Winger (Seattle Sharks 3)

Then what do I want?

That was the question.

“I want to be a good mom,” I said out loud.

“You will be,” Paige said.

“You’ll be the best mom,” Bailey agreed. “And we know you will be whether you tell this guy or not.”

“I told you, I left a message.” I tried not to growl.

I was hot and hormonal and just so tired of thinking about Warren. Our night haunted me in more ways than one—that whole rumor about getting hornier in the second trimester? Totally fucking true. I couldn’t reach myself to get off properly, and I’d sworn off men for the next eighteen years.

“Come on, Jeannine,” Paige snapped. “You are a strong, self-sustaining, bad-ass chef, and an incredible woman. We know you don’t need the man. We’re not asking you to throw an engagement party. But he deserves more than a message. And you owe it to yourself to know for sure what his move is in this or not.”

I sighed.

I knew they were right.

But I was ignoring it.

I could do that, right? Pregnancy card and all.

“Ohmygod,” Bailey said, her eyes widening as she stared at my belly.

“What?” I jolted, slamming my drink down and rubbing my hands all over my belly as she continued to stare.

“What the hell, Bailey?” Paige asked.

“You said party,” she whispered, glancing at Paige then to me.

My heart stopped and restarted in my chest.

They couldn’t know.

If they knew, they’d find a way to force Warren and me into a room.

They were married to his best friends. They had power like that.

“So?” Paige waved her hand in a get to the point motion.

“The last party we threw—Warren’s going away—was six months ago.”

“Who wants another drink?” I asked, forcing myself out of the chair and rushing toward the kitchen.

The girls followed me, Bailey looking shocked, and Paige looking clueless.

Damn you, Bailey.

“She’s six months pregnant.” Bailey rested her hands on my kitchen island.

Paige gasped. “So, the father was at Warren’s party?”

I closed my eyes.

“Who would she sleep with at—” Paige’s words died as she clamped her hands over her mouth.

Damn you, both.

I smoothed my hand over my stomach, the life inside me flipping around as my heart rate spiked.

It always did whenever I thought about actually facing Warren.

Seeing him after all these months.

So much had changed.

I had changed.

And not just my body, but my outlook. What I used to believe would be a damper on my career was now a much-anticipated hope and thrill inside me.

I was going to be a mom.

This baby was mine.

My heart.

My soul.

And I couldn’t wait to take care of him or her.

But if Warren knew—there was a possibility he might want to rob me of this solo-mission I’d taken upon myself. And he said it himself; he’d be a terrible father. I wasn’t about to let my baby be subjected to that.

“Jeannine,” Bailey said, somehow her quiet voice so damned loud in the silent kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“He doesn’t want a baby.” I shrugged. “He didn’t want any of this.”

“Gage has talked to him like a dozen times in the last six months!”

“Rory, too,” Paige added.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know,” I said. “Back when I wasn’t showing I was there for some of those times. Aren’t you wondering why Gage and Rory haven’t brought this up?” I pointed to my stomach. “Why they still don’t know about me?”

They both blinked at me.

“Because Warren hasn’t talked to them about it. Never brought it up.” I sighed. “I left him a message. He chose to ignore it. Case closed.”

Bailey shook her head. “Warren may be a beast-like playboy, but he isn’t a bad guy. He wouldn’t ignore this.”

“He really wouldn’t,” Paige said, her hand on my shoulder.

“Well,” I said, a dark chuckle on my lips. “He sure has a funny way of showing attention, then.”

“No,” Bailey said. “There has to be another explanation.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I swallowed hard. “It’s too late anyway.”

“It’s never too late to do the right thing, Nine,” Bailey said, and I hated that she was right.

“You’re going to run into him sooner or later.” Paige dropped her hand.

“Why?” My gaze darted between them both.

“Because he got back last night,” Paige answered.

Oh, fucking hell.

Okay, so he hadn’t decided to stay in Canada like I secretly hoped and dreaded. Perfect.

I blew out a breath, glancing down at my belly. “It doesn’t change anything,” I said. “I highly doubt he spent the last six months thinking about our one-night-stand and saying you know I’m done with my bachelor ways, I want to be a daddy.”

I chuckled, and the girls did, too.

“You never know until you talk to him.” Bailey hugged me from behind, and Paige hugged me from the front. Together we made one poorly shaped triangle of love, but it was exactly what I needed.

“And if he hasn’t changed? If he’s mad at me for keeping the baby?” I whispered, terrified to speak my worst fears too loudly.

“He would never say that,” Paige said, releasing me.

“He’s a good man. A beast but a good one.” Bailey said, stepping back.

“What Shark isn’t?” I asked, trying to joke but the nerves were quickly suffocating me.

I would have to see Warren.

I’d have to look him in those dark, sexy eyes, and show him what our night—and morning—of passion had created.

And I had to hope to God that seeing him wouldn’t instantly turn me into some weeping damsel due to hormones and seeing the biological father of my child. Because honestly, I could handle this on my own. I knew I could.

But if he wanted to be a part of it?

Be in my life, in the baby’s?

I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to do both.

And that is what scared me most of all.

“All right,” I finally said. “You tell me where they’ll be next, and I’ll talk to him.”

Both of the girls smiled.

“They have a pick-up game tomorrow,” Bailey said.

“Of course, they do,” I said, rolling my eyes. I held my stomach. “Well, baby. I guess we couldn’t hide forever.”

Chapter 2

Warren

Gage hit the puck with only half the ferocity he usually did, not wanting to risk hurting himself in a simple pick-up game. Still packed a hell of a punch. Gliding across the ice, I soared around him, blocking his attempt at the goal.

“Bailey and the kids keep you up all night?” I teased.

“Every night, man. Every. Night.” He laughed, now merely skating than playing.

We’d already been at it for a few hours, and while the guys over in the Canadian camp had kept me in shape, it was nothing compared to playing against my boys. I was beat, but happy.

“I’ve missed you guys,” I said and waved off their exaggerated awws. “Fuck you,” I said as Rory skated over to us.

“No, it’s cute,” Rory said. “I mean, you did practically ghost us for six months.”

I scoffed. “For the last time I didn’t ghost anyone,” I said. “My cell got wrecked the day I went over there, and I lost all my data. Everything. Wiped clean.”

Rory skidded to a stop near the box, and Gage and I followed.

“Just think,” Rory said, waving his hand in the air. “All those women’s numbers, gone.”

I cringed.

He wasn’t wrong, but while I’d been over there only one woman had been on my mind.

Almost annoyingly so.

A pretty prefect blonde chef—my one wild night with Jeannine had ruined me for any Canadian beauties that sauntered my way. I hadn’t been with anyone since like Jeannine had put some kind of voodoo on my dick.

Now that I was back?

I wanted her.

Again and again.

That in of itself was shocking and terrifying and had kept me from asking Rory or Gage to give me her number.

“Whoa,” Rory said, dropping his arm. “You aren’t sad about that at all, are you?” His helmet off, he narrowed his eyes at me, Gage mirroring a look of what the fuck?