“My column, where I detail the things a woman shouldn’t do, even if they’re somehow working for me?” I scoff. “Or maybe you’re justtaking a relationship at a normal pace and not molding your life around that of a man’s since he’s as busy as you are.”
Sutton hums noncommittally. “Maybe. But this call isn’t about me. You need help coming up with more what-not-to-do ideas, huh?”
“You should invite him to spend Christmas with you,” Josie says.
I lower the phone and pin her with a glare. “No.”
She shrugs. “Chances are he’s going to be at the Langfields Christmas Eve party anyway, and since Addie has claimed you this year?—”
“Yes, like I’m a puppy the three of you pass around,” I say with a laugh.
“You know it’s not like that,” she says, her head tilted and her lips turned down. “We all just want to spend the day with you.”
I give her a small smile. My friends make sure I don’t feel like the girl without a family by acting like they’re fighting over me instead. Last year I spent Christmas with the Warrens, but this year Addie asked me first.
I blow out a breath, my phone back at my ear. “You really think Camden will be there?”
Josie nibbles on her lip. “He’s kind of like you in that way. He’s always in Boston for the holidays rather than with his family. And since Camden is attached to Daniel at the hip, and Daniel’s twin married into the Langfield family, he’s always done the holidays with them.”
Lips pressed together, I consider it. “I don’t think it’ll cut it for the article. Doesn’t sound like asking him to spend the holiday with me will freak him out.”
She scrunches her nose and huffs. “What is something that Camden is super into that we could use to freak him out?”
I snort. “I barely know anything about the guy, other than he loves hockey and he’s great in bed.”
Josie’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, I have the best idea.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
CAMDEN
This timewhen I pull up in front of Savannah’s building, I’m far less nervous. I’m also wondering what the hell I’m doing coming back here.
Without the bet hanging over my head, I don’t know that I’d be pursuing Savannah like this. Or would I? If I’d been asked the question a few days ago, I’d have said the bet has nothing to do with my need to see her. I like her. A lot.
But after the ovulation calendar thing…I don’t know. It was so bizarre. And so unlike the woman I’ve been getting to know. Sure, over the years, women have tried to trap me in relationships. Not because of me as a person, but because they wanted the fame. The money. The supposed perks that would come with being the baby mama of a pro hockey player.
I don’t get it. Maybe because I’ve seen what true love looks like and I’d never settle for anything less than that. All my lifelong friends have found it. Aiden and Lennox have the kind of love that’s legendary. Brooks and Sara started it all. Brooks fell hard for Sara when she was the head of PR for the Bolts and he was our goalie. Now she’s theorganization’s CEO, and she’s one of the coolest chicks I know. Funny as fuck too.
War and Ava have a wild story. Daniel and Hannah too. Even Noah found an epic love. It didn’t come easy at all, because his wife was the team’s CEO back in our day, as well as Aiden and Brooks’s baby sister. Screwing with a teammate’s sister is a no. Not even up for discussion. And yet he won her over, and now he’s the Bolts’ GM and married to the love of his life.
If love like that exists, then why in God’s name would anyone want to marry for money and a little magazine time?
My radar for gold diggers is impeccable after all these years. I can tell right away when a woman is only interested in my fame and what I can buy her, and I did not peg Savannah as that kind of woman at all.
But what is she after? Could it really be that she took my comment about how I once thought I wanted kids and got the wrong idea? Maybe this is my fault. After that, I even asked about her damn birth control and said it would be fine for now.
And I can’t even fucking say I made the comment in the heat of the moment, because with any other woman, I’d never even consider the threat of knocking her up as a way to turn up the heat in the bedroom.
Never have I imagined a woman pregnant with my child and considered the notion sexy.
But envisioning Savannah, belly slightly rounded and a smile on her face? Imagining her with a newborn with dark red hair in her arms? I can picture the late nights and the early mornings. I can picture the house, the life, and the love. And none of it fucking scares me. In fact, while I sit in my car, parked on the curb, my mind creating a fantasy that involves a family with Savannah, I’m fucking hard as steel.
So maybe it’s not so fucking scary that she’s thinking about it too.
I adjust myself, take a deep breath, and snag the bottles of wine from the back seat. I’m not any closer to figuring her out, and I’m here, so I’ll go inside, act normal, and hope that she doesn’t pull out a pregnancy test or a baby bottle tonight.
If she does, then I really will have to leave. Bet or no bet. These feelings be damned.
