Winger

by Samantha Whiskey

  I swallowed hard, following her gaze to her tummy, and then on to the beautiful bare legs beneath it. Fuck if she let me, I’d wear those legs around my face all day long.

  Lock it up.

  Right.

  “Hot,” I said but meant it as a question.

  She shifted on her feet. “It’s like a sauna in here.”

  I tilted my head, knowing full well the thermostat had been set at sixty-two upon her arrival. “You are in front of a stove.”

  “Well, that didn’t help either.” She slid four pancakes onto a plate, then drizzled syrup all over the stack. “Want some?” she asked, eyeing my gym clothes. “You must be hungry after all that running.” She took a small bite off the fork, her lips wrapping around the utensil in a way that made my dick twitch.

  Standing there in only a t-shirt, eating right in front of the stove—fucking sexy as hell.

  “I…uh…” I’d never wanted pancakes so bad in my entire life.

  She umphed and jumped at the same time, her free hand flying to her right side. She quickly set the plate and fork down, rubbing the area behind her right hip. “You don’t like pancakes, baby?”

  At first, I thought she was talking to me, and the sweet tone of her voice cinched tight around my chest.

  Took only a second to realize she was looking down. Holding a one-sided conversation with our unborn child.

  Jealousy rippled through me when she flinched again.

  I hadn’t been invited to speak or feel the kicks, yet.

  I shook off the sensation, moving closer to her without thinking.

  “You okay?” I asked again, noting the crease between her brow.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Baby-ball is just getting stronger.”

  I reached my hands toward the spot she rubbed—not her tummy, but close enough to it that once she saw my intent, she backed away, almost like an instinct.

  I lowered my hands, my head dropping a fraction along with my heart.

  Fuck, that hurts.

  Worse than a hit from Rory on the ice—and that was a mad pain like no other.

  This?

  Her keeping a wall between us?

  Between my baby and me…shit.

  All the air seemed to have been sucked from the room, my lungs burning for a breath worse than when I’d ran the miles this morning.

  Apology flashed through her eyes, and she took a step toward me, but I backed up several feet, motioning over my shoulder with my thumb. “I’ve got to shower before my lunch with the guys.”

  “Right.” Her shoulders sank, but she nodded. “Have fun.”

  I nodded a little too quickly, booking it down the hallway and to my shower.

  Technically it was Jeannine’s shower now, but I hadn’t moved my stuff over to the guest bathroom yet.

  I would…later. Right now, I needed ice cold water, and some damn sense knocked into me.

  What had I been thinking?

  That I’d move her in and she’d magically invite me into a heart she kept locked tighter than a vault?

  That all it would take was me winning a stupid carnival toy for her to see I could be trusted?

  That I could be a good father?

  “Ridiculous,” I grumbled to myself as I stepped under the cool water.

  The sting hit my skin and shocked some breath into my lungs. I scrubbed and rinsed in a fierce rush, my muscles protesting the lack of warmth and length of the soak.

  I couldn’t linger, though, not when every second I stood in there I thought about what Jeannine looked like in this exact same spot. Nothing to hide her gorgeous body, the one now growing our child inside it.

  The glow she emanated, even before she got pregnant.

  The way her skin was soft like silk. I bet the hot water only made it more supple, tender, sensitive. I would use the slickness of the water to drench between her thighs, tease and torture her sweet spot until she couldn’t stand on her own anymore. Until I had to hold her up while I devoured every glorious inch of her…

  And, fuck me, I was hard.

  Damn this woman.

  Dead set on shutting me out, and could I really blame her? She’d only known one version of me.

  Hell, I was still getting used to this new outlook…this new importance pulsing in my blood, demanding me to alter my vision of the future and provide.

  I fisted my rock-hard dick, leaning my other arm against the shower wall. So much for a cold shower, even it had no chance against the powerhouse that was Jeannine. Those bare legs, that stunning smile. The way she owned herself and wouldn’t give an inch.

  That mouth.

  Fuck.

  I pumped harder, tightening my fist, seeing nothing but her.

  The smell of her shampoo and the body wash she used that left a fresh scent on her skin was all around me, tempting me, taunting me.

  Mine.

  But just out of reach.

  Harder.

  I could almost feel her—my memory branded with the sensation of how it had felt to sink into her with nothing between us. The warmth of her perfect cunt, tightening and swirling around my dick. The way she’d met every single one of my animalistic thrusts—this wild woman loving it hard and fast, teasing and torturing.

  I upped my pace, punishing myself for not being strong enough to withstand her fire.

  Not being able to give her exactly what she needed.

  For not having a clue what that really was.

  From the tension in her body a moment ago, it looked like she needed exactly this.

  Fuck me, that did it.

  The image of her fingers plunging between her own thighs, exploring herself, finding the release she desperately needed…it brought on my own, and I groaned.

  A few ragged breaths and I re-cleaned up, shutting the water off several minutes later. Dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and T, I both hoped she would and wouldn’t be in the kitchen when I left. I wanted to see her, talk to her, try to figure out what she really wanted from me, but I was terrified of actually finding out the answer.

  Because I was almost certain it had nothing to do with me.

