Page 48

THIRTY-EIGHT

HANNAH

With a roll of his hips, he sinks into me, and I ? —

“Knock-knock.”

Biting back a growl, I save my Word document and close it out. I’ll get back to my characters later.

“Is now a bad time?” Liv asks from the doorway.

Exhaling, I wave her in. “Never.”

It absolutely is, but it’s probably best not to tell my direct supervisor that I was in the middle of writing a scene where my heroine is getting railed by the single dad with a choking kink. The season might be over, but my job with the Revs is year-round and does not include writing spicy books during office hours.

The Revs didn’t make it to the World Series, so our season has officially come to an end. Liv and Beckett spent a week in the Florida Keys, so her cheeks are rosy and her smile is bright. God, how I would love a real vacation. Maybe after the baby is born, sometime between Bolts and Revs games in the spring, we can find two to three days to get away.

Who am I kidding? The All-Star break is literally the only time each year we’ll be off at the same time. That thought is sobering.

And really sad.

Liv settles across from me, crossing one leg over the other. “How are you feeling?”

Instinctually, I settle a hand on my stomach, where our son is pummeling my bladder. He hates when I sit still. “The exhaustion has gotten better, and now I’m just—” I snap my mouth shut before the word horny slips out. Liv may be awesome, and I’m sure Beckett keeps her satisfied, but it’s probably not appropriate to talk about my sex life with my boss. “I’m ready to have this baby.”

“Yeah, when I was pregnant with the twins, I was over it by the end of the sixth month. Now, sometimes I’d like to just slip them back inside so I can get some peace and quiet.” She chuckles. “When’s your due date again?”

“January twentieth.”

Liv nods. “I thought I’d check in to talk to you about what you’re thinking for after maternity leave. You plan to take the full six months Langfield Corp offers, right?”

A gasp escapes me before I can stop it. “You offer six months?” I probably should have checked the employee handbook sometime during the last five months, but I just…didn’t.

“Yeah, Beckett changed the policy right after I had the twins. I don’t think he understood how difficult taking care of newborns can be until I tried to come back to work after three months.”

Shit, was she really out for six months? I was probably too busy cleaning up after Jasper to notice. “Wow. Well, yeah. That’s great.” I clear my throat. “I’ll look into a day care, and I guess Daniel and I can figure out where to go from there.”

“Hannah,” Liv says, her voice gentle as she leans forward, “daycares don’t keep babies overnight.”

Hackles rising, I splay my hands on my desk. “I’ll figure it out. You have five kids, and somehow, you did it.”

Liv shakes her head. “No. I was head of Langfield PR. I only traveled with the team here and there—and only because Beckett demanded it back when, apparently, he was obsessed with me and I didn’t have a clue. I couldn’t have traveled all season and raised my kids. It’s a job meant for someone without a family.” She shrugs. “Or a man.”

A mixture of fear and frustration and, yeah, a little anger, swirl in my stomach. “Can you even say that?”

She frowns. “No. Not as your employer. But we’re friends too, and I want to be honest with you. Certain jobs are impossible when you have young kids. You can’t travel for two-thirds of the year once you have this baby.”

Chest tightening, I blink back tears. “So am I going to lose my job? That’s illegal, isn’t it? You can’t fire me because I’m pregnant.”

“Honey, no.” She leans forward. “After your maternity leave, you’ll transition into another role. A role that doesn’t require nearly so much travel. That’s what I’m going to offer you, at least. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do.”

I inhale deeply, then let the breath out a little at a time, willing my nerves to settle. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course. This isn’t a demotion. We value your work above all else, and no matter what you decide, you’ll always have a spot here. You can have it all. I promise. But sometimes having it all looks a little different once you have a family. Does that make sense?”

I nod. She’s right. I can’t continue to travel like this. But even if I haven’t loved my job so much these days, and even if I miss Daniel when I’m gone—and know it will be ten times worse to leave him and my child next season—I don’t know if I can step away from the job I worked so hard for.

I wander Boston for far too long, avoiding my apartment while a war rages in my head. I have to have a plan in mind before I talk to anyone about this. But before I come up with a plan, I need to process my feelings about the loss of my career. Or the massive overhaul of it, at the very least. I have to come to terms with all the changes coming down the pike.

