my arms, one hand behind her head to press it into my chest. The other arm goes around her back and I rock her back and forth while she sobs onto my T-shirt, soaking the material within seconds. “Get it out, baby,” I whisper to her, and

resist the urge to sing her a lullaby. Whatever has made her sad, whatever has made these tears, I want to fix it. “Whatever it is, I’ll help you get through it.” I’m totally stunned when Stephanie rips free of my hold with a pained sound of frustration. “Stop trying to fix things, Lucas,” she says in a quavering voice as she furiously wipes at the tears in her eyes. “I’m not—” I start to say. “You are,” she cuts in, her voice imploring me to listen to her as if perhaps I’ve not really listened before. “You’re offering money, and health insurance, and kale shakes, and a freaking awesome family I could be a part of, and I can’t take it anymore.” “What?” I say in confusion, but she keeps right on going. “You’re so damn sweet and ask me every day about my nausea,” she says on a short sob before hiccupping. “You make sure I’m fed and taking my vitamins, and for fuck’s sake… you even did my laundry last week so I didn’t have to lift the baskets.” “I was just—” “And the shitty part is, any girl would die for that kind of care. You’re looking at me right now, wondering how you can make things

better for me. You’re doing exactly what a dream guy should do, and I can’t handle it, because there’s something broken inside of me that won’t let me appreciate this.” She continues crying, tears pouring down her face, and yet I’m afraid to make a move to hold her. So I keep my distance and tread very cautiously. “I’m just trying to help you. I don’t know why that’s a bad thing.” A bitter, hoarse laugh tears free of Stephanie. “You can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped.” “Sounds like a cop-out,” I murmur. This doesn’t offend her, but it does inspire her to share. “My mom called me the day I got let go from the museum. Want to know why she called?” Fuck no, I don’t want to know that shit. By the tone of her voice, I’m terrified to know. “She thought I should have an abortion,” she says with pain-filled eyes. “What?” I say in confusion, not even willing to believe a parent could say something so callous. “She thought I should have an abortion,” she reiterates. “Her words were something along the lines of me not being able to really care for a child, and she had some legitimate points.

Job instability, no direction in life, blah-blahblah.” I swallow hard, watching Stephanie’s spirit start to wither away in front of me. “You know what I really heard, though?” she asks me in a choked voice. “I heard that I wasn’t good enough to have a baby. I wasn’t worthy of you and your family. I heard that I was so unlovable I shouldn’t ever try to aspire for anything more because it would be pointless.” “Jesus fuck,” I hiss out, shaking my head in absolute denial. “Fuck no, Stephanie. Just no. That is not what she meant.” “To me it is,” she whispers sadly. “Don’t you get it? I have a filter on my perception and it taints everything. There is no clarity for me. It’s all a jumbled mess of confusion, and the only thing I know with any measure of certainty is that I can lead a solid life by myself. It’s not too happy, but it’s definitely not too painful. It’s self-preservation, and I know I’m good at that.” I just stare at her, unable to even form words. This obviously goes deeper than I thought or could comprehend. Stephanie takes a deep breath in, dabs at her tears again, and exhales. “Lucas…for a person

who’s never had care and support, it can feel smothering to me. For a person who’s never had to ask for help, it makes me feel guilty when I get it. And yet you’re the one person in my life that I’ve ever considered taking a very scary risk and opening myself up to. But I’m finding that it might be more than I can truly accomplish. I’m a complete garbled mess of emotions, trying to deal with the loss of a job, an unplanned pregnancy, and a wonderful guy who I can’t let in all the way, and frankly…I think I’m a complete failure at all of it.” “You’re not. We can work through this. I swear you can do this, Stephy.” But my words sound hollow in the face of what she’s saying. “No,” she says, shaking her head so hard in denial her hair flies around her face. “How can we work it out when I was so happy to see you when you got here and in a matter of minutes, you’re suddenly overwhelming me? I can’t do it, Lucas. Don’t you see…I’m not built for this.” Suddenly I’m tired of hearing about her weaknesses. She’s made so much progress over the weeks, and she’s letting it all just go on what seems to me to be a whim. “Bullshit,” I yell at her, and her mouth snaps shut as her eyes go wide. “I’ve never met anyone more built to have a relationship…to

fall in love. But you’re so wrapped up in how bad your life was and spending so much time fortifying your fucking walls you’re forgetting to remember that doesn’t define who you really are if you don’t want it to. And don’t you dare tell me you don’t have the capacity to feel, because I see it in your eyes every time you talk about our baby. You have plenty of feeling inside of you.” She just stares at me, soaking in my words, so I don’t let up. If she wants to have frank words, it’s now or never. “I’m falling for you hard, Stephanie,” I tell her softly. “I was a fool to ever think this could stay casual…not when you’re carrying my child and not when you’re calling out my name when you orgasm. And I’m sorry, since it seems we’re laying this all out on the table, I’m just going to go ahead and say it…I want everything from you.” “Everything?” she rasps out, panic gripping her expression. “Everything,” I growl out to her, and I fucking go for broke. “I want love. I want marriage. I want a family with three kids. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I want us to take a station wagon to Yellowstone with our

kids, and I want you at all my games cheering me on. I want an entire life with you, and eternity beyond that as well. I want it all, Stephanie. I’ve always wanted all of that, but I know I want it with only you.” “Oh God,” she wheezes with her hand against her chest. She stumbles backward and sits down on the arm of the couch, her eyes staring blankly at the carpet. I wait for her to say something. To look at me. Fuck…anything other than this silence that’s actually so loud it hurts my ears. “Is that all you have to say?” I ask her quietly. “Oh God?” Her eyes come to mine, swimming with fresh tears. “I had a nice talk with your dad during the game a few days ago.” This, I wasn’t expecting and I blink in surprise. “He told me something I really already knew deep down,” she murmurs. “And that’s you’re a man who is all or nothing. When you choose to do something, your heart and soul are behind it.” “That’s right,” I admit hesitantly. “You see,” she says in a small voice filled with misery. “A man like that, well, he needs the same in return. He needs a woman who

gives it her all and is willing to expose her heart and soul to do so.” She lets the words hang heavy in the air, and no amount of wishful thinking will turn them into something else. She doesn’t respond to those things I laid at her feet with great sanctity such as love, marriage, kids, and a happily ever after. She says nothing more, and that says it all. “I don’t understand how having someone love and care for you can be so bad,” I say, almost pleading with her to give me an answer to make this all better. Her voice is flat and devoid of emotion. She gives me a robotic answer. A bullshit answer that she’s told herself so much it comes out rehearsed and disingenuous. “Although it wasn’t by my choice originally, there’s a benefit to being alone. You can avoid the risk of pain, because by being alone, you are guaranteed no one can hurt you.” I know I’m a shit when I say it, but I can’t help it. She’s punking out on me and giving up before she ever really even tried. “Is that what you’re going to teach our child?” I ask her in an icy voice. “You going to teach that baby to put walls up and close itself off from others?”

Stephanie’s face turns horror stricken. “God, no,” she gasps. “How could you even think that?” “Because you’re fucking quoting that shit as your own personal doctrine to live by,” I snarl at her. “Because that’s all you know, and you’re too fucking scared to try for something better.” And that’s the moment that I killed whatever chance I had with Stephanie, and I know that because her eyes go dead. Her voice is whisper soft but utterly fucking dead. “I’m sorry,” is all she gives me. Our eyes are locked on each other, both of us battling to achieve things that aren’t acceptable to the other. Neither one of us able to fix what’s now broken. “Where does that leave us?” I ask slowly. After taking a deep, stuttering breath, she says, “I think I need some space.” “I need you to be a little more specific than that,” I grit out, my anger starting to surge again because I’m now feeling utterly fucking powerless. “I think for right now we just need to concentrate on this pregnancy and figuring out how to be parents,” she replies vaguely. “So you want to just be friends again?”

“Yes,” she whispers, and I see something flicker back to life in her eyes. Is that hope? “I don’t think I can do that, Stephy,” I tell her firmly, perhaps hoping to push her into taking a chance to still move forward. “I don’t think I can go backward, and besides, that’s how the lines got blurred in the first place.” Fear flashes in her eyes before they go flat and devoid of anything again, and I know that was the wrong thing to say. “I know you care for me,” I tell her harshly, my anger rising again. “You’re just too weak to admit it.” She doesn’t respond, just stares at me with those dead eyes. I wonder if that’s how she looked at her parents, and I hate myself and them for causing that, but I also think I hate Stephanie just a little bit for not being strong enough to risk it. “Can you really just turn your feelings off like that?” I spit out at her, hoping to force some type of reaction. And I get one. It’s a sardonic smile, and her eyes are now filled with pain and regret. “Don’t you get it, Luc? I don’t have feelings. Not the kind that would sustain what you need. It’s what I am.

Who I am.” Fury rolls through me in blistering waves because she’s a fucking liar and a monster for even throwing that out at me. I know I’ll regret the words, but I need to hurt her as much as she’s hurt me. “I feel sorry for you, Steph. And I feel sorry for our kid. I sure hope to shit you learn how to really love before that baby comes along, or you’re going to fuck up its life the way your parents fucked up yours.” I spin from her, not wanting to see how hard that last barb hit her and already reeling from the guilt of those nasty, slicing words. But I’ll get over it. She’ll get over it. I pick up my duffel bag and sling it over my shoulder. As I open the door and step through, I call out over my shoulder, “I’ll see you at the next doctor’s appointment if I’m in town. If not, email me how it went.” Pulling the door shut behind me, I leave Stephanie and her crazy, fucked-up head behind. I don’t need that shit.

Chapter 22

Stephanie My hands are sweating from nervousness, but I know I can’t avoid this anymore. If I want to put my nonprofit idea into action, I need Jules’s help, as she’s my contact for a trial run at Sweetbrier. I’ve obviously been staying clear of anyone these last two weeks who could be remotely tied to Lucas, and Jules, as his future sister-in-law, is about as close as you can get to the man. But she’s actually been the one encouraging me to meet, telling me she’s as excited about this idea as I am. It got put on hold for a while because, well, I was dealing with this big nasty breakup. For all my talk about keeping this casual and not entering into a relationship, there is no doubt in my mind that I was heavily involved in a deep and meaningful relationship with Luc, because otherwise, it wouldn’t be hurting this fucking much not having him.

For all of my grandiose ideas of pushing him away so I couldn’t get hurt, I ended up getting fucking crushed by the pain of losing him. Lucas put everything out on the table. He put his heart at risk without even blinking those gorgeous eyes. He dangled love and marriage in front of me like a worm on a hook, and I was too goddamned scared to take the bait. Within twenty-four hours of Luc leaving my apartment after telling me I was essentially going to fuck our child up, I got a voice mail from Jules. It was short and kind and she offered to talk when and if I was ever ready. I ignored it for a few days before I reached out to her, letting her know I appreciated her concern but I was fine. She didn’t buy it. She prodded me gently through text exchanges, but mostly she was inquisitive about how I’d been doing with the pregnancy, and I didn’t hold back on that. I assumed she’d pass the info on to Lucas for me. He has the right to know, even if he’s not bothered to reach out to me once in the past two weeks to see how I’m doing. He went from caring and vigilant to frustrated to infuriated to nothing.

