Decidedly with Luck (By The Bay Book 6)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  “Are you okay?” Chloe asked. Both she and Ava were studying me, eyebrows raised.

  I took my usual seat next to Chloe. Her copper-colored hair shone softly in the sunlight pouring through the window near us.

  “I’m fine. Other than being a little tired. I haven’t been able to stop yawning all morning.”

  “Late night? Maybe a hot date?” Chloe’s hopeful expression caused me to snort a laugh.

  I know, I know. I’d promised myself at the Jingle Balls ball that it was time to stick my broken pieces together—either with tape or white glue, whatever was available—and move on.

  Easier said than done.

  It didn’t help when the memory of that night enjoyed tormenting me with those erotic dreams. What if I couldn’t find another man who sizzled in bed like Grayson?

  I mean, sure, sex wasn’t everything. But damn, it was still important.

  And thanks to Grayson, the bar was now higher.

  Darn him.

  My hand moved subconsciously to my chest, where the pendant Logan had given me once rested—until I lost it at the ball. I’d called the hotel the next day after realizing it was missing, but no one had turned it in.

  And no one got back to me to tell me it had been found.

  The taste of bitter regret sat in my throat, and I lowered my hand. “Sorry to disappoint. No hot date.”

  “Let me guess,” Chloe said, “you were up late, knitting mittens for foster kids in Boston.”

  Like I said, she knew me well—even if she was wrong this time.

  She lowered her sandwich with a heartfelt sigh. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re making them, Kiera. Your aunt’s charity is making a big difference to the foster kids who receive them. And those encouraging messages you slip inside each mitten are sweet. But you’ve been using them as an excuse for why you’re always too busy to meet someone new. You deserve to find someone just as wonderful as Stephen. You deserve to have a second chance at love.”

  “Are you telling me I should stop making them?” My stomach twisted into a tangled knot at the suggestion.

  “Not at all. The charity’s important to you, and I love that you knit them. But it’s time to start putting yourself first. You’ve been doing a crappy job at it, and I’ve been a crappy friend for not saying anything sooner.”

  I grinned. “You’re not a crappy friend. You’re the friend who’s madly in love with her super hot boyfriend and wants everyone to be as happy as you.” I gestured at Ava with a wave of my hand. “Same deal with you. You’ve both found amazing men and want everyone to be as happy as you are. And I don’t blame you. I did exactly the same thing to you, Chloe, because I was madly in love with Stephen…in case you’re forgetting.”

  She cringed, no doubt remembering how annoying I had been, and I laughed.

  “Anyway, that’s not why I’m tired. I went to bed at a decent time. But my waistband’s been getting a little tight lately. Maybe I’m gaining weight, and that’s zapping my energy.”

  Ava’s eyes widened, and her gaze dropped to my breasts.

  Okay, that was unexpected.

  She leaned forward, and in a hushed tone, asked, “Are you pregnant?”

  A laugh burst from Chloe. That blush on her face? I guess she hadn’t expected to laugh any more than I had expected Ava to check out my breasts.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Chloe said. “But don’t you need to have sex to get pregnant?”

  “Not always,” Ava replied. “One of my friends had a baby last year, thanks to an anonymous sperm donor.”

  They both turned to stare at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t get artificially inseminated, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “You are pregnant?” Chloe asked, almost squealing.

  I could feel the other teachers’ eyes peer our way. I didn’t think they heard what she’d said, but the unexpected sound was bound to have gained their attention.

  I shook my head—which started out adamantly at first but trickled away to something less sure.

  Could I be pregnant?

  I mentally counted the days…well, more like weeks…um, months since I last remembered having my period.

  Oh. God.

  “You had sex and didn’t tell me?” You’d have thought from Chloe’s reaction, I’d just found out I’d won a billion dollars in last week’s lottery.

  I shrugged, my mind still spinning like a top at the possibility I could be pregnant. “Apparently. You were busy with everything that had gone down between your cousin and Landon.” She’d met her hot boyfriend in the fall when he was undercover at the school as a substitute kindergarten teacher. He’d been hired to protect her due to her past association with the Russian mafia. “I didn’t think the fact that I’d had sex the one time was all that newsworthy.”

  All right, that wasn’t entirely true. Grayson and I had engaged in earth-shattering sex several times that night. Was it any wonder that I’d had been plagued by erotic dreams ever since?

  But I was hardly admitting this to Chloe and Ava, especially not when I could sense a few of the other teachers still straining to hear our conversation.

  Have you ever had to deal with that super friendly person who loves to be in everyone’s business? She’s positive she’s the one who can solve your problems—along with world hunger?

  No, I didn’t mean Chloe.

  Meet Kristine Richmond.

  The tall, pretty brunette slid onto the seat next to mine. “I’m planning a get-together for Sunday afternoon at my house, and I’m hoping you can all attend. It will be so much fun.” She winked at us.

  Oh, did I forget to mention Kristine had a side business that I was positive would cause some parents to freak if they found out about it?

  Kristine’s party planning company was wildly popular with bachelorette parties.

  You guessed it. Her business involved ensuring your sex life was the best it could be—assuming you had a significant other to share it with.

