Page 5

Chapter Two

Lars

I think she just said this kid was mine.

She said something else, about not being able to do this , whatever this was, but for now I had to focus on the first part of the shit equation.

This kid was … mine ?

Because Vicki had omitted pertinent details about her relationship status the first time we met, my reaction was slow. Should I take it at face value? Assume it was a shakedown? Laugh at the fact my teammates were yanking my nerves-taut chain?

People were starting to pay attention now. A woman had just handed a baby to a professional hockey player in a bar, dropped a bag, and was now backing away.

As in dumping and dashing.

A baby.

I finally found my voice. “You need to explain this.”

“What’s to explain? Sometimes condoms fail.” She took another step back, a prelude to a breakaway.

I moved to follow her, like a tiger stalking prey, but a zombified one who was only learning to lurch. The baby was starting to feel heavier than the pit of dread forming in my gut.

So many questions. I tried to prioritize them into immediate need-to-knows.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“I’ll be in touch in a few days.” She turned tail and fled.

I couldn’t chase her down, not with this new weight in my arms. I turned to Adeline. “Could you hold it?”

To be honest, I could have asked anyone else nearby. A teammate, a bartender, hell, Theo Kershaw had more experience with babies than anyone else I knew. But something innate knew that Adeline would know what to do.

My confidence was rewarded when she jumped into the fray with no hesitation and accepted the bundle into her safe embrace. Instinctively, I took an extra couple of seconds to make sure the little one was settled and ignored that peculiar shift in my chest at the sight of Adeline holding her.

If she was really mine …

“Vicki!” I quickstepped out of there and caught up with her outside the bar, which was probably better. Less teammate interference and more chance to scream my head off without some looky-loo filming it.

“I need an explanation here.”

She turned, teary-eyed, and my heart melted a fraction.

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t run. Let’s talk about this.”

“I-I can’t. My husband just found out that she’s not his. He said I had to give her up and you know, Lars, I’m not ready to be a mom! She’s already ruined my figure, and Brad says he wants the woman he married back.”

Okay, that was a lot.

“Your husband is making you give up your child?”

“He’s not the bad guy here! But I have to choose, and he comes first.” She glared at me. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what? Like you’ve blown up my world? Like you went months without telling me I’m a dad? Like you’ve just dropped off a baby like an Uber Eats delivery? Like that?”

More tears. “Don’t shout at me! I’ve had too many people shouting at me lately!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” That I was the one apologizing pissed me off, but I could tell she was walking a razor’s edge. “Can we go back inside and talk about it? Or go get coffee somewhere?”

“Maybe in a couple of days.” She turned to a waiting cab.

Not only had this woman dumped a kid on me and already had her getaway planned, she hadn’t shown a drop of interest about where her child was this very moment. My sympathy dried on the spot.

“Vicki, you can’t do this.” Because I was having a hard time picking the primary reason from the million reasons why she couldn’t do this, I added weakly, “I don’t even have your number.”

“I left it with the bag. A few days, okay?” She opened the cab’s door and clambered inside.

Before she could shut it, I yelled, “At least tell me the kid’s name.”

“Mabel.”

And then she was gone.

I’m not sure how long I stood outside, but long enough to feel a chill that couldn’t be credited to the October weather.

Had I ever considered fatherhood? Sure, every guy thinks on it occasionally, maybe more than that if you’re in a serious relationship with commitment and a future on the cards.

But that wasn’t me. That was never likely to be me.

With my genetics and upbringing, I wouldn’t have dreamed of inflicting that on a kid.

A hand landed on my shoulder, and my first instinct was: Adeline . When I turned, Kershaw was standing there, his eyebrow raised in semi-permanent shock.

“What the fuck just happened, dude?”

Here was the thing about Theo Kershaw. He was almost a decade older than me, a family man, the definition of responsibility, and he still sounded like a bro. It didn’t make him an idiot, but he was one of the guys and I loved him for it.

“She said that kid is mine.”

Theo blew out a breath. “That’s mighty fucked up.”

“Yep.” I had no words beyond that terse reply. What came next? I prayed my teammate and good friend would have some ideas. The man was usually full of them.

“She just skedaddled? Are you going to see her again?”

“In a few days, she said. She’s married and she’s been lying to her husband about the paternity.”

