Three hours later, Emma is screaming as they pull into Noah’s condo complex. Several thick flat boxes are stacked up in the back of Noah’s dark blue pickup truck. Bags of clothing and basic bedding are shoved behind the seats. Two identical bedding sets and the matching accessories have been ordered and set for delivery.
“Do you think that sales lady is going to post online about her two famous hockey-player customers?” Noah asks, sliding out of the cab. He hopes not. It’s not that Emma’s a secret, but nothing is even legal yet. A single hockey player adopting a baby would make for a popular human interest story, but it would also bring unwanted press right now, and he just wants to live his life without too much public scrutiny. Especially before Emma’s legally his.
He’d called Julia yesterday and they’d had a heart-to-heart about Emma. They’d ironed out everything he could think of and he assured her he’d pay for school if the need arose. Noah’d be calling his lawyer tomorrow and getting the ball rolling on the adoption.
“I asked her not to say anything and gave her my card to get tickets next season if she pretended we were non-celebrities. I also asked for her card so that next time you needed anything, we’d arrange to shop during her shift. I don’t think she’s going to chance losing future sales.”
Noah’s mouth drops open. “Seriously?”
Taylor shrugs and winks. “Well, yeah. If I don’t watch your back, who will?”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Taylor Bell. I appreciate it.” Now that Noah thinks about it, Taylor has had his back since he joined the team four years ago. “I think I’m going to owe you more than just a few meals.”
“Nah, it’s cool. You know I love kids and you’re my linemate and my friend. I’m happy to lend my expertise.”
“Well, thanks.” Noah’ll have to ponder some other way to show his appreciation later because Emma is still squalling, and even though nothing’s going to get her to stop for a little while, he’ll feel better if she’s in his arms. She’ll probably feel a bit comforted as well. He hopes, anyway.
“Take her on up, Noah. I’ll haul up the bags.”
“You sure?” He really doesn’t know what he did to garner Taylor’s friendship, but he’s definitely grateful.
Taylor nods, so Noah croons to Emma while he climbs the stairs.
Surprisingly, she only cries for another half hour before a meal, a bottle, and a couple of games of Pac-Man render her ready for a nap. They move her travel bed into Noah’s room and put her down.
“Okay, so, we need to clear out the stuff in her room first, right?” says Taylor.
“That makes the most sense, although I have no idea where to put the furniture.”
“How about in the other bedroom? Can’t we just stuff it in there?” Taylor pushes into Noah’s office/workout room.
“We’ll have to move the treadmill. The Bowflex will be too much trouble though. But then there’ll only be enough room for the dresser and the bedside tables.” It’s not a very big room.
“Do you even want to keep this furniture?”
Noah’s surprised and raises an eyebrow. “Of course I do.”
“What for?”
“It’s practically brand new and what if I buy a house? No sense in getting rid of perfectly good furniture.”
“Okay, okay…” Taylor holds up his hands in surrender. “Can you rent one of the garages in this complex?”
“Probably.” Noah’ll make that a priority this week. Emma should be settled in as quickly as possible. She may only be three months old, but surely she’ll know, somehow, how much she’s loved and wanted.
They wrangle the mattress and box spring up against the wall in Emma’s room for the time being and move everything else into the third bedroom before hauling the boxes of unassembled baby furniture into the living room in order to leave space for assembly in Emma’s room.
* * *
Noah gazes at the crib and the changing table and smiles. Emma’s got a room of her own, mostly, and Noah can’t wait for life to settle down so they can just be.
The hex keys land on the floor with a soft clink. Taylor presses his hands against his lower back as he arches backwards and stretches. “Oh my God, Noah. Whose brilliant idea was this?”
Because they’ve been in the room for so long, the glare of the overhead light is both harsh and dim. It reflects off the dark walls and is making his eyes itch. He’ll be glad for the small decorative lamps he ordered. A night light or two wouldn’t be remiss either. “Yours, you idiot.”
“Right. Christ.” Taylor rubs his eyes. “What the fuck was I thinking?”
Noah needs something to drink and heads for the kitchen. Taylor follows.