Because whether or not I’m ready, they’re coming. Fast.

Something Liv said stuck with me. She said my job isn’t a good fit for women with children, yet she implied that a man could do it. She’s not wrong. I haven’t heard a single person mention to Daniel that he can’t play hockey now that we’re having a baby. In our society, we assume that the mother will be the one to give up her career.

Even if I’m not happy at work at the moment, I’m still angry at the societal expectations. Those two things can be true at the same time. I’m allowed to not want to do this anymore while also being annoyed that I can’t do this anymore.

I won’t even get a proper goodbye. The season is over, and when it starts again, I’ll be on maternity leave. I’ll never travel with the Revs as their PR rep again.

But no matter how I slice it, there’s no way I can travel with the team. I can’t rush out in the middle of the night to deal with problems, especially when Daniel is traveling.

These are just facts.

Facts that make me irrationally angry.

Which is why I’m still walking after seven when my phone rings and Noah asks if I plan to be home for dinner.

Shit. I try to spend evenings at home when he and Oliver are there.

He and Jen have made it work, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Jen harbors some resentment about Noah’s busy schedule.

I ball my fists and growl in aggravation. Why does this have to be so hard?

I’m angry at Daniel over something that isn’t his fault. If I told him how I was feeling, he’d tell me if I wanted to keep my job, we’d figure it out. He’d hire a nanny to travel with me. And if that didn’t work, I wouldn’t put it past him to give up his dream so he could be home with the baby while I’m gone.

I shake my head and blow out a breath. My muscles relax a fraction as that truth registers with me. Sometimes I forget that I’m not doing this alone.

I head home to talk to Noah before I call Daniel and say something I might regret. I know that man will put me first, so I better figure out what I truly want before I let him do that.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

I push the plate of pasta Noah set in front of me to the side. It takes effort, because Noah’s pasta is homemade. He’s kind of a genius in the kitchen, so not diving in when my mouth is watering is a feat of its own.

“I need to talk to you.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “So talk.”

He settles across from me and smiles. He’s not the kind of guy who smirks, but if he were, he’d probably do it right now. I’m being a brat. Luckily, he knows how to deal with me.

So, with that simple expression still on his face, he hums. “You okay?”

Leg bouncing, I wait for the bomb he’s going to drop. I can feel it in the air. Everyone is dropping bombs today. “Get on with it. What do you have to tell me?” I force a smile. It’s not his fault I’m having an atomic bomb kind of day. “ Please .”

Angling forward, he rests his arms on the edge of the table. “I found an apartment.”

My back goes ramrod straight. “But you live here.”

Brows creased, he tilts his head. “Hannah, you need the space for the baby.”

“Is this because of all the sex?” I huff. “I know I’ve been obnoxious, but I can actually be quiet.”

He drops his head and laughs. “No. I got headphones a long time ago. And I know how you are. I’d never want you to change,” he adds when I scowl. “You and Daniel need your own space.” He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “The two of you are doing this, Hannah, and I’m so fucking happy for you. You’re creating a family, and that man? He loves you so fucking much that I have no concern that once I’m gone, he’ll take care of you.”

I look away, hiding the tear sliding down my face. What he’s saying is true. Every single thing. But everything is changing, and it’s happening so fast.

“I’ll just miss you.” I inhale deeply, wipe at my cheek, then force myself to look at him. “And Oliver. As it is, I barely see him.”

Noah grins. “I forgot to tell you the best part about the apartment. It’s right across the hall.”

The heavy despair pushing down on me lifts. I scramble to my feet and throw myself into Noah’s arms. “Oh, thank god.”

He rubs slow circles over my back. “You’ve got this. You are going to be the best mom, and Daniel is going to be one hell of a dad. And I’ll be right across the hall if you need me.”

I suck in a breath. Just like Liv said, some things have to change. Having it all will look different from now on. I can either embrace it or fight it. And there’s no sense in fighting. Not when the baby will be here soon, whether I’m ready or not. And I’d rather be ready.