“Aw, hell, that’s not good.”

“No, it is not. How do I even know that kid is mine?”

“Well, you don’t. Not yet, but that’s easy enough to verify.” He squeezed my shoulder. “First things first.”

I eyed him expectantly. Tell me all the things, Kershaw.

“There’s a baby in that bar that could be yours, so you have to step up and take care of her, friend. But know that you’re not alone.”

It sure felt like I was. But I trusted Kershaw to have my back.

Adeline

Lars was a father.

Hard to believe, but the evidence was here before me, literally in my arms. The mother must have been in pretty dire straits to drop this on her baby daddy like that. He had looked so shocked, and who could blame him? The woman hadn’t breathed a word.

Rosie moved in, her dark eyes wide with wonder.

“If someone had told me it happened I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“I know. It’s kind of nuts.”

“Absolutely. And how are you on the hook for holding the kid?”

“I was on the spot. What was I supposed to do—drop her?”

The baby gurgled a little and gave what looked like a smile, though maybe that was gas. Here in the middle of all this craziness, she was the calmest one in the place.

“You need to sit down.” Rosie pointed at Dash Carter, the Rebels left winger, who was seated at one of the corner tables near the darts board. “Carter, make room for the woman with the child!”

Dash jumped up just as his fiancée Summer Landry appeared, her face agog. “Whose baby is this?”

“Nyquist’s.” Dash smirked at Summer. “Don’t be getting any ideas, babe. Let’s get the wedding done first.”

Summer blushed. “Did I say anything? Here, let’s sit you down.”

I didn’t know the pretty blonde all that well, but I’d always liked her.

She was assistant to Ryder Calloway, the Rebels’ general manager, and was getting married to Dash when this season ended.

She budged up beside me while Rosie stood, shielding us from the rest of the bar.

Everyone was eying us with interest and who could blame them? I was holding Lars Nyquist’s baby.

“Hey, Ro, grab that bag, would you?”

The mom had left what looked like a diaper bag at Lars’s feet. Rosie picked it up and placed it on the table.

Summer looked at us both. “Should we open it—okay, then.”

Rosie was already unzipping and rifling through the contents. Diapers, a couple of baby bottles, formula, a few onesies.

“Anything identifying?”

“Like a baby passport?” Rosie smirked. “Or the kid’s driver’s license?”

“We don’t even know her name.”

Summer stroked under the baby’s chin. “She’s so dang cute.”

The little one wore a yellow onesie with a picture of a baby bottle and the slogan, “It’s 5 a.m. somewhere.” Summer tickled the baby and earned another grin. “Baby Larina? Or maybe Baby Nyquista?”

“Here we go. A birth certificate.” Rosie held up a piece of paper.

“Mabel—aw! Born on …” She did the calculations in her head.

“Just turned seven months. And the mother is Vicki Stevenson with the dad’s name listed as Michael Stevenson.

I bet that guy isn’t too happy. He thought he was a dad and now, uh oh. ”

Speaking of fathers … “Any sign of my dad?”

Rosie scanned the bar. “Pretty sure I saw him follow Lars out. He’s probably giving him the fatherhood spiel now. Or the kiss of life after the poor guy passed out from shock.”

I didn’t doubt it. My dad had a lot of experience, and he was both the captain and the oldest guy on the team, so that accorded him elder statesman status. Everyone looked to him for advice, comfort, and leadership.

A tall, dark, and instantly recognizable figure appeared at Rosie’s side. I hadn’t seen my brother in person in over a year and usually I’d be up to give him a hug, but the baby.

“What the fuck, Addy?”

“Language, Dino Boy. Baby ears.”

“Did you just come home from traveling the world with a … kid?”

Rosie nudged Hatch. “Not hers, dickhead. And hello? Great to see you, too.”

“Damn, sorry. I just saw the baby and—” He pulled Rosie into his arms. “Hey, Ro, it’s so good to see you.”

I pretended not to notice how Rosie closed her eyes and inhaled in Hatch’s embrace.

I called out, “You can hug me later, H.”

Rosie pulled away first, which was good for her mental health, though who knew if it made a difference. Crushes were a blight, for sure.

Summer laughed, a musical tinkle. “Did you really think your sister hid a baby from you all year?”

Hatch’s smiling expression shifted to stormy at Summer’s words. For some reason, he didn’t like her, and he was terrible at hiding it.