“That Emma needs a room fit for a princess?” Noah says, grabbing water from the fridge. He can’t fault Taylor for that. She did need her room set up. They just didn’t plan the process out very well. At least they don’t have to paint. He’d found a peach and sage green bedding set that complements the dark sage green that’s already in the guest room cum nursery. He got lucky there was something that coordinated so well. The white furniture will offset the wall color and help lighten the room. Noah can hardly wait to receive all the other pieces of the ensemble and call it done.
Wrenching the caps from the water bottles, they swig in tandem, although Taylor drains his completely. They’ve been at it all day and well into the night, stopping only to eat and to care for Emma. Buying a baby swing had been a stroke of genius and kept them from having to carry her around in the makeshift sling, though they took turns at that too. The chest of drawers is still in parts all over Emma’s room.
“It’s late.” Just after midnight. Noah yawns for the third time in as many minutes.
Taylor scrubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and yawns as well.
“Why don’t you just crash here?” Noah suggests. He has no idea why though. Taylor lives five minutes away via a back road. The chances of Taylor even passing another car are pretty slim. All Noah knows is that he’s not ready to send Taylor home. And that’s… He doesn’t know what that is or what it means.
Taylor doesn’t appear to think it’s weird though. He just peers into the living room. “Where?” he asks, hands clasped on his head, eyebrows and hairline almost shaking hands. Styrofoam packaging and cardboard boxes litter the furniture and the floor.
Good point.
“I have a California king. It’s big enough for the both of us if you don’t have a problem sharing.” It’s not like either one of them has never shared a room or even a bed with a teammate at some point in their respective hockey journeys.
Taylor’s eyes go big, but he shakes his head. “I… No. I don’t mind if you don’t.”
A sudden odd feeling churns in Noah’s stomach. “That’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have asked.” Offering to share a bed instead of just cleaning off the sofa is definitely weird. Cripes.
Taylor smiles. “It’s fine, I promise. I could use a shower though. I mean, we’ve been going at this for a while. Plus, I have rice cereal all over me too.”
“No, yeah, sure. I’ve got some sweats or some shorts you can borrow. Underwear’s weird, right?” God, Noah’s out of his depth. He feels like an idiot for some reason, and he has no idea why.
“Underwear’s a little weird, yeah. Basketball shorts and a tee shirt’ll be great though.”
Noah tiptoes into his room and digs out some clothes and takes them to Taylor who disappears into the hallway bathroom. By the light of the master bath, Noah strips his bed and remakes it in record time. It’s not his favorite chore, but no one wants to climb into used sheets other than their own. That’s just blech. He gathers his own clean clothes and sets them in his bathroom and waits for Taylor to finish. Emma sleeps peacefully through it all. Thank goodness for small mercies. He hopes she stays sleeping that well. Even though she slept for four-hour stretches the last few nights and immediately went back to sleep after a feed, Noah’s not quite caught
up from either the season or Emma’s first few nights with him.
Taylor comes into Noah’s room wearing Noah’s clothes and towel-drying his dark hair. Noah’s shorts hang low on Taylor’s hips as Noah’s a few inches bigger around the middle than Taylor. The scent of his own soap wafts his way. There’s a tightening of his gut. He’s not sure why. But it’s been a long day, and they’re both tired. He’ll figure it out later.
“I usually sleep on the left, but take whichever side you prefer,” Noah says before disappearing into the bathroom. It’s strange to think of sharing a bed with someone. It’s been years, since his junior hockey days, maybe, since he’s done so.
He’s never had a relationship where he slept with someone on a regular basis. He’s never even had a relationship, so… He scrubs his head harder—he’s making too much of this. It’s late. They’re both exhausted. They’re friends. That’s all. No one’s expecting anything but sleep. Because why would they? Taylor’s got the hots for some guy.
And Noah’s got no sexual inclinations at all.
Relief washes over Noah at the sound of Taylor’s even breathing once he finally emerges from the bathroom. Noah peeks down at Emma and then slides into bed. The mass of Taylor’s body next to him weights the mattress and it’s an odd feeling. Getting comfortable without causing the mattress to jiggle with earthquake-like tremors is a challenge, but Noah finally settles in and breathes easy himself.