Absolutely nothing at all. I have to shake my head clear of those thoughts because they’ll drag me down into misery, and I’ll be damned if I want to suffer another crying spell filled with regret. Opening the door to the restaurant, I immediately spot Jules waiting for me near the hostess podium. She quickly rakes her eyes over me as if she’s trying to determine how I’m feeling. She beams a smile at me as she walks my way, opening her arms for a hug. This has always been awkward to me, but for some reason, I easily accept her embrace. Maybe some of the ways I’d opened up over the last few months have stuck. Or maybe it’s just that I want to be close to Lucas and the only way is through Jules. Regardless, when she pulls back she holds my shoulders and looks down at my belly briefly before looking back up again. “You have a baby bump.” That breaks the ice right there and I laugh as I look down, running a hand over the slight swelling that’s easily discernable under the tight tank top I’d worn with a pair of stretchy jeans. “It’s about right on time, although truth be told, not sure if that’s the baby or the Cherry Garcia ice cream causing that.”

Jules laughs. “Who cares? It’s adorable.” Lucas would think so. He’d been waiting for that to happen. I push down the longing that creeps up and make my smile brighter. The hostess approaches us with menus and we break apart to follow her to our table. After we sit down and study our menus, we talk about Jules’s kids and how I’ve been feeling until the waitress takes our orders. “So when is your next appointment?” Jules asks after sipping her iced water. “Next Friday. I’ll be at thirteen weeks.” “Well, you look amazing. You’re glowing, actually,” she says with a wave of her hand in my direction. “I’ve heard pregnancy could do that to you.” “I actually feel pretty good,” I admit to her. “I kind of thought I’d be getting a beatdown, haggard-looking Stephanie who was completely depressed or something,” she says, and my jaw drops wide open. She did not just go there. But she watches me with the eyes of a hawk to gauge my reaction. I merely stiffen my backbone and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m doing wonderful.”

“Huh,” Jules grunts. “It’s just…Lucas isn’t—” “Don’t want to talk about him,” I say quickly as I hold my hand up. “You said you wanted to talk about Intergen so that’s why I’m here.” This throws Jules off. “Intergen?” “Yeah. Short for intergenerational activities. Cool, right?” “It’s horrid,” Jules says with a wrinkled nose. “Sounds like a pharmaceutical company or something. Or, wasn’t that the name of the company that manufactured the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park?” My brows pinch together. “Well, what should I call it?” “Something fun and cute,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe something like Tots to Pops or something.” “Seriously?” I ask with my own nose wrinkling. “That sounds like a convenience store name. Short for tater tots to soda pops.” Jules snickers and I can’t help it…I do too. “Listen,” Jules says soberly as she reaches across the table to take my hand. “I didn’t mean to hit you with your break-up with Lucas. I just want you to know that I can be objective and listen to your side of things. Lord knows I’ve heard his side.”

“He told you what happened?” I ask, aghast. Jules shakes her head. “He gave Max a brief overview, who then told me. No details, just that things were over between you two. But I’m here if you want to talk. If you don’t, let’s just talk about getting the kids and the old folks together, okay?” I hesitate before I answer. I’ve been dying of curiosity to know how Lucas has been doing. Just because I totally freaked out on him and we’re no longer together doesn’t mean I don’t still care for him. Hell, half the reason I pushed him away was trying to avoid hurting him even worse down the road. Granted, the other half was to avoid me getting hurt when he ultimately figured out that I wasn’t that much of a prize, but the point being, I just didn’t want anyone to hurt. I know the Cold Fury has been doing well in the play-offs. I’ve watched every game, glued to the screen and searching out Lucas. They just won the series against the Pittsburgh Titans and that went six games. The conference finals start next week and it seems like another Stanley Cup is within reach. Jules looks across the table at me with a reassuring smile. I know if I share, she’ll tell me about Lucas.

But do I really want to know more than Luc’s hockey stats? What if he’s moved on and already screwing other women? Let’s face it, that was how both of us operated when we were single. The thought of that makes my stomach pitch and I decide it’s best if I just stay in the dark. With a slight shake of my head, I mutter, “I’m fine, really. Let’s just talk about how to move this idea forward.” Jules looks slightly disappointed but she gives me a perky, “Sure. That will keep us plenty busy.” “Okay. So the original way this started was there are actual day cares that are located within nursing homes. Obviously, there are activities between the two. For the kids this helps to reduce anxiety as well as improve self-esteem and social development. They’ve found that for the elderly, playing with the kids obviously cuts down on the loneliness, but also can slow physical and mental decline.” Jules nods as she fiddles with her napkin. It feels good to get my mind off of the painful memories of Lucas and how much I miss him, so I forge ahead. “But you know I don’t want to open up a day care. I don’t really have any desire to run one,”

I reiterate as I pull a yellow pad out of my purse. I lay it on the table and snag a pen. “I thought instead I’d start a company that facilitates field trips from day care centers to nursing homes. I can do outreach and collect all of the places that are willing to participate, start a database, and then handle scheduling events. That would include transportation along with trained staff to help the interaction between the kids and the elderly, as well as providing the actual materials for activities they can do together. Games and arts and crafts and stuff like that.” Jules eyes sparkle with excitement. “I think it’s brilliant, and I think you’re right. You’d be hamstrung by opening an actual day care because it’s too much work and you wouldn’t be able to expand outward. You do realize you could take this far past a local level. If you’re really a facilitator, you could do this across the state. Hell, even nationwide.” “Or franchise it,” I tell her with a smug smile. I’ve been thinking big on this. “This could really be a money maker,” she gushes. I shake my head. “Nonprofit. All the way. But I’m sure we could get some funding or grants.”

“Would you be the director or something?” Jules asks. I shrug slightly. “Maybe. I guess it depends on what that would entail. I think I’d much rather do the hands-on activities and go into the nursing homes with the kids.” Jules is silent a moment as she watches me, but finally she says, “You’re really a pretty incredible person.” My head jerks back in surprise. “What? Why would you even say that?” Jules rolls her eyes at me. “Has no one ever told you that?” Pain lacerates through me. Lucas had told me that, and more than once. But instead of responding, I shake my head and redirect. “It’s a solid idea, and I’ve got some money that I can use to get it going. But I would like to start very small and work out all of the kinks first.” “Well, Annabelle’s day care is on board, as is Sweetbrier. All we have to do is pick a date and figure out what we’ll have them do together.” “I’ve been doing some research on that,” I tell her as I flip my pad around so she can read it. “I’ve actually called several of these day cares and gotten a lot of information.” “Wow,” Jules mutters, but before she can

start reading, the waitress returns with our meals. Jules ordered a Cobb salad and I ordered grilled chicken and some veggies. As much as I was offended by Lucas giving me a planner to monitor my health and nutrition, I’m not stupid and I do take good care of myself. I’ve even cut down the Cherry Garcia to once a week. We start our meals and Jules peruses my notes for a bit. “Are you sure you really want to help out on this?” I ask her dubiously. “I know you’re still working part time at Sweetbrier, and painting and raising three kids, so—” “Oh, I want to help,” Jules says quickly. “I’m only working about ten hours a week at Sweetbrier and the painting is just a hobby that earns me some extra money. Annabelle’s starting kindergarten in the fall, and I really want to stay busy, and frankly, this just really sounds like a lot of fun to do. “Okay then,” I say with a smile, then spear a piece of chicken. “If I help, though,” Jules says, and an ominous feeling slides over me from her tone of voice. “You have to know that you may run into Lucas at some point.” I lift an eyebrow and tilt my head at her in

question. “I’m just saying, Max will want to come and help, as it’s a brilliant idea, and that means Lucas might want to. I don’t know that for sure, but I guess I need to know if that will be a problem.” The thought of seeing Lucas sends a thrill through me, so I know I’m nowhere near over that man no matter how much I want to deny it. Still, my voice is level and nonchalant. “Of course, I don’t mind. I’m not mad at him, and I’d like to think he’s cool with me. Besides, we are still going through this pregnancy together.” Jules doesn’t say anything but just looks down to her salad to fork some lettuce. “He is going to stay involved in the pregnancy, right?” I ask, and the thought that he won’t sends me into a moment of panic. Jules’s head snaps up and her eyes soften with apology. “Yes. Of course. I mean I think so. He hasn’t given me any reason to think not.” “But you think there’s a possibility he won’t?” I push at her. “He’s not coming to your next visit,” Jules admits with worried eyes. “But in fairness, he will be traveling, as that falls right between

games three and four, which will be away.” I nod, because I knew this. Lucas may have been radio silent with me, but I did know his travel schedule and was dismayed that my fourteen-week visit would occur while he was gone. “Has he said anything, though,” I continue to pry. “Anything to indicate I’m on my own here?” “Isn’t that the way you want it?” Jules asks bluntly, but not meanly. Her voice is soft and gentle. I can’t answer her without lying. It’s not the way I want it, but I’ve got no right to say that. I’ve got no standing to even voice my desires. I pushed Lucas away and it hurt him badly. He lashed out me with vicious words of his own, and I’m still hurt about that. Maybe it’s just best if we have as little contact as possible. In fact, I’m betting he doesn’t even want to come to the appointments anymore because I think that had more to do with his feelings for me than anything. I take a sip of my water, and when I set the glass down, I tell Jules, “I don’t think what I want matters.” “Of course it matters,” Jules says quickly.

I shake my head. “No. Things ended badly, but even if they hadn’t, the point is, it ended. Both of us drew some lines in the sand. Some pretty harsh words were spoken.” “What did Lucas say to you?” Jules asks with eyes blazing. I shake my head again. “What did he say?” she grits out. An overwhelming despondency takes root within me, knowing that the terrible things that Lucas said are probably true. But maybe they’re not, and I think it would be nice to have one person believe in me. So I take the risk and open myself up. It’s what Lucas has been after to me to do anyway, right? “He told me I was weak,” I whisper as my eyes lower to the table. “Said he felt sorry for our kid and that I was going to fuck up its life the way my parents did to me.” Jules gasps and her face mottles red. “That little fucker.” Holding my hand up, I admit glumly, “He’s probably right.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Steph,” Jules barks at me. “He’s totally wrong and he’s an asshole to have said that to you.” My head shakes in denial, which I’m

apparently very good at. “You don’t know me, Jules. He does. He knows what my life was like growing up and how…how defective I am. I’ll probably screw this kid up the way I was screwed up.” “Bullshit,” she hisses at me, and then leans across the table. “You got pregnant by mistake. The easiest course for you to have taken was to have an abortion. Instead you tracked down Lucas and told him the truth, and you committed to having this kid and raising it on your own if that’s what it took. Am I right?” Reluctantly, I nod. “That’s because you love that baby inside of you,” she presses in a softer voice. “In fact, I’m betting you fell in love with it when you saw the pregnancy test was positive.” That’s so very true. “Tell me something, Stephanie,” Jules asks gently. “Putting Lucas aside, what are the things you think about when you think about raising your child?” There’s only one answer to that question, as I’ve thought about this a lot. “I’m going to do the exact opposite of everything my parents did.” Jules’s lips curve upward and she nods at me in satisfaction. “You’re going to be a great

mom.” I smile back at her, extremely grateful for her boosting me up. At least I have one person who thinks I can do this, and that makes all the difference in the world to me.

