Marek

  "Here, let me help you," I offered Lilly with my hands outstretched, prepared to pull her shirt off and put it on correctly.

  At the same time, Gracen made an appearance in the kitchen and Lilly said to me, "I can do it."

  Gracen had a fond smile on her face as she watched Lilly struggle to take off the shirt. I observed a moment before stepping in to help her, and Gracen gave a quick shake of her head at me. "Let her do it herself."

  My jaw tightened and I moved back from Lilly. I watched as she ungracefully but with fierce determination got the shirt off. She looked inside to locate the tag in the back, her little tongue peeking out as she concentrated. It's something I do as well--stick my tongue out when I'm concentrating on something. You can see me do it on the ice every time I have a breakaway. There's no describing the feeling I got as I realized she probably inherited that from me, because Gracen never had that little quirk.

  Lilly then put the shirt on correctly and beamed up at her mom. "I did it."

  "You are all kinds of awesome," Gracen said as she bent over to kiss Lilly on the top of her head. She then walked into the living room and turned on the TV. "You can watch Paw Patrol while I make you some pancakes."

  "Can I watch Barbie?" Lilly quipped.

  Gracen responded with a crisp, "Absolutely not," and I had to think that Barbie must not have been a suitable show for our daughter.

  I followed Gracen into the kitchen, and while she made herself a cup of coffee, I sidled in closer to her. In a low voice, I said, "So you don't dress our kid in the morning?"

  It came out menacing and defensive. Gracen merely arched her eyebrow at me in question.

  "She's only three years old," I muttered.

  "Three and a half closing in on four and has been dressing herself for months," Gracen said proudly. "It makes her feel good to do things for herself and frankly, it's my job to make her independent."

  The force of her words slammed into me so hard I took a step back. I know so little of parenting that I made a judgment call about Gracen's ability without clearly knowing what the fuck I'm talking about. It's so new to me, being a dad, that I want to do everything for Lilly because I never got to do anything for her.

  Gracen however is actually "raising" her. Helping her to grow up.

  All I could do was mutter, "Got it," and then I turned away from her. I declined her offer to make me some pancakes too, and was only all too glad to slink out of my house to come help Holt. Clearly I had a lot to learn.

  It's why busting shit up at Holt's house appealed to me. I could take out my frustrations in a physical way.

  "Think she's going to stay for the long haul?" Reed asks.

  I give a little shake of my head to clear my thoughts. "Why wouldn't she?"

  Reed shrugged his shoulders. "The better question is why would she?"

  "Because she knows not to fuck with me," I growl back at him. "I won't let her keep Lilly away from me."

  The softening of Reed's face puts me on edge. He's been antagonistic to me since I brought Gracen and Lilly here, being the one person who is calling me on my shit. The fact he's looking at me empathetically bothers the shit out of me.

  "What?" The defensive tone in my voice lets him know just how much he's wigging me out.

  "You can't stop her from going back," Reed says softly. "You may think you could win a custody battle, but you can't. No judge is going to take Lilly away from Gracen and give her to you when you travel ten out of twelve months a year. You're smart and you know that, so you need to let that threat go and figure out how to make her want to stay."

  A feeling of panic rises up within me as I realize what Reed says is true. I've been all bluster with my threats to Gracen and it's worked so far in putting her right where I want her. But Reed is right: I can't parent Lilly full time on my own. Gracen and her career as a nurse makes her a far more stable option for our daughter.

  Jesus.

  "Might I suggest you be nice to Gracen," Reed says offhandedly. "Give her a reason to want to stay. You two don't have to be friends, you only have to be civil to each other around Lilly. She'll stay and you'll be able to get to know your daughter in the time that you have available during the season."

  Another crushing weight pushes down on my shoulders.

  The hockey season.

  Training camp starts next week. Travel starts the week after that. My opportunities with Lilly will be scarce, and for the first time in my adult life, I think there is something more important than hockey to me.