The room is dark and close with two extra bodies in it. It’s comforting, though, not being the only one in his room. In his bed. Although the thought surprises him. He’s always slept alone and never felt unnerved by it. His gaze turns to the dark lump that is Taylor.
Loud, happy, funny. Kind, patient, gentle. Looking at the five-foot-ten, two hundred pound mass of hockey player in his bed, he’s surprised those are the adjectives that immediately come to mind. On ice, he’s brash and skilled, confident, a tough opponent. Off ice, he’s a big teddy bear. Who knew?
Noah can’t help but have a special place in his heart for Taylor. After the last week and all his help, Taylor’s become like a member of the family.
Noah falls asleep feeling warm and cozy. Feeling content.
* * *
Emma’s fussing wakens Noah immediately, as it usually does, but there’s a heavy furnace pinning him to his mattress, and it only takes him a split second to realize what, or rather who, it is.
Taylor.
Taylor’s nose is pressed against Noah’s neck and warm puffs of breath waft over his shoulder. Taylor’s arm has snaked its way around Noah’s waist, and Taylor’s knee is tucked in behind Noah’s own.
Noah forces himself to release the tenseness in his muscles lest he wake Taylor. He’s not doing anything really untoward, just cuddling. It’s actually quite nice to be snuggled up in Taylor’s warmth. Is this what it’s like to be in a relationship, to share a bed? Noah’s imagined having someone in his life every once in a while. He’s always pictured a woman, because that’s the predominant message of society, but lying here with Taylor, with another man, the realization that he’s not averse to the possibility of a relationship with someone of his own gender washes over him.
It might be harder to accomplish because the culture of the locker room is one of beer and sports and lots and lots of sex with women. He’s been surrounded by it since he left home to play hockey. He can handle the beer, and he’s got sports covered. But sex… Sex is outside his comfort zone. He lacks more than a basic knowledge of how parts slot together between any gender combination. His experience is limited and years old. Finding someone to accept his lack of a sex drive could prove a challenge. He doesn’t even know how or where to find such a person.
Emma squawks loudly. Noah startles a little and Taylor jerks harshly. He’s awake immediately, Noah can tell.
Taylor rolls away with a “shit; sorry, man” although he doesn’t get out of bed.
Noah inexplicably feels bereft. He rolls to his back and looks at Taylor, also on his back with an arm thrown across his eyes. “It’s fine. Honestly.”
Emma’s fussing turns into a cry, and Noah is forced to leave the warm cocoon of his bed. A soft brush of disappointment paints him. Lying there, enjoying someone’s company and warmth, seems like such a lovely thing to do for longer than a moment.
“Emma, my love,” he says, lifting her gently from her bed. All other thoughts flee when the stench hits him, and he wrinkles his nose. “Girl, whoo, you’re stinky.”
Emma squirms and frets.
Taylor chuckles from the bed. The rustle of bedclothes indicates he too is getting up. “How about I work on breakfast for all three of us while you take care of Pretty Pretty Princess?”
“Deal.”
By the time Emma has a clean diaper and a fresh outfit on, the scent of strong coffee lures Noah into the kitchen. A bowl of fluffy yellow eggs sits beside a large stack of buttered whole grain toast. A bottle, a bowl of rice cereal, and a tiny jar of strained pears rounds out the food offering. The table is set for two, and Emma’s brand new high chair is in place.
Between this morning’s inadvertent cuddle session and sharing breakfast, things feel awful domestic, and a warm glow of contentment, of want, settles into Noah’s gut. But that’s crazy, right? Because he and Taylor are just friends, despite sharing a bed last night. “Looks and smells awesome, Taylor. Thanks,” he says, trying to keep things normal.
Taylor grunts into a large mug of coffee. That’s definitely normal, as Noah has come to find out over the last week. He puts Emma in her chair and takes a seat across from Taylor. He spoons some cereal into her mouth, before dishing up his own breakfast.
