4
That was another difference he could get used to. Janice didn’t cook for him unless she had to feed Kaira anyway, in which case Jordy still needed to heat up an extra meal from a service or gulp down a protein shake or find another way to consume more calories. Since Jordy was either cleaning up after him or paying someone else to do it, Rowan said the least he could do was make food fit Jordy’s nutrition requirements, even if that sometimes meant Jordy ate what everyone else ate and then an extra chicken breast.
“Do you think the CN Tower is paying the show for all this free advertising?” Rowan asked idly at another unnecessary panoramic shot of the Toronto skyline.
Jordy wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. I mean, no one goes there, do they? It’s kind of just a reminder. ‘Don’t forget the show is in Toronto.’ Which—”
“Is the most Toronto thing ever?” Rowan finished wryly.
Jordy coughed. “Are you allowed to say that? You live here.”
“So do you.”
“Yes, but I’m American . I’m allowed to make fun of Torontonians.”
Rowan gasped theatrically. “I’m telling the internet. Wait till your fanbase finds out. I bet they take you off that billboard.”
Jordy popped a piece of cheese into his mouth. “They can’t do that,” he said smugly. “It’s in my contract.”
Rowan cackled. “Shut up, it is not. You are not vain enough to put that in there.”
Even if he was, he wouldn’t have. He got enough attention already. But Rowan didn’t have to know that. “My agent did it,” he lied. “Sells more jerseys. Gotta get her cut.”
NHL players didn’t get a cut of the sale of jerseys with their names on them. Rowan didn’t have to know that either.
Rowan narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t call Jordy on the lie. Instead he nudged him in the side again and said, “I guess you have to pay for all this fancy cheese somehow.”
Jordy nodded seriously. “Yes. You’ve figured me out. It’s all about the cheese.”
“It’s good cheese,” Rowan agreed, managing to keep a straight face, but his eyes—brown, warm, and framed by ridiculously long lashes—danced.
Jordy grabbed his own bite, wondering why he suddenly couldn’t look away. “I always tell my agent, make sure you get those cheese bonuses.”
He might have kept looking—and then who knew what would’ve happened—but the ad break ended, and Jordy needed to pay attention if he wanted to continue his winning streak. He was highly suspicious of the sister-in-law, but he didn’t want to call it too early in case a better suspect presented themself.
“It’s totally the sister-in-law,” Rowan announced. Damn it.
“What makes you say that?”
“She’s totally being shady. She even did a classic ‘bad guy lying’ eye thing just now.”
“I think it’s the husband,” Jordy said, even though he didn’t. For obvious reasons, they couldn’t pick the same person.
Rowan scoffed. “The husband is a total red herring. Why else would Ersatz Canadian Catherine think badly of him so quickly? Obviously it’s because he’s a total douchebag, deserving of her contempt but not actually a murderer.”
“Oh, obviously,” Jordy agreed with a hint of sarcasm. He agreed with Rowan’s assessment, but honest support for their theories wasn’t any fun.
“Yes, obviously. Just you wait and see. In fact, I bet they’re going to figure out his innocence in this scene.”
They did. Two minutes later, the husband was cleared and the crime-fighting characters were looking for new suspects. Jordy was totally losing the bet tonight.
Still, somehow, as Rowan crowed in victory and delight, his body animated and his eyes sparkling, Jordy couldn’t muster up his usual disappointment over losing a game. Rowan’s glee and pride in victory were too uplifting.
Besides, considering the penalty for losing was more snacks and CSI with Rowan, Jordy couldn’t be mad about it.
LEAVING THE house without Kaira in the morning felt surprisingly weird. Rowan said goodbye to her and Jordy after breakfast and headed off to the library. So far he’d had a string of half days during which he either dropped her off somewhere or left her after lunch.
Work at the library was odd now too, not just because Rowan’s last day was approaching but because he wasn’t used to having secrets. Sure, he kept some things hidden, but for the most part, he liked to talk with colleagues. But that felt awkward and taboo right now. Sharing details about his life meant talking about a kid who wasn’t his and her famous dad. Rowan wasn’t na?ve—he knew people might want stories about Jordy and Kaira to feel closer to a professional athlete they thought they knew. So while he’d mentioned moving in with a friend of Gem’s who had given him a part-time nanny job and a place to live, Rowan was scant on the details, and Taylor didn’t know what to make of a Rowan who didn’t share stories about his off-day adventures.
Not that they’d have to navigate the changed dynamic much longer. He had a week left here, and though his boss tried, she’d gently but firmly told him she couldn’t make money appear for new staffing positions, no matter how much she wanted to keep him.
Sighing, Rowan finally unclipped his seat belt—the car was part perk of the new job, part necessity of the new home address—and got out of the car. Time to stop woolgathering.