Chapter 23

Lucas “Don’t you think you ought to slow it down a bit?” Simone says to me as I take a sip of my fifth Jack and Coke. Or is it my sixth? “Is it rude to tell my little sister to fuck off?” I growl at her as I lean an elbow on the bar and survey the place. My eyes lock on a blonde across the small dive bar we stopped at because it was too early to hit the dance clubs. She gives me a look that says I could get very lucky if I just walk across to talk to her. “It’s completely rude,” Simone sniffs. “And stop taking your anger out on me.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, and take a bigger gulp, wanting to hurry up and go from buzzed to drunk off my ass. It’s been the only state of mind where I’ve had any peace the last few weeks. “I know you’ve been slamming liquor tonight trying to forget about Jules calling you out on the carpet,” she pushes back at me. “I

can’t believe you said that to Stephanie.” So now everyone’s on Stephanie’s side now. Just fucking great. I drain my glass, slam it onto the bar, and give a chin lift to the bartender to pour me another. I’m close to going numb, and while I’ll never admit it to my annoying sister, I am indeed trying to get a fast drunk going to forget about the way Jules went at me tonight. Simone, Van, and I had stopped by Max and Jules’s house for dinner with plans for going out later that night club hopping. We have four more days off until conference finals start this coming Sunday and I wanted to blow off some steam, which translated into I wanted to get laid. It was way past time. The minute I walked into their house, though, Jules came at me. Apparently she’d had lunch with Stephanie that day and got the entire scoop on what went down between us. This, of course, included Stephanie running her trap with the details of the words we’d exchanged. “You’re a fucking asshole,” Jules said to me when I walked into the kitchen. My first reaction was to look around to make sure the kids hadn’t heard, but they were nowhere to be found.

“Excuse me?” I asked, having no clue what she was talking about. I glanced at Max and saw that he knew whatever Jules was talking about, and he even moved in closer to her side to show solidarity with her anger. “You told Stephanie that she’d fuck up her child the way her parents fucked her up,” Jules hissed at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anything more shitty in my life, and you should be ashamed of yourself.” Simone gasped behind me and I have no clue what Van’s reaction was, because my eyes were pinned on Jules. I wanted to be incensed she’d even butt into my business, but I was too preoccupied with a searing guilt flash boiling my insides. It was perhaps the meanest thing I’ve ever said to anyone in my life, and it’s made me sick to my stomach for days and days thinking about it. It’s why I’ve been trying to stay drunk in my downtime. But I wasn’t about to be attacked, because that made my guilt worse, so I went on the offensive and became a total douche when I said, “Hey…I call it as I see it.” Jules’s mouth dropped open, Max’s eyes rounded in disappointment at me, and Simone sucked in a breath behind me. The kitchen was deadly quiet and no one said anything as I

engaged in a staring war with Jules. Finally she just turned her back on me and went to the sink, where she started rinsing out some dishes. Her silence was more vicious than anything she could have yelled at me. My gaze cut to Max’s and I was gutted when he turned his back on me too, walking up to Jules and hugging her from behind. “I’m outta here,” I had growled, and stormed out of the house. To my surprise, Van and Simone scurried after me, silently getting in my car. I turned on the ignition and warned both of them, “I don’t want to hear another word about this tonight.” They were both silent until now, and it seems Simone has found her voice. “You should go to Stephanie and apologize to her. That’s awful to say something like that, especially as sensitive as she is to those issues.” I turn my gaze from Simone back to the blonde across the bar. She licks her lips and I count that as a very clear indication I’m getting laid tonight. God knows I need it, as I’ve been in a total dry spell since Stephanie and I parted ways. Another stab of guilt hits me, not only for those nasty words, but for remaining silent for the past two weeks. I haven’t even bothered to

see if she’s doing okay, and that makes me feel shittier about myself. The bartender brings my drink back, and I shove some money across the wooden counter to him. “Keep the change.” “Thanks, man,” he says, and walks away. I pick up my drink and take another healthy slug, snagging a chunk of ice and chewing on it. I don’t look back to the blonde just yet, because she’s not the only game in here and I don’t want her to think it’s a sure bet, because I might find something better. “Lucas,” Simone says with a nudge to my shoulder. “I think we should talk about it. You and Stephanie had something really good and you both can’t throw your hands up and quit yet.” I spin on her and she takes a step backward, running into Van, who is just watching silently. He’s only out with us tonight because he likes to get drunk and bang loose women, same as me. He merely backs up a step to give Simone room as I snarl at her, “I’m not the one that quit the relationship. That was all Stephanie, so I’m not the bad guy here.” “You are if you said those things to her,” she retorts. “If there was a chance to work it out, you probably shot that to shit with those nasty

things you said to her.” Fuck yeah…I know that’s the truth, which means I’m not only feeling guilty, but I’m pissed at myself for being so stupid. All of these emotions have been making for one seriously pissed-off and aggravated man, and the more Simone picks at me, the greater chance I’m going to erupt, and she’s not going to like it. “Maybe if you went over to see her and apologized, you could get back on track. You are still having a baby with her, you know.” Simone’s yammering and the pointed reminder that I’m still going to be involved in Stephanie’s life but not the way I want it to be pushes me over the edge. I tilt my glass back, and in four powerful swallows I empty it. My head spins and I look down at Simone. “Mind your own fucking business, and I mean that sincerely. If you can’t, pack your shit up and get out of my house.” Simone’s mouth drops open in surprise, and that makes me feel guilty too. So I turn away from her and look at the blonde as I pull my car keys out of my pocket. I thrust them at Van and say, “Get Simone home if you don’t mind. I’ve got much better things to do with my time.”

I risk a quick glance at Simone and I see her eyes flash furiously at me. I ignore it and start across the bar toward the blonde, who smiles at me in lustful welcome. “Lucas,” Simone calls out to me. I ignore her. “Lucas, you don’t want to do this.” I continue to ignore her. “Lucas, look at me damn it,” she yells, and I twist my head to look over my shoulder at her. “Guess what?” she asks tauntingly. I merely wait to see what she seems so smug about. “I’ve been secretly making out with your roommate, and he loves it,” she says with an evil smile, and if she had meant to distract me from my course, she completely succeeds. I watch stunned as Simone turns to Van, wraps her arms around his neck, and goes to her tiptoes to kiss him. He rocks backward and his eyes flare in surprise as her mouth plasters his. Simone tilts her head, opens her mouth, and kisses him deeply, and the fucker doesn’t seem to be fighting her off. Granted, he’s not returning her embrace and his hands are closed into tight fists with my keys poking out,

but fuck if he’s not letting her tongue into his mouth. “What the fuck?” I yell as I stalk back toward them. Simone releases her grip on Van and steps back, turning to look at me with hawkish eyes. My jaw locks hard and I don’t know whether to punch Van or not. I try to maintain my cool and give him a chance to explain himself to me, but all he does is lean down to get into Simone’s face and snarl, “That was not fucking cool.” He slams my keys down on the bar and pushes past Simone, storming out of the bar. I watch his retreating back for a moment, completely confused as to what’s going on. Turning back to my sister, I grit out, “Do you want to explain what the hell that was?” She merely shrugs and looks at me with an innocent smile. “Looks like you’re going to have to stick with me now that Van’s gone. But I’ll drive you home since you’re drunk.” My eyes narrow at her. “That was just a show you put on to get me to keep my dick away from that woman?” “Did it work?” she asks hopefully. “Fuck no, it didn’t,” I growl at her. “You can take my car. I’ll find my own way home.”

Once again I turn toward the blonde and Simone begs me, “Please don’t do that, Lucas. You’ll regret it.” Fuck yeah, I’ll regret it. But it’s not going to dissuade me, because things can’t get any more fucked up. — Avery is a giggling, stumbling mass of blond hair and boobs as we lurch our way up the porch steps to her house. She’s been teasing me all night while we played pool together, making sure I could see how short her dress was when she bent over or how close her tits were to falling out by bending over slightly when she laughed. She’s a little annoying because her giggle is high pitched, and I’ve never really liked women who giggle, but hey, she’s got amazing lips and I know she could do some serious damage to me with them. As she fumbles trying to get her key into the door knob, I step up behind her and place my hands on her waist. I move in close to her and put my face into her hair, pressing my hips into her ass. She giggles again, tossing her head, and I get a mouthful of hair-sprayed hair. Pulling away, I swallow the bitter taste and

leave her alone so she can open the door and we can get into the fucking house. I’m horny as hell, have a condom burning a hole in my wallet, and I need a release because I don’t think I’ve ever been as tense or stressed in my life. Even the voluminous amount of Jack Daniel’s I had tonight does nothing to relax me, and I figure if I can get her mouth on my dick, at least I’ll feel a little better. The door opens, and with her weight against it, she stumbles into her house, giggling the entire time. Avery drops her purse and keys to the floor, turns to me, and before I can even walk in, she’s pulling the top of her dress down to expose her huge, glorious breasts that are obviously fake but totally fuckable. My dick starts to get hard as I focus on her, watching as she shimmies out of her dress. I enter the house, and by the time I’m closing the door, she’s standing in nothing but a pair of panties and high heels. She’s got a slamming body with a tiny waist and flat abdomen. An image bursts into my head: Stephanie naked in bed with me kissing her stomach, wishing like hell she’d develop that fucking baby bump. I wonder if she has it by now, and a dull ache starts throbbing in my head.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” Avery says with her words slightly slurred. Her hands go to my belt and she fumbles with it. “I want your crotch monster in my mouth.” Fuck…Stephanie gave the most amazing blow jobs, and she would have never called my dick something so ridiculous. I shake my head, banishing those thoughts. Stephanie doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. I make myself concentrate, bring my hands to Avery’s breasts. They’re fucking huge, and even my big palms can barely contain them. I squeeze and they bounce back like a beach ball. Stephanie’s were lush and soft and perfectly fit to my hands— “Fuck,” I mutter as my hands fall away from her body and I squeeze my eyes shut. Just need to concentrate on what this woman, this anonymous fuck, is doing to me. I hear my zipper come down, and then she’s shoving a hand awkwardly into my underwear, one of her long nails scratching my dick, which isn’t getting any harder. “Oops,” she giggles. “Sorry about that. Let me kiss it and make it feel better.” Her hand strokes me a few times, and I keep my eyes closed. I imagine it’s Stephanie’s hand

on me. She was always so assured, sometimes a little rough with me, which I liked. My cock starts to thicken, thinking of Stephanie stroking me with a tight fist and whispering dirty words to me. God, she fucking could talk as dirty as I could and I loved it. I get harder. Hard enough I could fuck Avery and get off pretty easily. But just as she starts to push my jeans down, another image of Stephanie pops into my mind, and this time it has nothing to do with sex. It’s the way I imagined her face looked when I told her she’d fuck up our kid. I’d fucking destroyed her with those words and hurt the woman I’m pretty sure I was head-over-heels in love with. The guilt crushes me and I can’t breathe. “I can’t,” I slur as I pull away from Avery’s grabby hands. I immediately tuck my dick back in and zip up, fumbling quickly with my belt. “Wait,” she says as she stumbles toward me. “What’s wrong?” I hold my hands up and take another step

back. “I’m sorry. But I’ve got to go.” “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Avery asks as she puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. Then she waves a hand down her body. “You’re not going to tap this? Are you gay or something?” I make the mistake of snickering over that as I take another backward step toward her door, and she glares at me. “I’m really sorry. You’re gorgeous, really, but, well…I just can’t.” “You asshole,” she screeches, and I actually prefer that sound to her giggle. “Sorry,” I mutter again before bolting out her door and down the sidewalk. I pull my phone out as I walk toward the street, not even paying attention to her yelling at me from the door. I access my Uber app and concentrate all my drunken efforts on getting a ride home.