  I could feel my face heat up a thousand degrees. Not because of what she sold. If timing were a dartboard, she’d hit the bull’s eye. It was as if she had heard my conversation with Chloe and Ava.

  But just how much had she heard?

  Did she know I could possibly be pregnant?

  “Is this one of your sex-toy parties?” I asked.

  “I prefer to call it a ‘Be Good To Yourself’ party, but yes, there will be sex toys and sexy lingerie and other sexy indulgences. So can I count you all in?”

  Grinning, Chloe and Ava were quick to say they would be there. I stuffed my sandwich into my mouth. It wasn’t like I had anyone to have sex with or seduce.

  I didn’t need to seduce my fingers into pleasing me. They were easy and willing—especially after one of my Grayson-induced dreams.

  “Perfect. I’ll see you three there.” With that, she sashayed back to her seat.

  “She seriously doesn’t expect me to go, does she?” I asked.

  “Not only does she expect you to go,” Chloe said, “we do, too. It’ll be fun. And you know what else will be fun?”

  I shook my head. “No, what?”

  She exchanged a knowing glance with Ava before turning to me. “You’ll find out after school.”

  And with that, my friends stood up and left the room to get ready for our afternoon classes—leaving me to wonder how I was going to get out of attending the party.

  I might not have wanted to go, but I also didn’t want to disappoint my friends by not showing up.

  Although in light of my possible impending motherhood status, disappointing my friends was the least of my problems.

  9

  Logan

  “Got any plans for tonight?” Eli Lawson asked Travis Hamilton and me in the locker room following afternoon practice.

  Chatter from the other San Francisco Rock players filled the space, occasionally punctuated by laughter from one group or another.

  That’s ri
ght. A month ago, I was playing with the Chicago Blackhawks. Two weeks later, I was traded to San Francisco.

  And I couldn’t have been happier.

  Did I expect to be traded, or had I heard rumors circulating in the media about the possibility as the trade deadline approached?

  Not at all—nor would I have paid attention to it. My focus was on the game and not on media speculation.

  But either way, there was no city I would’ve rather been traded to than here.

  Where my daughter lived.

  “You mean other than playing with my daughter and making love to my beautiful wife?” Travis smirked at us. I suspected the smirk had more to do with the latter part than the comment about his daughter.

  Unlike Eli and myself, Travis didn’t have to hook up with women to get laid. But while I couldn’t speak for Eli, hooking up with women wasn’t something I did.

  Who was the last woman I’d had sex with?

  That would be Kiera Ashdown. And no, I hadn’t tried to contact her since moving here. It had nothing to do with me being too busy. It was because what happened at the masquerade ball stayed at the masquerade ball.

  I didn’t see a point in contacting her.

  At least not right now.

  Maybe I would later on, to see how she was doing. But merely from the point of view of her former husband’s best friend—and not the guy who at one time had been secretly in love with her.

  “I’m spending the evening with my daughter and ex-wife,” I told the guys.

  “You want to explain how that works?” Eli asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Conroy and his ex-wife can’t stand to be in the same part of the city, never mind in the same house, without hurling accusations at each other.”

  “That’s probably because he cheated on her numerous times while we were on the road,” Travis volunteered. “The guy is as faithful to a woman as the moon is likely to be made of draft beer.”

  “You have a point there.”

  “Things are different with Stacy and me,” I said. “We’re close friends. We fell out of love, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends anymore. Livi’s our first priority.”

  “And you don’t have issues with her new husband?”

  “Should I? He had nothing to do with my marriage breaking up. That was all on me. I’m just glad I get to spend more time with my daughter than I would’ve if I hadn’t been traded here.”

  “And maybe she has a friend she can hook me up with.”

  I laughed. “Don’t hold your breath. I’ve been warned to keep away from her friends. Stacy doesn’t want to be responsible for picking up pieces of their broken hearts.” Her words, not mine. And from the way she’d glared at me when she said it, she’d been damn serious.

  Eli yanked his T-shirt on over his head. “How about if I hook up with them? Is that allowed?”

  “I’m pretty sure her warning was for all hockey players.”

  “What does she have against hockey players?” Travis asked, grabbing his jeans from his locker.

  I shrugged, knowing damn well what her issue was with us. But I couldn’t say I blamed her for feeling that way after how our marriage fell apart.

  I’d been so focused on my hockey career, training harder, studying plays harder, pushing to be better. And then there were the late game nights, the road trips, the afternoon pregame naps, plus, the community involvement expected from each player.

  All of this had added up to less time available for my wife and my daughter.

  “Damn, you must have really done a number on her,” Eli said, “for her to be against our kind.”

  Travis and I burst out laughing.

  “You make hockey players sound like some kind of species of animal.” That got me a towel thrown in my face.

  I yanked it down and glared at Eli. It was the same towel he’d had tied around his hips a short time ago.

  This only made the guys laugh harder.

  “I take it you’ve got plans for tonight that don’t involve kids, wives, or ex-wives,” I said to him. The team didn’t have a game tonight, and we had three days at home before we were back on the road.

