by Anna Sugden
When he arrived in New York, a limo driver was waiting to whisk him to the hospital. He made a mental note to thank Tracy—she’d thought of every detail.
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when his phone rang. Tracy.
“Is Issy okay?” The words burst from him before she’d said hello.
“So far, so good.” As if she’d read his mind, she continued. “Don’t worry. I’m calling to update you. I know being out of the loop while you’re traveling is hellish.”
J.B. inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his jerky pulse. “Thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve gone above and beyond.”
“That’s what friends are for. You’d do the same for me.”
As he looked out the window at the view from the GW Bridge down the Hudson, J.B. was chagrined, wondering if he would.
Once again she seemed to know his thoughts. “You took care of me the night Ike was injured. You helped me hold it together.”
That was hardly in the same league, but he let it go. “What’s going on? Did they manage to stop the contractions?”
“No. They haven’t been able to do anything and the doctor decided it’s causing too much stress both to Issy and the baby. She thinks it’s best to get the baby delivered as quickly as possible. Maggie’s in with Issy, so she’s not alone.”
His feet pressed against the carpet, as if he could make the limo go faster.
“They’ll be all right, won’t they?” He was asking for a reassurance that Tracy couldn’t give, but he needed something to hang on to.
She didn’t blow smoke up his ass. “Issy’s in the best place. They have great facilities and there’s an experienced team working their butts off to make sure this goes smoothly. Getting her here as quickly as you did really helped.”
He’d never been so relieved to see the Welcome to New Jersey sign. “We’re ten to fifteen minutes out.”
Tracy told him where to go when he arrived. “I’ll meet you and bring you up here.”
The last leg of the journey was one where time slowed. J.B. was practically bouncing off the doors when the lights of the hospital appeared ahead. As promised, Tracy was waiting in the entrance.
J.B. jumped out of the Town Car before the driver could open his door and raced up to her. She hugged him tight. He gave in to the comfort for a moment, absorbing her strength, then raised his head and scanned her face.
She grinned. “Perfect timing. Everything went well, and mother and baby are fine. They’re just cleaning them both up. You should be able to see them right away.”
He grabbed the back of the nearest chair and held on until he could move without falling over. He sent a heartfelt thank-you heavenward.
It was only as they got into the elevator that his brain cleared enough to ask, “What did she have?”
“I don’t want to spoil the surprise,” Tracy replied.
The waiting room was filled with Cats’ wives and girlfriends. He was touched so many had come to support Issy. He accepted hugs and congratulations, but what he really wanted was to see Issy and Peanut.
Maggie appeared in the doorway. “They’re ready for you now. Congratulations, Dad.”
Holy crap. He was a father.
J.B. wasn’t able to process the emotions running through him, other than the slight feeling of panic, as he followed Maggie down the hall. He should have brought flowers. Maybe something for the baby.
When she stopped at the door of a private room to let him pass, he hesitated. The moment he stepped over that threshold, his life would change forever.
Don’t be a nimrod. His life had already changed. Walking into the room wouldn’t do anything to him or his life, except prove that Issy was okay. And he’d get to meet their baby. He stepped forward.
For a woman who’d gone through such trauma over the past several hours, Issy looked remarkably well, if a little pale and tired. Her smile when she saw him warmed his heart and started to melt the icy grip that fear had had on him since he’d last spoken with her.
“Hey,” he said gruffly as he leaned over to kiss her.
“You’re here.”
“I promised I’d come.”
“Yes, you did.”
His gaze was drawn to the bundle she cradled in her arms. “Everything’s okay?”
“It is now.” She smoothed the blanket around the baby and lifted it so he could see. “Say hello to your daughter.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
J. B. LAROCQUE HAD never been in love...until now.
One flutter of those baby blues and he was a goner. Perfectly formed—from her shock of dark hair and her pink rosebud mouth, down to her tiny fingers—his daughter was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
And the most terrifying.
She was so small. Looked so fragile. He didn’t dare touch her.
For a man famous for his “magic touch,” on and off the ice, he was ridiculously nervous about doing something wrong. Tentatively he reached out and caressed her soft cheek.
He almost jumped when she clenched her tiny fists and waved them in the air. He stroked the back of one little hand and was taken aback when she caught his finger in a surprisingly tight grip. She looked up at him and their gazes met for the first time.
Love welled up inside him. His eyes burned. His throat tightened. He wanted to speak, to say something to his daughter, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Would you like to hold her?” Issy asked gently.
Hell, no! Hell, yes! He wanted, desperately, to cuddle that precious bundle, but he felt huge and awkward and clumsy.
He cleared his throat. “What if I damage her?”
Issy laughed softly. “Given what she’s been through in the past few hours, I think you can safely say she’s one tough little cookie.”
“Like her mom.” He reached out and trailed a finger down Issy’s cheek, just as he’d done with the baby. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
Issy covered his hand with hers. “You came as soon as you could. You didn’t have to. I can’t tell you what that means. Other than Sapphie, no one’s ever been there for me before.”