  A flash of guilt hits me that I didn't feel that way when I broke things off with Gracen. I was young and wanted freedom. I wanted to do my own thing. Would I still have felt that way if I knew she was pregnant? I hope to fuck not, but who I am today isn't who I was back then.

  This is a disconcerting thought, because the images in my mind as I think about how to manage time with Lilly and career aren't just of Lilly. I imagine Gracen in my kitchen cooking pancakes for both Lilly and me, or Gracen and Lilly at one of my games.

  I shake my head hard in denial of what this all might mean to me.

  Reed's comment about me being nicer to Gracen hangs heavy in the air. I don't feel like addressing it because I know he's right and he knows I know he's right. No sense in hashing it out.

  "I hear what you're saying," I admit to him. "And I'm working on the anger thing with Gracen."

  Jesus...last night I wasn't angry at all with her. Last night I wanted to be buried inside her body.

  Reed nods at me, his eyes expressing he's done meddling in our lives. But he's not done talking. "So how's it going with you and Lilly?"

  I shake my head with a small smile. "That kid is amazing, and I'm trying to figure out how to communicate with her. She's so little I think she doesn't know much, but she's smart as shit. Sometimes it's like talking to a miniature adult."

  Chuckling, Reed leans back against the counter. "You've got a lot of fun times ahead of you, brother."

  "I think so," I say neutrally. I'm afraid to even think that way, as I'm still pretty much scared shitless because I have no clue what I'm doing.

  "When are you going to tell everyone?" Reed asks.

  I groan and look up to the ceiling. "Shit, man. I don't even want to have to deal with that. I'll have to tell the team, of course. And my parents. I've been trying to figure out how to lay this on them."

  Reed scoffs at my hesitation. "They'll be thrilled, dude. You know that."

  Yes, my parents are going to go nuts when they find out they have a granddaughter. More so because they're both retired and live here in Raleigh during the cold months. They've become official Cold Fury traveling fans and go to most of my games both home and away. My dad was an investment advisor and was damn good at it. He doesn't have to work another day in his life and now he and my mom would like nothing more than to be full-time grandparents. They won't be leaving New York to come down here until late November, and I can't wait that long to tell them. In fact, it's got to be something I do sooner rather than later, and knowing my parents, they will want to come down immediately and meet Lilly.

  I have to figure out how to explain Gracen keeping this from me, though. For some reason, I don't want them to be mad at her the way I am.

  Or was. Not sure I still am.

  Fuck, this is confusing, and I'm tired of thinking about it.

  Tired of thinking about my anger and how to be a good dad. Tired of thinking about the years I lost with my daughter, and while it doesn't necessarily tire me out to think about it, I sure as hell would like to forget about the images of me almost kissing Gracen last night.

  I would like to stop thinking about her like that completely, but I know it's probably not likely.

  So I pick the sledgehammer back up once again and tell him, "Let's get this shit knocked out."

  Reed nods in understanding.

  This conversation is over for now.

  Chapter 8

  Gracen

/>   The doorbell rings and I take a quick peek in the oven. My quiche is starting to brown nicely on top, so I turn the gas off before cutting through the dining room to the front foyer.

  Josie stands on the other side of the door when I open it, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of Hershey Kisses in the other.

  "I have to say, your wine and chocolate sound a lot better than the quiche I have in the oven," I say dryly as I step back to let her in.

  Josie chuckles as she enters and then gives me a wink. "Quiche sounds wonderful. We'll drink wine with it and have the chocolate for dessert."

  "I like the way you think," I tell her with a grin, and she follows me back into the kitchen.

  "Where's Lilly?" she asks as she sets her gifts on the counter and plops down one of the stools at the L-shaped island.

  "It's her nap time," I say as I use oven mitts to pull the quiche out. "I put her down a little early after we made lunch plans."

  Said lunch plans were unexpected and a joy to receive. Josie had called me not long after Marek had slunk out of the house this morning to go help one of his teammates.

