Chapter 27 Kamirah
twenty-seven
Kamirah
The night before the pre-season opener
We’d returned to the States from Vancouver two weeks ago. Once Locke’s filming had wrapped, we’d spent a few days checking out Vancouver Island, then we’d hired a car and driven the scenic route back to LA.
So much had happened since we’d arrived back in town.
Our rental was being put on the market, and Locke had a few months off, then a cameo role in a movie being filmed just over the border in Mexico.
We took them as signs we were supposed to move in together.
We weren’t sure yet where we’d end up—somewhere private that was close enough for Chris to get to training and home games easily enough and Locke to the beach—but the specifics didn’t matter.
For tonight, we were at Coach’s house on the ridgeline overlooking the city.
It was a perfect late summer evening, the clear sky darkening as peach and gold turned into purples and blues.
The tiki torches along the glass railing framed the dying embers of the sun.
I loved this place. The sprawling mansion was as sophisticated as it was homey.
Players and staff milled around, catching up after their well-earned breaks, some of whom had their families in tow, and others friends or their spouses.
Coach was manning the smoker with Jacques and Travis, and Rusty sat with Carina, Cara, Locke, and me, catching up after our summer in Canada.
We were spread out on picnic blankets, Charlie on her tummy in our midst. I leaned back against Locke’s chest and watched Chris bend over to pass out drinks.
I checked out his butt, shamelessly ogling my husband, and Locke chuckled under his breath.
“So glad I’m not the only one who wants to bite that damn arse,” he murmured against my ear.
Monroe chuckled as he poured Cara and Carina glasses of wine.
“I’d tell you to get your minds out of the gutter, but I don’t want to.
” He gestured to Hux, who was busy digging around in the same cooler as Chris was, searching for a beer for Monroe, his own butt on display. “Hockey butts—there’s nothing better.”
“Oh my God,” Carina exclaimed, and all as one we looked in her direction. She was staring at Charlie.
The baby girl had her frog teething ring in her mouth, chin covered in slobber, and she was on her hands and knees. She reached for Rusty, who was leaning forward, his hands held out to her. Then she shuffled forward when he shifted back, staying an inch out of her reach.
“She’s crawling.” Happy tears filled Carina’s eyes, and she called out, “Jacques, Trav,” in a wobbly voice.
Hux waved them over, and they came running. Cara already had her cell phone out, videoing her little sister, and Monroe was grinning happily. He loved that little girl as much as Cara did—as much as we all did.
“She’s so freaking adorable, isn’t she?” I murmured, in awe of how much she’d grown while we were away. Her dark hair was already a few inches long, and her chubby face and toothy grin were so cheeky that she had every one of us wrapped around her little finger.
“That’s it, Peanut. Go to Dad,” Jacques encouraged as he kneeled behind Rusty. “You can do it.”
When she finally crawled into Rusty’s lap, he lifted her up above his head and cheered before he squeezed her tight and peppered her face with kisses.
“You’re going to be such a little terror, aren’t you, Peanut?
There’s no stopping you.” He laughed, and Carina leaned in close, kissing her baby’s head.
“It’s okay, Zeus will keep you out of trouble, won’t he?” Carina cooed.
“Hey, everyone,” Keeley said as she greeted us. “Mind if I join in with your group?” She had a baby a few months older than Charlie on her hip. I hadn’t known she’d been pregnant, but Chris looked as surprised as I was.
“Keeley, you remember Locke,” I said.
“I do. Hi.” She smiled at him and dropped her diaper bag, set down the baby, who was dressed in a Stitch onesie, and held out her hand to shake.
Locke took it and asked, “Who is this little cutie?”
Keeley sat cross-legged next to us and grasped the baby’s hands.
“This is my foster daughter, Hannah.” She lifted Hannah’s hands up, and the little girl kicked out her legs with a big smile.
“We’re still finding our feet aren’t we, baby girl?
But Momma loves you.” She turned to us and explained, “Her mom was a single mom, no dad or other family in the picture. She was killed in a car accident after she’d dropped Hannah off at daycare.
My ex and I had our names down to become foster parents.
I got the call about Hannah and said yes immediately. ”
“Your ex? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that you’d split.”
She huffed out a laugh that held no humor.
“We hadn’t up until a few months ago—the day before Chris came out in fact.