He considered his dwindling days as he made bulletin-board signs for the autumn programming he wouldn’t be around to run.
One upshot to the change in employment status would be a freer schedule. Trying to work two jobs, one of which was very demanding, left little room for anything else, like job hunting. Rowan had let his research slow to a crawl the past few weeks, but he couldn’t keep putting it off, especially once Kaira started school. Rowan’s days would soon feel a lot emptier between nine and three if he didn’t find gainful employment to fill the hours.
Ugh, that made him sound like a bored housewife. He couldn’t decide which part of that was worse—thinking it, or the guilt he felt for thinking it. Rowan might’ve actually had a nice childhood if either of his parents had stayed at home. And he certainly didn’t think the stay-at-home parents he met were doing less than their share of the labor.
No, a quiet part of him said. He knew which part of it was worst. It was the wife part. Jordy wasn’t accepting applications for that job. And Rowan didn’t want to apply, no matter that his libido and his heart seemed to agree that a certain sweet, hot dad would make the perfect partner.
So basically, Rowan needed a new job so he could move out.
He might have slammed the stapler harder than necessary. His thoughts were getting stupid. Spending so much time around Jordy’s hotness was damaging his brain. Could lack of regular blood flow to the upper body cause permanent brain cell loss? Clearly, he needed a break from Jordy, which was why he should not go on a free trip to New York City. All the togetherness, the family vacation vibes, the hotel room, would only make Rowan’s crush worse. Because at this point, he was past mere attraction. It was a definite crush. Rowan didn’t just want Jordy to bang him like a screen door in a hurricane. He wanted to watch dumb TV and documentaries with him. He wanted to hang out with Jordy and Kaira. He wanted not only to drool over Jordy’s muscles but bask in his sunny smile as he heaved Kaira into the pool and listened to her shriek with laughter.
Playing happy-families vacation when he should be spending his time looking for a new job didn’t seem like the wisest choice.
This was why Rowan only dated losers. They didn’t make you want to reorganize your entire life—unless you counted giving up dating.
Of course, the giving-up-dating part of the experience was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Rowan’s life was significantly better without losers in it. On the other hand, at least if he were getting laid, he could stop panting after Jordy like a dog.
Probably.
“Wow, Rowan. What did that stapler ever do to you?”
Taylor’s voice was light, but a note of concern rang underneath it. Rowan didn’t generally brood. He was like a… duck, maybe. A happy little duck swimming around happily in the pond, unbothered by rain.
Maybe that was a bad metaphor, actually. Didn’t ducks get kind of broody? When they were, what was it called, egg-bound? That was a bird thing, right?
He viciously stapled a red maple leaf to the corner of the border. “Asked me why I went and got an MLS instead of becoming a plastic surgeon like my father wanted.”
Wincing, Taylor helped herself to a seat on the circulation desk. Rowan could’ve scowled at her, but the hard wood surface was actually more comfortable than the chair, and there weren’t any patrons around to see. “No luck on the job search?”
He huffed out a breath, lips flapping embarrassingly with the force of it, and reached for the poster advertising their fall sewing class, just in time for Halloween costume season. “Who has time to search?”
The sound of her heels clacking against the side of the desk ceased. After a moment of silence during which Rowan debated poster placement, Taylor said, “Is your employer guy taking advantage of you?”
He snorted. “If only.”
Then he realized she meant in the sense of working him too hard , and—okay, well, Rowan’s brain went to the bad place with that too. His whole face felt like it was on fire. “I mean—”
But Taylor was laughing. “No, please, go on. You’ve been very close-mouthed about the whole thing. And now it turns out there might be juicy details?”
He turned around long enough to glower. “There are no juicy details.” Unless you wanted to call Jordy’s thighs after a morning workout juicy. Which was a thought. Resolutely, he returned his focus to the bulletin board. “It’s just demanding is all.”
“I thought Daddy was supposed to be doing all the childcare when he’s home?”
“Oh my God, Taylor.”
“What?” she asked, her voice a perfect impression of innocence.
“He’s a very hands-on father—”
She cackled.
Rowan groaned and gave in to the urge to beat his head against the bulletin board. Maybe he should staple himself to it. Could he get worker’s compensation for that? The library couldn’t fire him if he couldn’t leave.
Finally he got the poster affixed and Taylor got her giggles under control.
“So he’s not taking advantage of you,” she clarified. “In either sense of the term. And he’s presumably doing his share of the housework as well as the child-rearing—”
“He’s doing all the child-rearing,” Rowan broke in. “I’m a babysitter, Tay.”
She waved this off as unimportant. “But you don’t have time to look for a job because… you’re spending all your time jerking off?”