Chapter 24

Stephanie I dial Jules’s phone and put my own up to my ear as I walk toward my apartment building. It’s a beautiful day out and I decided to take a walk around downtown, finishing up at the grocery store, as I was craving some lemon spaghetti for dinner. It appears lemons are my new craving and I can’t seem to get enough: lemonade, lemon candies, lemon cookies, lemon in my water, and tonight, lemon spaghetti. “Hey,” she answers somewhat out of breath. “Are you in the middle of something?” I ask her as I stop at an intersection and wait for the light to cross. It’s rush hour and traffic is heavy. “No, just trying to wrestle three kids into the house for dinner,” she says, and then calls out, “Levy…do not put that in your mouth. You can have it after dinner.” I laugh silently to myself, and wonder what

trials and tribulations I’ll face as a mom. “Sorry about that,” she says back into the phone. “So are you coming over tomorrow?” “Yup,” I tell her as I watch the traffic light. “What time?” “I’ll have the kids packed off by 8:30 A.M., so anytime after that,” she replies. “I’m so excited.” I am too. I’ve ordered in a bunch of games and crafts for the kids to do at Sweetbrier next week. Jules and I are going to have a play date tomorrow morning to go through everything and rough out a more structured agenda for the field trip. I don’t mind going to her house, as the Cold Fury are leaving today to travel to New Jersey for game three of the eastern conference finals. The Cold Fury took games one and two at home, and are looking stronger than ever. Lucas is playing his best hockey in my opinion, and it’s like he’s got super amazing focus or something. This makes me happy for him, and a little sad for me, since he’s clearly not being weighed down with thoughts of me or the baby. Still, I refuse to think about it too much and I absolutely don’t talk about it with Jules, since she confided that she reamed Lucas’s ass for what he said to me.

I see the cross-traffic’s light turn yellow and know that I’ll be clear to cross soon. I hitch my grocery bag up on my shoulder and take a step closer to the curb. “Okay, I’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll bring some lemon tarts to eat for breakfast.” “You’re still on the lemon thing?” she asks with a laugh. The light for pedestrians turns green and I take a step off the curb along with a guy to my left. I chastise Jules as I step into the street. “Don’t make fun of my cravings.” “I wouldn’t dare dream of it,” she says with a laugh. I start to laugh too, but then I notice from my peripheral vision the guy to my left jumps backward to the curb. My head starts to swing that way and I see the car too late. It’s already bearing down on me, and the last thing I remember is the man reaching toward me and yelling, “Get back.” — A beeping sound penetrates and I groan, wanting it to go away. I’m so tired and sleep is so lovely. But then I hear voices and I struggle to open my eyes.

The minute I see a nurse adjusting an IV bag near me, it all comes back. Me stepping into the street. The car coming. A man yelling at me. And then I was in an ambulance. I remember that, and fuck, my left wrist is throbbing, but I remember it hurting worse. And my head… I lift a hand up and gingerly touch the bandage starting near the top of my forehead and extending into my hair. “You okay on the pain?” the nurse asks me, and I nod. “I’m pregnant,” I mumble, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. “We know,” she says with a smile. “You told us several times.” I nod again, because I think I remember that. “Is the baby…” “The baby appears to be fine. Strong heartbeat.” “Thank God.” I exhale with relief. “Do you remember why you’re here?” the nurse asks as she leans over my bed and places a Styrofoam cup with a straw to my mouth. I take a grateful sip of cold water.

“Car was coming, and someone pulled me back, but something hit my arm. And then I hit my head somehow,” I rasp out, then take another sip of water. “That man probably saved your life,” the nurse tells me. “The car’s side-view mirror hit your wrist and it’s fractured, and you got thrown into the light pole and hit your head.” I nod again and grimace. “I remember getting a CT scan. And the doctor setting my wrist. It’s coming back.” “You’re a little groggy,” she says with a smile, and places the cup in my hand. “We’ve got you on some morphine for the pain.” “And that’s okay with the baby?” I ask. “It’s fine,” she says. “You’re only getting a small amount and we’ll give you a safe pain medication to take home. You’re really lucky. The break was clean and you’ve just got a minor concussion. They’re going to admit you once a bed opens up and keep you overnight, just for observation.” “Okay,” I whisper, my eyes starting to feel heavy again. Then they pop back open when I hear Jules’s voice. “I’m looking for Stephanie Frazier.” “She’s in there,” an unknown voice says, and

then Jules is rushing into my room and goes pale when she sees me lying in the bed. She looks at the cast on my left wrist and the bandage on my head, and tears well up in her eyes. “I’m fine,” I say with a smile, and then wave her closer to me. She comes to the bed and takes my hand in hers. “How did you even know I was here?” “We were on the phone and I heard screeching tires and yelling before the call disconnected. I kept trying to call you back and got no answer, but then about five minutes later, some guy calls me and told me you’d been hit by a car.” “Must have been the guy that pulled me back,” I muse. “Guess my phone’s okay.” “He dialed the last number, as he’d seen you were on the phone,” she says. “I had to wait to get a baby-sitter then I got here as soon as I could.” “You shouldn’t have come,” I scold her gently as I shift up in the bed a little, wincing because my head really hurts when I move. “They’re going to admit me and I should get out tomorrow.” Jules bites her lip and then asks fearfully, “The baby?”

“Fine,” I say as I squeeze her hand. “Oh, thank God,” she practically wheezes. “I was not looking forward to calling Lucas with this news.” “Don’t call him,” I blurt out, and then shoot a look to the nurse, who is typing into a computer by my bed, but she doesn’t seem to be listening. “I’m fine. The baby’s fine. He’s on his way to New Jersey for a play-off game, so let’s not stress him out about this.” “He’d kill me if I didn’t tell him,” Jules says with a pointed look at me. “He has a right to know.” “No, he doesn’t,” I tell her with an empathetic but firm voice. “Sure…if the baby was at risk, I could see it. But it’s just me with a broken wrist and a few staples in my head. He absolutely doesn’t have a right to know about that.” “Stephanie,” Jules says pleadingly. “Trust me. He’d want to know.” “No,” I say, not in a mean way, but again very firmly. “Don’t bother him. I feel really strongly about this, and it’s mostly my hurt over what he said to me that’s talking right now. Just…give this to me, okay?” I can see she wants to fight me, but she eventually just nods and says, “Okay. I won’t

bother him.” “Thank you,” I say with an apologetic smile. “It’s just…better this way.” “If you say so,” she says dubiously. “And you don’t need to stay here,” I tell her as an afterthought. “I have great nurses to look after me.” “That’s not something I’m going to argue with you about,” she says just as firmly, and I know she means business. “The kids are at the neighbors’, who can watch them all night. I’m going to stay until you get into a room, make sure you get settled, then I’ll go.” “Okay, fine,” I tell her before I let out a huge yawn. “But don’t expect me to entertain you. This morphine is making me sleepy.” “You can’t go to sleep,” Jules says quickly, and squeezes my hand again. “Actually, she can,” the nurse says, and she must have been listening in. “She’s got a mild concussion, but it’s fine for her to sleep. We’ll wake her up every four hours or so to check on her, though.” “See,” I say as I look back to Jules. “I’m going to go to sleep and you’re just going to stare at me. So go home. You’ve been assured I’m fine, and if you want to come back tomorrow, I’d love it, but you don’t need to sit

here in an uncomfortable chair and watch me sleep.” Jules chews on her lower lip, her gaze going to the nurse, who says, “She’s in good hands. If you want to leave your number, I’ll call you when we get her moved upstairs and tell you the room number.” Looking back to me, Jules asks, “Are you sure? I hate leaving you alone.” “I’m used to it,” I say without thinking, and I watch as Jules blanches at the reminder I’ve always been a loner. Her eyes start to mist up and I give her a stern shake of my head. “Don’t you cry. It’s forbidden.” Jules laughs…well, snorts, and then looks at my sympathetically. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” I ask curiously. “No one should ever be fine with being alone,” she murmurs as she leans over and kisses my cheek. “I hate that you feel so comfortable with me leaving.” And now I’m the one that gets a film of moisture over my eyes. I blink them harshly as she pulls back from me and smile confidently. “You’re sweet, but you shouldn’t worry about me.” “Someone has to,” Jules mutters as she stands up from her chair. “I’ll be back

tomorrow morning. With something lemony for you.” “Yay,” I say as I start to lift my hands to clap, and then I wince as I realize I have a cast on and my head is still throbbing. “Go to sleep,” Jules says, then blows me a kiss. She turns to the nurse, gives her number, and waves as she walks out the door. “You need anything?” the nurse asks, and I finally look to see her name on her credentials hanging on a lanyard around her neck. “Yes, Tabitha,” I say her name. “Is my phone around here?” She nods and turns to a plastic bag with the hospital’s logo on it. “It’s in good shape considering what happened to you. Just a tiny crack on the screen.” She smiles when she hands it to me and then leaves. I hold the phone in my good hand, contemplating it. Wondering if I should make the call. Trying to decide how much of a glutton for punishment I am if I do. Figuring that life’s too short—which became readily apparent to me today with the close call that I had—I turn the phone on and dial

my parents’ home number. Their housekeeper, whose name I don’t know, answers. “Frazier residence.” “Yes, hello. This is Stephanie Frazier. Is my mom or dad available?” “Just a minute, miss,” she says, and then there’s nothing but silence for a few minutes. I wait and wonder what’s going on, but then she’s back. “I’m sorry, Miss Frazier. But your parents have asked if they can call you back. They’re in the middle of something right now.” A grim smile tips my lips upward and I say, “Can you let them know I’m in the hospital?” “Oh, well…yes, please hold on and let me tell them,” she says in an urgent tone. Again, silence, and they must have a hold feature on their phone system. Within moments, the housekeeper is back. “Um…Miss Frazier, with all apologies, they said they are tied up with something very important but they asked for me to, um…find out what happened…and well, to get your information and they’ll call you back as soon as they are done.” Jesus, the sympathy in her voice pierces through me deep. She’s horrified by their reaction, and yet it’s exactly what I expected. It confirmed to me what I had thought all along. It’s better to rely only on yourself, because

people have the brutal capacity to shred you to pieces even in their neglect of you. “That’s okay,” I tell her gently, more for her feelings than for anything. “They can call me on my cell phone when they get a chance.” “Of course, I’ll tell them,” she gushes, then adds, “I’m sure if there’s anything you need, they’ll be right on it.” I can’t help the laugh that pops out of my mouth. I want to disabuse her of that, but figure she must be new to their employ, and why even bother her with the cold hard facts about my parents? “Thank you,” I say quietly, then disconnect the phone. I think for a few more moments before tossing my phone onto my lap. I see the nurse walking by the open curtain of the ER bay I’m in and call out to her. She stops, pokes her head in to look at me. “What can I do for you?” “Do I have to stay overnight if I don’t want to?” I ask her. Her eyebrows draw inward and she steps into the room. “You can leave, but I wouldn’t advise it. It’s best for you to stay the night and let us keep an eye on you.”

