Decidedly with Luck (By The Bay Book 6)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  I scanned the store for Emma and spotted her with a customer. Or at least I assumed it was her. She’d told me that she had long, curly, red hair, and the woman definitely fit that description.

  It was the person she was talking to who caused the air in my lungs to freeze.

  Dr. Lakin.

  She was the one person in the store who knew the secret that I wasn’t ready to share with the world yet, beyond Chloe, Ava, and my parents.

  My gaze darted around the store, searching for a suitable spot to hide. But unless I was willing to climb into the fountain and pose alongside the goddess, the number of options was minimal.

  The fitting room was on the opposite side of the store from where the pair was standing. I slowly reversed, keeping my eyes on them, like one would do when moving away from a hungry tiger.

  You know how some people seem to have eyes in the backs of their heads?

  Or at least it seemed that way when you were a kid, and your parents knew you were up to no good, even though their back was to you.

  Well, I was definitely not one of those people.

  My calves hit something solid behind me. Before I registered what was happening, I stumbled backward, arms flailing, and landed on my butt in the fountain.

  Water splashed on impact, ensuring every inch of my dress was soaked.

  I wasn’t hurt—as long as we weren’t referring to my ego. I had used my hands to cushion my landing.

  “Kiera,” Dr. Lakin said as I crawled to the side—my dignity as bedraggled as I was—and all hopes that no one had witnessed what happened came crashing down like a house of pretzels. “Are you all right?”

  Emma was with her, a look of horror on her face. The kind of horror that came right after a grimace.

  They helped me to my feet. Emma retrieved my purse. Water dripped from it and my dress, creating a puddle on the floor.

  And there was no missing the way the wet fabric clung like a neon sign to my baby bump.

  “I’m fine,” I reassured Dr. Lakin. “Sorry about the mess,” I told Emma.

  Emma’s face paled. “Don’t worry about that. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m more embarrassed than anything.” In more ways than she could possibly imagine.

  “Well,” Dr. Lakin said, “I’d feel better if you dropped by my office in about two hours so I can double-check that everything is all right with you and your baby.”

  I winced because there was no hiding the truth now, but I agreed to meet her at her office. Better to be safe than sorry when it came to Love Bug.

  “Why don’t you come into my office?” Emma suggested. “Believe it or not, I actually have some dry clothes you can change into.” She grinned at my surprised expression. “Let’s just say I’ve had at least one run-in with the fountain that left me drenched.”

  She led me to a room at the rear of the store that contained a desk and several unopened cardboard boxes. She removed a dress from the closet and examined it for a moment, then her gaze gave me a once-over.

  She smiled again. “Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

  She left with the dress—a dress that I doubted would fit me. We weren’t exactly the same size, especially given my pregnant status.

  When she returned, she was carrying what looked like a sundress covered with small hearts in a rainbow of colors. She handed it to me. “This dress will fit you better. And I grabbed you some panties and a bra. All on the house.”

  “You don’t—” I started to say.

  “Consider it an early baby gift—not that your baby will appreciate it.” She laughed softly. “Get changed, then we’ll go to the café around the corner for lunch. Hannah will be meeting us there.”

  “I can’t believe we’ve both been friends with Ava all this time, and we’ve never met until now,” Emma said after the three of us had ordered our food from the counter. We were seated at a table near the window. Riley, Hannah’s adorable newborn son, was asleep in his car seat on the chair next to her.

  For the past few minutes, we’d been discovering just how close our inner circles were without us realizing it until now.

  You know what they say about the six degrees of separation?

  Turned out, Chloe’s boyfriend worked in the building Hannah’s husband owned.

  “Wes told me Landon’s back at work,” Hannah said.

  “More or less. Chloe said he’s on restricted duty until his physician gives him the final stamp of approval. But he’s been working hard on his physical therapy, and his shoulder’s getting better.”

  He’d been shot while working undercover as Chloe’s fake boyfriend. The FBI and the security firm Landon worked for had been trying to locate her cousin, the head of a Russian mafia crime family.

  Chloe’s family tree made most people’s look super boring…but I’d take my boring family any day over what she went through.

  But in the end, injury non withstanding, everything worked out great—Chloe wound up with an amazing boyfriend.

  “So, tell me more about the fundraiser you want to do.” Emma took a bite of her fruit salad.

  I told them about Tyler and his struggles with reading. I told them about my idea for providing box sets to kids like him who wanted to read the books, but their foster parents couldn’t afford them. And I told them about the prizes that Logan had secured from his teammates.

  “I would love to add some prize bundles to it,” Emma said. “And I bet there are businesses in my building who would love to help out, too. They were super supportive when it came to donating prizes for the silent auction I did with the Magic Mike number. As long as the businesses are credited for the donation, it’s a win-win for everyone.”

  “And I know some nurses at the children’s hospital where I work who run small businesses on the side,” Hannah added. “They might want to contribute prizes, too, if it helps get the word out about what they do.”

  “That would be wonderful. Not everyone will be a hockey fan and bid on the prizes Logan drummed up.”