  “Some of us are going out, getting drinks, and watching whatever game is on TV. You want to join us after your daughter goes to bed? Or are you, your ex-wife, and her husband doing some sort of meditating, we-are-besties crap together?”

  I could only shake my head, a half grin forming. “Yep, that’s exactly what we’re doing tonight. We’re also hoping to summon a few ghosts and paint each other’s toenails.”

  I strolled out of the dressing room.

  “Daddy!”

  At the sound of my daughter’s voice, relief and pride squeezed my heart like an accordion. A month ago, I would never have imagined Livi showing up after practice to see me. The closest I’d come to that was via FaceTime.

  I was still thanking my lucky stars (and my lucky briefs) that Chicago had traded me to the Rock.

  Livi raced toward me, grinning my favorite grin. Stacy was smiling in that confident way that always turned heads—like the security guards who were currently checking her out.

  Stacy was gorgeous. In college, she’d done some modeling, mostly to help pay her tuition. Even now, she had agencies trying to get her to sign with them.

  But that was all in the past. Being a mother, a supportive wife, and managing a small online business were her only goals these days.

  I caught Livi in my arms and hoisted her up. “Hey, princess. How was school?”

  She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Mommy’s gonna have a baby,” she blurted, beaming. “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

  “Congratulations,” I told Livi, meaning it.

  Stacy flashed me a sheepish grin, her hand resting protectively against her still-flat stomach. I gave her a one-armed hug. “And congratulations to you and Tony.”

  Her expression slipped into a grateful smile, and she returned my hug. “I hadn’t quite planned to tell you this way. Livi’s been bouncing off the walls since I told her about it after school.”

  “How far along are you?”

  “Twelve weeks. Tony and I were at the doctor’s this afternoon, and everything’s looking great so far.” The words came out like a torpedo.

  I smiled at my daughter. “So, what should we do to celebrate the big news?”

  “Ice cream!”

  “Are you okay with that?” I asked Stacy.

  “That sounds like a perfect idea. Let me text Tony to tell him the plan. He’s making dinner to celebrate hearing his baby’s heartbeat.”

  Did I do a good job keeping the cringe off my face?

  Already Tony was proving to be a better father than I ever was from the get-go. My hockey schedule had prevented me from making it to most of Stacy’s prenatal appointments when she was pregnant with Livi.

  And even when I hadn’t been on the road, I’d done a lousy job of ensuring I made it to them.

  I felt an eyebrow lift. “I take it you were originally planning to tell me the news at dinner?”

  Stacy had always idolized Martha Stewart and a host of other lifestyle bloggers, who I couldn’t name if I tried. I swear, part of Martha’s fortune was thanks to Stacy’s love of anything associated with the woman’s name. So you could imagine what our wedding was like, especially if you’ve ever read one of her wedding magazines. (And yes, I’m man enough to admit that I have.)

  I was positive the dinner would include pastel balloons, handcrafted paper ornaments, and tiny cakes with baby-themed decorations.

  “I thought it would be the perfect time to tell you. Tony and I wanted you to hear it from us first.”

  I lowered Livi to the floor so she could open the door. “Instead of from our daughter?”

  The sheepish look was back on Stacy’s face, and I laughed.

  We stepped outside the arena and headed toward the rear parking lot.

  “You really couldn’t expect her to keep silent abou
t something like that,” I said. “She’s been dying to be a big sister.”

  Stacy had wanted another baby while we were married, but I’d felt that it wasn’t the right time to have another child. My hockey career had come first.

  I’d had enough trouble being there for Livi the way I should’ve been. How I would have balanced two young children had been beyond me—and I still felt that way.

  Livi skipped ahead of us, leaping over cracks in the sidewalk.

  “I guess not.” Stacy was quiet for a moment before saying, “So, how are things with you? Have you met anyone yet since you moved here?”

  “Met? As in dating?” Or screwing around with any woman who was interested in having sex with me?

  Stacy knew what it was like with some of my teammates. Even though she’d known I was faithful while we were married, I suspected she believed I had joined that lifestyle as soon as the divorce papers were signed.

  I hadn’t even been like that in college. Back then, I’d been more focused on my coursework and hockey than I had been on getting laid.

  She bumped shoulders with me in her teasing way. “Of course as in dating. I want to make sure she’s good enough for you.”

  A small laugh escaped me. “Are you seriously planning to vet any woman I date?”

  “Naturally. That’s part of my job as your ex-wife. It was in our wedding vows, in case you’ve forgotten.” She grinned at me.

  “Fortunately for you,” I said, “you won’t have to worry about that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I screwed things up when we were married and put my hockey career first. I’m not repeating that mistake. Lesson learned.”

  “So what? You’re never planning to settle down again? Our marriage didn’t work, so you’re throwing out the baby and the rubber duckie with the bathwater?” Based on the level of exasperation in her tone, I was surprised she didn’t stomp her foot against the sidewalk like I’d seen Livi do.

  I bit back a laugh. “No, just not while I’m playing hockey. And I’m hoping I still have several years left in me before I have to worry about it ending.”

  The Blackhawks hadn’t traded me because I was no longer a good hockey player. They’d done it for strategic reasons.