“Unless you tell me I’m in mortal danger, I think I’d like to go home,” I tell her with my chin raised. “You’d have to check out against medical advice,” she says. “I’m aware of that,” I return calmly. “But I think I’d just be more comfortable resting at home.” “Do you have someone who could stay with you?” she presses. I lie to her face so I don’t have to continue the conversation. “Yes. My friend who was just here. If you can start to work up the discharge papers for me, I’ll call her to come back.” “Okay, then,” she says, but I can tell she’s not happy with me. It takes almost two hours to get the paperwork done, and I think it’s because they were hoping I’d get frustrated and just stay. I assure them I have a ride, and God bless the Uber app, there’s a car waiting for me when the nurse wheels me out of the emergency room doors. The driver’s nice and actually helps me all the way to my apartment door. I give him a tip, which he doesn’t refuse, and I’m glad. Then I walk into my room, crawl into my bed, and fall asleep.

Chapter 25

Lucas “You know your brooding is getting a little pathetic,” Max says. I don’t even look at him, preferring instead to look out the airplane window as we descend into Newark. My thoughts have been dark and bitter, all because of Stephanie. I can’t go back and I can’t go forward. I’m stuck in hell and miserable as fuck. I’ve been a prick to my family and teammates, but they’ve given me a pretty wide berth lately, so I’m left gloriously alone most of the time. I like to imagine it’s my penance for the crappy way I left things with Stephanie. “Why the hell you just don’t go see her is beyond me,” Max continues. I don’t even lift my temple off the window, where it’s been resting most of the plane ride. “You can totally fix this if you just try.” How do I fix what I said? How will I ever convince her that I think she’d make a

fantastic mother, when my last words to her were that she’d fuck up our child? And really, why would I even bother trying when she made it clear she’s the one who wanted space? Stephanie is the one who called things off, and yet here I am wallowing in misery. “Lucas,” Max says sharply, and I finally lift my head off the window to look at him. “You’ve got to snap out of this. Fix it or move on, but do something, for Christ’s sake.” “What do you care?” I ask him softly. “I’m playing the best hockey of my life. Apparently channeling my bad temperament into the game is making me a better player.” “The play-offs are what’s making you better, moron,” he says with the deepest affection he can muster. This much is true. There are only two things that help to dull my thoughts about Stephanie, and that’s getting drunk and play-off hockey. Since that disastrous night last week where I got shit-faced drunk and walked away from an easy lay, I decided I really should just focus on hockey. That was the best thing I could do, because this was the Stanley Cup play-offs and I didn’t need to be distracted. So I funneled my pent-up frustrations into the game, choosing to focus on something that I could be

successful at to make me feel better about myself. “This isn’t like you,” Max says. “My brother doesn’t give up on what he wants.” I let my head roll and my temple thumps against the window again, my eyes staring blankly out the window. “Your brother also knows when he can’t win at something and cuts his losses.” “Bullshit, Lucas,” Max whispers in an acidic voice. “You’re a chickenshit, and frankly, I’m ashamed of you.” This gets my attention. While Max and I might not always see eye to eye on things, he’s my best friend in the world. He’s my brother and the one I trust most in this world. Disappointing him is like a gut punch. My head pops up and I turn to look at him. “What do you think I should do that I haven’t?” “You should try,” he says simply. I tense up at his words as I remember saying something very similar to Stephanie that day we broke up. I pushed her to keep trying, and the minute she said something I didn’t like, I gave up. “She said she wanted space,” I say in a low voice. “That she only wanted to be friends.”

“And then you told her she’d fuck her child up,” Max returns gently, because he knows that still chafes me hard. He knows this because he knows I’m not the type of person to react so viciously. “I’m pretty sure the lines of communication were dinged a little at that point.” “Which is why I’m trying to move on,” I point out. “No, it’s why you’re giving up.” “You think that if I just apologize to her that she’ll forgive me for saying something so fucked up?” “I think you don’t know until you try,” he says, and fuck, why does it have to be that simple? It can’t be that simple. My body jostles in the seat as the plane’s wheels touch down, then leans slightly forward as the brakes are applied. Max pulls out his phone and turns it on so he can text Jules that he’s landed. I used to think that was ridiculous, being so tied to someone that you wanted to let them know when you were no longer in the air and on solid ground, but goddamn, I’d kill to be able to do that with Stephanie. I’m only half paying attention as Max reads

something on his phone, then he’s got it up to his ear. I perk up and listen intently, though, when he says, “What’s wrong?” into the phone. I turn my head to look at him and his eyes are worried as he listens to whom I’m assuming is Jules on the other end. I’m also assuming she must have sent him a text to call her when we landed. Max listens for a very long time and I feel my anxiety increasing, because the worry never leaves his face. I have no clue what it could be. One of the kids? I’d die if something happened to one of them. Or our parents? Simone? Finally, Max says, “I’m going to tell him.” Fuck…he’s talking about me. My gut tightens, and then I feel bile rising in my throat when he says, “He deserves to know. I’ll take the heat for telling him.” Shit, shit, shit. This is about Stephanie. I know it. “Okay, honey…love you too. I’ll call you in a little bit.” Max hangs up and immediately confirms my worst fears. “It’s Stephanie.” My breath gushes out as my lungs deflate and I prepare for the worst. “Is the baby—”

Max shakes his head. “No, the baby is fine. But Stephanie was in an accident; hit by a car. She’s got a broken wrist and a concussion.” “Jesus,” I mumble as my head spins. “When? Where?” “A few hours ago,” Max tells me. “She was stepping into an intersection to cross and a car was coming. Some guy pulled her back but the car caught her arm, then she hit her head. Jules has been to see her in the ER and is going back in the morning.” “Stephanie didn’t want me to know, did she?” I ask. Max told Jules he’d take the heat, and that means I was finding out something that someone didn’t want me to find out. Max shakes his head. “No, but Jules wouldn’t keep that from me. My telling you takes Jules out of it with Stephanie.” A heavy weight presses down on my chest. Stephanie really doesn’t need me, or anyone really for that matter. I should call her and check in, make sure I hear it with my own ears that she’s fine, then I have to move the fuck on. Except, I can’t fathom how I do that when I know she’s lying in a hospital all by herself. She may feel most comfortable as the loner who handles everything on her own, but that

doesn’t mean it’s right. That I can’t give her support. In fact, I’m thinking maybe I sidestepped this too much with Stephanie, playing it a little too casual so I didn’t offend her sensibilities. Maybe what I should have been doing was pushing her out of her comfort zone more, forcing her to see that things like care and trust and loyalty don’t have to be high-risk endeavors. Damn it all to hell, I played it all wrong with her from the beginning. I should have been shoving this shit down her throat to show her that she could have so much better than an existence holed up behind thick walls. “I’m taking the next flight back to Raleigh,” I say suddenly, and Max’s head whips to me. “No fucking way,” he says hotly. “Were you not just telling me I had to try?” I throw back at him as the plane taxis toward the terminal. “Well, yeah…but not at the expense of a play-off game, Lucas. Jules said she’s fine and she’s getting out of the hospital tomorrow.” “Yeah, but she’ll be there by herself tonight,” I say as I pull up Safari on my phone to search flights back to Raleigh. “The baby is fine,” Max practically sputters, unwilling to believe I’m going to ditch my team

and the play-offs. “Yes, but Stephanie isn’t,” I say assuredly. I know this is the right thing to do. It’s what I fucking should have done two months ago when we started this journey together. I should have rubbed her face in my feelings so she’d get used to it. I should have never played it casual with her, because from day one, there was nothing casual about what we had with each other. “Lucas,” Max says softly. I look up from my phone and lock eyes with him. “Don’t try to talk me out of this.” His lips curve upward and he inclines his head at me. “I was just going to say good luck and hurry back. The team needs you too.” I smile at him. “I will. I just want to see her and make sure she’s okay, then I’ll hop on the next plane back. I won’t make tomorrow’s game but I’ll be back by game four.” “You better run this by Coach, you know,” Max says. “I will,” I say as I go back to browsing flights. “But nothing he says is going to change my mind.” “You always were a hardheaded motherfucker,” Max mumbles, and I just grin because he is so right about that.

— “What do you mean she’s not here?” I ask the woman sitting behind the information desk in the hospital lobby. “She was never admitted, sir,” the woman tells me as she peers at her computer screen behind thick glasses. She has to be a hundred years old and I wonder if she’s reading it right. I have to restrain myself from leaping behind the desk so I can look at her screen. Finally, she looks up and she must see my worried expression, because she glances around the lobby before leaning toward me and whispering, “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but it looks like she checked out against medical advice.” “What does that mean?” I whisper back to her as I lean over the desk. “It means she was going to be admitted but she refused.” God, that woman takes fucking independence to a dangerous level. “Thank you,” I mutter to the woman, and bolt out the automatic sliding doors. Stephanie’s apartment is a good twenty minutes from the hospital, and for the life of me, I can’t fathom why she’d go home by

herself with a broken wrist and a concussion. It’s fucking insane. I call Jules as I pull onto the Beltline and she answers right away. “Have you seen her yet?” Max had called to tell her I was returning and to pump her for any other pertinent information. “She never got admitted,” I tell her in frustration. “Checked herself out against medical advice.” “Jeez, she’s a bonehead sometimes,” Jules mutters. “Got that right,” I concur. “I’m headed to her place now. Just wanted to give you an update.” Jules makes a sound of surprise that I’d be so considerate. She and I haven’t been on the best of terms since she laid into me last week. “I really hope you work things out with Stephanie,” Jules says softly. “I think you both are good for each other, and Lucas…I really want you to be happy.” Damn if I don’t feel a little mushy from those sincere words from a woman who happily would have castrated me last week. “Thanks, Jules. That means a lot.” “Let’s double date once you get it all worked

out, okay?” she teases. I let myself have a moment to laugh. “Deal.” I promise Jules I’ll call her later and let her know Stephanie is okay. I manage to find a parallel spot outside of Steph’s apartment building, saving me a good ten minutes not having to walk from the closest parking deck. The elevator seems to take forever, though, and I’m practically pushing out of the doors when they open on her floor. Her apartment door comes into view and I have a moment of serious self-doubt. I’m dealing with a woman who has the power to break my heart, and she’s probably going to do it inadvertently by trying to push me away. I just have to man up and be a bigger bully than she can be to me, and I’ve got a few things going for me. First, she’s injured and concussed, so I figure I can probably talk circles around her. Not to mention, she’s in no shape to make me leave, so I’ll just manhandle her—gently of course—if she tries. Finally, I’m going to wear her down with my persistence, and I’m not going to let up until I tear down every last wall she has and stomp it to dust. I raise my hand and bang my fist on the door, completely ready to change things

between us.

