"Glad to hear it. But we still need to talk."
"About what?"
"About things. Adult things. Man things."
Tyler grabbed his other shoulder, a broad grin splitting his face. "Like how you're going to woo her this weekend when we go to Mystic's."
"I wasn't—"
"Sure you are. And we're going to tell you exactly how to do it."
Chapter Nineteen
"Surprise!"
Cara stood in the open doorway, shock rendering her speechless as she stared at the five women huddled on the front step. Jenny. Haley. Savannah. Megan. Courtney. She blinked, wondering if she was imagining things, but they were still there.
Still waiting on the front porch.
Cara stepped back and opened the door wider, not knowing what to say as the five women entered the house. Each woman carried a bag filled with goodies—except for Haley. She was juggling three large pizza boxes. The aroma of fresh pepperoni and melted cheese teased Cara's nose as Haley moved past her. Her stomach grumbled and she quickly placed her hand against it, hoping none of the women had heard.
"I knew the pizza would get you. Works every time." Haley winked as she turned into the large country kitchen and placed the pizza boxes on the heavy oak table.
Cara finally closed the door and followed the women into the kitchen, standing there in silence as they unloaded bags. Soda. Bottled tea. Chips and salsa. A veggie platter. Cheese and crackers.
And the pizza.
Cara wanted to ask what they were doing here, wanted to ask why they brought all the food. She couldn't get the words out past her surprise and couldn't think of a way to ask without sounding rude.
She also wasn't sure if they should even be here. This wasn't her house, she had no business having uninvited guests here. The thought of calling Travis briefly crossed her mind but she quickly dismissed it when she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Travis had a game in less than two hours. He was probably already at the arena, doing whatever he needed to do to get ready.
"Don't look so worried, Cara. Travis knows we're here. Zach told him we were going to pop in last night."
"Oh. Um, okay." She watched as Haley pulled paper plates from one of the bags and sat them in the center of the table. Was she telling the truth? She must be—she certainly didn't have a reason to lie. But why hadn't Travis said something last night when they talked?
Haley pulled out a chair and waved her over. "You can come over to join us, you know. That's kind of why we're here."
"It is?"
"Think of it as a belated welcome wagon." Courtney pulled out two bottles of wine then moved across the room, opening and closing cabinets as she searched for something. "You know, I think I'm impressed. I didn't expect Travis to actually have a matching set of wine glasses. I think Harland had exactly two before we got back together."
Cara had no idea how to respond to that so she simply moved across the room and took the seat Haley had pulled out for her. A plate with a slice of pizza was pushed in front of her, along with another plate filled with veggies, cheese and crackers. A minute later, a glass filled with wine was placed next to the plates.
Cara pushed it away, shaking her head. "I can't drink—"
"Don't worry, it's non-alcoholic. Totally safe." Courtney passed the other glasses around then took the last empty seat and raised her glass. "A toast to the newest member of the club. And to the newest Bombers' baby."
Megan waved her hand, signaling everyone to stop before they could drink. "Um, actually, this is going to the be the first Bombers' baby. Noah was already born when Harland came back. Same with Brookie and Isabelle."
"You're right. Which means this is a double-toast. Drink up." Haley raised the glass to her lips then tossed the contents back. She grimaced and shook her head, then put the glass to the side. "Ugh. That's awful. I'm switching to soda."
Cara glanced down at her own glass, frowning. Not because she didn't want to drink it, but because she still had no idea why the five women were here. Someone nudged her in the arm and she looked over as Savannah leaned closer. Sympathy flashed in the woman's eyes even as a gentle smile curled her mouth.
"We didn't mean to overwhelm you by showing up like this. We—Courtney, actually—thought you might like some company since this is the first away-stretch for you."
"Oh. Thank you." Cara tried to smile but it felt stiff on her face. She covered the awkward attempt by taking a sip of the...she frowned, trying to figure out what it was. Not sparkling cider. Apple juice? She took another tentative sip. Yes, it was apple juice.
"And don't worry, this isn't something we do all the time. Maybe once or twice a month during the season. Just a small girls' night out when the guys are away," Jenny explained.
Cara nodded again, still not sure what to say. Haley nudged her from the other side then nodded toward the plates in front of her. "Eat up before the pizza gets cold. Unless you can't eat it. You can eat it, right?"
"Yes, I can definitely eat it." Cara's smile was real this time, relaxed even as she grabbed the slice of pizza and lifted it to her mouth for the first bite.
"What happened to your hand?"
Cara glanced at the bandage—just a small one now, more to keep it clean—then shrugged. "I got bit by a dog at work."
Five heads turned in her direction.
"You were bit?"
"By a dog?"
"Where exactly do you work?"
"What do you do that you can get bit by a dog?"
"I work at Main Street Vet. And yes, I got bit by a dog. His owner had kicked him and I reached down without thinking. It wasn't the dog's fault."
"What an ass. The owner, not you."
"That's pretty much what I was thinking, too."
Megan pushed the sleeves of her flannel shirt up then propped her elbows on the table. "Are you a vet?"
"Who? Me?" Cara shook her head. "No, I'm a Vet Tech. I prepare animals for exam and surgery. Collect and test lab samples, give shots, help with the records. That kind of thing."