I went home to tell him that we had a baby, and he chose that night to tell me he’d been sleeping with his junior agent for eighteen months and they were having a baby together.
” She turned back to Hannah and held her hands.
The baby girl stood up and bounced on her legs doing cute little squats, flashing Keeley a toothy grin.
“If you ask me, I got the better end of the bargain, didn’t I sweet girl? ”
“Miller’s here.” Chris nudged Hux, and the other man nodded.
“Gauthier, wanna come say hi?”
The three of them stood up and made their way over to Brayden Miller, the team’s newest transfer.
He was a third-year recruit born and bred in Texas who’d blown off a football scholarship to try out for ice hockey in high school, and then he’d gone on to secure a full scholarship for college and took the team to a Frozen Four championship.
He’d been recruited by the Bruins and killed his first two seasons.
The man was big, blond, and looked like an adorable Labrador puppy, his wide smile lighting up his face. The man standing next to him had some serious black cat energy happening.
Jacques led him over to our group, and I noticed the rainbow nail polish on Miller’s fingers. “Everyone, this is Brayden Miller, our newest recruit, and Spencer Clay, his husband.”
Carina’s eyes widened, and she gaped. “Spencer Clay? Oh my goodness!” She flushed and giggled, then met Cara’s gaze. Her daughter was wide-eyed and staring.
Spencer looked between the two of them and nodded politely, that aloof, unapproachable energy radiating from him.
“Am I supposed to know who Spencer Clay is?” Locke asked me in a whisper.
“I’ll share his playlist with you. Carina’s been sending me his songs all summer.”
He sounded like Benson Boone and looked and moved like Yungblud. He was slim but ripped and always wore head-to-toe black with his trademark scowl. Jacques introduced us all, and as soon as he got to Keeley, both Brayden and Spencer stood a little straighter.
“This is Keeley Fisher, our PR Manager, and her daughter, Hannah.”
“This team suddenly got a whole lot more interesting,” Brayden drawled in an unmistakably Texan accent. “You’re as pretty as a Texas rose.”
“No,” Keeley said, her no-nonsense tone cutting. “You’re here to play, Miller, not flirt with the staff.”
“Harsh,” Locke whispered, and I bit my lip and looked wide-eyed at Carina. She side-eyed Cara, who was grinning.
“Come on, we’ll introduce you to the rest of the team,” Chris said, clearly reading the room.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Cara whisper-squealed.
Keeley raised an eyebrow at her, and Cara continued with a happy sigh, “No nonsense professional woman who’s a single mom and whose heart was broken is swept off her feet by the cinnamon bun and black cat heroes.
And seriously, look at that butt.” She held her hand out, gesturing to the men walking away. “Hockey butt for the win, am I right?”
Monroe held out a hand to her, and they high-fived, but Keeley didn’t look impressed. “He was asked to leave Boston because the coach walked in on him and his husband having a threesome in a storage closet. With the team owner’s daughter.”
“Was she legal?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, she was our age,” Keeley responded with a wave of her hand. “But still, the owner’s daughter? In a storage closet?”
“Well, now you know he’d be up for it, Keeley,” Cara teased. “You know what they say about getting back on the horse.”
“Never going to happen. I have Hannah now.”
“Having a kid doesn’t mean you have to swear off sex,” Carina pointed out. “We still have plenty.”
“Muuum,” Cara groaned playfully. “You’re supposed to warn me about that. Innocent ears, remember. I don’t want to hear about you and your guys’ sexy times.”
“So innocent.” Carina rolled her eyes and grinned. “I’ll just ask your men how innocent you are, shall I?”
Cara’s cheeks turned scarlet, and Monroe chuckled. “C’mere, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” Cara danced around the group and sat between Monroe’s legs.
Her gentle silver fox wrapped her in his arms and nuzzled her nape before pressing a line of kisses up her throat to her ear. She hummed, and I heard him whisper teasingly, “Not so innocent.”
***
Dinner was finished, and the night had officially moved on to drinks and s’mores around the firepits.
I was leaning against the glass railing on the deck, my back to the spectacular view behind me.
San Diego’s lights stretched out below us, curving around the bay, and beyond that, the dark waters of the Pacific.
Instead, I was looking at our family—the ones we’d found and who’d proven to be there for us through thick and thin even though we’d never asked it of them.