Page 10 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)

BUT I DIDN’T RECOGNIZE RASMUS WITH HIS CLOTHES ON

HAISLEY

T he past week has been a whirlwind of emotions.

I’ve spent sleepless nights going over every possibility and choice.

I’m truly blessed to live in a state where I have options—a privilege I don’t take lightly.

It’s a comfort to know I could choose differently and still get treated without any consequences.

But deep down, I already know my decision: I want to keep this baby.

At my age, waiting for a perfect guy to build a family with feels more like chasing a dream than a realistic plan.

Once I admitted that to myself, my decision felt even more fitting.

Having two parents isn’t a requirement for a family—love and commitment are.

And I already feel that love blooming inside me, growing stronger with every passing day.

But along with it, another feeling grows too—a familiar, gnawing fear.

The same fear that’s lived inside me since I lost my biological mother when I was a little girl.

The fear of loving someone so deeply, only to lose them tragically.

And I already love this baby beyond words.

I don’t know what I would do if something went wrong with the pregnancy.

To ease my nerves, I did everything I could to track down the masked man who helped create the new life growing inside me.

But the club wouldn’t release the CCTV footage without a warrant, and the hotel refused to disclose who had booked the room.

Without the help from those two places, I quickly ran out of options.

The father of the baby will remain a mystery.

Now, I must find a way to tell my family about the exciting yet shocking news.

Knowing my dad, he won’t be too thrilled to find out that his only daughter, his princess, is knocked up after a one-night stand.

But he’ll still support me no matter what.

Like my mom, he’ll be super excited to have a grandbaby to spoil.

My brothers will probably follow Dad’s lead and be the best uncles to their first niece or nephew.

The news will have to wait for now. Today marks the 75 th anniversary of the Peacocks.

The hockey team my great-grandfather founded in the late forties is a cornerstone of my father’s side of the family.

From the beginning, my family has not only owned the team but also played key roles in its management, which is rare.

Dad is the current GM, and one of my younger three brothers also works for the organization.

Thanks to our family's longstanding rule, the other two play for different teams: no relatives suit up for the Peacocks on ice.

Even though I’m proud of my American side of the family for building a successful hockey franchise, working in sports has never been my dream. That’s why I’ve stayed out of the business, even if I’m set to inherit a piece of it someday.

I was five when my dad became the GM following the sudden passing of his father, my Pappy, only eight months after my mother tragically died in a boating accident.

Until then, my dad had worked from home, bringing me along to various work events if needed.

But with his new role, he needed help, and that's when Gloria came into our lives permanently.

She became my first and only nanny, and, well… the rest is history.

Almost thirty years later, Gloria is now who I call Mom. We may not share blood, but after my dad and Gloria got married and had three boys—my brothers—calling her Mom feels right.

As we head towards my family estate on Long Island, where the party is held, I ask the driver to stop twice due to morning sickness, which really should be named all-the-fucking-time sickness.

I already had to cancel an important work meeting earlier this week because of puking my guts out. I don’t want to cancel tonight as well.

“Is everything okay, Miss Haisley?” Osmond asks, worry evident in his voice.

“Um, yeah, I think I ate something that isn’t sitting right with me.”

As we continue down the road, I press my fingers to my temples, trying to will away the nausea. That should have been the first clue I was pregnant when it started weeks ago. But no, it took a visit to my doctor’s to even suspect that possibility.

I can feel Osmond’s concerned gaze in the rearview mirror, but I don’t have the energy to reassure him right now.

He’s always been this way—on edge when something feels off.

I guess it’s part of the job when you’re employed by a family such as mine—a family with more money than they can spend in their lifetime.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my stomach. “Seriously, I’ll be fine. Just need a minute. ”

Osmond nods but doesn’t say anything. I bet he’s calculating how long it’ll take us to get to the estate. He’s never been the type to push or question me, but I can tell he’s itching to get me there. Ignoring him, I add another coat of that same red lipstick I wore on Halloween.

I wonder what happened to the note that I left behind, because he never called.

