He holds up his hands like, “Whatever, you know I’m telling the truth.”
He doesn’t know jack. “Tell him, Roadie.”
“What?” He stretches after not getting a lot of action down by him. What’s happened to Langley’s team? They suck.
“Tell him how protective you are of your kids.”
“You touch my kid and I kill you.” He laughs. “In all seriousness, I get you’re worried, but that PR girl could probably run a daycare. She’s just got that look about her.”
My eyebrows furrow. “What the hell does that mean?” And why does everyone keep saying that?
Aiden skates by me. “I thought we were actually playing a game here.”
I skate after the opponent on Aiden’s back and push him into the boards. “Happy?”
He shoots the puck at me. “Score for your daughter, shithead.”
I smile and wink, taking the puck with my stick and circling past a defender. Tweetie, Aiden, and I get into our usual rhythm, and they get me the puck right as I skate past the goalie then around the net and score on the wrap around. The red light on top of the net comes on and the buzzer blares.
I glance over my shoulder and see Lena and Gavin in deep conversation, not even noticing I scored. Well, that was for Mom, I guess.
Tweetie laughs his ass off and points at me with his glove covered hand. “You’re jealous. Damn, Ford Jacobs jealous. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I’m not fucking jealous.”
Tweetie follows me off the ice. “Then let’s make a bet. See how long you can hold out with no sex. I mean, if there’s no one you’re not actively going after, why not?” He gives me a shit-eating grin.
“What could you possibly bet me that I’d want?”
Both of our asses land on the bench with a thud.
“You get bragging rights and can say you won. Please, everyone knows there’s nothing we have that you’d want.”
I shrug because he’s right.
“Unless you think you can’t do it,” Tweetie says.
“Don’t try that reverse psychology shit on me. I can do it. There’s no one I want to sleep with anyway.” I’ll be so busy with Annabelle, I won’t have to deal with temptation, so this will be an easy win. “Okay, then six weeks.”
“Two months,” Tweetie ups it.
“Have you ever even gone two weeks without it?” I ask him.
He laughs. “Right now, Tedi’s got me on a three-times-a-day schedule. She jokes that I’m her breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Of course Tweetie gets a fucking nympho for a girlfriend. Bastard.
I take off my glove and put out my hand. Deal sealed.
As if the universe knows, the buzzer goes off and the period is over.
Thankfully, Gavin accepted my excuse to get out of dinner with him since I had Annabelle. He looked disappointed, but my plate is way too full right now to be dating anyone. It’s just not a priority for me.
I find myself waiting with a bunch of fans and puck bunnies for the team to leave the arena. I’m so annoyed I have to be here, but I’m happy it’s dark out so no one really notices the baby carrier I have. Especially since I purposely set myself to the back.
A few players come out, and I recognize Aiden and Maksim in the small group. They come over to me, a few bunnies annoyed that they don’t give them the time of day.
“He’ll be right out. Coach wanted to talk to him,” Aiden says.
“Thanks.”
They nod and continue toward their cars.
“Carmelo’s?” Maksim asks.
“Fuck no. I’m gonna go bury myself in Saige tonight.”
“Thanks for the TMI,” Maxsim says.
Aiden laughs, sliding into his SUV, then drives out of the lot.
“Is that Ford Jacobs’ baby?” A woman pulls my attention away from the parking lot.
I wrap my arms around the carrier and the baby inside. “Um…”
“It is!” The woman who’s practically dressed like she’s ready for the beach waves her friends over. “This woman has Ford Jacobs’ baby!”
Before I can blink, a bunch of women swarm me.
I tightly hold the carrier, swatting away hands as they try to pull down the hood to get a look at her. “Stop it!” I will cut a bitch if they even think of touching Annabelle.
“Come on. He’s been so hush-hush,” another woman says.
“God, I wish I had his baby,” one woman whines.
“What an idiot that baby mama is for running off,” another says.
“Who would leave Ford fucking Jacobs?” a woman calls, trying to peek over all the women’s heads.
“Listen—” I put up my hand.
“Are you dating him?” a woman asks and snaps a picture, blinding me momentarily.
“No. I’m his publicist and please step back. She’s sleeping.” I take a step farther back, but they just follow.
“Oh, how darling,” one says and comes over to the side.
I whip around the carrier, putting a hand inside to keep Annabelle calm. “Please just go back to waiting for whoever you’re waiting for.”
“I had my eyes on Ford. I figured he’d need a nanny or two.”
“Hell, I was going to apply for the job.”
“And wear a slutty outfit every day,” someone else says, and all the women laugh.
I get them wanting to sleep with Ford. I mean, my libido is off the charts every time he enters the room, but to wait outside for him to come out and hope he picks you out of a group of women? Have some self-respect, ladies. You deserve so much better than that.
“Sorry, I’m only taking one girl home tonight.” Ford slides through the group and I swear the women’s hands touch any part of him they can reach. He flawlessly leads me through the crowd with his hand on my lower back. “Let’s go.”
The minute we’re clear of the group, women yell after him.
“Daddies need love too,” one says.
“Don’t you want company after she falls asleep?” says another.
Ford ignores them, walking us to a Mercedes I didn’t know he owned. The only car I knew of him having in Florida is a restored Bronco.
When he clicks her into her car seat, Annabelle wails.
He looks over his shoulder at me, back at the women, and blows out a breath. “Do me a solid and sit in the back with her while I get us out of here?”
I nod and get in the back seat, running my knuckles down Annabelle’s cheek, trying to calm her.
“Thanks.” He buckles in the front.
The women have migrated away from the area where the players come out and are only inches away when he squeals his tires and leaves the parking lot. I refrain from mentioning anything about his driving with Annabelle in the car. He had to pick between two evils. Once we’re on the highway, he slows.
“So, is that a usual occurrence?” I ask.
“The women?” His eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror.
“Mmmhmm.”
“Yep.”
Annabelle plays with the little stuffed cow hanging from the top of the car seat while I stare out the window, not about to ask how many times he’s partaken in those women.