Decidedly with Luck (By The Bay Book 6)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  Those tears in Judith’s eyes?

  They were now sliding down her face.

  Oh, God, this can’t be happening.

  “When we lost Stephen,” his father said, “we were devastated. He was our only child, and we thought we’d never be blessed with the pitter-patter of little feet from our grandchildren. But you made that possible.”

  Judith dabbed at her tears with the tissue Mom had given her. “We didn’t realize you and Stephen were trying to get pregnant before he died.”

  “We were,” I squeaked because that much was true.

  Tell them the truth.

  And then Judith was back to hugging me. “Now, don’t worry about the party. Your mother and I have everything under control. You and our grandchild just have to show up.” She patted my baby bump. “We wanted to make this a surprise party, but that wasn’t exactly feasible. But we still want you to be surprised when the gender is revealed. So we’ll come with you to the ultrasound and ask the technician to only tell us. That way, you’ll be surprised like everyone else.”

  Tell them the truth.

  I opened my mouth to do just that, but those weren’t the words that came barreling out. “A close friend of mine is coming with me.”

  That caused them all to pause their excitement for about ten seconds.

  Disappointment flickered momentarily on their faces before Judith piped up again. “That’s okay. We’ll give you the card for the technician to write the sex on, and then you can give it to us. But don’t peek.” She waggled her finger at me.

  “Okay,” I said meekly.

  I can’t tell them the truth, I told the voice of reason before it could berate me for being a coward. Again.

  I couldn’t break their hearts, not after everything they had gone through. They were so happy about getting to be grandparents; who was I to destroy their dream?

  Closing my eyes, I turned my back on the frustrated yelp at how big a mess the lie had become.

  Seventeen weeks ago, I’d finally taken a baby step toward moving on with my life after Stephen’s death. That was what that hot, steamy night of incredible sex with Grayson had been about.

  But instead of moving forward, all I’d accomplished was two giant leaps back.

  I was no closer to moving forward than ants were to moving the Golden Gate Bridge to Timbuktu.

  20

  Logan

  From my living room couch, I heard my apartment door click open.

  “You home?” Stacy called out.

  Yeah, it was a little odd to have your ex-wife walk into your apartment as though she was still married to you. It was probably even weirder when she still had a key to your condo.

  But I guess when you and your ex-wife had been destined to be close friends and nothing more, it shouldn’t have been all that surprising.

  We’d married for the wrong reasons—because it was the right time and because our friends were getting married. We had never been super in love (as Stacy put it when we decided to divorce). Certainly not in the way she and Tony were.

  “I’m in the living room.” I set the book I’d been reading on the coffee table.

  “You decent?” Her voice moved down the hallway toward where I was sitting.

  I chuckled. “It’s not like you haven’t already seen it. But yes, I’m decent.”

  Right, there was one time last month when Stacy entered my apartment and found me sitting on my couch in my boxer briefs. Hell, it was my condo, and I could do whatever I pleased—within reason.

  If I wanted to sit on my couch butt-naked, that was my choice.

  Anyway, she got in a tizzy over it. And I had a good laugh because, like I’d said, it wasn’t as if she’d never seen me naked.

  It also helped that I knew Livi wasn’t with her. It had been past her bedtime.

  Much like now. The sky outside the living room windows was dark.

  Stacy entered the room—and the first thing she zoomed in on was the book I’d been reading.

  She picked it up, eyes wide. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  “I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You never read this when I was pregnant with Livi. So what? Now that I’m pregnant with Tony’s baby, you’ve finally decided to check it out?” She flipped it over as if expecting to discover it was something entirely different from what the front cover claimed.

  I took the book from her and returned it to the coffee table. “That’s not why I’m reading it.”

  “So, why are you reading it?”

  “Because you were right about Kiera Ashdown. She’s pregnant.”

  “Wow. I wonder who the father is.” Stacy walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cabinet, and helped herself to the milk in the fridge. “You want something to drink?”

  Even when she wasn’t in her own home, Stacy couldn’t stop playing gracious host.

  “Sure, I’ll have what you’re having.”

  She removed another glass, filled it, and handed it to me.

  “It’s Stephen’s baby,” I said.

  She stared at me, stunned, mouth open, eyes ready to pop out of her head. “Stephen? As in her dead husband, Stephen?”

  How had I felt when Kiera told me that?

  Shocked. When I saw her at the ball, she’d seemed like she was finally ready to move on.

  She certainly hadn’t come off as a woman who had just gotten pregnant with her dead husband’s frozen sperm. Maybe I was wrong, but that didn’t seem like moving on to me.

  It was more like clinging to his memory.

  In a big way.

  I had no idea what she was even thinking. Hell, I had no idea what Stephen would have thought of that. No, I knew exactly what he would have thought.

  The idea of leaving his child without a father would have upset him. He’d been close to his parents. He’d worshiped his father. He used to tell me stories of all the things he and his dad had done together when he was a kid.

