He just wasn't used to it, that was all. And he wondered how Aaron and Harland did it, how they got used to it. Did they just develop a way to block the noise and somehow not hear it at all?
Although maybe it was different in Harland's case, since his son, Noah, was deaf. The kid still made noise though, breathless grunts and wheezes nearly as loud as the girls' laughter.
Travis reached for his glass of iced tea then nearly knocked it over when Aaron leaned to the side and yelled into the other room, telling the kids to quiet it down. Aaron's loud admonishment earned him a laughing look from Harland's wife, Courtney.
Savannah, Aaron's girlfriend, simply rolled her eyes as she pushed away from the large island counter. "You're as bad as they are."
"What? I was just telling them to quiet it down."
"Probably would have been more effective if you had gone in there and told them instead of shouting from here." Savannah pulled a pitcher from the refrigerator and brought it over, refilling everyone's glasses. "I'm just glad neither one of us was on the phone when you bellowed."
"I didn't bellow."
Savannah made a small little hum, a grin teasing the corners of her mouth before she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on Aaron's jaw. Travis averted his gaze, feeling like a voyeur—which was ridiculous. The kiss was nothing more than a peck, certainly nothing requiring privacy. But it wasn't so much the kiss as it was the expression in Savannah's eyes—and the matching one on Aaron's face. Love. Pure and simple. Not just love, but friendship and companionship as well. And while Travis was happy for Aaron, he still felt a little like an intruder.
So he wrapped his hands around the glass and stared into it, pretending to be deep in thought. The ruse didn't work very well because Harland kicked him under the table with a laugh.
"You're blushing, Banky."
"I am not."
"You are."
"Harland, stop teasing." Courtney offered Travis a quick smile, which made his face heat even more. "Just ignore him."
Travis simply nodded, not sure what to say. Harland muttered something under his breath with a quick laugh then slid his chair away from the table and stood up. He moved into the other room, his voice a low rumble when he spoke. He returned a few minutes later, a squirming toddler tossed over his shoulder.
"Here. Spend some time with Uncle Trav. He needs to get used to kids."
Noah was unceremoniously dumped in his lap. Travis froze, staring down into eyes wide with surprise. Noah's mouth pursed and for one horrifying second, Travis was afraid the kid would start crying or something. Then he smiled, the chubby fingers of one hand moving as he held a small toy truck up with the other.
Travis looked closer then had to bite back a smile. It wasn't a toy truck, it was a toy Zamboni. Of course it was.
Harland nudged him with an elbow. "He wants you to play with him."
"Play? I'm not sure—"
"Play, Banky. It's not that hard. Just get down on the ground and play. You know—move the car around and make zoom zoom noises. Play."
"But it's not a car."
"Doesn't matter, same thing." Harland leaned back in the chair, his smile softening as he watched his son. His eyes—the exact same whiskey shade as Noah's—darted back to pin Travis in place. "It'll be good practice for you. Unless you have a girl. If that's the case, you're going to need to talk to Pop because I'm clueless."
Heat filled Travis's face once more, this time from embarrassment. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, wondering if the two women had heard. Of course they had. How could they not, when they were only a few feet away?
And even if they hadn't, it didn't matter. They both knew there was a strong possibility that he was going to be a father. That's why they were here—Savannah and Courtney were the ones making the phone calls. They were the ones going through the long list of unknown numbers in his phone, calling each one, asking for Cara.
What must they be thinking? Travis didn't know but he was sure it couldn't be good. There was a total of fifty-one unknown numbers in his phone, each one belonging to a different woman. Did the two of them think he'd actually been with all of them? God, he hoped not. Mortification nearly paralyzed him with the thought. He liked Courtney and Savannah, even though he didn't know them that well. But he knew enough, just by seeing how happy Harland and Aaron were. He didn't want either woman thinking poorly of him, didn't want them thinking the worst.
Noah grunted then placed his small hand on Travis's face, trying to get his attention. Travis looked down, blinked at the wide eyes starting up at him. A cute grin curled Noah's mouth as he held the tiny Zamboni up. Then he jumped up and down in Travis's lap, one foot connecting solidly with his groin. Travis sucked in a deep breath, doing his best not to double over, doing his best to pretend it didn't hurt.
Aaron and Harland both started laughing, which did nothing to relieve the dull ache he was feeling.
"You should have listened when I said to play on the floor. Those feet have perfect aim."
"Yeah. I can tell." Travis wrapped one arm around Noah's waist and shifted him to the side before standing. He took a minute to readjust, making sure his back was turned to the women, then lowered Noah to the ground. He sat down beside him on the floor and stretched his legs out, letting Noah use each one as a roadway. Or an ice rink. Or...whatever.
Aaron turned toward Savannah. "How are the calls coming?"
"Slow. We're just over halfway through the list."
"You know it's going to be the very last number you call, right?"
"We already thought of that. So Courtney started at the top of the list and I started at the bottom."
"It's still going to be the last number. It always is." Harland turned to face Travis, a small frown on his face. "Banky, you have to make the zoom zoom noises."
"But I don't—"
"Don't care. Just make them."
