Decidedly with Luck (By The Bay Book 6)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  I felt sexy, and based on the girlish wolf whistles I got when I stepped out of the bathroom, I wasn’t alone in thinking that.

  “Thank you.” I gave them a little curtsy.

  Even though no man would ever see me in it, I decided to order it. At least I could wear it while pregnant.

  Ava and Chloe also bought the outfits they had tried on.

  “Next up,” Kristine said, gaining our attention. “Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for—the sex toys.”

  Right.

  Exactly what I’d been waiting for—if I were someone else.

  She picked up a purple vibrator that seemed like the kind of thing that would glow in the dark, much like the condoms Mrs. Wasserman got excited about.

  Embarrassed giggles broke out among the teachers, and Kristine explained the virtues of this particular model.

  Ava nudged my arm with her elbow. “You should get it,” she whispered.

  “Why?” I didn’t need one when my fingers already did a pretty decent job.

  My clit certainly hadn’t logged any complaints in the orgasm department.

  “Because second trimester is when you’ll be super horny.” Her eyebrows lifted as if to remind me that I’d just entered that period of my pregnancy.

  “Did you use one when you were pregnant?” I whispered back.

  “I didn’t need to. I had Liam. Most of the time. When he wasn’t away on a mission. Which fortunately wasn’t all that often or for long while I was pregnant.”

  He’d made sure of that. His pregnant wife had been his #1 priority.

  I glanced at the vibrator, again, that Kristine was still holding. My body chanted that I really, really, really wanted to buy it. My lady bits would love me forever if I did.

  I chewed on my lip for a second, contemplating if I wanted to buy it in front of everyone—including my colleagues.

  Ava must have sensed my dilemma. “I’ll get that for you,” she said under her breath. “Consider it my early baby gift to you.”

  She might have said that, but her tone implied something else. Something that suggested I might want to buy an extra-large pack of batteries to go with it.

  Maybe condom companies should start supplying coupons for them in the box, along with the message, “Sorry that you fell into the one percent failure rate. Here’s a free box of batteries for the vibrator you’ll now need if you’re single. Enjoy!”

  Wonderful.

  13

  Logan

  “Do any of you know anything about fundraisers?” I asked Travis and Eli in the team locker room, my body and hair still damp from the shower.

  We’d just finished a particularly grueling practice, thanks to yesterday’s embarrassing loss to the Calgary Flames.

  Yes, the Flames were killing it this season and were number one in the Pacific division, but that didn’t mean we should have lost 5-1.

  Playoffs were rapidly approaching, and we were in a wild card position.

  We couldn’t afford to lose a game.

  As our head coach needlessly pointed out.

  “Emma did one a few years ago when we first started dating,” Travis said over the whining of a blow-dryer one of our teammates was using.

  “What kind of fundraiser was it?” Yes, I might’ve been fishing for details. I wasn’t exactly the fundraising type.

  I was more the type who donated money or participated in whatever activity the team I played for had organized.

  Like visiting sick kids in the hospital.

  But the Kiera I’d known in college had been the kind of girl who would pick up a coin from the ground and donate it to the nearest donation collection box.

  Her reasoning?

  That maybe it would bring someone else luck.

  She’d also volunteered at the children’s hospital, doing kindergarten tours, so the place wouldn’t be quite as scary if the kids ever ended up there as a patient.

  She’d even convinced me one year to volunteer as an elf at the local emergency women’s shelter, to help hand out Christmas presents to kids staying there.

  That was when I’d first begun falling for her…and not only because she’d looked damn cute in her outfit.

  She had helped so many people over the years, which was why I was adamant about helping her with her fundraiser in whatever way I could.

  “Some of the guys on the team and I did a PG-rated Magic Mike routine as part of the charity event,” Travis said. “It included a silent auction.”

  A laugh erupted from me as I dropped my towel from around my waist and grabbed my boxer briefs. “That was you?”

  I’d heard about the infamous Magic Mike act, but I never paid attention to who was involved.

  “Yep, that was me. It raised a lot of money for the community center for underprivileged kids where Emma volunteers.” He regarded me for a moment. “Why are you asking? You thinking of doing some sort of fundraiser?”

  “Not me specifically, but a friend of mine is. She wants to raise money to buy books for foster kids. It’s something she feels passionately about.”

  “She should definitely talk to Emma and her best friend, Hannah. They both grew up in foster care, and I’m sure they’d love to talk to your friend about it.”

  “I’ll tell Kiera. She’s coming over for dinner. I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to them.”

  “You’ve got a date?” Eli asked.

  “It’s not a date. She’s coming to brainstorm ideas for the fundraiser.” I removed my jeans from the locker and pulled them up my legs.

  “You’ve only been in San Francisco for a month, and you’ve already got female friends?” Amusement and surprise wrestled for top spot in Eli’s tone, as if the idea of female friends was a foreign concept to him.

  “Is she like a friend with benefits?”

  I shook my head, worried my voice would betray how Kiera and I had hooked up at the ball.

