More than a Fling: A Romance Collection

by Quinn, Jillian

  “Vegas, baby,” she says, throwing her arms above her head. “I’m coming, too. I can have my bachelorette party there.”

  “Are you serious?”

  She shrugs, nonchalant as if hijacking my bachelor party isn’t a big deal. “Yeah, why not?

  “Because your brother will have a stroke. No women allowed.”

  “Same city, different parties. Let me handle Will.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  Mia grips my hand, and a pulse of electricity dances up my arm. She smiles as if she can feel it too. We swing higher, matching each other’s pace. No more words are necessary. A perfect end to an imperfect beginning.

  Epilogue

  Ethan: Four Years Later

  “Swing, swing, swing,” Erik says, with his chubby little cheeks puffed out, jumping up and down.

  “Hold Mommy’s hand, Erik,” Mia says to our three-year-old son. He slips his tiny fingers between hers and then latches on to me.

  I smile down at Erik, and then glance up at Mia, both of us lifting him off the ground at the same time.

  “I want to fly, Daddy,” he says to me in his baby voice that makes my heart melt. “Make my fly.”

  “You got it, buddy.”

  Mia laughs, her smile so wide that it illuminates her entire face. I love this woman and my children more than anything in this world. And I have them, all because of the darkest parts of my life. My brother’s death had set into action a chain of events that I never thought would lead me to this point. Years ago, I thought I would be dead by now. Part of me wanted—no needed—to be with my brother again. My depression and guilt over Erik, mixed with my drug habit, should have killed me. But it didn’t.

  With a strong grip on Erik, we rock him back and forth, all the way through the cemetery until we reach my brother’s grave. My mother waits for us, with her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, her back facing us.

  “Grams,” Erik screams, and she spins around.

  The second we set Erik on the ground he runs into my mom’s arms. “Hey, baby.” She hugs Erik and kisses him on the cheek and forehead, holding on to him for dear life.

  “You made it,” my mom says to Mia and me, adjusting Erik on her hip. “How was the trip?”

  “Not bad. We hit some traffic, but nothing major.”

  When Mia had found out she was pregnant, we were only married for a few months. I couldn’t wait to make her my wife, and with my hockey schedule, we didn’t waste much time after my proposal. My mom cried for days after I told her our son’s name. She still does on occasion. Today is one of those days. Even though she tries to blink them away, her eyes are watery, filled with tears.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask my mom.

  “Not long. Maybe twenty minutes or so. You know, my usual visiting hours.”

  Every day since she moved back to Boston, my mom has visited my brother and father, who are now buried next to each other. Some days, she spends hours here and knowing that breaks my heart. She never moved on, never got the second chance I had with Mia. At least not until Erik came along.

  “Have you reconsidered my offer?”

  Her gaze shifts between Erik and me, until she settles on Mia and her stomach. She’s pregnant again, this time with a girl. I’ve been begging my mother for years to come live with us.

  My mom runs her hand over Mia’s baby bump and smiles. “I think it’s time.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  She kisses Erik on the forehead and pulls his head to her chest. “Do you want Grams to come live with you and the new baby?”

  Erik giggles. “Baby kicks me.”

  All of us burst into laughter.

  “When he touched Mia’s stomach last week,” I add for clarification, “Willa kicked his hand.”

  “Willa? I love the name.”

  “My brother wanted Ethan to name his first born after him. He didn’t get his wish, so we compromised with Willa.”

  “It’s a beautiful name for my granddaughter.” My mother’s gaze falls to the headstones in front of us, her eyes full of sadness. “I wish your brother and father were here to meet your children. I bet if Erik were alive he would have fought you for Mia.”

  We both smile at the thought of my brother, who probably would have kicked my ass for a chance with my wife. Erik was the life of the party, where I was always the one brooding in the corner, ignoring everyone. He was more like Will, which is why I gravitated to him so much when I’d first moved to Pennsylvania.

  Erik thrashes in my mother’s arms until she sets him on the ground. My little guy moves between my brother and father’s graves and presses his tiny palms to the marble. He looks up at me with curiosity in his green eyes. “Grandpa and Uncle Erik live together. Is that why Grams is going to live with us?”

  My son reminds me so much of my brother when we were kids. We were identical twins, with Erik being older by a few minutes, and my son looks just like our baby pictures. But his personality is my brother to a T.

  I crouch down in front of him, trying not to cry. “Yeah, buddy. Grams will make you the Mickey Mouse pancakes you like.”

  His face lights up with excitement. “With peanut butter?”

  “Sure,” I choke out. “Whatever you want.”

  Erik throws himself into my arms, and I breathe in the scent of his baby shampoo. He smacks a kiss on my cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you, too, buddy.”

  Mia settles in behind me and places her hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. My mother does the same to my other shoulder.

  “It’s time to go home, baby,” my mom says to me. “I’m ready.”

  “Me, too, Mom. Me, too.” I lift Erik in my arms and stand. “You’ll like the adjoining apartment I had renovated for you on the off chance you would change your mind.”