  A half hour later—after I sadly didn’t run into Jeannine again, the kitchen clean and empty—I sank into a chair across from the guys at our favorite burger joint.

  “I didn’t realize this was bring-your-kid-to-lunch day,” I said, glaring at Bentley who sat on Gage’s left. Rory across from him and on my right.

  “Crazy that you’ll actually be able to do that soon, huh, old man?” Bentley fired back, and though I instantly gave the dude props for the quip, I deepened my glare.

  Gage smacked the kid’s chest, which was more defined than when I had left. Maybe he really had been working his ass off as much as Gage said, but that wouldn’t be proven until I saw him on the ice.

  “You told him?” I growled, my eyes darting between my boys.

  Gage’s shoulders sank. “He overheard Bailey and me talking before we came here.”

  “Look,” Bentley said, raising his hand toward me. “I’m sorry, all right. I can’t control my mouth sometimes.”

  I snorted, rolling my eyes.

  “I meant to say congratulations.” His eyes said he was being sincere, but I was still pissed he knew something so deeply personal to me. Not that I was trying to hide it, but damn, I hadn’t fully adjusted yet.

  “Thanks,” I said but it sounded more like a growl.

  Our waitress came over to the table, smiling. “The usual today guys?” She glanced around at each of us.

  Rory shook his head first. “No, Suze,” he said. “We’re going to need whiskey today.”

  Her eyebrows rose, but she nodded. “Before or after burgers?”

  “Both.” Rory and Gage said at the same time.

  She nodded and hurried off to put in our orders and grab the drinks.

  “So,” Gage said after a few too many minutes of silence where I sized Bentley up, and he did his best not to look me in the eye. He studied the drink
menu extremely hard. “How is the houseguest?”

  Beautiful.

  Fun.

  Infuriating.

  “Fine,” I said, shrugging. “Was cooking earlier without getting sick, so that is progress.”

  “That is a good sign,” Rory said, sympathy coloring his eyes. Wasn’t too long ago that he’d been in the same boat. Gage a few months ahead of him. “I bet she’s going nuts not working,” he continued.

  I nodded, wrapping my fingers around the glass of whiskey Suze set before me. “I’m sure she is,” I said, trying like hell not to sound jaded.

  “Do you two…talk?” Gage asked, quickly taking a sip of his whiskey.

  I took a good long pull before I answered. “Sure,” I said. “We even went on a date.”

  “Warren Kinley went on a date?” Rory raised his eyebrows. “Did hell just freeze over?”

  Bentley laughed but shut it down after a second.

  I chuckled. “Yeah,” I said. “Wasn’t as bad as I remembered.”

  The last date I’d been on had been years ago, so far back I could barely remember. The one thing I did remember was how it didn’t fit my mold—the one relationship for life type. I’d never met a girl who could handle my dry sense of humor, or my brooding moods when I was in the zone for hockey season.

  But now? There was something about Jeannine that made me re-think that thought process. Like if there was anyone that could handle me for longer than a few nights, it was her. With all her fire and attitude and strength. Who better to help keep me in check? And I’d thought that before I’d seen her swollen with my child.

  Seeing her that way…fuck, it only made it worse.

  “Where did you go?” Bentley asked, the question timid as he tried.

  Okay, kid, I get it. You want to be in the group.

  I took a breath, ensuring the snarl was gone from my voice. “A carnival.”

  “Oh nice,” he said, nodding as he sipped his whiskey. “Chloe used to love the rubber duck game,” he said, then his eyes widened like he hadn’t meant to utter those words. “You play it?” He asked quickly.

  I tilted my head toward Gage, who shrugged.

  “No,” I said. “Who’s Chloe?”

  “No one,” he answered too fast.

  I arched a brow at him. “I worked with a Chloe in Canada,” I said, never losing his gaze. He flinched. “She was the Canadian trainer. Best trainer I’ve ever had, actually.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “Not the same woman, though, right?”

  He sighed, content not to answer.

  Oh, this was too much fun. I leaned closer, lowering my voice.

  “You know about my baby mama,” I said, trying not to laugh. “You can’t answer a simple question?”

  He stared into his glass like he wanted to dive into it and hide. “She’s just an ex-girlfriend. No big deal.” He forced a shrug. “She liked the carnival game. Made me think of it.”

  The fact that he didn’t confirm it wasn’t the same Chloe I’d worked with was answer enough. Fucking hell, she was everything over there in the hockey world. How’d he let that one go?

  Rory pressed his lips together, Gage locked his jaw, and I simply sighed.

  You could tell by the way he said her name there was some real pain there. And here he was, befriending two men hopelessly in love with their women, and me with a baby on the way. Still, he didn’t throw trash talk over us being whipped…had to respect that.

  “We shot guns and darts and did the hammer thing,” I said, thinking of the purple puppy she’d demanded I sleep with. The thing was on the guest bed I currently occupied, not that I’d held it while I slept or anything.

  “Nice,” was all that Bentley managed before he cleared his throat. “So,” he said. “Speaking of the Canadians. They tripled your size.” He eyed me, and we all laughed.

  “Checking out my muscles, Rookie?”