“I didn’t want you to go through this alone.” He hitched a shoulder, as if it was no big deal. He didn’t want to admit how scared he’d been.
“It was nice of Maggie and everyone to come here, too. Especially since they don’t really know me.”
“They know me.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. “They’re a supportive group.”
“I suppose being a hockey wife is kind of like being a military wife. Everyone has to stick together and look out for each other to survive.”
“Yeah.” The topic of wives wasn’t one he wanted to explore right now. Not when his emotions were so raw. “Are you okay? You haven’t had an easy ride of it yourself.”
“Now Peanut is here safely, I feel wonderful.” Her lips twisted. “Though I expect once the drugs they gave me have faded, I’ll feel sore and ache all over.”
J.B. winced. He didn’t need to think about that, either. He was amazed she could even sit up. “How long are they keeping you in for?”
“A few days. Mainly to monitor Peanut. Even though she’s early, they think she’s developed enough not to need to be in Intensive Care. Her lungs are fine and she’s positive on all the other measures. She had a surprisingly good Apgar score, considering everything. Obviously she’s got to put on some weight and they want to check how she feeds. But they don’t think there will be any problems.” She nuzzled the baby. “You’re absolutely perfect.”
Issy connecting with their child made him feel warm through and through. “You can’t keep calling her Peanut. I thought you’d decided on a name.”
Issy had tried to discuss names with him before the baby was born, but he’d insisted that was something she should do herself. Now, he kind of wished he’d paid more attention.
“I did, but I wanted to make sure it suited her once she arrived. Pl
us, I know you said you didn’t want to be involved, but I’d like you to at least approve of what I’ve chosen. She’s your baby, too.”
His argument died in his throat at her steady look. “Right now, all I can think of is that she’s as beautiful as her mama and she needs a name to fit. A mini you. Bellita.”
Issy blushed. “I agree about her being beautiful, but I don’t want her name connected with my family. We’re all Belles—Isabelle, Rosabelle and Tinkabelle.”
J.B. arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? Like the fairy?”
“Spelled differently, but, yes.” She shook her head. “We call my niece Tinka.”
And he thought his family’s Quebecois tradition of double first names was weird. “So what name did you choose?”
Issy smiled down at their daughter. “Sophia Ellen. Sophia is similar to Sapphire. It’s what Sapphie used to call herself because she hated her name. She got teased terribly about it when we were younger.”
“Because it’s a gemstone?”
Issy wrinkled her nose. “Because of the p-p in the middle.”
J.B. groaned. “Kids are cruel.” Then something dawned on him. “My mom’s Ellen.”
“I know. You told me. She sounds like a special woman, so I thought it would be nice if our baby had her name, too.”
“Thanks. That’s really thoughtful.” He was touched.
And a tad guilty. He’d have to find a way to tell his parents that they had a new granddaughter. And figure out how to deal with the inevitable questions about his relationship with Issy and the future. None of which he had an answer to. At least not one that would satisfy everyone, let alone himself.
That was for another time.
“Sophia Ellen. I like it. A perfect name for a perfect little girl.”
“Would you like to hold Sophia?” Issy lifted the bundle toward him, giving him little choice but to accept.
He froze; his arms stuck out awkwardly. “What if I hold her wrong?”
“You can’t. Support her head and backside and you’ll be fine.”
Issy’s quiet confidence broke through the white noise that clouded his brain. If she could trust him to hold the most precious thing in her life, then he should trust himself. It wasn’t as if he’d never held a baby before, for crying out loud.
This was different. Way different.
He looked down at his daughter. Sophia’s unfocused baby gaze met his. She lay there calmly, unfazed by her father’s panic.
Okay. He could definitely do this. J.B. eased down to sit on the edge of Issy’s bed, then slowly, carefully, brought the blanket-wrapped baby into his body. He was glad there was no one other than Issy in the room to see him so out of his element.
As Sophia’s warmth seeped through to him, he began to relax. Wave after wave of emotion washed over him. Awestruck that he’d been part of creating this beautiful little girl, his heart swelled.
Unaware of what a momentous occasion it was for her father, Sophia yawned and her eyelids drooped. He watched carefully to make sure she continued to breathe. When he was convinced she was simply sleeping, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Jake was right. J.B. could never have imagined he’d feel this way about a baby. Possessive. Protective.
Sophia was his. His daughter. His baby girl. His Bellita.
Holy crap. God or the fates or whoever the hell was in charge of karma was having a big old belly laugh at him.
J.B. had made a mistake assuming he could stay detached from this child. Right now he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep Sophia safe. He was shocked to feel a primal urge to roar and wave his broadsword at all comers. No one would hurt his girl.
His girl? Nice sentiment, but what did that mean?
All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to let Issy or Sophia go.
He laid Sophia in the hospital bassinet beside Issy’s bed and tried to figure out what to say.
But she was ahead of the game. “You’ve changed your mind about custody of Sophia.”
He couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or disappointed. Her voice and expression held no emotion.
“Yes...no...kind of.”