  And yes, he slunk. He felt like shit for judging me, as well he should. But I let it go, knowing that he doesn't understand hardly anything about being a parent. It made me brood while I lingered over coffee and Lilly ate pancakes. Trying to reconcile angry Marek with judgmental Marek, and trying to reconcile those two Mareks with the one who tried to seduce me last night.

  Josie was a nice distraction. She asked if we could do lunch today, and I invited her over to the house because I had intended to try this new quiche recipe I'd formulated in my mind. It's full of spinach, goat cheese, and feta cheese and I hope it tastes all right.

  Smells all right for sure.

  "So there's a job opening at the hospital where I work," Josie says out of the blue, and I almost drop the quiche. I set it down on top of the stove and drop the mitts on the counter as I turn to face her. "It's not neonatal, but they are searching for a labor and delivery nurse. In fact, the job hasn't even been posted publicly yet, but feelers were put out to staff for any personal recommendations."

  "Okay," I say hesitantly.

  "If you're interested, I want to personally recommend you," she continues.

  "But why?" I blurt out, walking to the island that separates us. "You don't even know me."

  "That's true," she replies with a wave of her hand. "So maybe let's start with this...are you interested in a job here, and if so, are you qualified?"

  "Of course I'm qualified," I tell her with a smile. "And I have excellent references. My supervisor was surprisingly understanding of why I had to leave so soon without giving notice, so I'm not too worried about that. But I'm not sure how to answer your first question, am I interested?"

  "Because if you were interested that would mean you're reconciled to stay here permanently," Josie drawls as if she's hazarding a guess.

  It's a damn good guess. Still, I hedge slightly. "It would be a fresh start for me."

  Josie studies me for a moment, but then she just merely nods toward the quiche. "Want to serve that? I'm starving."

  The request startles me for a moment, but then I remember my head. "Yeah, sorry. Let me get some plates."

  I slip into hostess mode and plate up two perfectly sliced pieces of the quiche. As I reach for some forks out of the drawer to my right, Josie asks, "Are you here to stay then?"

  If I had my way, yes.

  If Owen gets his way, no.

  My answer comes out without thought, because Lord knows I've spent a lot of damn time thinking about it already. "I think I'd like to. But I want to get my own place. It's just not going to work out staying at Marek's house."

  "Is he still being a dick?" Josie asks as she stabs her fork down into the quiche. "Because I can get Reed--"

  I shake my head and hold my hand up to stop her. "No, nothing like that. I mean, he's still angry at me, but it's waning. I can tell."

  "Then what's the problem? That's one less pressure on you right now, having to find a place to stay and pay for it."

  Another hard shake of my head. "That's not it. It's just..."

  My words trail off because it's all kinds of fucked up. I don't even want to say it out loud.

  But Josie's eyes go a little wide as if she's had an internal epiphany and she leans across the table a bit more to whisper, "Oh my God. You still have feelings for him, don't you."

  Shame drags my head down, and when I risk a peek back at her, I admit, "I always have. Even as angry as I was at him for breaking my heart, you never forget your first love."

  "And now you two have been thrown back together in less than ideal circumstances," she muses out loud, as if she's trying to put pieces of a puzzle together.

  "It doesn't really matter," I say quickly to stop her from taking this any further. "Marek will never forgive me for what I did, keeping Lilly a secret. And besides, he's just a playboy. He might want to mature up and be a daddy, but that's all there will ever be between us. Parenting responsibilities. He's made it perfectly clear that he likes his freedom from a romantic commitment."

  "I don't know about that," Josie says as she shakes her head. "You should have seen him when he found out you were getting married. He was freaked out big time. I think he's still got feelings."

  "Doesn't matter," I maintain staunchly, refusing to even let myself think about that. Things are way too up in the air with Owen throwing a wrench into things and expecting me back in New York in a few weeks. "Everything's changed now that he found out I had Lilly and didn't tell him."

  Except...he did almost kiss me last night.

  But he was drunk, Gracen.

  Drunk and being stupid. That's all there is to it.