Chapter 26

Stephanie I awaken slowly, and the first thing I notice is that someone’s banging on my door. The next thing I notice is that my wrist and head are throbbing almost in tandem. Groaning, I roll out of the bed, banging my cast on the nightstand. “Shit.” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stumble out of my bedroom and head to the door. I freeze when I hear Lucas’s voice come through. “Stephanie…open up, please.” Holy shit. Am I still dreaming? I stare at the door as I cradle my casted wrist in my other arm. What in the hell is he doing here? “Stephanie, please,” he calls out. “I’m worried. I heard about the accident and I went to the hospital but you weren’t there, and I just want to make sure you’re okay, then I’ll leave you alone, okay?” That spurs me into action and I reach the

door in three quick steps. I pull it open and Lucas is there looking beyond fatigued. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is a mess, and his clothes are wrinkled. I take this all in as he takes me in, his eyes doing a quick once-over before spending a few moments on my cast before moving to my head. His jaw clenches hard and I can almost hear his teeth grinding. “What are you doing here?” I ask him, still almost half believing this is a dream. He doesn’t answer my question and instead says, “I’ve been knocking on your door for almost five minutes. I was about ready to call the police.” “Sorry,” I say as I open the door further to invite him in. It’s the polite thing to do. “Guess I was sleeping too hard.” “Why in God’s name would you check yourself out of the hospital like that?” he asks angrily, and already we are off to a bad start. My hackles rise and I’m extra grumpy because my head is really throbbing right now. “How about you answering my first question… why are you here?” Lucas steps past me into my living room and I shut the door, turning to face him. He looks me over again, and says, “You should be in bed. I’ll make you some breakfast and coffee.”

“Lucas,” I say sharply, and he blinks at me in surprise. “What are you doing here? If I remember correctly, with my concussion and all, you have a play-off game tonight in New Jersey.” “Did you honestly think Jules was going to keep this to herself?” he asks me with a slight sarcasm in his voice that I’d normally welcome, but not now. I have a massive headache and it’s hard to wipe my butt with my nondominant hand. Let’s just say I’m grumpy. Still, I admit, “No. I figured she’d call Max and word would get back to you.” “And did you honestly think that you could have a near-death experience,” he says quietly as he takes a step closer to me, “and get seriously injured, that I wouldn’t come to see how you were doing?” “The baby’s fine,” I mutter as my hand rubs my stomach. Lucas’s eyes drop there briefly before coming back up to meet mine. “I’m sure Jules passed that on too.” “I’m not here for the baby,” Lucas says in a low voice. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay.” I have to bite the inside of my cheek to take my mind off the fact I’m getting ready to burst into tears, and I’m not sure it has anything to

do with hormones. The fact that Lucas is checking on me when I’ve pretty much resigned myself that he didn’t give a shit at all has me feeling all kinds of stuff that’s extremely uncomfortable right now. “Why?” I ask, and that’s really all I can say or I might start blubbering like a baby, and I don’t like to cry. My parents hated it when I was growing up so I learned how to contain my feelings, but fuck if they’re not threatening to break free right now. Okay, yes…that must be hormones. Rather than answer me, Lucas spins away from me, scrubbing his hands through his hair before grabbing the top of his head while he stares at my kitchen. I remain silent because the ball is in his court. When he turns back around, his expression is guarded. His words come out in a forced manner that I know means it’s difficult for him to say them. “The thought of you dying was unbearable to me.” “What?” I whisper, my heart starting to flutter madly, and I wonder if I’m having a stroke or something. I was, after all, hit by a car yesterday. Lucas drops his hands from his head and shoves them deep into his pocket, as if that

move provides a security blanket. It keeps him removed…safe. I know all the body language signs because I do it myself. He doesn’t want to be hurt, and that breaks my heart. He’s shielding himself the way I did. “Lucas,” I say as I tilt my head at him, and then I flounder. I don’t know what to say. I want him to be brave and to tell him to say fuck all my insecurities and take that leap of faith, but his name floats into silence and we just stare at each other. Finally he coughs to clear his throat and says almost with embarrassment, “Look…I’m sorry I barged in here like this. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” “I am,” I say automatically, and it’s an absolute lie. It comes out involuntarily because I’m used to projecting to the world that I’m okay, even when I’m not. He nods in understanding and gives me a small smile. “Good. That’s good.” Again, we stare at each other, both submerged in awkward silence that feels as thick as mud. “Well, I’m going to get out of your hair,” he says hesitantly, but then adds, “unless you need anything.” I can only shake my head, my throat

completely constricted in fear that he’s getting ready to walk out my door again. This time on a polite note, which somehow seems worse because apathy is ten times the devil that anger is. “Okay,” he says softly, then turns toward the door. I want to call him back, but my body won’t move and I’m not sure even a squeak of distress could escape. Luc’s hand grabs the door knob and I scream inside of my head for him not to go. I’m pathetically weak that I can’t voice my needs to him, but Lucas already told me that’s what I was. He was so fucking right. Tears well up in my eyes, and just as the door starts to open and my heart starts to splinter down the middle so painfully it obliterates the pain in my wrist and head, Luc growls and spins on me. His face is mottled with anger and his eyes are blazing as he snarls, “Fuck this shit. I’m not leaving. And we’re figuring our crap out right now. No, we’re fixing this crap right now. It’s time to put up or shut up, Stephy.” I just blink at him in astonishment, even as my entire body almost sags in relief that he didn’t walk out that door.

In two strides, he’s standing in front of me with a fierce glare of determination. “Cat got your tongue?” he says tauntingly, but it’s not menacing. It’s almost as if he’s daring me to tell him to shut up, but he knows I won’t. “Okay, I’ll start first. Here’s my put up or shut up. I’m in fucking so much love with you I can’t sleep at night. Half the time I don’t think I can breathe because I miss you so much. I don’t want to be friends with you, and I don’t want a casual fuck. I want you to let me love you. I want you to love me back equally. I want to go out and get a ring and put it on your finger with superglue so it doesn’t fucking come off ever. I want to put you into bed right now and curl myself around you until you recover from the accident. I want to talk with you into the wee hours of the morning for the rest of our lives because we have too much to say to each other to ever want to sleep. And, Stephy, I swear to fucking God…if you just tell me that you’ll try to give me those things even if ultimately you can’t, I’ll be happy with just that. My world will be made if you can just give me that much of you.” Luc’s words are so dynamic, so impactful, they completely destroy me and then build me up like I’m fortified with steel. For the first

time in my entire life, I feel empowered. I feel worthy. I feel loved unconditionally. “Oh God,” I practically moan as I lurch up from the armrest of the couch. I stumble toward Luc and whimper. “Oh God…just…Oh God.” Luc’s face pales with fear and his arms come out hesitantly as I fall into them. “Stephy?” “Oh God,” I say again, this time with complete self-loathing, and I know he hears it in my voice because his arms tighten securely around me. “What in the hell have I done?” “Stephy,” he says, this time in admonishment. I shake my head furiously. “You are the most amazing person in the entire world, and I was the fucking dumbass who was too stuck in my own stupid thoughts not to latch on to that.” “They weren’t stupid—” he begins, rushing to my defense, but I roll over him, pulling out of his arms. “So fucking stupid,” I castigate myself as I wave my hands around like a lunatic. I look at him despondently and ask, “How could you want someone so stupid?”

I can tell when Luc’s had enough of my pity party, because his lips curve upward in a smirk. “You’re really going there, Steph?” “I’m trying to bring home the full magnitude of my own absurdity,” I tell him with a glare. “Stephanie,” he says softly, opening his arms back up to invite me into their safety. But I haven’t earned that right yet. “I love you, Luc,” I tell him truthfully. The most truthful words I’ve ever spoken in my life. “I just…I love you more than anything, and I can’t believe I was so afraid to admit that. I’m just so sorry if it made you feel bad about yourself that I couldn’t admit it. You’re the last person in the world I’d want to hurt.” “You didn’t—” “I did,” I reaffirm, and that beautiful, sweet, loving, and understanding man lets me shoulder the responsibility of this because he knows I need to. He merely nods to give me that. Stepping up to him, I put my good hand to his cheek and warmth flows through me as he leans into it. “I love you,” I tell him again, and it sounds even better this time. “And I’m not afraid to love you. I’m not afraid what that means. I’m not even the tiniest bit worried that I’ll get

hurt by you. It’s all so clear now…” My words drift away, along with my gaze, which slides off to the side for a moment as I consider just how very close I came to losing the best of what life has to give me. When I look back to Luc, I admit, “Actually…it was clear from the get-go. I just refused to give myself credit that I deserved it.” “But you do,” he tells me. “Oh, I know I do,” I say with a smile. “Just as you deserve to be happy, and Luc…I’m just so grateful it’s me who does it for you.” “You so do it for me,” he murmurs as he leans down to brush his lips over mine. My hand curls around his neck and I press my mouth to his. We don’t kiss, we just stand there with our lips open and touching, breathing into each other. Luc murmurs into my mouth, “Say it again.” “I love you.” He pulls back and frames my face with his hands. “Let’s see if I can freak you out some more.” I give myself over to him with absolute trust. “Bring it.” “Will you marry me?” he asks without hesitation, and he does so because I see a

reciprocal trust in his gaze. “Yes,” I return without hesitation, and I’m absolutely charmed for life as his eyes fill with so much happiness I’ll never forget this moment as long as I live. “Really?” he asks. I know he’s having a hard time believing that I’m just taking the leap so easily. “You’ll catch me,” I tell him. “Pardon?” “I’m jumping off knowing you’ll catch me,” I explain. “I just know it.” “That’s right,” he promises me. “I will never let you fall.” Luc bends down and kisses me properly this time. A welcome-home sort of kiss, and oh my…this man is my home. No doubt about it. The kiss melts away and then I’m in Luc’s embrace, my head pressed into his neck as we squeeze each other in further silent affirmation. Suddenly, I jolt with the realization of something important he needs to know. I pull away from him and beam a megawatt smile his way. “Guess what?” “What?” he asks, thoroughly amused by me. “I’ve got a baby bump,” I say proudly, then I

lift my pajama top so he can see. “Oh wow,” he murmurs, placing his hand on the very slight but totally noticeable swelling there. “Just…wow.” “Cool, huh?” I ask as I watch his hand just lying gently on me. “Totally horny right now,” he says as his eyes come to mine and we grin at each other for a brief moment as we share the inside joke between us. “But seriously…it’s amazing. You’re amazing.” “I feel like a new person, Luc,” I say softly. “It’s so fucking weird…but you told me it was time to put up or shut up.” “I feel like a new person too, Steph,” he says, and I get another sweet, light kiss that speaks of newfound happiness that will grow each day. “What do we do now?” I ask him, eager to get started on this new life with a man I’ve been insanely in love with for a long time but was too afraid to admit it until now. “I have an idea,” he says slyly. “Let’s go pick out an engagement ring.” “Right now?” I ask dubiously. “Chicken?” he taunts. “Let me just get dressed,” I tell him sharply

as I turn to the bedroom to get some clothes on so I can go get engaged. “It will make a good story for your teammates when you fly back tonight.” His laugh follows me back to the bedroom and I smile to myself how lucky I am.