It takes us another thirty minutes of awkward silence before we’re outside the main entrance of my family home. As expected, there are beautiful lights and other decorations that welcome you in. My mom loves to decorate for every occasion.

Hendrix and Hunter, my youngest two brothers born only eleven months apart, are standing by the door waiting for us.

Hendrix, the more outgoing of the two, spots the car first and waves energetically.

Hunter stands a few steps behind his Irish twin, his arms crossed over his chest, but there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips.

As the car comes to a stop, Osmond gets out to open my door, and I step out slowly. The fresh air helps the queasiness in my stomach, but I still feel awful.

“Hey sis,” Hendrix calls as he jogs toward me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything okay?”

Hunter stays where he is, eyes scanning me with curious intensity. It’s always been this way with him. I hope he won’t notice my pregnancy before I have a chance to tell my family.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit off today,” I say, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing to worry about. I bet I’ll be fine after a few glasses of bubbly.”

Hendrix looks concerned for a heartbeat but then shrugs it off. “ Well, I’m sure Mom has you covered. She ordered a shit ton of champagne from France for the party alone.”

Normally, I would be the first to have a glass, but I can’t in my current situation. Still, I smile at my brother, pretending everything is okay.

When the door closes behind us, I hear music and chatter from the other side of the house. The smell of food fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of flowers that Mom always insists on having at every event. All of it makes me feel sick once again.

“Hey, you sure you’re okay?” Hunter’s voice is low, a little too soft for my liking, suggesting he senses something is off.

I turn around, forcing my shoulders to relax. “Yeah, Hunt. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Something’s up. You’re acting weirder than usual.” He takes a step closer. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” I say quietly, forcing my voice to sound steady. “I’ll be fine, trust me. Today’s been such a long day, and I’m not in the mood for a big celebration, I guess.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’m right here.”

“Thanks, little brother.”

He gives me one last look, but he doesn’t say anything, leaving me alone. I can’t help but wonder how long I’ll be able to keep up this charade.

It doesn’t take long for my dad to spot me. His expression softens as he starts walking toward me, signaling someone to my right to come over.

A deep voice answers, smooth and achingly familiar. The sound freezes me in place. No. It can’t be. There’s no way.

But when I turn and get the first glimpse of the person in question, all hope of denial slips away. My stomach tightens as I watch him approach, his stride confident and effortless, exactly as I remembered.

Fuck. It’s really him .

Those deep brown eyes I’ve been dreaming about since Halloween meet mine. For a second or two, time seems to stop, the world shrinking to this moment. Then his pupils dilate, and his chest rises with a sharp breath, confirming what I already know—he recognizes me, too.

It can’t be. But it’s him. My masked stranger . The man I thought I would never see again. The man better known as the father of my unborn child. My hand instinctively moves over my stomach with that thought. His eyes follow the movement until he quickly glances away.

How did I not recognize him that night? Sure, his beard was gone, and the mask concealed some of his features, but now? It’s glaringly obvious who I slept with. No wonder he seemed familiar.

My heart pounds as I take him in, hoping this is some cruel joke. But the few tattoos peeking from beneath his shirt sleeves—including the number 19 on his left wrist—are unmistakable. They’re the same ones I traced with my fingers that fateful night in late October.

Well, shit. I’m totally screwed, and not in a good way .

I must be imagining things. I wasn’t that drunk…was I? Maybe it was the endless champagne clouding my memory and judgment. Who am I kidding? I honestly wanted to have a stranger fuck my brains out. For once, I can’t blame alcohol, especially since I got my wish and way more.

“Haisley, sweetie, meet Rasmus Westerholm.” My dad’s voice snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts. “He’s my new star player who got traded last week. Rasmus, this is my daughter, Haisley.”

I can barely process what’s happening. My dad has no idea about the baby. Rasmus, definitely not Masked Man , has no idea either. But by the end of tonight, one of them will. And the other…well, let’s say I’m hoping my dad doesn’t somehow find out before Rasmus does.

Whoever had ‘Meet your baby daddy under the most awkward circumstances imaginable’ on their bingo card for 2024 wins this round. Me? I didn’t see this one coming. I’m officially the loser of the year with only fifty weeks to go.