  The same charity ball Eli had been at but had failed to recognize me, thanks to my mask. It also helped that I’d been introduced as Grayson, and he hadn’t clued in that I was the same guy who played for the team he’d beaten the day before.

  Thank Christ for that.

  Because heaven help me if he figured out I was Grayson, and then he met Kiera—especially if she recognized him as one of the hockey players she’d met that night.

  He didn’t look as though he believed me about Kiera and I not having a friends-with-benefits arrangement.

  “She’s the wife of a close friend of mine,” I explained.

  “So, you’re not sleeping with her?”

  Rule #1 when you don’t want to confirm that you have indeed slept with the woman in question?

  Do.

  Not.

  Hesitate when answering.

  Because when you do, it’s a dead giveaway you’ve done exactly that. And no matter how many times you deny it, you’re just digging a deeper hole.

  “I don’t sleep with married women.”

  Technically, it was accurate when it came to Kiera (and all women). But she was a widow now, so it was okay for her to have sex with whomever she wanted. Marriage vows were “till death do you part.” You weren’t expected to remain faithful long after your partner died.

  “Okay, you’re not sleeping with her,” Eli said. “How about fucking her?”

  “I’m not fucking her, either.”

  Again, not a lie.

  Based on technicalities.

  First, his question was in present tense. What happened between Kiera and me occurred three-and-a-half months ago.

  Second, I didn’t fuck her that night. I made love to her.

  Yeah, yeah, in his eyes, I’d be a pussy if I told him I’d made love to a one-night stand. It didn’t matter that I’d known her for years.

  “She’s really just going to your place to talk about a fundraiser?”

  I almost laughed at the disappointment in Eli’s voice. “Yep.”

  Thinking the Q&A was over, I g
rabbed my long-sleeved T-shirt and pulled it on.

  “How long have you known her?” he asked.

  “Since college.”

  “So, a long time.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “And it’s just you and her having dinner together?”

  Travis snorted a laugh. “You’re as bad as my wife when she and her friends get together. When did you trade your balls for ovaries?”

  He was referring to Eli.

  I had to agree with him there.

  Eli shrugged. “Just curious.”

  “Her husband died over a year ago,” I said. “So if you’re wondering why he’s okay with her and I having dinner together, that’s why.”

  “Is she single?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “If she’s single, then you don’t have an excuse not to fuck her. It’s not like her husband will chuck lightning bolts at you for making moves on her.”

  “You’re right—he wasn’t Zeus. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to make a move on his wife.” Even though, technically, I already had. “Plus, she’s my daughter’s teacher.”

  “And there’re laws that you can’t sleep with your kid’s teacher?”

  “Can’t say I’ve looked into it.”

  It didn’t matter if it was allowed or not, I wasn’t going there again with her.

  She needed to move on with her life. And I needed to do the same. While I might’ve had friends who had figured out how to make their relationships work—including some who were hockey players—I didn’t trust myself not to screw things up again like I had with Stacy.

  So as far as I was concerned, Kiera was off-limits.

  The condo security app alerted me to Kiera’s arrival.

  I buzzed her into the building and finished dishing out the Thai food from the takeout containers onto the serving plates.

  Kiera’s knock on the door came several minutes later. I went down the hallway and let her in.

  Shit, she looked good. But that came as no surprise. Even in jeans and a faded maroon T-shirt that looked…

  “Is that my old T-shirt?” I vaguely remembered giving it to her in college after she’d come over to my apartment to study but got caught in the rain. She had been soaked, so I loaned her one of my T-shirts.

  She glanced at it. When her gaze returned to mine, her eyes were lit up, as if from the same memory. “Oops. Now that you mention it…it is yours.”

  “You kept it because you thought it was Stephen’s?” I didn’t believe for a second that she had kept it because it was mine.

  A blush reddened her cheeks, making her look even more adorable, but instead of answering my question, she sniffed the air. Smoke still lingered from my failed attempt at dinner, the burned remains of which rested in the garbage. RIP.

  Her eyes widened with concern. “Is everything okay?”

  “I had a little accident with dinner. But not to worry, I have it covered.”

  Kiera laughed that sexy sound of hers that made my body tingle like I was standing out in an electrical storm. I had always loved her laugh. “I see your cooking skills haven’t changed much since college.”

  I grinned at the memory of making her dinner for a study date. That hadn’t gone down too well either, even though I’d only attempted to make melted cheese on toast. “I promise you my culinary skills have improved since then—they just went on strike tonight.”

  And maybe the choice of recipe, which had been slightly beyond my skill level, hadn’t helped. Being distracted while talking to Livi on FaceTime might have also added to the recipe’s downfall.

  I led her to the living room. Her gaze surveyed the area that in no way resembled my apartment in college, which I’d shared with Stephen.

  But that was only because Stacy had decorated my condo.

  I’d returned from being on the road shortly after I was traded to San Francisco, to find the boxes unpacked and my condo looking nothing like the one I’d left in Chicago.