  My father was a good man. Maybe he’d pushed me hard at hockey when I was growing up because he’d had ambitions for me to one day be drafted in the NHL, but he was still a good man. Only, he was nothing like Stephen’s father.

  Stephen would have been a great dad, too.

  He would never have wanted his child to grow up without a father—which was precisely what was going to happen.

  Stacy continued staring at me as if I’d told her I was moving to the moon.

  In my underwear.

  “Kiera’s pregnant with her dead husband’s baby?” She said the words slowly, shock dripping from them like chocolate syrup. “How is that even possible?”

  “She used his frozen sperm.”

  “I guess that’s one way to do it. But why would she do that? I mean, I get that she loved him and wants to keep a part of him with her, but a baby? And to do it alone?”

  “She’s not going to be alone.” I pointed to the What to Expect book on the table.

  If I’d thought Stacy looked shocked before, that was nothing compared to now.

  “What do you mean she’s not going to be alone? You’re not planning to take Stephen’s place as the baby’s father, are you?”

  “Of course not. I’m going to be the friend she needs.”

  “I’m sure she already has friends, Logan.”

  Right. She did. “I’m not just doing this for Kiera. I’m doing it for Stephen, too. It’s what he would’ve wanted me to do.”

  Stacy walked to the couch and sat down. Hard. Milk sloshed over the side of her glass onto her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Stephen wouldn’t have expected you to become the baby’s surrogate father.”

  I sat next to her. “Who said anything about being the baby’s father? You know I’m not good father material.” I waved in the general direction of Livi’s secondary bedroom.

  “You’re a good father, Logan. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
. No, you weren’t around for our daughter as much as you should have been, but we were young when we had her. We weren’t ready to be parents.”

  Christ, she made it sound like we were teens when Livi was conceived. Granted, we hadn’t exactly been married when Stacy discovered she was pregnant, but we had been engaged.

  “We weren’t that young,” I reminded her. “Anyway, Kiera’s got the ultrasound appointment this week, and I’m going with her.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be focusing on the playoffs? This isn’t the kind of distraction you need.”

  “I hardly think taking a pregnant woman to her ultrasound appointment counts as a distraction.” At least I didn’t think it did. But what did I know? I didn’t exactly have a world of experience in that department.

  Stacy took a sip of her milk. “Are you sure this isn’t something more than you helping out a friend?”

  “What more could there be?”

  No one had been aware of my feelings for Kiera in college.

  And that included Stacy.

  Nor did she know that I’d had sex with Kiera at the ball.

  So I had no idea what she was getting at.

  Kiera and I were friends. Plain and simple.

  She needed a man like Stephen. A man who would never let her down. I’d already proved I wasn’t that man. Nor was I looking to be him.

  Her eyes studied me for a second. But I guess whatever she’d expected to find was missing, because she lifted her shoulders and changed topics.

  “You’re coming to Tony’s surprise birthday party on Sunday, aren’t you? It’s in the afternoon.”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there. I don’t suppose a woman in a bikini will be jumping out of the birthday cake?” I chuckled, knowing full well that Martha Stewart would never consider having someone jump out of a cake, clothed or otherwise.

  Stacy flashed me a What-do-you-think? look that made me laugh harder.

  “I need your help distracting him so I can set up the party. Can you invite him out somewhere, then bring him home in time for the party?”

  “Me? Doesn’t he have friends who can help you out?”

  “Yes, but you’re my friend, and I’m asking you to help me out.”

  “Where exactly am I supposed to take him? A strip club?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  I flashed her a one-sided grin. “I take it that’s a no on the strip club?”

  I wasn’t one for that kind of entertainment, and I assumed Tony wasn’t either. It wasn’t a topic we had ever discussed.

  Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing sexier than watching a woman dance while removing her clothes. But I preferred when it was done in the bedroom with an audience of one: me.

  The last thing I wanted was to watch a woman strip in front of a bunch of drunk, slobbering fools. Call me selfish if you must, but it just wasn’t that appealing.

  Besides, when one-on-one with a woman you crave to taste, you both enjoy the benefits post removal of clothes.

  Those drooling idiots can’t say the same.

  “So, any idea where I’m supposed to take him?” I asked. It wasn’t like he and I did things together, just the two of us. When he and I were together, it was always with Livi and Stacy.

  “You could take him to the gardening center. He’d like that.”

  “Really? The gardening center? Since when do I need to hang out at a gardening center?” I spread my arms wide, gesturing to the fact that I lived in a condo. “It’s not like I need lawn fertilizer and bedding plants.”

  “You could get some herb plants for your balcony. Actually, you’d be amazed at what you could do to turn it into a little oasis out there.”

  Stacy’s eyes took on the gleam that I recognized only too well. It was her Martha-Stewart gleam. What did that mean? She was visualizing exactly how Martha would renovate my poor balcony.

  And it would mean a helluva lot more than a few potted herbs.

  It would definitely be safer to take Tony to the gardening center than it would be to take Stacy.

  “All right, I’ll take him to the gardening center. What time do you need him home by?”