I can’t believe he’s here. How did this happen?

Well, never mind. We all know how. This is what happens when I decide to let loose for one night—no rules, no expectations, only fun between me and a mysterious stranger with an accent.

Too bad that stranger turned out to be a hockey player. Not just any hockey player, though.

Rasmus Westerholm. The infamous former hothead who used to fight with Jasper ?kerman every chance he got. My dad’s new pride and joy on the team. And now, apparently, my freaking baby daddy. This is going to be a disaster.

“It's you,” I finally choke out .

My dad turns and looks at me. “You know each other, Princess?”

I hesitate, scrambling for words. “Uh, yeah, we’ve met before,” I tell him, trying to hide the fact that I have seen his star player naked. Then, like an idiot, I blurt, “but I didn't recognize Rasmus with his clothes on.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, the air shifts around us. My dad freezes, and Rasmus’ eyebrows shoot up in amused surprise. All I want is to melt into the floor. Did I seriously say that?

“I mean, uh, I’m used to seeing him on the ice. In his uniform. That’s what I meant!” I shout, my cheeks feeling hot.

Rasmus chuckles, his deep voice rumbling, making my insides melt. “It’s great to see you again, Haisley. ”

Oh fuck, why does my name sound so damn sexy on those tempting lips?

“You too,” I reply, swallowing hard as he offers his hand.

I take it, the brief contact sending a jolt of electricity through me.

His touch lingers a second too long, and it causes a tingling sensation to spread all over my body.

My traitorous body betrays me with an unwanted shiver that doesn’t go unnoticed based on his cocky smirk.

My dad clears his throat, breaking the tension hanging between us. “Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. Rasmus, make sure you’re ready for practice tomorrow. Don’t have too much fun tonight, eh?”

He claps Rasmus on the shoulder, and with one last glance between us, he strides off, leaving me standing awkwardly with the man I never thought I would see again .

Rasmus crosses his arms, lips quirking up in another smirk that’s equally infuriating and so damn attractive.

“So, Haisley ,” he drawls, his slight accent making my name sound even more melodic.

“Care to explain what just happened? Because I’m pretty sure you don’t want your dad to know how his Princess likes to get her sweet pussy stretched by one of his players. ”

I glare at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. It was one night. A mistake,” I get out between my teeth. “I clearly had no idea who you were back then.”

He chuckles, low and smooth. And that does something to my insides. “Didn’t seem like a mistake at the time.”

I flinch, my hand flying to my stomach. “Sorry, but I need to find the ladies’ room.”

Rasmus’s eyes narrow slightly as he steps close, blocking my path. “Running away again, Poppy ?” His voice drops an octave and he whispers, “That’s becoming a habit of yours.”

“Well, at least I call when someone leaves their name and number,” I bite out, sidestepping him and head toward the nearest bathroom. My heels click against the hardwood floor, each step feeling heavier than the last.

I shut myself into a tastefully decorated guest bathroom and press a hand to my chest to calm my racing heart.

Damn him. Damn his stupid smirk and ridiculously good looks.

Damn the whole country of Sweden for raising someone so unreasonably attractive.

I’ve spent the last weeks trying to forget that night, but now that seems impossible.

Even if he doesn’t know it yet, I carry a permanent reminder of what happened between us. And there isn’t much I can do to fix my current situation before telling him the truth. I can only hope he won’t hate me once he knows .

Lowering my hand to my stomach, I gather my strength to get through tonight without breaking down.

When I finally leave the bathroom ten minutes later, Rasmus is leaning casually against the wall across from me. His broad shoulders are relaxed, and one ankle is placed over the other.

Despite his chilled pose, his cockiness is gone, replaced by a seriousness that sends a shiver down my spine. One of those bad kinds.

“We need to talk,” he says, his voice low but firm. “Because I don’t want any issues with your dad. He’s my new GM and he can’t know about us.”

I fold my arms, meeting his gaze. “You’re right. We do need to talk.” I pause before blurting out, “Because I’m pregnant, and it’s yours. Surprise!”