  By that, I meant, my post-divorce apartment had been sparse in the decorating department. It wasn’t as if I’d cared about how it looked when I spent a good portion of my time away from home.

  After Stacy was finished with it, the walls, the sofa, the armchair, and the coffee table were various shades of dark gray. Everything else, including the cushions, was either cream or burnt orange.

  The large matte, black-and-white photos on the wall were of Livi, Stacy, and me that had been taken during the past seven years. Candid photos that I didn’t realize existed until recently.

  “Your place looks amazing,” Kiera said.

  “Thanks. Stacy gets full credit for it. Do you want the guided tour?”

  My condo wasn’t large, but it was a decent size, considering I was the only person living here for now.

  After showing Kiera the spacious living room and kitchen, I led her to the bedrooms.

  “Wow, this is gorgeous.” Kiera walked around Livi’s room, inspecting the green bedding with daisies, the white furniture, the green rug on the hardwood floor.

  “One of my teammates will be painting a mural on the wall this summer.”

  Turns out, Travis Hamilton wasn’t only a talented hockey player, he was somewhat of an artist, too.

  “I bet Livi’s excited about that.”

  “She is.”

  “How come Stacy and Livi moved to San Francisco while you were still with Chicago?” She glanced around the room as if expecting them to magically disappear. “And where are they?”

  “Tony—Stacy’s husband—was offered a job he couldn’t turn down.”

  “You and Stacy are divorced? When did this happen?”

  “Almost two years ago. I thought you knew that.”

  She shook her head. “Did Stephen know?”

  “I told him about it after we filed for divorce. I was away a lot because of my hockey schedule, and when I was home, my mind was still in the game and not on my wife and daughter. Stacy was miserable. We finally realized that even though we still loved each other, we weren’t in love.”

  “So, you got a divorce?”

  “Yep. I figured I wasn’t being fair to Stacy. She wanted everything I couldn’t give her, and she deserved more than that. She and Livi deserved more than that.”

  “How did Livi take it?”

  “Given I wasn’t around as much as I should’ve been, I don’t think it made much of a difference to her. The divorce was my wake-up call that I needed to do a better job with Livi.”

  Was I surprised Stephen hadn’t told Kiera about the divorce? A little. It wasn’t like it had been a national secret. But he also hadn’t been the type of guy who went around sharing about other people’s personal problems.

  Even with his wife.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

  Remember how I said that if a man asks a woman if she was seeing anyone, it meant he was interested in going out with her?

  Kiera might have said those words, but she didn’t give the impression that she’d asked the question because she was interested in going out with me. Like when I’d asked her the same the other day, her question seemed more to do with curiosity than an interest in dating me.

  “My hockey career and Livi are my priorities right now. Once that career is over, I can consider being in a full-time relationship.”

  Kiera nodded, her expression thoughtful.

  And I splatted away the sudden urge to tell her I was the man she had sex with the night of the ball.

  There was really no point going there.

  Both of us had moved on.

  14

  Kiera

  My reaction when Logan told me he was divorced?

  Shock didn’t even begin to describe it.

  It wasn’t so much that Logan was divorced—which was surprising in itself. I was shocked that Stephen had never mentioned it.

  I had wondered, though, when Logan showed up at school today, why Livi had been my student since fall, yet Logan h
ad just been traded to the Rock last month.

  Part of me had sadly thought that perhaps he and his wife were divorced. The larger part assumed they had decided they wanted to live in San Francisco, and Stacy and Livi had moved here first. Logan would have joined them once his team was finished for the season.

  “But maybe next time things will be better,” I said, referring to how Logan would only consider a relationship with a woman once his hockey career was over. “You learned your lesson, and now you know how to avoid making the same mistakes.” I ran my hand over the fluffy green cushion on Livi’s bed. The comforter was also green and covered in daisies. A lamp resembling a mushroom with a white-spotted red cap stood on the night table, a happy garden gnome leaning against the tall stalk.

  “I don’t think it’s as easy as that. Playing in the NHL is tough on families, especially if the player gets traded. The family is uprooted and has to adjust to the new city—or country if they end up in Canada.”

  “But didn’t Livi and Stacy have to do that anyway? They were already living here when you were traded to the Rock.”

  “That’s because Stacy’s husband was offered a great opportunity he couldn’t turn down.”

  “Even though you’re Livi’s father and were living in Chicago at the time?”

  “I couldn’t expect him to turn down the promotion because I lived in Chicago. I’m not the only one who should get to have a job that he loves.”

  That was one thing I had admired about Logan when we were friends in college; it wasn’t always about what he wanted. He’d worked hard to excel at everything he did. He loved the challenge, the thrill of success. But he was also not the type of man who would trample over others to get there.

  “In the end, it worked out for everyone,” Logan said. “But I got lucky when Chicago traded me to San Francisco. They could have just as easily traded me to a Canadian team or Tampa Bay or anywhere else far from Livi. And there’s no guarantee the Rock won’t trade me next year to another team.”

  Which meant he wouldn’t be in Livi’s life as much as he was now.

  My heart ached for him, just thinking about that.