Well, not all of it. He spent a great deal of time hanging out with Jordy with or without Kaira—watching TV, making dinner, splashing around in the pool while the warm weather lasted.
But he didn’t think telling Taylor as much would make this conversation any less painful. Anything he told her risked her trying to trick him into bringing Jordy around. Rowan put a staple into the bulletin board. It wasn’t holding anything else there; it was just punctuating his frustration. “Could you be slightly less perceptive?”
“Yes, but it would be boring.” She sobered. “Seriously, though. I know this situation sucks for you. I wish the city would get its head out of its ass and fund some more positions. It’s not like we don’t need the help.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, then looked toward the cart of unshelved returns.
“I’m on my break ,” she pointed out. “Someone reheated fish in the lunchroom microwave yesterday. I’m not staying in there.”
Someone really needed to get around to criminalizing that. “It’s just—this is dumb. It’s not like being a kids’ librarian was even my life’s ambition.” He didn’t bother validating the profession—Taylor knew he didn’t look down on it, but that wasn’t the same as believing it was the perfect fit for him. “But I like serving the community or whatever. I like books. I like talking about programming needs. I like my coworkers most of the time. I’m going to miss it here.” He paused as he hopped up on the desk beside her. “Well, and also I’m going to miss having a stable income and being able to afford my own place to live.”
Taylor leaned her bony shoulder into his. “You’ll find something. Once you get around to looking , you loser.”
“I know, I know. I think part of me’s still wallowing. And the other part of me is… distracted.”
“With your DILF.”
He didn’t bother protesting that if Jordy were just a DILF, he wouldn’t have a problem. “He invited me to go to New York with him and the kiddo. Some work thing. He says his mom can come if I don’t want to, but I feel like I should stick around here and look for jobs.”
Taylor hummed. “And also not fall hopelessly in love with your hot single dad boss?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Uh-huh. So let me point something out to you.” Taylor paused, because she was all about dramatic effect. It made her very popular with the kids. “You said you feel like you should stick around here. But you didn’t actually say you want to.”
Rowan’s shoulders slumped. “You’re supposed to be stopping me from making irrational life-ruining choices.”
“Maybe I am,” she said cheerfully. “Maybe what I’m doing is telling you to stop getting in the way of your own happiness. You want to go to New York? Go . But don’t spend the trip playing happy family with your boss. Be gay. See a musical. Have an ill-advised hookup in a public bathroom in the Village.” She nudged his shoulder again. “Maybe what you really need is a vacation, is what I’m saying. And here’s your chance at a paid one, right when you need it. Stop thinking so hard. It doesn’t suit you.”
He yelped out a laugh. “Wow, thanks. Oh gee, look at the time—I think your break’s over—”
She stood from the desk before he could shove her off, but she didn’t run away. Instead she gripped him by his shoulders. Her surprisingly strong bony fingers dug into his flesh. “We’ll miss you too,” she promised, uncharacteristically serious and fierce. “But Rowan? Nobody is dying. Come visit. Bring the sproglet. You know we’ll keep you in the loop if there are any openings, and we’re all happy to be references and help you look. You live in a big city. There’s tons of things a librarian can do here. You’ll find something.”
If Rowan felt a bit misty-eyed over her support, no one had to know.
They also didn’t have to know about Rowan’s watery eyes when he discovered the We’ll miss you, Rowan banner and cupcakes in the breakroom. They were pineapple upside-down, from his favorite bakery.
WITH TAYLOR’S advice in mind, later that night Rowan said yes to the trip, and a week later he found himself boarding a flight to NYC.
“What, no private jet?” Rowan joked as Jordy guided Kaira into the business-class section of the plane.
“I thought about it,” Jordy said dryly, “but when I asked to borrow it, the team said it was already booked to take the goalie golfing in Miami this weekend.”
“Not Scotland?”
“For one night? Of course not. That would be a ridiculous waste of resources.”
Rowan snickered as he settled into his seat across the aisle from Jordy and Kaira. It had been a while since he’d last flown anywhere in such luxury. When he left England for Canada, his parents had already cut the purse strings, so he’d saved his pennies and suffered the cramped seating of economy class.
Kaira was apparently also used to flying in style, because she settled happily into her seat and chattered away to Jordy about what she wanted to watch and eat and do on the plane.
“Remember, this flight isn’t as long as the ones we took when we flew to Curacao,” Jordy said gently. “You might not have time to watch a whole movie.”
Kaira agreed with him in a way that suggested she didn’t believe him but was willing to humor him. Jordy rolled his eyes at Rowan, plugged her into her tablet, and let her pick one of her predownloaded films.
God, they were cute.