  "We're friends, right?" Josie asks me as she sets her fork down and I blink at her in confusion.

  "Um...yeah."

  "Okay, then I'm going to get all up in your business and be nosy, and if we're not that good of friends or we don't have the potential to be that good of friends, tell me to shove it and mind my own business."

  "Okay," I say hesitantly.

  "Honestly...no shit. Friend to friend and I'll take this to my grave--I won't even tell Reed--but I sense there's more to this story. What's the deal with Owen?"

  My cheeks turn hot that she's asking me point blank now as a new friend and someone who's just laid a job opportunity before me. More important, I really like Josie and think we could become very good friends.

  I weigh keeping my secret versus letting one person in on the entire truth, especially since she's said she won't tell anyone else, including Reed. I don't want my shitty predicament to get back to Marek, who already thinks I've got a few screws loose in the head for keeping Lilly a secret.

  With a heaving sigh, I poke my fork down into the quiche and unburden myself. "Owen was blackmailing me to marry him."

  When I risk a glance at Josie, she blinks at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. "I don't even know what to say to that."

  "You can probably call me an idiot for getting caught up in it," I mutter before taking my first bite of the quiche.

  I can't help the tiny moan. Man, that tastes like heaven, and I'll be making this recipe again.

  "You're not an idiot," Josie says with such assurance someone might believe it. But not me.

  She pushes up from her stool and grabs the bottle of wine. "Where's the corkscrew?"

  I point to a drawer beside the sink.

  "Glasses? And regular glasses are fine. We don't need fancy stuff."

  I point to a cabinet.

  When Josie is back at the counter, she uncorks the wine and pours our drinks. After taking a liberal sip, she nods at me. "Okay. Lay it all on me."

  I set my fork down and take a sip of the wine myself. Then another just for good measure.

  "It just got out of control so fast," I tell her. "I accepted his invitation for a date. I'd known him since high school, and while I didn't ca
re for him then, he'd seemed to mature. Had a bigwig job at the bank his father runs, so I thought, why not? I was tired of being alone."

  Josie nods at me in sympathy. "Girl, you don't know how much I can relate to that, but that's another story for another time. Go on."

  "So I went on a handful of dates with him," I continue with a glum voice. "And they were good. Fine. He seemed nice. He was attentive and kind to Lilly. I mean, there weren't major sparks, but it was fine."

  "He sounds boring as shit," Josie mutters.

  I can't agree with that, because he was anything but boring. He was intense and intimidating. I was always on my toes around him.

  "My parents took out a second mortgage with the bank his father works at to pay for my degree. About a year ago, my dad got laid off from his job and then he injured his back. For one reason or another, he couldn't find a job, and once the savings ran dry, the note went into default."

  "Let me guess," Josie says knowingly. "Owen stepped in and helped."

  "His father is the bank president. At first it was a thirty-day extension when they requested it. Then another. The entire time, he was upping his romance game with me. He started getting serious and dropped hints about marriage. There was no way I was marrying him, but I felt so trapped. He was helping my parents out...pulling strings. So I just sort of played along. I strung him along to be exact."

  Josie's eyebrows raise, but her expression is sympathetic and nonjudgmental. She nods at me to continue.

  "Until I couldn't string him along anymore," I admit to her. "His romantic proposal including a long-winded discussion about how his wife's family would never have to worry about anything in the future. The implication was clear, and to prove himself, he got the note put into a temporary deferral. I knew if I didn't say yes, my parents would lose everything."

  "What a shitbag," Josie mutters.

  "God, I was stupid." The lament in my voice is painful to my ears. "He didn't love me and I knew that. I didn't love him either. I should have never let him bully me into it. I mean...my parents would never have wanted me sacrificing myself to help them out, but I just couldn't stomach the thought of them losing their house when they put it at risk for my college education."

  "Why did he do it?" Josie muses out loud. "I mean, you're gorgeous and sweet and smart, so I get the attraction, but why force a marriage that clearly wasn't based on love?"