  “Three. I’ll need two hours to set everything up.”

  “Two hours? What the hell do you need two hours for?” Right—did I really need to ask?

  “Danielle’s coming over to help me. Otherwise, I’d need more like three hours just to be safe.”

  Something told me I’d gotten the better end of the deal. I had helped Stacy set up for parties when we were married. Let’s just say I didn’t envy Danielle one bit.

  21

  Kiera

  “What am I going to do?”

  Ava, Chloe, and I were sitting in the staff room, eating our lunch. My ultrasound appointment was that afternoon, and this was the first I’d been able to tell them about my in-laws’ surprise visit.

  “Wow. Your mother-in-law is really throwing a gender reveal party?” Chloe inspected the invitation I’d given her on Judith’s behalf.

  I had to admit it was adorable. The cartoon boy elephant was holding a hockey stick, and the girl elephant wore a pink tutu.

  Clichéd? Maybe a little.

  But I did take ballet when I was four years old. Three years later, my aspiration of being a ballerina fizzled, and I stopped the classes.

  Underneath the elephants, the card read:

  Little He or Little She

  Join us to see what baby Ashdown will be…

  Sunday, April 19th at 3:30 pm.

  “Looks like it,” I said. “Please tell me both of you can make it. I need all the support I can get to survive the party.”

  Chloe and Ava grimaced.

  Never a good sign.

  “We’re supposed to help Liam and Landon with one of their missions.” Ava was referring to her husband and Chloe’s boyfriend. “Normally, we have nothing to do with their jobs, but they need our help this time to pull it off.”

  Even though I tried to keep my face a disappointment-free zone, I must have failed. Ava hastily added, “But I can text Liam and see if something else can be worked out so we can be at your party.”

  Before I could say anything, she was typing on her phone.

  Chloe flashed me a reassuring smile that missed the mark. “Are you telling your mom and mother-in-law the gender beforehand, or do they have to wait for the reveal like everyone else?”

  “The reverse. I’m supposed to give the ultrasound technician the envelope with the card inside to write the gender on. Judith will take care of everything else. I’ll learn it the same time as the guests.”

  Ava returned her phone to the table. “I thought you weren’t planning to find out what you’re having until the baby is born?”

  “I wasn’t, but I could hardly tell Stephen’s mother that after she and her husband flew all this way to throw the reveal party.”

  “But it’s not even her grandchild.” Fortunately, Ava lowered her voice so no one else could hear that minor technicality.

  “I know that, and you know that, but she doesn’t.”

  “When exactly are you planning to tell her?”

  I winced. “I have no idea. Maybe I don’t have to tell them. Is it really wrong, letting them think Love Bug is their grandchild?”

  At Ava’s and Chloe’s raised eyebrows, I rushed on. “You should have seen how excited she was. Stephen was Judith and Joe’s only son. When he died, they were devastated, partly because that meant there would be no grandchildren for them.”

  “So, you were going to tell them that you’re pregnant?” Chloe asked.

  I shook my head. “I figured since the baby wasn’t Stephen’s, there was no point in them ever finding out.”

  “How did they find out?”

  “My mom. She was so excited to share the news even though I told her I would tell Stephen’s mom. I thought that would be enough to keep Judith from finding out about the baby.”

  “You could have told his mom the truth whe
n you saw them the other day,” Ava pointed out.

  I could have in theory, but it was too late for that now.

  “You’re blonde, and so was Stephen. But you said the baby daddy had brown hair.”

  “That’s right.”

  It took a second for Ava’s point to sink in, and my stomach suddenly felt as though a frantic fish was flopping inside it. “I don’t remember genetics very well. Is brown hair a dominant or recessive trait?”

  Chloe and Ava exchanged looks and shrugged.

  Chloe whipped out her phone and tapped away on the screen. “According to the website I’m looking at, if both parents are blond, the child will be blond. So as long as you and Stephen were natural blonds, Love Bug would have been blond if Stephen had been his father.

  “But since you’re blonde, and the baby daddy has brown hair, it’s more likely Love Bug will have brown hair. But there’s also a chance he or she will be blond. It depends on Grayson’s parents. If one of them is blond, Love Bug could wind up being blond. There’s a fifty percent chance of that happening.”

  I perked up at hearing this. “So there’s a chance Judith and Joe will never have to know the truth about Love Bug if I decide not to tell them in the end. They can keep believing they’re going to be grandparents.”

  Even though I should’ve been relieved, a large part of me was swimming in the pool of guilt, clinging to an inflatable swan.

  Waiting for a bird to peck at it.

  “It’s a slim chance,” Chloe conceded, “but it’s still a chance.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to tell them the truth?” Ava asked.

  “I will tell them the truth if Grayson wants to be Love Bug’s father. But you should see how happy Stephen’s parents have been since arriving in San Francisco. I can’t tell them the truth and destroy that—even though I might have to in the end.”

  Ava’s phone pinged, and she read the screen.

  I didn’t have to ask what it said.

  Her face revealed it all.