by Anna Sugden
Coach Macarty gave a double blast of his whistle. “Good job, everyone. Hit the showers. Larocque, Mad Dog, stay behind.” He beckoned them to center ice.
J.B. and Taylor climbed over the boards and skated across to the coach.
“You ladies kissed and made up yet, or do you need to do a bag skate?” Macarty’s gaze moved between them.
J.B. slowly looked at Mad Dog, who nodded but didn’t smile. “We’re good, Coach.”
“Sorry for screwing up practice,” Mad Dog added.
“You’re supposed to be setting an example for the younger guys.” Coach Macarty grunted. “Save your fire for the game. Now get out of here.”
Relieved to have been let off lightly, J.B. and Taylor headed to the locker room. They endured some razzing from their teammates as they showered and changed, but didn’t reveal the cause of their fight.
Bad Boy, who still mentored J.B., took him aside and asked if everything was all right. Since he didn’t know about the whole Bella fiasco—and this wasn’t the time or place to fill him in—J.B. assured him it was under control.
Kenny waited until he, Taylor and J.B. were walking out to their cars to grill them about the fight. “I know it’s to do with Bella. I swear, whenever there’s a woman on the scene, normal guys start acting like idiots.”
“You won’t get any argument from me,” Taylor said.
“Right, because you’ve got it together so well.” J.B. flipped him the bird before saying to Kenny, “It’s a long story.”
“Sounds complicated and messy.” Kenny gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’m better off not knowing. This is why I avoid relationships.”
“Your turn will come, bro.”
“When it does, I’ll handle it like a champ, having watched Jake, my brothers and now you flopping around helplessly like fish on a deck.”
“With friends like you two, who needs enemies?” J.B. unlocked his SUV and tossed his bag in the back. “I’ve got stuff to do. I’ll catch you later.”
Before J.B. got into his car, Mad Dog handed him a folded slip of paper.
“What’s this?”
“You can read, can’t you?” Taylor unlocked his own car and shoved his bag onto the seat.
J.B. opened the note. “Isabelle Brandine.” He looked up. “Bella?”
“Issy to her friends.”
Ignoring Taylor’s dig, J.B. said, “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Sapphie convinced Issy to give you one more shot. Good luck.” Taylor got into his SUV.
J.B. sat in his car after Kenny and Taylor drove away, staring at the paper, wondering what he should do next.
Before he could second-guess himself, he plugged her address into his GPS. Thirty minutes later, which included a detour to a local florist, he pulled up outside Bella’s—Issy’s—apartment complex.
She’d been this close all along.
It was a nice-looking, two-story, U-shaped building, with a couple dozen apartments. Each had big windows, with dark red shutters, and their own balcony or patio. Rolling lawns, lots of trees and flowerbeds and a central lake. Similar to the apartment he’d had when he’d first come up to the show, only his had been down in Edgewater—in the hub of the bustling riverfront community and a ferry ride from Manhattan—instead of a suburban small town.
A stark reminder of how they wanted different things from life. Which was all well and good, but those lives were now indelibly intertwined and he couldn’t see how either of them could get what they wanted.
J.B. turned off the engine, picked up the bouquet and got out of the car. Judging by the number, Issy lived on the second floor, but her front door was at ground level. He crossed the parking lot and stood outside her door.
What was the worst that could happen?
He pressed the doorbell. Part of him hoped she’d be out.
His breath hitched as he heard her door unlock.
“Oh. It’s you.” Her icy tone and inscrutable expression weren’t encouraging. She didn’t exactly throw the door open for him, either. Crap.
“Hi.” He thrust the bouquet toward her. “These are for you.”
She didn’t accept the flowers. “What do you want, J.B.?”
Okay. He could cut to the chase. “To apologize. For the other night.”
When she didn’t say anything, didn’t even blink, he exhaled heavily. Looked like he was in that worst-case scenario. “Can I come inside? I don’t really want to discuss this on your doorstep. I’m sure you don’t, either.”
Wariness crept into her eyes as she studied his face.
“Please, just hear me out,” he added.
Finally she stepped back and opened the door wider. “You’d better come in.”
CHAPTER NINE
J.B. WAS IN her living room. All gorgeous and broody.
Issy’s heart pounded. She’d forgotten how big he was; how tall and broad. He made her apartment seem small. He filled her cozy living room and made her lovingly restored flea-market-find furniture appear delicate and fragile.
She hadn’t expected him here so quickly. Issy had thought he’d call first. Give her time to steel herself.
J.B. cleared his throat. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. It’s the perfect size for me, two beds and two baths, and ideally situated.” She groaned inwardly. He didn’t need a Realtor’s sales spiel.
They stared at each other. J.B. seemed uneasy; lacking his usual self-confident swagger. Issy wasn’t sure how to start the conversation they needed to have. She decided to take her lead from J.B. If he ever spoke another word.
