“Everything okay?” It had been a week since I saw her at the practice rink. I had reached for my phone a million times to text her, but other than a few reminders that I existed, I’d left her to think on it. She needed calm, placid energy—not really my wheelhouse—rather than me sending her pictures of every hockey-themed onesie I had come across during my casual Internet searches.
She hadn’t answered yet. If it was no, surely she’d just put me out of my misery.
“Francesca, have you something to tell me?”
She bit her lip. “Perhaps … you should look at the contract first.”
Holy fuckaroo. “Are you saying … yes?”
“I … might be?”
Her eyes rounded behind her glasses, a little fearful, or maybe just asking herself, “what have I done?”
You’ve made my dream come true, that’s what.
Joy slammed through me. I lifted her off the ground and released a yell that let the world know nothing would ever be the same again.
“Jason!”
I placed her on the border wall edging the steps up to my front door.
“You haven’t even seen the contract yet!”
“I don’t care. That’s just the details. We’re actually doing this!”
My hands were on her hips, holding her in place on the wall, and because I was close, her thighs naturally parted, like they had no choice when faced with my enthusiasm. I had been in this position before with women, and it had never not led to more interesting positions. Sexual ones.
I really should release her, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay in this perfect moment when the anticipation of our enterprise had yet to run into cold, hard reality. There was a baby to be made, a life to create, a wave of joy to surf. From here on out, we would be linked together inextricably.
She had moved her hands to my chest, not pushing me away, just pressing slightly, as if to test my muscles. Test away, baby.
“What tipped you over? Saw me out on the ice and figured, ‘that’s the one’?”
“Sure, that was it.” She chuckled before morphing into her usual stoic self. Serious business, baby-making. “You really should read the contract before you get too excited.”
“Too late. You’ve found your guy.”
No way in hell was Franky St. James skipping out on this deal. I was already all in.
“You’re going to wear out the floorboards.”
I stopped pacing my living room and turned to Lauren. I’d known this woman since we first met at Rebels Youth Hockey Camp almost twenty-five years ago. That was a crazy summer—I had just connected with Theo and Lauren had just met her half-sister, Sadie, for the first time, after their dad was imprisoned for embezzlement. Lo had been a terror to Sadie during a tricky time, but they worked it out. By the end of the summer, we were the best of friends, Sadie had fallen in love with former Rebel Gunnar Bond, and I had fully gelled with my new brother.
Lauren and I both went on to successful careers in pro hockey. She retired from the Chicago Athenas at the ancient age of twenty-eight and had since become an agent, about to start her own boutique outfit. People said you shouldn’t mix business and friendship, but I had never doubted that Lauren had my back when it came to managing my career and advising me both personally and professionally.
Though she wasn’t a family law expert, she had one on tap, who had gone over Franky’s contract and suggested some changes. I had assumed we could do this between-friends, sign-on-a-cocktail-napkin style, but I had no idea how complicated it could get. Medical care, schooling, the kid’s living arrangements, even holidays—all of it had to be negotiated before my sperm met her egg.
As for the mingling of body fluids, and how that would take place, that was a whole other test tube of sperm.
“She should be here by now,” I said as Lauren leaned back on my sofa and eyed me critically. “What?”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“Franky would make a great mom.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting that this is your first line of defense. I never thought she wouldn’t, but maybe you’re worried that people will see the two of you as co-parents and wonder ‘how did that happen?’”
“Is that why you think it’s weird?”
