Bennett (On the Line Book 2) (6 page)

Not that he’d even suggested a relationship. I was way ahead of myself. I texted him back.

Me: Sorry, busy. Have a good trip.

I’d watch his games on the same Internet channel I’d been catching them on lately. I hadn’t watched many of Liam’s games in the past, but I had a renewed interest now.

Every time I saw his “Morse” sweater on the computer screen, I smiled. Funny thing, having a secret crush on the father of my child. But I kind of did, and I couldn’t have him finding out.

Bennett

I charged down the ice, passing Max Bagwell and edging my stick around the puck. His stick came down on mine and we fought for it. I was breathless, energy surging through me as I dug in and hooked my stick around the puck and eased it to Killian.

“Fucker,” Bagwell muttered.

I was entirely focused on this game, not letting my mind wander to anything else. When the second line climbed over the wall and took the ice, I went to the bench and sat down. After some water and a few deep breaths, I watched the game. My gaze wandered to the section where the girlfriends and wives of the players sat. My teammate Joey Moroni’s wife wore a Flyers sweater, a big grin spreading across her face as she cheered.

I’d never had a woman sitting there. Since moving to Fenway, Indiana, I hadn’t met anyone I wanted a serious relationship with. But now, I was picturing Charlotte sitting up there in one of my sweaters, blond curls loose on her shoulders.

Was it because she was pregnant with my kid? I asked myself that at least once a day. I’d been very disappointed when she hadn’t called after our night together, but I would’ve gotten over it. Now, though . . . now, I missed her.

I thought about her in that shitty apartment with shitty James. I pictured her sleeping between those pink sheets, wishing I was there beside her. I remembered the way she’d said my name when she was about to come on our first night together.

“Atta boy, Snope!” Killian yelled from next to me. He turned to me. “You see that shit?”

I just grunted. Charlotte was blowing me off and it fucking sucked. I wanted to be there for her, not just because she was the mother of my baby but also because she was her. Because I liked what I knew so far and I wanted to know more.

Focus.

I forced my mind back to the game. The last thing I needed right now was to let my game go to shit and get cut from the team. I kept my head where it needed to be until we’d scraped out a 5–4 win.

As soon as I got to the locker room, I found my phone and checked it for a message from Charlotte.

Nothing.

I rarely got pissed when I wasn’t on the ice, but I was getting there. I was trying, but she didn’t seem to want anything to do with me.

I listened to Orion’s post-game talk, showered, and went back to the bus we traveled on. Since the team lived in these close quarters on road trips, not going out for dinner with the guys was the only way I could get some time to myself.

Instead of texting, I dialed Charlotte’s number.

“Bennett,” she said, sounding surprised. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear your voice.”

After a pause, she said, “You did?”

I pictured her in bed, her curls spilling over onto the second pillow I thought of as mine.

“When can I see you?” I asked.

“Why, do we need to talk about something?”

“Yeah, we do.” I climbed up into my bunk and pulled my privacy curtain closed. “Look, I like you. I have to travel a lot, but when I’m home, I want to see you.”

“If you’re concerned I’m not going to let you be part of the baby’s life—”

“It’s not that. I want to see you. We had something. I know we did. And I know things are different than we were expecting, but . . . I still like you.”

“Do you think it was the alcohol? That night, I mean?”

“Not for me. I had two beers that night.”

She sighed. “Bennett, it’s . . . I’ve never done anything like that. Slept with a guy the first night I met him. I wait a long time for that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, well, I like to think you just couldn’t resist me,” I said lightly.

“How often do you have one-night stands?” she asked, unaffected by my charm.

Fuck. I wasn’t going to lie to her, but I was pretty sure the truth wouldn’t go over very well.

“Just the one time since I met you,” I said. “You know, the one you saw at my place. But you know nothing ended up happening with me and her.”

“You’re not sleeping your way through Pensacola?” There was a smile in her tone.

“How do you know I’m in Pensacola?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Hey. Tell me,” I said.

“I may have watched your game on the Internet tonight,” she said, sounding embarrassed. “And you may have played a great one.”

My heart swelled. She’d been watching me. It didn’t matter if she’d been in the stands wearing my sweater; she’d been watching. She cared.

“I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon,” I said. “And I really want to take you out for dinner. Don’t say no.”

She breathed a soft sigh of amusement into the phone. “Okay, I won’t.”

“I’ll text you from the road.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

I ended the call and opened my privacy curtain, grinning with happiness.

“So
that’s
what’s got your panties in a wad,” Liam said. He was leaning against a bunk nearby. “I wondered what your fuckin’ problem’s been lately. Bennett’s got a girlfriend.”

My heart pounded in my chest. He’d been listening? Shit, had I said her name? I doubted it, since he had a shit-eating grin on his face and he didn’t look like he was about to chop my nuts off with an unsharpened knife.