He held out the flowers again. “I remembered you liked daisies and mums.”
Don’t be impressed.
He probably had a little black book with all that information recorded.
“Thank you,” she said finally, taking the bouquet. “I should put them in water.”
J.B. followed her into the kitchen.
“They’re lovely,” she acknowledged as she strained to reach the top shelf.
“Which vase would you like?”
J.B. leaned past her and his freshly showered scent surrounded her. “Uh, the cut-glass one, please.”
She stepped back, not wanting to be affected by his closeness. “They didn’t build these cupboards with short people in mind. They must expect everyone to be tall.” She rolled her eyes at her own babbling.
“Maybe they think most people never need stuff they put on that top shelf.” He smiled. “Feel free to call me anytime you need something.”
“Not exactly convenient.”
For several seconds they said nothing, just looked at each other.
Issy broke the connection first, turning away to deal with the bouquet. She filled the vase, snipped the ends of the stalks and arranged the blooms. Then she carried the vase through to the living room and placed it on the mantel.
J.B. walked over to her patio doors and looked out. He didn’t seem to know what to do. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Great view.”
“One of the reasons I bought this place. They do a great job of making it look pretty all year round.” Enough with the chatter already! “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Silence. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Issy waited. And waited. Finally she sat in her rocking chair. “Have a seat.” She indicated the sofa.
“I’m okay standing.”
Silence again. At this rate, it would be dark before he said what he’d come here for.
He began to pace. “I’m not proud of my reaction. I was shocked and took it out on you. I’m sorry.” He stopped in front of her, crouching so their eyes were level. “I know I’m the father of the baby. It’s not the way I wanted to have a child, but then, it’s not like you planned it this way, either.”
Issy’s jaw dropped. She quickly recovered. “Definitely not.”
J.B. rose and resumed pacing. “The problem is... I don’t want to be tied down. I don�
��t want to be a husband or significant other.”
Even though she’d expected as much, she couldn’t help being disappointed.
He halted in front of the patio doors again. Staring out, he said softly, “I’m not ready to be a father.”
“Our baby doesn’t need a halfhearted dad.”
His back stiffened and he turned to face her. “I’d never half-ass it. For sure, not with our child.”
Issy said nothing, but she was sure he could read her skepticism.
He continued, his words clipped. “Just because our definitions of commitment aren’t the same doesn’t mean we don’t want the same thing. Doing the best for our kid doesn’t mean we need to be married or even living together.”
Her disappointment grew. “Why are you here? You’ve said you’re sorry. Apology accepted. You believe the baby’s yours. Great. Other than that, nothing’s changed.”
“Sure it has. I’m prepared to support you one hundred percent, so that you can have this baby with no worries.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Issy wanted him to spell it out.
“I’ll cover your medical expenses. I’ll put you and the baby on my health insurance. Once the kid is born, I’ll pay you a generous monthly allowance—all signed and legal—so you don’t have any financial concerns.”
Money.
She should have known. She had known.
“You won’t have to work, unless you want to, until our child is in school.” He rubbed his jaw. “I’m sorry you lost your job. I didn’t mean to sabotage you.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Anyway, you won’t have to worry about money or security.”
Damn him. For knowing what mattered—for her and, more importantly, for her child. No uncertainty. No fear about where the next meal was coming from or whether there would be a roof over her head.
“I appreciate your offer. Thank you.”
His gaze narrowed. “What’s the problem?”
He really didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that security included emotional stability and certainty, too. Knowing you were cared for, loved. Knowing someone was there for you, every day. “There’s more to being a father than sending a check every month.”
“I know. And by the time the kid is old enough to need a father—to toss a ball with or to go to a game with—I’ll be ready. I’m just not ready now.”
She wanted to smack him. “There’s also more to being a father than that. Don’t you want to be there to help your child learn to walk and talk? To watch them develop a personality?”
“I can do all that without putting a ring on your finger.” He began to pace again. “I can’t give you what you want. This is the best I can do.”
“This isn’t about me wanting to get married.” She clenched the arms of her rocker. “It isn’t about me at all.”
“Then what is it about?”
“The two of us providing a strong, nurturing environment for our child.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing? You don’t have a job. Without that, you won’t be able to hold on to this place. Without the financial security I’m offering, you won’t be able to provide our child that strong, nurturing environment at all.”
That he was right only fueled her anger. She jumped up. “It’s not fair to our child for you to pick and choose which parts of his or her life you want to be involved in. You have to make your mind up, J.B. Either you’re committed fully, from day one, or you aren’t. Make a decision and stick with it.”
He stopped in front of her, arms crossed.
“I won’t hold it against you if you choose not to be involved, J.B. Frankly, I’d prefer honesty over doing what you think you should.”
“So it’s your way or the highway? No compromise, no negotiation.” His lip curled.
“I don’t see much compromise from you. Just ‘hey, babe, let me shower you with money so I don’t have to be a grown-up.’”