  Emma laughed. “Have you seen Eli Lawson and the other two players? I don’t think there’s a single woman alive who wouldn’t want a date with them. Although I wouldn’t suggest pinning their hopes on the guys wanting a second date. As far as I know, none are looking to settle down.”

  “So, like Logan,” I pointed out.

  She nodded. “Yeah. So, how do you know him?”

  “He was my husband’s best friend and teammate in college, and he and I were in the same geology class. So you could say we’ve been friends for a while.” Even if we hadn’t seen much of each other over the years.

  “What does your husband do?” Emma’s gaze dropped to my hands as I was about to take a bite of my grilled-chicken sandwich.

  The wedding and engagement rings she was obviously looking for?

  They were at home, nestled in the box with the notes Stephen had given me during our marriage.

  “My husband died in a ski accident over a year ago.” At their sympathetic expressions, I quickly added, “It’s okay. I’m not saying it’s been easy, but I am starting to move on.”

  Kind of.

  Although it would be a lot easier to move on if I wasn’t about to tell everyone I was pregnant with his fictitious Popsicle sperm.

  I didn’t want to lie to Emma and Hannah. What had started out as a simple, blurted-out lie had morphed into a big, tangled mess.

  And now I had two more people I’d have to come clean to after I spoke with Grayson.

  If Emma’s husband wasn’t Logan’s teammate, I might have told her the truth. Neither she nor Hannah seemed like the kind of people who would judge me for getting pregnant with a stranger’s sperm.

  “The baby belongs to my husband,” I told them. “We were trying to get pregnant before he died…and well, I used his frozen sperm.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows rose up for a brief moment, and her mouth slipped into a genuine smile. “Welcome to the club.”

  “The clu
b?”

  “My toddler son was the result of an anonymous sperm donor. It was before my husband and I…um…started dating.”

  Emma chuckled under her breath and resumed eating her salad.

  Hannah flashed her a quick smile, then returned her attention to me. “I wanted to have a child, but I hadn’t found anyone to settle down with. So instead of doing things the old-fashioned way, I went the scientific route. And I couldn’t be happier.”

  “And she and Wes also have a beautiful five-year-old daughter,” Emma said.

  “Everly is Wes’s niece,” Hannah explained. “Her parents died over two years ago.”

  It sounded like Everly and I had a lot in common when it came to losing someone we loved.

  The three of us talked for a while about the fundraiser, about how we met our husbands, and about Emma’s and Hannah’s experiences in the system.

  The one thing I did avoid mentioning was my feelings for Logan in college.

  No one needed to know about that.

  The more we talked, the more I enjoyed spending time with them. The two women were sweet and funny and giving. They were my heroes for everything they had gone through growing up—instead of turning them bitter, it had made them stronger.

  Listening to them made me happy I had decided to do the fundraiser to help kids like they had been at one point.

  But despite that, the thought of starting new friendships with a lie sat like sour milk in my stomach.

  Hannah had actually gotten pregnant via in vitro.

  I had not.

  She had intentionally gotten pregnant, even though she was single, because she wanted a child.

  I’d gotten pregnant because I was turned-on by a masked stranger. A hot, masked stranger, mind you. But he had been a temporary escape from the loss of my husband, and I would never regret that.

  The one thing Hannah and I did have in common?

  Neither of us knew the identity of our babies’ biological fathers.

  Although from the sound of it, that didn’t matter when it came to Hannah’s son. Her husband loved him regardless.

  My heart released a happy, dreamy sigh at how things turned out for her in the end, momentarily nudging aside my guilt.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I asked as our lunch drew to a close. “Can you not mention to anyone that I’m pregnant? I want to tell Logan before I mention it to anyone else. Stephen was his best friend, so I’d prefer if he heard about the baby from me.”

  And when exactly are you planning to tell him? a voice in my head asked, tone slightly mocking. When the baby is in college?

  I inwardly rolled my eyes. No. I’ll tell him soon.

  Once I’d figured out the best way to do it.

  And once I got around to contacting Grayson.

  Soon. Very soon.

  17

  Logan

  “What do you think of this crib, Daddy?” Livi pointed to the one in question, white with royal blue and white bedding.

  The puking incident that happened in her classroom four days ago had fortunately only been a twenty-four-hour thing.

  Livi was back to her old self.

  “It’s nice, sweetheart,” I told her halfheartedly. To Stacy, I said, “You want to explain to me again why I’m helping you and Livi find baby furniture? You’re married to Tony, and he’s the baby’s father. Shouldn’t he be doing this?”

  “Oh, I’m just looking. You’re here because I need your help planning his surprise birthday party next week.”

  Livi inspected the matching chest, pulling open the top drawer and checking inside.

  “Since when did I become a party planner?” I asked.

  That had always been Stacy’s role while we were married. I’d just done what any sane husband would do—nod in agreement with everything she said.

  “You’re a man.”

  “Glad you haven’t forgotten that. I was beginning to think it had slipped your mind, given you’re asking me to help plan his surprise party.”

  I glanced over to where Livi had gone, and spotted Kiera. She was talking to a woman with hair the color of a new penny. Like Livi, they were inspecting cribs.