  She rubs her hands together, excited. “That means I get to decorate, cook my babies dinner, and plan our Sunday brunches. Looking forward to it all. But most of all, I’m looking forward to being with my family.”

  “I’m glad you reconsidered. This will be good for all of us.”

  With every member of my family present, including my unborn daughter, my life feels complete. My mom had always told me that the right people come into our lives when we need them most, and that much was true when it came to Mia. She was the breath of fresh air I needed, the one person I could bare myself to without fear.

  I turn to Mia, with Erik flush against my hip, and press my lips to hers. No matter how many days or years go by, I still feel that spark with her, a flame that only burns brighter with each new experience we share with each other.

  “Eww,” Erik says in my ear. “Daddy kissed Mommy.”

  “My silly boy,” Mia says, patting Erik’s shaggy brown hair. “Wait until you get old enough to have a girlfriend.”

  He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Girls are gross.”

  I laugh. “You won’t be saying that when you get older, buddy. Mommy’s not gross, and she’s a girl.”

  “Love Mommy,” he coos. “Mommy pretty. Mommy makes me cookies. Can I have cookies?”

  Mia cracks a smile. “When we get home, I will make you all the cookies you can eat.”

  “Yay,” he yells in my ear. “I want to fly again, Daddy. Swing, swing, swing.”

  “Okay, but one more time, and then we have to leave.”

  I set Erik down, and he clutches both of our hands. Mia smiles at me, my expression mirroring hers.

  “Take us home, Daddy,” Mia says to me, as she moves her arm back to help me swing Erik.

  “There’s no place I would rather be.”

  More than Friends

  Chapter One

  Dean: Freshman Year

  For the first time in my life, I’m afraid to talk to a girl. And not just any girl. Kat is the daughter of Nick Baldwin, the professional hockey player I have idolized for most of my life. I still have NHL posters of her dad on the walls in my be
droom back home. Her father is the reason I wanted to become a hockey player, and now, I’m stalking her.

  My teammates laughed at me, told me I was crazy for seeking out Kat. When I’d heard that Nick’s daughter made the women’s ice hockey team at Strickland University, I had to see for myself if she lives up to the Baldwin name. She doesn’t disappoint, not even a little bit. In fact, Kat might be a faster skater than her dad.

  Kat skates down the ice, with a few girls in tow, switching the puck to her right, as the winger comes up on her left side. They collide against the boards, scrambling for the puck. With a front-row seat to the action, I get up from my chair and lean into the Plexiglas, watching Kat fight to keep possession of the puck. She elbows one of the girls in the jaw, but the official doesn’t catch it.

  I laugh at her feistiness.

  While Kat has her father’s skating and puck-handling abilities, she has her older brother’s scrappiness. Duke and Austin Baldwin are two of the best defensive players in the NHL. I see a lot of her brothers in Kat. Even from the stands, I’m in awe of her, smiling at the thought of meeting her.

  After the game ends, I wait by the rink entrance for Kat as the Strickland Senators smack the hands of their opponents. Kat was the sole reason for this win at home. She dominated every second she was on the ice.

  Wiping my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans, I call out to Kat, who narrows her eyes at me. I hold up my index finger and gesture for her to come over to me.

  She rolls her eyes but follows my request.

  “Hey,” I manage to say before she interrupts my train of thought.

  “Did you just beckon me?” She rips off her gloves and holds them against her navy-and-white jersey.

  “Umm… I guess so.” I shove my hands into my pockets to dry them off.

  Why is she making me so damn anxious?

  I wasn’t even this nervous when I tried out for the varsity hockey team.

  “I’m not a puck bunny or your beckon call girl. You don’t point your finger at me and expect me to come running over.”

  The corners of my mouth turn up into a wicked grin. “But you did.”

  “No, don’t do that.” She shakes her head. “Does that smirk normally work for you?”

  Thrown off by her question and the awful turn that this conversation is taking, I have no idea how to respond. From watching her play, I knew she would be a no bullshit kind of girl, yet I treated her as if she were some puck bunny hanging out after one of my games.

  Total dick move.

  “Yeah, I guess it does,” I admit, holding out my less sweaty hand. “I’m Dean Crawford, the starting center for the men’s team.”

  “I know who you are, Dean. Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?”

  She shrugs. “Depends if we’re talking about hockey or your extracurricular activities.”

  “This is not how I was hoping this would go,” I confess.

  She chuckles. “You had this all planned out? I thought you were a ladies man. I have to say I’m not that impressed.”

  “Oh, yeah. Why is that?” I try to hide my smile and fail.

  “You’re not as smooth as I thought you would be.”

  “At least you know who I am.”

  “C’mon, Baldwin,” her coach yells from behind her on her way into the locker room. “Let’s get a move on.”

  Kat glances over her shoulder and says okay, before turning her focus back to me. “I have to go. Is there something you wanted?”

  I’ve never had this issue with women. Most of the girls on campus throw themselves at my teammates and me.

  “I wanted to meet you.”

  She huffs. “Are you one of my dad’s fanboys? I don’t have time for that shit. Do you know how many guys talk to me every week because of my dad and brothers?”

  “I won’t lie to you. Your dad is the reason I came here today, but your talent is what kept me watching.”