Travis swallowed back a sigh then leaned forward, his voice a low whisper as he made the zoom zoom noises. More heat filled his face when his teammates laughed and he almost stopped, feeling like the world's biggest ass. What was he doing, sitting on the floor playing cars and making zoom zoom noises when Noah couldn't even hear him? Harland had probably done this on purpose, just to embarrass him or something.
He started to get up but before he could get to his feet, Noah climbed back in his lap. Wide eyes filled with innocence watched him for a few long seconds—then two tiny little arms wrapped around his neck. Noah rested his head against Travis's shoulder, made a little sigh, then curled up against him.
Travis froze, unsure what to do. Panic clawed at him for a brief second before his brain finally engaged. There was no reason to panic—Noah was simply relaxing. Or maybe he was just tired. But why was he with Travis, instead of Harland? Was this normal?
Travis released the breath he was holding, told himself to stop reading into things. Then, still hesitating, he wrapped one arm around Noah and rubbed the little boy's back. Small little circles, the motion almost hypnotic. Noah sighed, his body relaxing even more, becoming a little heavier as he settled more comfortably in Travis's lap.
A lump filled his throat and he swallowed past it, calling himself a fool. This was Harland's kid, not his. There was no reason to suddenly feel this sentimental tug. It was irrational, didn't make sense. And God help him if any of his teammates ever found about it—he'd never live it down.
A spurt of guilt rushed through him and he looked up, wondering if Harland or Aaron had noticed. He didn't think either one of them would say anything—they were the only dads on the team, they'd probably understand. That didn't mean he wanted them to witness that brief moment of vulnerability—
Too late. His gaze caught Harland's and he saw—felt—the other man's understanding. Harland grinned and nodded toward his son, curled up against Travis. "Those are the moments that make it all worth it, Banky."
"Is it? Worth it, I mean." He kept his voice low so he wouldn't disturb Noah—and so Courtney wo
uldn't hear.
"It's worth more than I can even begin to explain."
Travis nodded, risked a quick glance across the room. Courtney and Savannah were still sitting at the island counter, both of them on their phones.
Still making calls.
Still trying to find Cara.
Travis swallowed and turned back to Harland. "Any regrets?"
Harland was quiet for a long time, his gaze intense as he watched his son. Then he looked at Travis, a sad smile on his face. "Only that I wasn't there at the beginning. Only that I missed the first two years of his life. Those are big enough. And I'd do anything to go back and do it over to make sure I didn't miss it."
Travis looked away, no longer able to meet the intensity of Harland's gaze. Noah had been two when Harland found out about him—not because Courtney hadn't told him, but because Harland hadn't believed her. Then he'd been called up to the Banners, where he'd been playing until his attitude and antics had gotten him in trouble. The Banners had sent him back here to York near the end of the season before last. That was when he learned about Noah—and had been ready to accept the truth.
Travis glanced down at the little boy in his arms. What would it be like to miss the first few years of your child's life? To not see their first smile or hear their first word? To miss the first time they rolled over or crawled or took that first step?
What would it be like to miss the years after that, like Aaron had? He and his wife had divorced and she moved across the country, taking his girls with her. He hadn't seen them more than a few times in the last four years. That had changed this past summer when his ex-wife passed away and Brooke and Isabelle had come out here to live with him.
And it was all well and good to be sitting here, thinking of Harland and Aaron and what they had missed. But it didn't help him at all, not when he had no idea what to do.
So what did he want? He still wasn't sure.
Aaron and Harland had both been very careful not to give him advice—but they had also been not-so-subtly letting him see what it was like to be a father.
Dustin and Kyle and a few of the other guys had simply shrugged, not bothering to hide their surprise. Not giving him advice one way or the other. And letting him know that they were just glad it was him instead of them.
Then there was Ben. Ben was dead-set against the whole thing, telling Travis more than once that he'd be better off if Cara got rid of it—if it was even his to begin with. But what the hell did Ben know? He talked a big game, always did and said the right things when they were all together...but Travis didn't buy it. There was something deeper to Ben, something he did his best to hide from everyone. Travis could hear it in the bitterness that sometimes edged his voice; he could see it in the ice that sometimes lingered in the other man's eyes.
None of that mattered, though. His teammates were his second family but, in the end, their opinions were just that: their opinions. What mattered was what Travis wanted.
What did he want?
Travis watched Noah, seeing him without really seeing him. In his mind's eye, he was seeing another child. A baby with thick brown hair like its mother's. A toddler with smoky gray eyes like its father's—like his own.
What did he want?
A steely determination settled over him. There was still doubt, still a little fear—but no more than could be expected. And Travis knew—as sure as he knew his own name—that he didn't want to miss it. Any of it. He wanted to be there for everything. All of it.
He wanted his child.
And suddenly, everything clicked, all the little pieces falling into place to make a whole. This was right, what he wanted. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing, maybe he really was too young, maybe this would change his entire life—but he didn't care.
He wanted his child as much as he wanted his next breath. More than that, even.