  I wasn’t the only one who spotted Kiera. “Isn’t that Livi’s teacher?” Stacy nodded at the two women.

  “Yes. I take it you don’t remember her from when she was married to Stephen Ashdown, my best friend and teammate in college?”

  Stacy squinted at Kiera and the other woman as if that would jar her memory. “I thought she looked familiar. I just figured it was my imagination.”

  As if sensing we were talking about her, Kiera looked up from the crib she and her friend were inspecting.

  She smiled at us. It was the same beautiful smile that I’d come to associate with her, although something was slightly off about it.

  As if it had been spray-painted on. Even her dimples seemed half-committed to the action.

  “Hi, Mrs. A. I’m going to be a big sister,” Livi proudly told Kiera as Stacy and I approached them.

  “Congratulations.” Kiera grinned at my daughter. This time the smile was genuine. “I bet you’re excited.”

  Livi nodded, the movement so fast her head was almost a blur.

  Kiera directed her smile at Stacy. “Congratulations.” She then smiled at me, but this time it held an edge of uncertainty.

  Her purse pinged. She removed her phone and checked the screen.

  “Looks like we better get going,” she told her friend. “My mom needs my help with something. It was nice seeing you.” She said the last part to Livi, Stacy, and me. “I’ll see you tomorrow in school, Livi.”

  She hooked her hand on her friend’s elbow—her other hand full of bags—and practically dragged her away.

  “I didn’t realize she was seeing someone,” Stacy said.

  “Who’s seeing someone?” I halfheartedly asked, still looking in the direction Kiera and her friend had gone.

  “Livi’s teacher.”

  That got my attention—not to mention an unexpected jolt of jealousy to my gut. “Why do you think she’s seeing someone?”

  “Because I’m positive she’s pregnant. Well, I’m about ninety percent positive that she’s pregnant.”

  “Why do you think she’s pregnant?” Great, now I sounded like a three-year-old who had discovered the power of asking “why” when it came to driving his parents nuts.

  “She’s been wearing baggier clothes lately, and the baby bump kind of gave it away. But the bags she was holding confirmed it.”

  “How would bags confirm that she’s pregnant?”

  “They’re from the maternity clothing store in the mall.”

  “Maybe she was carrying them for her friend.” Made sense to me. More so than Kiera being pregnant. She’d already told me she wasn’t seeing anyone.

  “Kiera was the one who looks pregnant, not her friend. I’d say that she’s probably early in her second trimester.”

  Confession time. When Stacy was pregnant with Livi, I hadn’t been the most attentive husband when it came to knowing all those things about pregnancy I probably should’ve been aware of.

  So, I had no idea what Stacy was talking about.

  “What the heck does that mean?”

  She snorted a laugh. “You really weren’t paying attention to the things I said when I was pregnant with Livi, were you?”

  I didn’t answer because I figured that was a rhetorical question.

  Stacy decided to put me out of my clueless misery. “That means her baby was probably conceived early to mid-December. Give or take a week. This is assuming she’s not pregnant with twins.”

  Holy Fuck. Kiera told me the night of the ball that I was the first man she’d had sex with since Stephen’s death.

  So unless she had a one-night stand with another man after me, that meant the baby was mine.

  My body turned cold, as if a red slushy had been injected into my veins. “Why didn’t she tell me?” I muttered under my breath.
>
  “Who didn’t tell you what?” Stacy asked, frowning.

  “Nothing.”

  How was she supposed to tell you? the voice of reason asked. She has no idea you’re Grayson, the man she fucked that night.

  But even then, she could have still told me that she was pregnant. We were friends.

  Or at least we used to be friends in college. It wasn’t like we had seen each other since Stephen’s funeral.

  I shoved my fingers through my hair, an inch from racing after Kiera and asking her if it was true—if I was going to be a father again.

  “Are you okay?” Stacy was studying me like I was a bug under a microscope.

  Pull it together, man. There’s no point in freaking out just yet.

  “I’m fine. So, back to our discussion about Tony’s surprise party.” I didn’t exactly want to talk about how there was a good chance Tony wasn’t the only one having a baby.

  For starters, Kiera was the one I needed to have this discussion with.

  Only I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to do that.

  It wasn’t like I could ask her, “Hey, how’s everything going? Oh, by the way, are you pregnant with my child?”

  And I suspected the topic wasn’t exactly covered in What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

  Which I might have known if I had bothered to read the book when Stacy was pregnant with Livi.

  18

  Kiera

  Several hours after Chloe dropped me off at my house, my doorbell rang.

  I put aside the mittens I was knitting and pushed myself off the couch. I wasn’t expecting anyone—and I definitely wasn’t expecting to see the man who was standing on my front stoop, the setting sun glowing softly behind him.

  “Hi?” was my brilliant response.

  “I need to talk to you,” Logan said.

  “Okay.” Curious about why he was here, I opened the door wider and let him in.

  He stepped inside, and his gaze dropped to my belly.

  Oh. That was what he wanted to talk about. I guess the cat was out of the proverbial bag.

  Or more accurately, out of the “Lily’s Maternity Boutique” bag.