Taylor looks soft and half asleep, and a rush of affection fills Noah. Is it weird for Noah to want to send Taylor back to bed and climb in after him? It’s not like it’s cold or anything, but being close to someone like that, now that he’s had a taste of it, seems nice.
“Noah.”
Noah’s eyes dart to Taylor’s. “What?” He’s obviously asked something Noah missed while he mused.
“Did you sleep well?”
Heat blooms up his neck considering where his brain just was. “Oh, yeah. Fine. You?”
Taylor nods and his mouth quirks up on one side. “Haven’t slept that good in a while, to be honest. I hope my crossing any boundaries doesn’t break some kind of bro code. I just…I’m a cuddler, as you found out, and I’ve been a too little busy for the past, oh, four months making a run for the Cup to think about a hookup, much less have time to nurture a relationship.”
“Uh…no. No, it’s fine. You were asleep, right?” Another rush of heat creeps across his shoulders and he shrugs them. As if he could slough off his lack of chill as if it were a blanket or something.
“I was asleep.” Taylor nods, looking somehow sheepish, for all his usual bravado. He takes another swig of coffee and shoves a bite of toast-and-egg taco into his mouth. “Oh,” he says upon swallowing, “and don’t forget, we have to make arrangements for Emma for this week.”
As if Emma’s his responsibility too. But his use of “we” endears him to Noah even more. If Taylor hadn’t had his back this week, Noah’s not sure what he would have done.
Chapter Five
Tuesday morning is a crazy rush of Noah trying to get himself ready, in between trying to get Emma changed, fed, and also ready for the day. Guilt and sadness sit like a bucket of pucks in his stomach. They’ve established somewhat of a routine, one that soothes Noah as much as it seems to suit Emma. And now he’s going to leave her in a stranger’s care for the better part of six hours, and he feels sick. Also worried. Not about Emma, though. Latte’s wife, Daphne, is awesome. But he’s never had to prep Emma for a day without him or away from home. He has no idea what to pack.
In the end, he fills the truck with her swing and her stroller and a small suitcase of clothes as well as a box of formula and food. Emma burbles happily on the drive while Noah’s stomach churns the whole way.
The
Coffeys’ home is in the middle of a regular old suburban housing development. It’s nowhere near the size of Modano’s, no—Seguin’s mansion over in Preston Hollow. It’s small and cozy in comparison, even though Latte could have easily afforded something twice, if not three times, its size. It’s got a brick front, as most houses in Texas do, and lots of large shiny windows. The small front yard is wild and overgrown with wildflowers. By design he thinks. There’s still a certain symmetry to it all.
As he kisses Emma one last time, a lump forms in his throat. It’s silly really. They’ve only been a family for a week, but the thought of leaving her is carving a hollow in his chest. In his head, he knows she’ll be fine, and he really doesn’t have a choice. He hands Daphne several twenties. “In case I forgot something important.”
She smiles softly. “We’ll be fine, Dad. You have my cell number and I have yours. How about if I send updates every so often, huh?”
A relieved breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he nods. “Would you? God, I’m such a sap. But that would be great. Thank you.”
Daphne pushes him toward the door with a kind smile. “Now, go, before you’re late.”
At the car door, Noah looks back. Daphne and Emma are on the porch and Daphne is waving Emma’s little arm. His chest is tight like when he’s congested, but he has to go and Emma will be fine. Right. With a nod and wave, he gets in the car and heads for the barn.
* * *
Coach Vega’s mouth thins when Noah slinks in ten minutes late. “Sorry, Coach, won’t happen again.” He’d underestimated the time it would take to unload all of Emma’s stuff and say goodbye to her. Plus there was traffic. And road construction.
He misses Emma already. Missed her from the time he turned off the street Daphne and Latte live on. But he’d better get used to it. In a few months’ time, he’ll be leaving her a lot. A ball of cold settles in his stomach at the thought. Not that he has a choice unless he quits hockey, which isn’t even a choice at all. He loves hockey and he’s good at it and makes a decent living, so he’s going to have to buck up and embrace the joy of having Emma in his life while accepting the realities of life for a professional hockey player’s family.
Rock the Cradle of Love Page 4