“Well, that pretty much covers every option.” Her short laugh had an underlying edge, the only sign of her tension.
“I don’t know what I want to do.” He puffed out a breath. “I don’t want to walk away from Sophia or you. I don’t want to sign away my paternity rights. Sophia is my daughter and I don’t want to deny that.”
“I see.” A tiny frown creased her forehead.
“The problem is,” he continued, “I don’t know how I want things to work. I promise I won’t take custody from you. But beyond that I need time to figure it all out.”
“I understand it’s unsettling,” she said carefully. “This is something you’ve never experienced before. Sophia’s turned my world upside down, and I was expecting it, so I can imagine how you feel. I don’t have a problem with giving you time to adjust, but what happens in the meantime?”
He didn’t have a freaking clue. “Can’t we play it by ear?”
“By ‘it,’ do you mean our relationship or parenting our baby?”
J.B. paced beside her bed, thinking irrationally again that he should have brought flowers. The room looked bare and clinical.
“Both. Look, I know my decision will impact all our lives, especially that little one’s. And that we can’t chop and change—we’ll need to plot a course and stick to it. But there are a bunch of factors to evaluate and I want to do it properly.”
“I get that, but what does it mean? I need to know what to expect from you.”
He inhaled deeply. “We carry on with our relationship as it was before Sophia arrived. You and she settle down at home and we see how I fit into that.”
“Don’t you mean how we fit into your life?” Though her words sounded brittle, her tone was matter-of-fact.
“That, too. I need to see if there’s a way to make it work, so we’re all happy.”
He could tell she wasn’t convinced but she simply said, “Fine. We’ll take it one day at a time and see how it pans out.”
“Thank you. I...”
She held up a hand to stop him. “You have until the end of the season to figure it out.”
“By ‘season,’ do you mean the regular season or the end of the Cats’ run for the Cup?” he asked lightly, though his gut twisted as he awaited her response.
“Negotiating terms already?” Her tone matched his.
“I want to be clear. Until we win the Cup or we’re done in the playoffs, my focus will be on one thing. There are times when hockey comes first. The postseason is one of them. Are you willing to accept that?”
She was silent for several moments, during which he actually felt sick with nerves.
“All right,” she said finally. “You have until the day after you win the Cup or your postseason ends.”
“Thank you.” He leaned closer and kissed her until they were both breathless.
“Now, I’d better leave you to get some rest. I also need to find out whether or not the Cats expect me in Buffalo in the morning.” He bent over the crib and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Sleep well, Bellita.”
At the door he waved goodbye to his girls. Funny how easily those words came.
Issy blew him a kiss in return.
J.B. went to the waiting room and thanked the women there for supporting Issy. He hugged Maggie and Tracy.
“I owe you both big time.” His voice cracked.
Tracy’s laugh was watery. “Don’t think we won’t collect.”
“Just remember, we have a vested interest in Issy and Sophia’s well-being now,” Maggie said sternly. “Mess with them and you answer to us.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
J.B. managed to keep it together until he was in the hospital lobby. His knees gave out and he sank into one of the chairs in the waiting area. Then, hand trembling, he pulled out his cell and c
alled Mad Dog.
Taylor’s hello was drowned out by cheers, cat calls and yelled congratulations. From the raucous response, he guessed they were on the team bus heading to their hotel. He filled his friend in briefly on what had happened, including how he’d left things with Issy.
“What does Coach want me to do about tomorrow’s game?”
“It’s up to you. He’s good, either way.”
For the first time in his career, J.B. was torn. He’d never refused the chance to play for any reason, let alone for a woman. Two women, he corrected himself. The game in Buffalo wasn’t hugely important; the Cats were so far ahead in the division standings that making the playoffs wasn’t an issue. Still, he hated to let the guys down.
The image of that beautiful baby, lying in his arms, her gaze fixed on his, popped into his head. “I’ll stay and catch up with you guys when you return.”
Once he’d hung up, J.B. took a deep breath and dialed his parents’ farm. Now that he would definitely be part of Sophia’s life, he needed to tell them about her and Issy. They deserved to find out from him rather than the media.
When his mom answered, he said, “Hey, Ma. It’s your favorite son.”
“Marc Andre? Is that you?”
They both laughed at the old joke.
“How are you?” his mom asked.
“I’m good. Are you sitting down? Because I’ve got some news.”
* * *
“HAVE I MENTIONED that my goddaughter is the most beautiful child in the world?”
Issy rolled her eyes at Sapphie. “Only a few thousand times.”
They were enjoying a rare day together. Sapphie had finished her research and was about to start writing her final report for Marty Antonelli. Frustrated that because of work, she hadn’t had a chance over the past month to meet Sophia, Sapphie had flown in for the weekend. She hadn’t put Sophia down since she’d arrived—except for diaper changes.
“Mommy’s just jealous.” Sapphie cast a disparaging look at Issy, who was folding freshly washed baby clothes, then rubbed noses with Sophia. “You look gorgeous in your new candy-striped onesie and matching headband, while she’s in faded, baggy sweats with her hair in a scrunchy.”