  “What? Ugh. No, man, I just meant it looks like their system really worked for you.”

  “So you’re saying I needed it?”

  He opened and closed his mouth a few times. The fact that he wasn’t firing back as fast as he used to earned him even more respect from me. I could see why the guys were taking him under their wing—he wasn’t behaving like the hot-head rookie who wanted Gage’s spot when injury threatened to take him off the team. No, this kid…something had clicked for him. Made him understand the value of having us be in his corner instead of pounding him against it.

  He dropped his hands on the table. “I can’t win.”

  Me, Rory, and Gage burst out laughing. I reached across the table and shoved his shoulder before sitting back down. “You’re all right, Rookie.”

  His eyes darted between us all, confused as hell.

  “Olympics were good. Getting the Bronze was amazing. Surreal. Spending time coaching at the Pro-skills camp was incredible, too. It was all great.” I continued. Minus the phone blip that left me clueless as to what Jeannine was going through, it had been a great experience. “Like I said, Chloe taught me a few new tricks,” I said, hating that his eyes shut briefly when I said her name. Fuck, poor guy. I leaned back in my seat as Suze sat down our baskets of burgers and fries. “I’ll teach you a few next pick-up game.”

  “Really?” Bentley asked, his eyes clearing as he reached for his burger.

  I chuckled. “Sure, Rookie.”

  Gage smiled at me, pride beaming from him.

  Thanks, Dad. I silently, sarcastically told him.

  “You know,” Bentley said. “I’ve been on the team for two seasons now. I’m not exactly a rookie anymore.”

  Ah, there was some of that attitude I remembered him for.

  “I do have a name,” he continued.

  I laughed. “You’ll always be a rookie to me, kid.”

  He rolled his eyes but took it in silence.

  Two more whiskeys and an empty basket later, the kid grabbed a cab home under the guise of needing to get some shit done. In all fairness, I think he wanted to give me some time with the guys without him.

  If he wasn’t careful, I was actually going to like him.

  I ordered another drink, swirling the ice around the amber liquid.

  “Carnival was on the list?” Rory asked.

  “Yup.”

  “I bet that was Bailey,” Gage said, a smile he only had when he said Bailey’s name on his lips.

  “What’s up next?” Rory asked.

  I chuckled, taking another sip. “You two are as bad as the girls.”

  “What?” Rory acted offended. “I’ve already been through my list,” he said. “And a few others.” A mischievous smile flashed, and I shuddered—Paige and Bailey both were like my sisters now.

  “Dude, TMI,” I said, laughing.

  He rolled his eyes. “I can’t help but be curious about yours.”

  “It’s not anything like yours was,” I said.

  Or, I supposed it wasn’t.

  He never went into full details of what exactly was on Paige’s, but he’d said enough to know it wasn’t carnival’s and chick-flick nights.

  Funny, because the dirty kinky stuff I could handle without flinching, but having to plan dates? I was as nervous as a teenage boy seeing a girl naked for the first time.

  “How are you holding up with all the other stuff?” Gage asked.

  I played dumb.

  He didn’t buy it. “The living with a woman thing?” he asked. “A woman pregnant with your child, no less.”

  “It’s…complicated.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Rory said.

  “I can’t explain it guys,” I said, sighing. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her before I found out.”

  They both raised their brows at that, and I nodded.

  “It’s true,” I said. “Why did you think I didn’t come home with even one phone number? I wanted her so much I couldn’t even try to sleep with anyone else.”

  Rory spit whiskey across the t
able, misting Gage.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” Gage swiped the stuff off his shirt.

  “Sorry, man, but holy fuck,” he said by way of apology. “You didn’t sleep with anyone for six months?”

  I shook my head, wondering why I hated that it was such a shock. I used to pride myself on the women I bedded—all wonderful, consenting encounters with no strings.

  Now, I wished I could change it.

  Lessen it.

  So that what Jeannine and I had shared, even for just that one night, would be more…profound somehow.

  “Damn,” Gage said, flipping Rory off when he passed him a napkin.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” I said. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Not yet. Not beyond a place to stay and the list.”

  “That can’t be true,” Gage said.

  “Yeah,” Rory agreed. “She wouldn’t move in with you if she didn’t trust you.”

  The vision of her flinching away from my touch begged to differ.

  I raked my fingers through my hair.

  “It’ll take time,” Gage said. “She’s been on her own forever.”

  “Paige said she’s been taking care of herself since she was sixteen,” Rory added. “Her family life is foggy. Paige’s family became her family.”

  “Right,” I said. “I get it. She needs time.”

  “Just, don’t give up,” Gage said. “All right?”

  I shook my head, ensuring him I wouldn’t.

  But as we finished our whiskey, I couldn’t help but think about how little time I had before she disappeared.

  And took my baby along with her.

  Chapter 7

  Jeannine

  “This is so Bailey,” I said, grinning as Warren pulled me into the Seattle Aquarium.

  “I would think so,” he said. “But it’s all in Paige’s handwriting, so it’s kind of a fun game to guess.”

  “I’ll remember that on the next one,” I said.

  The next one.

  I couldn’t believe I had a number of more dates with Warren. This was only our second, but I found myself excited for each one.