Epilogue

Van The knock on the hotel door rouses me from my blissfully blank stare out the window to the parking lot five stories below. I’ve only been here about half an hour, the team bus dropping us off after our victory over the Wildcats tonight to take game three of the conference finals. I turn away from the window and walk across the hotel room, opening the door fully expecting and in no way surprised to see Lucas standing there. He’d texted me that he was flying back tonight. “Dude,” he says with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face as he holds his fist out to me. “Dude,” I say, without a return smile but totally pandering to him. I mean, I’m happy we won the game, but nothing makes me smile the way he is. Lucas pushes past me, throwing his duffel bag onto the bed nearest the window, which is

always the one he takes. Doesn’t make a difference to me one way or the other. My sleep is shitty every night no matter where I am. I close the door and turn to find him sitting on the bed texting on his phone. “Did you catch any of the game?” I ask him casually as I flop down onto my bed. “Hold on,” he says distractedly. “I’m just texting Steph to let her know I made it to the hotel.” That’s sweet. Fucking not. Looks like Lucas is once again pussy whipped. “I take it you two made up?” I ask, not really caring about the answer to my first question, and well, not really caring about the answer to this one either. As an afterthought because it’s totally fucking rude otherwise, I ask, “And I’m assuming she’s okay?” Lucas had all the tongues wagging on the team when he got off the team plane last night when we’d arrived, only to board a commercial flight right back to Raleigh as Stephanie had been in a bad accident. “She’s banged up, but fine,” Lucas says as he

puts the phone down and looks to me still with a shit-eating grin on his face. “What?” I ask with slight annoyance that he has something big he wants to share and he’s making me ask for it. I don’t work hard for anything other than hockey. “We got engaged,” he says with barely contained excitement, and I swear if he squeals like a girl, I will be well within my rights to beat the fuck out of him. Thankfully his smile actually dulls slightly as he pushes up off the bed and unzips his duffel. “Didn’t think that would happen when I left.” I don’t reply because I don’t know what to say. I have no clue what even happened between them. All I know is that Stephanie’s pregnant, they broke up, and until about two minutes ago, I knew that Lucas was one unhappy son of a bitch. It never crossed my mind to find out why he was unhappy. He’s probably the dude I’m closest to on the team, and yet our conversations never got deeper than discussing sports or pussy. Well, after Stephanie it was just sports, but no biggie. Not much to say about pussy. It is what it is. My gut clenches as I think about my most

recent fuck, and well, okay…admittedly it wasn’t just some stranger I’d picked up. “I’m going to go take a shower,” Lucas says as he grabs his shave kit out of his bag. I lift my chin up in acknowledgment and watch him retreat into the bathroom. I’m wondering what he would do if I admitted to him that I’d fucked his baby sister that very night she’d kissed me right in front of him. She did it to try to stop her brother from making a bad mistake, and rationally, I get her motivation. But she also awakened a sleeping beast, and I let her know that when she walked into the house that night. I met her at the front door, inflamed with lust and fury that she could get me so worked up. It wasn’t the first time she’d kissed me, but she did it that night to blatantly piss her brother off, and that could have caused major problems between us if Lucas thought there was really something going on. She never even thought about the damage she could have caused. If Simone wanted to play that game, I’d gladly join in. So I had my fist in her hair and my mouth on hers in a punishing kiss before the front door even shut.

When I tore my mouth from hers, taking slight satisfaction in the way her hands were clenching my T-shirt and her eyes were glazed with passion, I growled at her. “I’m tired of your games, little girl. No more flirting and shaking your ass around me.” She laughed at me, and fuck, it was all husky and filled with sex. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that laugh, and I usually got it every time she pushed me to the point I’d kiss her out of frustration and rage over the way she teased me around the house. She knew was she was doing, but she didn’t know that night how close to the edge she pushed me. I fisted her hair harder and leaned down to bite her lip hard enough she made a sound of distress. I licked at it and she responded by shoving her hips into me, seeking contact, and my fury raged hotter that she would continue to try to one-up me. She was utterly incorrigible and was in need of a lesson. So I pulled back from her and released her hair. “Get your ass in my bed and get naked. I’m going to show you what happens when you aren’t smart enough to stop provoking me.” I said it with cold eyes and a menacing growl that was meant to scare her off so she’d leave

me alone and stop torturing me. Instead, her eyes heated with excitement and she sauntered past me, pulling her blouse off as she went. I closed my eyes and sighed, knowing I was going to follow through with my threat. My dick was aching too much, and I wanted her too bad to pass up the feast that would be waiting for me in my room if I dared to just move my feet. That night I fucked Simone Fournier because she asked for it. Begged for it more than once and so I gave it to her more than once. Then I kicked her out of my bed and told her to keep her distance, because now that she was wearing my sweat on her skin, she’d lost her shine. Think that deterred her? No. She just laughed at me, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to throttle her or fuck her again. At least when I was balls deep inside of her, she was compliant. For some reason that crazy woman wants me, and I can’t figure out why. I’m mean, guarded, and selfish. I’ve got nothing to offer a woman other than my dick…and yeah, she came several times for me that night. But she really, really needs to tread

carefully. She needs to heed my warning to stay away. Simone has no clue how dangerous I really am. If she knew what my DNA was made of, she’d scurry far away and never look back at me.

BY SAWYER BENNETT Cold Fury Hockey Series Alex Garrett Zack Ryker Hawke Max Roman Lucas Van (coming soon)

Sugar Bowl Sugar Daddy Sugar Rush Sugar Free

Love Hurts Series Sex in the Sticks Jilted

Wicked Horse Series Wicked Fall

Wicked Lust Wicked Need Wicked Ride Wicked Bond

Off Series Off Sides Off Limits Off the Record Off Course Off Chance Off Season Off Duty

Last Call Series On the Rocks Make It a Double Sugar on the Edge With a Twist Shaken Not Stirred

Legal Affairs Series Legal Affairs Confessions of a Litigation God Friction

Clash Grind Yield

Standalone If I Return Uncivilized Love: Uncivilized Sexy Lies and Rock & Roll Finding Kyle

PHOTO: MARIE KILLEN

Since the release of her debut contemporary romance novel, SAWYER BENNETT has written more than thirty books and been featured on both the New York Times and the USA Today bestseller lists on multiple occasions. A reformed trial lawyer from North Carolina, Bennett uses real-life experience to create relatable, sexy stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From new adult to contemporary romance, she writes something for just about everyone. Bennett likes her Bloody Marys strong, her martinis dirty, and her heroes a combination of the two. When not bringing fictional romance to life, Bennett is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to a very active toddler, as well as a full-time servant to two adorably naughty dogs. She believes in the good of others and that a bad day can be cured with a great workout, cake, or both. Stop being a bad girl.

At least like the post show some appreciation. sawyerbennett.com Facebook.com/​bennettbooks Twitter: @BennettBooks

Read on for an excerpt from

Van A Cold Fury Hockey Novel

by Sawyer Bennett

Available from Loveswept

Chapter 1 Van I know I should get up and hit the gym, but I’m feeling too fucking lazy today. We’re in the home stretch of the regular season with the first round of the playoffs starting next week. Our practices have been light since we’ve clinched the top spot and the coaches want us as fresh as possible. I’ve decided to apply that same reasoning to myself, and it does not bode well for me to take some initiative to hit the gym. I’m a procrastinator by nature and I hate fucking working out. It’s a necessary evil, but if I can get by with missing one workout without feeling too terribly guilty, I’ll do it. Lucas comes out of his bedroom and heads into the kitchen. I can tell by the subtle waft of cologne that follows him as he walks by the couch where I’m lying that he’s going out tonight. I assume he’s seeing that woman he met from the museum. He seems pretty taken with her and that works fine by me. He spends

a lot of nights at her apartment so I have this little house to myself much of time. This is good because I don’t like to be around people that much. The Cold Fury management hooked me and Lucas up when we were both traded to the team in case we wanted to potentially room together until we had time to settle into the area. This seemed like a good idea to me— Lucas as well—so we rented this little house for six months. It’s been good so far and we keep out of each other’s way. But I’d been straight up with him a few days ago when he was telling me about this woman he’s seeing—I think Stephanie’s her name. I’d told him I didn’t make a good friend, which is the truth, and since then he’s not shared anything personal with me. It’s been all, “I’m ordering a pizza…want in on it?” Or, “Dude…it’s your turn to take the garbage out. It’s starting to smell.” Like I said…I’m a procrastinator. I can hear Lucas rustling around in the refrigerator as I keep my eyes on the news. It’s one of the things I’m a little obsessive about and if I’m around a television at six P.M., I’ve got the news on first to catch the local, then to

catch the national. It’s been a habit of mine since I was a little kid, and yes, I was a weird little kid, no thanks to my parents. It’s why I got my ass kicked so much in grade school. There’s a knock at the door and I don’t even flinch. I’m being lazy so I muster up the strength to roll my eyes to look at Lucas. Yeah, he’s definitely got a date tonight. I can tell by the way he’s dressed and his hair is styled. He stares back at me, holding a water bottle in his hand. “Are you going to get the door?” he asks before taking a sip of the water. “Why me?” I drawl. “Um…because you’re closer to it,” he suggests, and that’s true. With a heavy sigh, I roll off the couch and take the three strides to reach the front door. Like I said…this house is tiny, tiny, tiny. I swing the door open, not knowing if it’s a neighbor, a Jehovah’s Witness, or perhaps even a crazed fan. Don’t give a fuck either… whichever it is, they’re not getting my time. My entire body seems to lock for a moment when I take in the beautiful woman standing on the doorstep. She has several pieces of luggage on the porch at her feet and I’ve got to admit, this is the craziest stalker incident I’ve

ever heard of. Too bad she’s crazy because she’s fucking hot as hell. Long brown hair shot through with lighter streaks of brown, and hazel eyes that sparkle with intense curiosity as she watches me. I’m wondering if her fan crush is on me or Lucas. Then it hits me…brown hair, hazel eyes. Fuck…this is Lucas’s sister. I’ve seen the picture of his family on the entertainment unit that houses our living room TV and I recognize her. Sweeping a hand from Lucas’s direction toward Simone, I step back a bit so Lucas can see her and ask him, “Something you’re not telling me?” “That’s my sister,” he says with an eye roll as he walks toward us. Yeah…figured that one out on my own. Just not sure why she’s here at our house. With luggage. I turn to look back at his sister as Lucas walks our way, and I’m momentarily startled by the way she’s checking me out. Eyes actually dragging down my body, and back up again with pure appreciation. If I didn’t have such a hard shell in place, I’d be a little offended that one of my teammate’s family

members would be so obvious, but truth be told…I just don’t give a fuck. “What are you doing here?” Lucas barks at the woman as he comes to the door. I know he told me her name before but fuck if I can remember it. She doesn’t even jolt at her brother’s harsh tone but lazily slides her eyes to him. She gives him a bright smile and then pushes right past me to enter the house. “I’m staying.” As she moves by me, she pats me on the arm and says in a silky, purring voice. “Can you bring those in for me?” Her touch is light, her scent is sweet, and I have no reaction one way or the other. Because I don’t let myself react to the opposite sex like that. Ever. “You’re not staying, Simone,” Lucas says with frustration. “You said you were going back to school.” So her name’s Simone? I suppose the name fits her. Goes well with her light French Canadian accent. I turn to watch the siblings square off, still holding the door open in case Lucas throws her out.