  Her face lights up with a genuine smile. “Now, you’re just trying to flatter me.”

  “Is it working?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  “I don’t know,” she groans. “Maybe.”

  “What are you doing later?”

  “I might hang out with my friend at the SAC.” She bites down on her bottom lip as if I’m the one who is making her nervous. “We play air hockey up on the third floor if you want to come.”

  Then, it hits me that she thinks I’m asking her on a date when that wasn’t my intention. Kat is beautiful that much I can tell beneath the helmet that covers her blonde hair and the layers of gear that fill out her frame. But I wasn’t even thinking that far ahead. Despite my reputation, I don’t sleep around as much as everyone thinks. I don’t correct the people spreading the rumors either. So, I suppose that is my fault.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you in the game room.”

  “Okay.” She smiles one last time before she turns away from me. “See ya later, Dean. Don’t think for one second I will let you win just because I’m a girl.”

  I laugh in response. “Girl or not, I wouldn’t expect that from a Baldwin.”

  She glances over her shoulder at me and winks.

  Kat is everything I had imagined and more. Girls like her don’t come along that often. She has me so intrigued I panic all over again at the thought of hanging out with her outside the rink. As I watch Kat leave, my heart pounds in my chest.

  I’m in trouble.

  Chapter Two

  Kat: Freshman Year

  “Dean Crawford is coming here to hang out with us?” Becca holds her hand up to her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.

  I shrug, staring around the game room to make sure no one overheard her outburst. “Stop turning it into a big deal.”

  “But he’s so hot. He waited for you after our game. I mean seriously, Kat, how did you get him to ask you out?”

  “Dean didn’t ask me out.” I sigh at her words. “He wanted to know what I was doing tonight, and I told him we would probably come here like we always do.”

  “I hope Dean brings one of his teammates with him. Then, we can double date.” She pushes her dark curls behind her ears and gives me a dreamy look.

  Dean has this effect on all women. I must’ve thrown him for a loop with how I acted. I did it on purpose to mess with his mojo. For my entire life, I have dealt with puck bunnies and skanky women lusting over my dad, and now my older brothers. I wasn’t about to do the same thing to Dean.

  “It’s not a date,” I correct for what feels like the hundredth time since I told Becca about Dean beckoning me earlier. “That was not an invitation to dinner, more like a casual gesture among friends. Dean would never see me as more than a friend.”

  “Get out of here, Kat.” Becca sinks into the plush fabric that lines the bench along the windowsill and leans against the wall to get comfortable. “He made the first move. I wouldn’t be so sure about the two of you being friends.”

  Even if I wanted to get my hopes up for more, there’s no way I would date someone with his reputation.

  “You would be the talk of the campus if you dated Dean Crawford.”

  “I already am the talk of the campus.” I sit next to her on the ledge and glance around the room for Dean. “At least once a week I have someone ask me for my autograph as if I’m an extension of my famous family. You should see the stares I get from the guys on this campus. It’s creepy. Dean was no different. He’s another fan.”

  “You don’t know that.” Her smile reaches her eyes, directing my attention to the cause of her reaction—Dean.

  Flanked by two of his teammates, Dean strolls toward us. His broad shoulders and thick chest fill out the black sweater that’s plastered to his muscular frame. Dark jeans hang low from his narrow hips and hug every curve of his body as if made for him.

  I shouldn’t have these thoughts about Dean. He’s the campus bad boy. I avoid men like him on purpose. But for some reason, I don’t think he would b
reak my heart. Not that I want to get that close to him, but still, I saw something in Dean earlier. That something is what made me lower my guard and invite him here tonight.

  “You showed,” I say, hopping down from the windowsill to meet him.

  “Of course, I did.” He motions toward the guy on his right and then left. “Do you know Ryan and Killian?”

  I hold out my hand for each of them to shake.

  Ryan Nash and Killian Cade are just as legendary at Strickland University as Dean. Ryan and Killian are both juniors who already had a serious puck bunny reputation before Dean made the varsity team. I guess manwhores travel in packs. Dean must be their alpha.

  “Hey,” Dean says, clutching my waist. He pulls me into him and kisses me on the cheek.

  And I thought my brothers were lovey. Still, they are family, and Dean is a complete stranger. Maybe Becca is right about this being a date. I have no idea how to react to Dean.

  My brothers were so overprotective that I never had many dates. I mostly kept my head in my books and played hockey. Any chance at a social life was killed by Duke or Austin the second they found out a boy was interested in me. I always had Becca, though. We moved from Chicago to Philadelphia together to play for the Senators. College is our fresh start.

  Like me, Becca has an overbearing family. Her parents are super religious and never let her do anything. Between her parents and my brothers, we mostly stuck to ourselves. Spending so much time away from boys and all the drama that come with them allowed both of us to improve our game. And who better than to teach us than my dad?

  Dean’s eyes travel over my body as he releases me from his grip. “You look different out of uniform. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  “Um… okay.”

  “I mean that in the best way possible,” he adds. “It was supposed to be a compliment.”

  I laugh. “You suck at this.”