"Sounds like fun. Are you going to become a vet?"
"I'd like to, one day."
"Why not now?"
"Money for school, for one thing. Not enough time for another." Cara pressed her hand against her stomach and smiled. "And I have a feeling what little time I do have is going to disappear pretty soon."
"It will." Courtney grabbed a slice of pizza then gave Cara a beautiful smile. "But you'll enjoy every second of it."
Cara glanced down at her hand, covering her still-flat stomach. She didn't feel pregnant, other than the occasional bout of nausea and the sensitivity in her breasts. Would that change? How different would she feel in two months? Four? Seven? And how would things change once she had the baby? She didn't know how to take care of a baby. Animals, yes. But babies?
"I—I think I'm scared." The admission left her in a soft whisper, uttered before she even knew she was going to say it. She looked up at the sudden silence, saw five faces watching her in sympathy.
Courtney pushed away from the table and moved to be next to her, taking Haley's quickly-vacated seat. "It's normal to be scared. There'd be something wrong with you if you weren't."
"But I don't know anything about babies. I don't even know what to expect while I'm pregnant. I have a few books the doctor recommended but—"
"I have one I can give you, if you don't already have it. And you can always ask me." Courtney reached out and squeezed her arm, the touch comforting. "And you'll have the birthing and parenting classes, too. That'll help both of you to be a little better prepared."
"Both of us?"
"Yes. You and Travis."
Cara looked away, a wave of unexpected emotion washing over her. Sadness. Excitement. Uncertainty. "I don't think Travis was planning on going to any classes."
"Why would you think that?"
Cara pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wondering how much to say. Wondering how much she could confide in the women
surrounding her. She didn't know them, not really. But she was already beginning to feel the first tugs of friendship with them, was already feeling as if they were all connected somehow.
And they were: through the men. Teammates. Family. But was she really a part of that?
Part of her wanted to be.
Another part of her was afraid to think about it, afraid of the disappointment that would drown her if things didn't work out.
She took a deep breath and released it, slowly, then glanced around the table. "We haven't really talked much about the baby. Not recently, anyway. I'm not sure if he realizes how things are going to be. How can he, when I don't? He's been so nice—all of you have. But what if he changes his mind? What if he decides being a father isn't what he thought it would be?"
What if he decides he wants no part of any of it?
She didn't ask that last question out loud. She couldn't, not in front of these women who were part of Travis's extended family. That didn't stop her from worrying about it. Didn't stop the fear and doubt from washing over her when she least expected it.
Courtney squeezed her arm again then sat back. "I think you're underestimating Travis. But that's to be expected. You're still getting to know each other. And I could sit here all night and try to convince you how great a guy he is—we all could. But the best thing that you can do is sit down and talk to him."
"I know." And she did. But knowing it and doing it were two totally different things.
It didn't matter. She needed to swallow back her fear and talk to him. Needed to shed her discomfort so they could have the conversations they needed to have. There were so many things they needed to discuss, including their current living arrangements. She was still so confused about what he wanted, not understanding the mixed signals he was sending.
Yesterday morning had been the closest they'd come to doing anything more than kissing. Is that what he wanted, or did he regret it already? How could she be sure, when he kept going out of his way to let her know the guest room was hers now?
"You're going to talk to him?"
Cara looked up, saw Courtney's concerned expression and offered her a faint smile. "Yes. I'll talk to him."
"You should do it tomorrow when he gets home."
"I will."
"And then call me and let me know how it went. Or call if you need help with anything. Not just me—any of us. That's what we're here for."
Cara nodded, almost afraid to believe. But as she looked around at the women surrounding her, she felt the first cracks splinter in the shield she'd kept around her the last few years. Not just cracks—large, gaping holes.
And for the first time in a long time, she started to feel as if she belonged.
Chapter Twenty
The nausea that she thought was long gone returned, unbidden and unwelcome. But it wasn't morning sickness and it had nothing to do with being pregnant.
She stared at Travis, her stomach briefly twisting at the collection of cuts and bruises marring his face. His mouth—his soft, sexy mouth—had a cut on both the top and bottom lip. The left side was slightly swollen, the flesh shadowed with a purple bruise. She wasn't sure if the bruise was from the cut, or for another reason.
Maybe one that had to do with the cut beneath his left eye, the edges held together by a small butterfly bandage. She pressed a hand against her stomach to stop it from clenching and leaned closer, her lips pursing together when she realized the cut should have been stitched, not taped.
Smaller bruises shadowed the flesh under his eyes, making him look as if an amateur make-up artist had applied eye shadow on him the wrong way. A small bump bisected his nose. Broken? Probably.
"It's really not that bad."
"Not that bad?" The words came out as a squeak. She opened her mouth to ask what happened, quickly closed it when her stomach rolled in warning. She spun on her heel and ran to the downstairs bathroom, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet just as her stomach twisted and rebelled.
A gentle hand gathered her hair and held it away from her face. Another hand rubbed small circles on her back as she pulled in deep breaths, fighting to get her stomach under control.
"Are you okay?"