Travis swallowed, clenched his jaw, felt his back stiffen as determination washed over him. Preparing himself, mentally and physically, just like he did before every game. Only this wasn't a game—this was a thousand times more important. And he'd be facing more obstacles than he'd ever faced in any game before—starting with Cara.
Because what if she didn't want the baby? What if she wanted to terminate the pregnancy? He had no say in her decision at all. But what if he could talk to her, maybe convince her to let him keep the baby after it was born? If she didn't want it. Maybe she did. Maybe she was planning on keeping it and raising it as a single mother.
He clenched his jaw again, a muscle twitching in his cheek with the pressure. If she thought she could keep him away from his child, she was going to be in for a big surprise—
Travis released the breath he'd been holding, forced himself to relax. He was getting a little ahead of himself, wasn't he? Already planning for a fight when he had no idea what Cara even intended to do. He needed to talk to her first. They both needed to talk.
Travis looked over, trying to swallow back disappointment as he watched Courtney and Savannah make their phone calls. Doubt filled him for a brief second—how could he think he was ready to be a father when he wasn't even smart enough to get a woman's phone number? He pushed the doubt away. There was no time for it, not now. Not when Courtney suddenly jumped from the stool, excitement on her face as she turned to Travis.
"This is Cara? Seriously?...No, don't hang up. I'm sorry. I just—I think we have a mutual friend who's been looking for you. Can you hang on?" She hurried over to him, bent down and held the phone out to him. "I think it's her."
Travis stared at the phone, watching it for a long second as his heart thudded in his chest. Then he reached for it, wondered if Courtney—if any of them—saw the way his fingers trembled as he took it. Then he realized he didn't care. Let them notice, that wasn't his problem.
Not anymore.
He tightened his arm around Noah then held the phone to his ear. He cleared his throat, tried to picture Cara in his mind. Was she at home? Working? Or was she out, maybe with friends? Or was she with a date?
A flash of jealousy erupted deep in his gut, surprising him. It didn't matter if she was on a date. She wasn't his girlfriend, they had no obligation to each other.
That realization did nothing to ease the jealousy so he ruthlessly pushed it aside, ignoring it. Then he took a deep breath and finally spoke.
"Cara? This is Travis Bankard. We need to talk."
Chapter Six
The coffee shop sat in its own building, strategically placed near the edge of the large parking lot. It was busy, even in the middle of a weekday afternoon. People strolled in and out, hands wrapped around cups decorated for the upcoming holidays. Laughing and talking with friends or singularly focused on getting to their destination. From her vantage point in the parking lot, Cara could see the tables inside, most of them taken by more patrons. Laptops were opened on the tables, some forgotten in favor of smiling conversation.
Was Travis already in there, waiting for her? She couldn't see—the place was too big for her to see every table through the plate glass window—but she didn't think so. She was early, by at least fifteen minutes.
Which was why she was still sitting in her car, the heater running as she waited. That, and she was trying to work up the courage to actually go inside.
Not because of the crowds. No matter what Anna thought, she wasn't that much of an introvert. But given a choice between hanging with a bunch of noisy strangers or sitting at home and reading, she'd take reading every time. Besides, there was a big difference between being an introvert and being a recluse, something Anna simply didn't understand.
That didn't mean she was in a hurry to sacrifice herself. It was an odd word choice but she couldn't shake the feeling that's what was going to happen today: a sacrifice—namely her. Travis had sound so different on the phone. Harder. A little edgier. Determined.
Or maybe he always sounded that way and she just didn't know him well enough to realize that. She didn't know him at all, had only spent time
with him that one night. And it wasn't like they'd spent that time actually talking. For all she knew, he was really an arrogant, egotistical athlete, full of himself with no cares for anyone else.
Cara didn't think so, though. She thought he was exactly what he appeared to be that night she had shyly hit on him: quiet, friendly, maybe a bit of an introvert himself. He hadn't come across as arrogant or egotistical—if he had, she would have never gone up to him, no matter how hard Anna had insisted.
Insisted? No, it had been more like a dare. A challenge to let loose and relax and do something totally out of character. Cara would have never agreed if she hadn't been drinking.
But she had. Not enough to be drunk, but certainly enough to forget about her inhibitions, at least for a little bit. And yes, maybe a small part of her had wanted to prove to Anna that she could do it. Prove to her roommate that men found her attractive, too.
And yes, her ego had definitely been rewarded when she saw the expression on Anna's face when she found out that Travis was a professional hockey player—and that Cara was leaving with him. The spurt of jealousy. The brief flash of anger.
Not that any of that mattered now. Anna's reaction may have given her ego a boost at the time, but look where it landed her instead.
Single. Pregnant.
Alone.
Cara placed a hand against the flat of her stomach and took a deep breath. She had an appointment Monday morning—ideally to just talk with the doctor, to discuss her options. Then she could either walk out of the appointment, still single and pregnant—
Or just single and alone.
And she still wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Not really. That was why she had agreed to meet Travis this afternoon. She had no idea what he would say, no idea what good meeting him would actually do. But he had called her, had gone to the trouble of finding her, reaching out to her. She could at least listen.
Playing For Love (The York Bombers, #6) Page 4