Ignoring Summer, he addressed me. “You want to fill me in?”

“NyQuil’s in big trouble.” Dash had returned, a beer in his hand, ready for the gossip. “Some chick waltzed in, handed over the kid, and waltzed out again. He chased after her and now, no sign of him. Real soap opera stuff.”

My brother whistled. “That’s wild.”

“Right?” Dash jerked his chin toward the bar’s entrance. “Looks like he decided not to do a runner after all.”

The crowd parted as Lars returned, resolute focus on his face, grim determination in his tread. My father walked behind him, the mental and emotional support this surprise dad needed. Rosie stepped aside to let Lars get closer.

He looked down.

I looked up.

Our eyes locked and the intensity in his gaze shivered through me. Not that it was for me. It was for the baby. The situation. Maybe even the woman who had just left.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

My heart went out to him, forced to be so vulnerable in front of all these people. I wanted to protect him and the best way to do that was to take this somewhere private.

I stood, still holding the child, who seemed to be getting heavier with each passing second. “She’s fine. Let’s find somewhere to talk, okay?”

Look at me taking charge! Rosie narrowed her eyes at me. I fixed on a smile. “Ro, could you pack that bag up for Lars?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” She restuffed the baby paraphenalia haphazardly and handed the diaper bag to a stunned Lars.

I caught my dad’s eye, who was watching me with a curious amusement. “Dad, do you think we could use the back office?”

No slouch, he grabbed the bag from Lars, curled a hand around his arm, and said, “Let’s go.”

A minute later we were in the back office of the Empty Net.

My dad took the baby from me and started cooing away while Lars watched.

He hadn’t said a word since asking if she was okay and now, he was standing at the door, hands crossed defensively against that superhero chest, probably wondering how his world could have blown up in such spectacular style.

“Did you catch up with her?”

He turned to me, as if surprised I’d spoken. “Vicki? Yeah. She’s out.”

“Oh. Wow.”

My dad looked up from making raspberry sounds. “She told her husband the kid was his. He found out she was not. And now we’re here.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” Lars rubbed his mouth. Now probably wasn’t the time to get puritanical about the swearing. “What’s my play here?”

“I suppose you could call social services or …” I trailed off at the look of horror on my dad’s face. “You have to come up with a plan.”

Dad took a seat at the desk, still with the baby in his arms. “We have tons of stuff left over from Tilly. A crib. Stroller. Everything you need for a baby. We never got around to donating it.”

Lars glared at him. “I can buy stuff for the kid. That’s not the problem here. The problem, in case you haven’t noticed, is that I have a full-time fucking job that involves time on the road, so I’m not seeing how I can take care of her and play hockey.”

My dad grinned, like these were nonsense obstacles.

“Don’t worry about that. We can help and there are a million people in this org who’ll have your back.

For tonight, we’re going to take her home to our place and get her fed and changed.

She doesn’t stink yet but give it time.” He nuzzled the baby’s forehead. “Right, future poopy pants?”

He sounded so calm, exactly what Lars needed to hear. The panic hadn’t quite left his expression, but his shoulders softened a degree.

“I can’t ask you for that.” But it emerged half-heartedly because he really needed someone to take the reins.

“You’re not. Ellie will help.” He winked. “If my baby mama could have another kid this week, she would totally do it.”

I pointed at him. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

“Best not, Twinkle.” His gaze dipped to the baby and damn, he looked cute holding her. Even Lars appeared transfixed, though that could be a residual stunning effect.

“Listen, I should give Elle a heads up,” Dad said. “Addy, would you hold her for a second?” My dad had evidently decided Lars wasn’t ready for prime time.

“No problem.” I took over while he headed outside to call Mom.

Which left me alone with Lars and his daughter.

The silence was deafening; not even a baby gurgle to break the tension.

Back in the bar—pre-baby bombshell—we had made great progress, with both of us acknowledging my crush and its beautiful demise.

I’d never felt so adult. Now we were mired in another, albeit different, quagmire.

Nervously, I filled the void with some babbling of my own. “She’s so good!”

Lars brooded away in the corner.

I tried again. “Did you want to hold her?”

“Might not be a good idea.”

“No?”

His expression turned even more stern. “I won’t be keeping her.”