Travis was asking her if she was okay? He was the one who looked like he'd gone five rounds in a fight and lost.
She grabbed some toilet paper and wiped her mouth then flushed the toilet. Embarrassment washed over her as she nodded and struggled to stand. "I'm fine. Thank you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I just need some ginger ale, that's all."
"I can get it—"
"No, I got it." Cara avoided looking at Travis as she slid past him and moved to the kitchen. Could he see how red her face was? He must, unless whatever fight he'd been in had effected his vision as well.
Travis followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, his hands braced behind him as she sipped some ginger ale.
"Does that happen a lot? Getting sick, I mean. That's morning sickness, right? There's nothing to worry about?"
The worry in his voice caught her off-guard. She looked over, surprised to see the concern in his eyes, surprised at the way his fingers tightened around the edges of the counter as he watched her. She took another sip then capped the bottle and placed it back in the refrigerator.
"There's nothing to worry about, no. My stomach just gets a little queasy sometimes, that's all."
"Are you sure? Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?"
"No, not really." Cara smiled, touched by his concern and his offer. "I'm fine. Really. This is the first time I've been sick in a couple of weeks."
"I guess my face didn't help, huh?" His lips twitched into a half-smile, one that quickly morphed into a slight grimace. Cara winced in sympathy then shook her head.
"No, it wasn't your face. I happen to like your face. I think it was the blood. Or maybe the cut or something. The same thing happened earlier this week when I got bit."
Travis tilted his head to the side, a smile shining in his smoky eyes. "You like my face, huh?"
Cara laughed, started to take a step toward him, then stopped at the last minute. It would be so easy to close the distance between them, to step into his arms and just hold him. Be held by him. But she couldn't. She wasn't ready to take that first step. Not yet. Not until they talked. Not until she was sure he wanted the same thing she need.
Even if she wasn't entirely certain what that was.
She jammed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and leaned against the refrigerator. "I usually like your face. When it's, you know, not all banged up like that. What happened?"
"We lost."
"I can tell."
Travis chuckled the quickly winced. "I mean the game last night. Both nights, actually. It got a little physical after Charlotte scored their fourth goal in the first period."
"That's a bad thing, right?"
"For us, yeah."
"Does that happen a lot? Fighting, I mean. Getting hurt like that."
"Not usually, no."
"Oh. Well, that's a good thing, I guess." She dropped her gaze and pushed away from the refrigerator, suddenly unsure what to say or do. She'd had everything planned out: she was going to fix him dinner then ask if he wanted to watch a movie. Then she would ease into the conversation about the baby and what he wanted. What he had planned, if he even had anything planned at all.
Now she wasn't sure what to do. It was too early to eat and she wasn't sure he'd be able to eat anyway, not with his mouth busted the way it was. And he looked tired, too, with shadows framing his eyes.
Or maybe the shadows were nothing more than an extension of the bruises.
"Did you have anything planned for the rest of the day?"
The question startled Cara, making her wonder if he could read minds since she was getting ready to ask him the same thing. She shook her head, trying to figure out how she could lead-in to asking him to talk but he was already moving out of t
he kitchen. He grabbed his overnight bag from its spot by the door then glanced over his shoulder at her.
"I'm going to go upstairs and get out of this suit, maybe take a nap."
"Oh. Um, yeah. Sure." She took one step forward, stopped, jammed her hands back into her pockets. "Did you need help with anything? Maybe an icepack or something?"
Travis hesitated with his foot on the first step and for one awful second, Cara worried that maybe she sounded too forward. Too needy. Too desperate. She started to tell him never mind when he turned around and looked at her. Really looked at her. One corner of his mouth—the uninjured corner—tilted in a brief smile.
"An icepack would be great."
"Okay. Good. I—I can do that. I'll bring one up in a few minutes."
"Thanks."
Cara held her breath as she watched him disappear up the stairs then released it in a rush. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, making her mentally roll her eyes. She was just bringing him an icepack, nothing more. She'd probably hand it to him and he'd thank her and that would be that. He'd take his nap and she'd disappear into the guest room and brood and think and wonder what she should have done differently.
Yes, that's exactly what would happen. Probably. But she needed to brush her teeth, just in case.
She grabbed two ice packs—the soft, reusable gel kind—from the freezer and wrapped each in a kitchen towel. Then she made her way upstairs, her steps quiet against the thick carpet. A quick trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth then she was standing in front of Travis's room.
The door was halfway open but she still knocked, unable to let herself just walk in.
"You don't have to knock, you know." Travis's muffled voice floated from the master bathroom. "Just give me a sec and I'll be right out."
"Sure. No problem." She crossed the threshold then stopped, looking around the large room as if she'd never seen it before.
She had, of course. That very first night she had met Travis, when they had come back here. But she hadn't paid much attention to his room, other than a quick glance around that assured her he wasn't a slob. And she'd seen it every day since she moved in here. Travis kept his door open except for when he slept and she walked by it twice a day: once in the morning, and again at night. But she hadn't felt comfortable doing more than taking a quick glance inside each time she passed. For reasons she didn't understand, doing anything more than that felt like an invasion of his privacy.
Playing For Love (The York Bombers, #6) Page 14