“Fuck off, douche,” I said, glaring at him.

“What’s her name?”

“To you, her name’s
Mom
,” I said, flipping him off with both hands.

He scoffed. “You can’t piss me off tonight, dude. You just gave me enough fodder to rag on you for the next month.”

“Or you could shut your hole,” I suggested. “I’m leaving to get something to eat anyway.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Oh, please let me, Bennett.
Don’t say no
.”

He gripped my arm dramatically.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” I said.

“I don’t care. And I’ll get her name out of you by the end of the night.”

I just shook my head and pushed my phone down farther into my pocket. There was no way he could find out it was his sister I’d just been talking to.

Charlotte

I
hadn’t felt pretty in a while. The morning sickness and fatigue meant I usually wore my hair in a bun at work and sometimes even skipped makeup.

But tonight was different. I wore my favorite old jeans, a black V-neck sweater, and tall, black boots. I’d fixed my hair and put on makeup and even a spritz of perfume.

I felt good. I was finally getting past the sickness and feeling excited about the baby I was carrying. And I was going out with Bennett tonight.

It wasn’t a date. At least, I didn’t think so. It was more about us getting to know each other. It meant a lot to me that he wanted that.

“Whoa,” James said when I walked into the living room. “She broke out the hooker boots. Someone’s looking to get some, folks.”

I gave him a dirty look. “These are not hooker boots.”

“Whatevs, roomie. Bet there’ll be a sock on your door tonight.”

“No, there will not. And that doesn’t even make sense because we don’t share a bedroom.”

James grinned, undeterred. “Who you knockin’ boots with?”

“Oh, geez. The nineties called and they’d like their slang back.”

Our doorbell rang and James and I locked eyes. He was closer to the door. I rushed over, but he got to it first. I cringed at the image Bennett must be seeing—James, with a chocolate milk mustache, wearing a T-shirt that said, “Born for Porn.”

“Hey, James. Is Charlotte here?”

I stepped around the back of the door, my mouth open with surprise.

“Riley? What are you doing here?”

He wore khakis, a sweater, and loafers and carried a brown paper sack, which he raised up.

“Brought Chinese. I heard you telling Sara you don’t have plans tonight, so I thought we’d hang out.”

“No. I can’t.”

Riley frowned. “Come on. I miss you. You’re my best friend, Charlotte.”

I was about to respond when Riley turned to someone who was approaching my front door. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Bennett Morse. Who are you?”

Bennett walked the last couple steps and I took him in. Jeans, a flannel, and the black leather jacket I remembered so well from our first night together. Instead of his usual easy smile, he had a serious look on his face.

“I’m Riley Beaumont. Charlotte’s, uh . . .”

“My ex-boyfriend,” I finished for him. I grabbed my purse and stepped out the door. “Riley, I appreciate the gesture, but I have plans.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding defeated.

“Let’s go,” I said to Bennett.

I took his hand and tugged. He followed me, and I heard James say, “Dude, I like Chinese. Wanna watch
Teen Titans
with me?”

“Did he just drop by unannounced?” Bennett asked as we stopped next to his Jeep.

“Yes. We broke up . . . well, the night you and I . . .”

He smiled and opened the door to the Jeep. When I got in, I noticed his leather smell. A package of breath mints sat in the cup holder and a John Mayer song was playing.

“You look nice,” he said as he got in and closed his door.

“Thanks.”

“It’s good to see you,” he said, his gaze lingering on my face. “Is pizza okay for dinner?”

“I love pizza.”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Liam’s gonna be at a sports bar tonight, so no worries we’ll run into him.”

I sighed softly. “My mom told him I’m pregnant. He tried to call me earlier but I missed him. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“What’re you gonna tell him?” Bennett asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“Just that I’m pregnant and I don’t want to discuss anything more than that about it with him.”

“He’s gonna be pissed. Not that you’re pregnant, but that you won’t tell him who the father is.” Bennett had a crease of worry between his brows.

“I can handle my brother, don’t worry about me.”

“If you decide you’re ready to tell him, let me know.”

I smiled at him. “So you can request a trade to another team right before?”

“Nah. I know it’ll be a shitstorm, but Liam and I have fought before. I’ll survive. I get that you can’t keep this from your brother forever.”

Bennett had a sexy coating of stubble on his cheeks. I eyed him and wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers over his cheek.

“Where are you from?” I asked him.

“Orland Park. It’s a suburb of Chicago.”

“What about your family?”

“I’ve got two sisters and a brother. I’m the next to oldest. My mom’s a pediatrician and my dad’s a history professor.”

We’d arrived at the restaurant and he’d just parked the car.

“What will they think about . . . you know, you having a kid?”

He grinned. “They’ll be thrilled. No grandkids yet.”