“Changed my mind,” she says firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. Staking her position. “And I can’t stay long term at Max’s because I’m taking up one of the boy’s rooms and he needs it back. I like this area, I love my brothers, so I’m staying.” Lucas straightens up, squares his shoulders and says back just as firmly. “Not here you’re not.” Rather than engage in a pissing contest with her brother, Simone turns to me and actually bats her eyelashes. I can’t help but notice how long and dark they are, framing eyes that seem to heat up when she looks at me. “You don’t mind, do you, big guy?” she asks me, her accent getting heavier, maybe a little silkier as she tries to flirt with me. It does nothing for me frankly, but I also don’t give a shit one way or the other. I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck but you’re not getting my room.” “You’re not getting mine either,” Lucas says quickly. “It’s settled then,” Simone says with a bright smile as she walks with swaying hips to the couch. She drops down on it and there goes my hope of watching the news. “I totally don’t mind sleeping here.”

I make a mental note to pull my TV out of storage. I hadn’t bothered with it before but looks like I won’t be enjoying the TV out here anymore. Lucas merely gives a frustrated sigh of acceptance, his head lowering in defeat. I feel a little sorry for the dude, so I do him a solid and bring the luggage in off the porch. “Be a sweetie,” Simone actually purrs at me with another flutter of her eyelashes and a pursing of her lips, “and put those in Lucas’s room so they won’t be in the way.” I don’t even spare her a glance but merely drop her bags just inside the front door, kicking it shut behind me. With a resigned sigh of my own, I figure I should just head to the gym for a workout. I push past Lucas to the small hallway that leads to the two bedrooms. “I’m Simone by the way,” his sister calls out to me. “Lucas’s little sister.” I don’t respond, and I know it’s rude, but again…don’t care. I step into my bedroom and shut the door behind me. If there was a lock on it, I’d turn it. Not because I don’t feel safe or secure, but I can tell Simone’s a pushy sort of girl and I wouldn’t put it past her to barge in. Because the house is small, even with my

door closed, I can hear Lucas say, “What the fuck are you doing, Simone? This is crazy even by your standards.” I can’t help but smile at that. Apparently my original estimation that the woman on the porch was crazy holds true. “He’s kind of rude, don’t you think?” she responds, talking about me. This actually makes me smile. It’s not the first time I’ve been called rude. There’s also been closed off. Introverted. Asshole. Weird. As I rifle through my drawers for a pair of workout shorts, I listen without shame to their conversation, just a little curious why his sister is here. “Not as rude as you showing up on my porch with luggage saying you’re staying here without asking,” Lucas retorts and adds on, “and not as rude as you deciding not to go back to school after you agreed it was the best thing for you.” “You don’t understand—” “What I understand,” he practically yells at her, “is that you are less than thirty days from

graduating with a bachelor’s degree from a fucking ivy league school and if you go back now, you will not fuck that up. It is absolutely ridiculous for you to think you can step away when you’re this close.” Now that’s interesting. I can’t remember if Lucas ever told me about his sister, but she’s apparently a smarty pants. Ivy league educated and all. It was the only regret I had about entering the NHL at age 18. I had wanted to go to college. I’d had plans to major in psychology. But the opportunity to play professional hockey was too good to pass up, and I figured I could always go to college after I retired. As I locate a pair of shorts, then search for a t-shirt, I can barely hear Simone say, “I’m not that close to graduating.” Whoa…now this is like soap-opera interesting. I snag a t-shirt and move closer to my closed bedroom door so I can listen in. I start to remove my flannel shirt and jeans as I continue to eavesdrop. Simone continues in a tentative voice. “I actually never enrolled for this semester.” “What the everloving fuck?” Lucas barks at her so loud, I wince on her behalf. “How is that even possible?”

“I decided last semester I was just done with school,” she returns quietly. I stop undressing to put my ear closer to the door. “I was achieving a goal that wasn’t mine, but was dad’s.” “It was your goal too,” Lucas snaps at her. “No. It wasn’t. Dad is always the one that pushed medical school at me and well, I just never told him differently, that I didn’t want to be a doctor.” “So you just decided not to finish the last semester of your undergrad? What have you been doing for the last two and a half months?” “Working at a bar off campus,” she says, but I can tell by the slight defensiveness in her voice coupled with how quickly she answered, that’s a very clear lie. I can spot a lie on your face, or in your tone of voice faster than a New York minute. “And the money for your tuition and what mom and dad give you for living expenses?” Lucas grits out. “The tuition’s been refunded; the check was sent to me. As for the living expenses…well, I’ve been using some of the money they put in my account each month to supplement my wages.”

“They are going to fucking kill you,” Lucas says, and that’s when I decide to checkout of the conversation. It was interesting, but it’s not my problem. So it looks like we have another roommate for a bit, but it doesn’t bother me as long as she stays out of my way. And if she gets too intrusive, I can always get on it and buy my own home. I signed a three-year deal with the Cold Fury so I’ll definitely be buying, and my house will be big enough to move Etta here, if I can convince her to leave California. Speaking of which, I finish getting dressed and grab my cellphone off my dresser. I sit on the bed with my back against the headboard and dial her. I imagine at this time of day, she’s probably sitting on her patio reading a book. “Hey you,” she answers, the melody of her sweet voice is the best kind of music to my ears. “What are you doing?” I ask I stretch my legs out on the bed, knowing that it might be the kiss of death to my motivation to hit the gym. “I actually just got back in from a late lunch,” she answers and I hear the mischief in her voice.

“With who?” I ask, marveling at how my voice is different when I talk to her. Teasing. Light. Funny. So not the Van Turner that everyone else sees. “His name is Mark and he’s a veterinarian,” she says in an excited rush. “He’s really nice, and very handsome, and the only thing that’s been a slight turnoff is that his practice specializes in reptiles. I just have this image of going to his house and there being tanks all over the place with lizards and snakes.” I laugh, knowing Etta’s extreme fear of said reptiles. Well, small ones actually. She says it’s the small ones that give her the wiggins. I once found her sitting on the kitchen island of my house because a tiny lizard was loose somewhere in there. “Maybe before you invest any time in him,” I say sagely, “you should ask him about that. Not that I think you’re ready to go to his house after just one lunch date.” My aunt spent her entire life devoted to raising me and never got married. She would always say that was the way she wanted it, but I sometimes wonder if it was just too hard for

a single woman with a kid to find someone she could get serious about. But since I’ve moved to the east coast, she’s started doing a little sporadic dating which has made me happy. I definitely harbor guilt that she lost out on some things in life when she took me on. “What’s going on with you?” she deftly changes the subject, as she considers me to be more important than herself. “Having a lazy day,” I tell her. “With the playoffs clinched, I don’t have much motivation to do anything.” “Slacker,” she says affectionately. “And I’ll assume that the answer to my repeated question if you’re seeing anyone is still the same?” “Still the same,” I tell her. Unless you want to count the strippers I watch at a local titty bar when I have a night off. “Van…you’re missing out on so much,” she chides. “I could say the same about you,” I return softly. “We both had our reasons for hiding away.” “I know,” she says on a soft sigh. “I just want

you to be happy. Maybe you should follow my lead and venture forth.” “I am happy,” I lie to her. I don’t know that I’ve ever been truly happy a day in my life. Well, that’s not true. I was beyond grateful, and it was as close to happy as I could get, when Etta came and told me I was going to live with her forever and ever. As an eightyear-old kid who had been traumatized by his own parents, it was the best gift I’ve ever been given. “Have you gone to see him?” she asks hesitantly, but with the clear distaste in her voice that only comes out when she talks about him. “No,” I tell her softly. “And you’d know if I did because you’d be the first person I would tell.” “You don’t have to,” she says with swift finality. “I know. I’m still considering it.” “You know I’m a good person, Van,” she says with a sigh. “But God help my soul, I hope he dies before you get up the courage.” I can’t help but chuckle. Etta has been my protector and champion forever. Still going strong at it.

“Listen,” I say as I push up from the bed. “If I decide to go, I’ll tell you ahead of time. That will give you an opportunity to talk me out of it, okay?” She gives a small laugh. “Okay. Rotten kid.” Stepping into my closet, I bend over and pick up my gym shoes. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve decided to not be a slug and go workout.” “Maybe you’ll meet a pretty girl there,” she says slyly. “Goodbye, Etta,” I drawl. “I love you, kiddo,” she says with deep affection. “I love you more,” I tell her back truthfully. The only woman I’m sure I’ll ever love. When we disconnect, I put my shoes on and grab my wallet and keys off my dresser. I pocket my cellphone and open my bedroom door. When I step into the hallway, I’m almost mowed over by Simone as she drags her largest suitcase toward Lucas’s room which is just past mine on the opposite side. “Sorry,” she mumbles as she comes to a stop and I step back into my doorway to give her room. I just stare down at her, waiting for her to pass. She doesn’t and stares right back at me.

“Lucas said you’re grumpy,” she says with a curious tilt of her head. “Yup,” I agree. “Hmmm,” she says as if she’s appraising my entire personality. “I’m going to go with brooding. It’s a better fit for the hotness you exude.” “Hotness?” I ask with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh, come on,” she says dramatically and waves her hand up and down at me. Her eyes roam over my body and if I was an oversensitive prude, I’d be offended. But I’m not. “Just look at all you got going on? Big and muscly. And those deep, sensitive eyes filled with mystery. Total hotness and totally broody.” “Whatever you say,” I drawl as I try to step past her. She moves and places herself in my path. “I’m cooking dinner tonight for you and Lucas,” she practically chirps with a bright smile. And fine, I’ll admit it…those two dimples that pucker when she does so add a new level of hotness to her own package. But they don’t sway me. “I’ll pass. I’ll grab something while I’m out.” She stares at me a moment, and I can see the calculation in her eyes. She’s absolutely up

to something and for the life of me I can’t figure out how it could involve me. Maybe she’s just fucking crazy, like originally assumed. Finally, she gives a regal nod of her head and moves to the side. I lower my gaze and move past her, bristling when she murmurs. “Definitely hot and broody. I like it.”

Love stories you’ll never forget By authors you’ll always remember eOriginal Romance from Random House randomhousebooks.com

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