Chapter 13
thirteen
. . .
Amelia
I’m the last to sit down, so of course, the only empty seat is beside McKittrick.
Jason.
If he’s thrown by our coworkers being here, he doesn’t show it.
“Wow,” he mutters. “He really went all out.”
The table is filled with bagels and a relish tray, plus a platter of deviled eggs, a winter vegetable salad, tuna salad, and a frittata. And that doesn’t include the pitcher of Bloody Marys and another jug of orange juice for mimosas.
“We used to do this all the time in Austin,” Tyler says. “Brando’s teammates aren’t into brunch, they prefer steakhouses. And while I can cook a mean Tomahawk, it’s not my favorite.”
“Well, I’m glad you invited us,” Vanessa says. “I love those meals you drop off. You’re supremely talented.”
He grins. “I’ll get the entire roster soon enough.”
“If you need help with the logistics of it all, let me know. That’s my department.”
“You got it.”
I knew connecting Ty with the hockey team was a good move.
He only works part-time right now, easing back into the swing of things after his paternity leave.
But he could easily leave everything to his chefs and just handle the business side of things.
Then again, he started the business because he missed cooking, so who’s to say he can’t find someone to run the numbers while he does the chef-y work?
I’ve only been with the team for two months, but already, Vanessa, Patrice, Joaquin, Robby, and I are forming a tight little group.
We sit together on the plane, we go for meals together, and most of our free time is spent together.
When you travel as much as we do, it’s nice to have a core group of friends amongst the coworkers. I didn’t really have that in Colorado.
To my surprise, it isn’t weird having two players with us. Maybe because one of them is Sven, who doesn’t talk much on a good day, and McKittrick is the middleman between the staff and players.
The man drinks his coffee in the hot pink mug, seemingly content to sit there amongst the hubbub of the group. Joaquin and Tyler get along fabulously, just like I hoped they would, and Patrice and Brandon are talking about the signings the Bulldogs made in the off-season.
Robby’s eyes are misty, and I give him a little kick under the table.
“You okay?” I mouth.
He nods, swallowing thickly. “I’m just so happy.”
“Why wouldn’t you be happy?” Patrice asks.
“When I came out… I knew it wouldn’t be great, but I wasn’t prepared for how rough it really got,” Robby says. “I’m not perfect, not in the slightest, and two of the people I hurt the most are sitting here at this table, like nothing is wrong, and I just—I’m so fucking happy.”
“Oh, Rob,” Tyler sighs. “That’s water under the bridge.”
“We’re good now,” Vanessa adds. “Really.”
Robby shakes his head. “I’m so fucking grateful we got to this point. And that we can hang out and it’s not weird.”
“It’s a little weird,” Joaquin cuts in.
Robby flips him off. “I’m finally living the life I wanted to live. My authentic truth. And as much as I regret that it took so long to get here, now that I’m here, I don’t want to give it up.”
“And you don’t have to,” Brandon says firmly. “We’re here to support you. All of us are.”
“Yeah, man,” McKittrick adds in. “This team is a family. We’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what.”
My eyes well up with tears at their unconditional acceptance. It’s what he should have gotten when he told his parents; it’s what Brandon should have had with his family; it’s what Ty should have received from our dad.
Family is more than flesh and blood; it’s the people we choose to keep in our lives, the people who lift us up rather than drag us down.
The baby monitor squeals as Ainsley squawks in the other room.
“I’ve got her,” I tell my brothers when they both start to rise. “It’s my turn.”
“Thanks, Meels,” Ty says, and then shoves a giant piece of bagel into his mouth.
Slipping from the table, I head to the nursery, the baby’s cries increasing in volume as she wakes up. I lift her from the crib, her entire body scrunched, and snuggle her, inhaling her fresh scent for a second before she gets angry.
After a quick diaper change, I pad down the hallway to the main room, the now-quiet baby content in my arms.
“How’s my perfect girl?” Ty asks from the kitchen, where he’s preparing a bottle.
“I’m well, thank you,” I retort.
To my surprise, Sven laughs. It’s the most emotion he’s shown today.
“Don’t be a smart ass,” my brother teases, handing me the bottle. “Want me to handle it?”
“I’ve got it. We need some girl time.”
Settling back at the table, I adjust Ainsley into a better position, and then slip the bottle between her puckering lips.
McKittrick’s stare is like a brand. My skin prickles with goosebumps at the intensity of his gaze. His body radiates heat, warmth rolling off him in waves.
I don’t want kids of my own, but I can’t deny it’s intimate when his eyes are on me while I feed the baby I birthed.
Even though Ainsley isn’t my child, even though there’s nothing between me and McKittrick…
I still feel it. It’s palpable, the air so thick with tension I can hardly breathe for fear it will crush me.
“She’s beautiful,” Patrice says, drawing my attention away from the man beside me. “You did a good job.”
“It’s all Brando’s genes,” I deflect.
“Still. You did the hard work,” my brother-in-law says. “Now give me my baby.”
He approaches and I slide her into his arms, sending the bottle with him. Bringing her close, he snuggles her and kisses her forehead. She doesn’t like the interruption from her meal, making a mewl of protest before he situates the bottle again and she settles back in.
Joaquin, Robby, and Patrice coo over the baby, but McKittrick’s attention is on me. His eyes are hazy as he stares at me, clearly lost in thought.
I wonder what he’s thinking about. I don’t think he had kids with his ex-wife. Is he wishing he did?
“You’re good with her,” Vanessa says, almost wistfully. “How did you learn?”
“Trial and error.” Laughing, I add, “and error, and error, and error.”
Sven slides his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him. “I hope I’m as good with our baby,” she says, and her fiancé kisses her temple.
Beside me, McKittrick freezes. “You’re having a baby?” he repeats slowly, his eyes wide.
Sven nods. “Due in March.”
And then the hockey captain grins, his entire body relaxing. “Congratulations, Van, Larsson. You’ll be excellent parents.”
Larsson nods. “We have much to learn.” He looks terrified.
“It gets easier,” Brandon tells him. “Certain things get more difficult, but learning as you go is part of the job.”
“I like to know. I like to study.” The Swede shakes his head. “I do not like to go with the flow.”
Vanessa laughs. “We know, babe.” She pats his leg. “But we have some time before we need to worry about that. At least five more months.”
McKittrick runs his hand through his hair, the chocolate brown strands lifting to show the grey sprinkled in beneath them. “A baby. You know the team is will flip.”
A few of the players already have kids, but none of them are in relationships with staff members.
“We’re not making a big announcement,” Vanessa says. “I’ve told Jacky and Coach, plus these guys. Everyone who needs to know does.”
“Thank you for including me in that.” McKittrick’s hand is on his chest, and his eyes are misty. “I appreciate you telling me.”
“You’re our captain,” Larsson says, as if that’s all there is to it.
And maybe for him, that’s all it is.
I’m the first to admit I don’t know McKittrick well. Our first few interactions didn’t lend themselves to a positive working relationship. And then when he got wasted…
He’s a complicated man, going through a tumultuous time in his life. The ending of his marriage, the sunset of his career… Either one would be a lot to deal with, and to do it simultaneously, he must be stronger than anyone knows.
I wonder if he ever lets himself fall apart. Who picks up the pieces? Does he hold it all inside, or does he confide in anyone?
For some reason, I have this insane urge to be there for him. To support him. To give him a shoulder to lean on. Even the strongest people need a break sometimes. An outlet for all the chaos simmering beneath the surface.
Maybe my shows muddy the waters. All I know is that he hasn’t looked away, not once. He’s just as hungry for them as I am.
He needs them as much as me.