“At least I’m not insisting on a lie. You don’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry you.”
“We don’t have to be married or even live together.” She threw up her hands in frustration and spun away before turning back to face him. “We have to be committed to being parents.”
“I don’t see the difference.”
Issy rubbed her temples, trying to ease the headache that was building. “You can’t flit in and out of this child’s life when it suits you. To be a proper father, you have to be involved in every part of this child’s life, from birth until they’re an adult.”
“What if I don’t want that?”
“Then get the hell out of both of our lives and stay away.”
* * *
“IF I WALK away for good, the money’s off the table.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, J.B. wanted to snatch them back. He didn’t mean what he’d said.
The tack Bella—Issy had taken had knocked him on his ass, and he’d reacted without thinking.
Jeez, why was it every time he opened his mouth he dug himself a deeper hole?
Issy walked to the stairs. “The front door’s that way. Please use it.” Her tone dripped with disgust.
J.B. shook his head. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about.” Issy tilted her chin. “I’m glad we’ve clarified what you mean by ‘one hundred percent support.’ Whatever it takes, my baby and I will get through this without your money. So you can leave with your bank balance and your precious lifestyle intact.” She gestured for him to get going.
My baby. As if his presence in the kid’s life could be wiped away as easily as a Zamboni cleaning chippy ice. That stung, as though he’d been speared in the gut.
“Hold up.” J.B. spread his hands in a gesture of appeal. “Let’s take a step back. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
Issy rolled her eyes. “Which part didn’t you mean this time?”
“About cutting off the money. Whether I’m involved like you want me to be, or not, I’m sending you money.”
She shrugged. “Well, it is only money and you have plenty of that. It’s not like you have to give up anything important, like time.”
“That’s not fair.” Damn it! He couldn’t win for losing.
“No, it isn’t.”
“You can’t deny that financial security is important to you.”
“No,” she acknowledged. “But it’s not the only kind of security.”
“I would never intentionally let our child down,” he protested. Even as he spoke, he felt the noose tightening around his neck.
“My parents ‘intended’ to have food in the house. Unfortunately alcohol was stronger than their intentions.”
“You can’t compare me to them.”
“It’ll be hard for you to give up everything you still want to do because a child needs you.” She laid her hand on his arm. “That’s okay. Really it is. But just because I understand, doesn’t mean a child will. And they shouldn’t have to.”
Why couldn’t he grab the easy way out she was offering him?
If he was honest, J.B. wasn’t sure what he wanted. He only knew what he didn’t want: to have to decide whether to give up his lifestyle or his child. The problem was he didn’t know how he could have both.
He needed time to think.
“You can’t expect me to make such an important decision just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “This isn’t only about the next few months, or even years, but my whole future.”
“Because it’s all about you.”
“Yes, it is. You were pretty quick to decide what you wanted, so you’re all set. The baby doesn’t get a whole lot of choice in the matter. The only person who still has to make a decision is me. And I won’t be rushed into anything.” He held out his hands, palms up. “Look, I’m only asking for a little more time.”
“Why, when we both know what your answer will be?” She jammed her hands on her hips.
&nbs
p; Her ready assumption about the route he’d choose pissed him off. “You may have wonderful clairvoyant skills, but as a mere mortal I’d prefer to work things through for myself.” He took a deep breath, trying hard not to lose his temper. “The least you can do is give me a week.”
Issy’s gaze narrowed. “Once you sign the papers, there will be no changing your mind. I can’t live with the uncertainty. I won’t keep looking over my shoulder, wondering when you’re going to storm back into our lives. Or worse, decide to sue me for custody.”
He stiffened. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“So you say. You can’t guarantee you won’t change your mind on that, too.”
J.B. opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. She was right. Even if he couldn’t imagine a scenario where it would happen, he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t. Knowing his luck, fate would throw something at him to screw with his best intentions.
“This is a huge decision that will have a monumental impact on both our lives.”
“If you care even the littlest bit for me, you won’t make me wait.”
“All I’m asking is for a week. Please.”
She sighed heavily. “All right. One week.”
“I promise I’ll make a decision and I’ll stick to it.”
Issy nodded, then led the way to the front door.
Their goodbye was stilted.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that she waited until he was in his car before closing the front door.
As J.B. drove home, his cell beeped several times with texts from his teammates asking where he was.
A group of the single guys usually hung out at a local sports bar the night before a game. He’d found it a good way to relax and prepare for the following day.
By contrast, the married guys went home to spend time that was so precious during the season with their families.
Two sides of the very coin he had to toss.
Was he ready to give up his single lifestyle? To make a decision he’d be happy to live with... forever?
The alternative was to give up his child.
If only he could delay making a decision until this season was over. He’d be another year older. He’d be one year closer to retirement. He might even have won the Cup. Or he might be seriously injured, like Ike had been last year, and have hardly played. All of those things would make a difference.