Rowan tore his eyes away and looked at the drinks menu tucked next to his seat. He was taking advantage of the free vacation; he was not playing happy families. Which was why he should definitely order something alcoholic, because he wasn’t on duty.
The flight attendant stopped to check on Jordy and Kaira and promised to bring her juice and Jordy a water straightaway.
“And for your husband?” she asked, turning to Rowan.
Rowan blinked at her. It was an innocent enough mistake, and he didn’t want her to feel bad. But he couldn’t just claim that role in Jordy and Kaira’s lives.
“Rowan, did you want to get a drink?” Jordy tipped his head at the menu still in Rowan’s hand.
Right, so they were going to just ignore it, then. “I’ll have a white wine?” His uncertainty made his order sound like a question, and he blushed. The attendant didn’t notice, apparently, because she smiled, confirmed the order, and hurried away.
As Jordy warned, the flight wasn’t long—just under two hours—but it was plenty long enough for the flight attendant to make a half-dozen more comments about Rowan and Jordy’s fictitious marriage and their charming child. Not that Rowan could disagree on that point; Kaira definitely was as cute as a button.
When Rowan agreed to the trip and learned that he’d largely be off the clock, he had vague ideas about following Taylor’s instructions to find a gay bar or a musical. But somehow, once they got to the hotel room, leaving felt like too much effort.
Kaira said she was too tired to leave and wanted to eat while watching TV, and Jordy, apparently relieved enough to stay in, decided they should order room service and let her break the “no eating in front of the TV” rule.
When he turned to ask what Rowan wanted, Rowan gave up his vague plans for going elsewhere and asked for a burger and fries. He was on vacation. He could do what he wanted.
Somehow, watching Moana while having a picnic on their hotel-room floor turned out to be just what he wanted.
brINGING ROWAN to New York with them was a great idea. Traveling with Rowan was just as smooth as traveling with Janice, if not smoother. Rowan wasn’t fazed by the business-class seats or five-star hotel, nor did he question Kaira when she declared that it was time for a picnic and instructed him to put down a blanket for eating. He simply rolled with everything, as if the whole trip was routine.
Jordy could have called his mom to meet them in New York so she could take on Kaira duties in his absence, but as much as he loved his mom, she tended to vacillate between overly strict and too permissive, and Jordy always seemed to be the biggest loser. Kaira wasn’t allowed to go in the ball pit that was surely a danger to her, but she could have ice cream for dinner.
But he didn’t have to worry when Rowan had her. She would be safe, well-fed, and probably exhausted before dinnertime.
After a couple of audio interviews, Jordy was sent for a photoshoot. He never minded the silly in-uniform photos, but the model-like out-of-uniform poses always felt weird. They slapped makeup on him, styled his hair, and shoved him in front of a plain backdrop. Then he tried to hold still and look where he was told to and not to smile while the photographer moved around him, snapping photos and calling out directions.
Twenty minutes later, Hailey, the PA assigned to keep him on schedule, ushered him to another room for a taped interview and then finally guided him to the dining room for lunch with the players and their families. After a long morning playing dancing monkey, his shoulders loosened as he caught sight of Kaira sitting with Rowan. He barely remembered to thank Hailey before he hurried over to his baby.
Kaira and Rowan were laughing with the rest of the table, so neither of them noticed Jordy’s approach. He sat down in the empty chair next to Kaira and waited.
She did a perfect double-take, squealed, “Daddy!” and launched into his arms.
“Hi, peanut. Hey, careful of the table, please.” No one would be upset if she sent a few pieces of cutlery toward the floor with an errant elbow, but Jordy preferred not to make extra work for the waitstaff.
Kaira kneed him in the stomach as she turned around. “Sorry, Daddy. Did you have a good day?” She poked her finger into his hair. “You’re all crunchy. Did you get to play with makeup?”
“No, but I let someone else try some on me. What do you think?”
Kaira wriggled farther away—the better to judge the effect—and then said seriously, “You look very pretty.”
Someone across the table was snickering, but Jordy ignored it. “Thanks, peanut. That means a lot coming from you.” He smacked a kiss on her cheek and then deposited her in her own chair. “Did you and Rowan have a good morning?” He made eye contact with Rowan over her head.
Rowan gave a minute shake of his head. Jordy had already caught the faint whiff of chlorine from Kaira’s hair, which meant—
“We went swimming! With Miss Jenna and Gabby and Dan.”
Jordy lifted his head and met Jenna Yorkshire’s gaze. She waved. Next to her, her husband, Tom, paid Jordy zero attention; he had his head bent in intense conversation with Ryan Wright of the Vancouver Orcas, on his other side, and Dante Baltierra, who was across the table from them. “Of course you did.” Why would she want to do something she couldn’t do at home? How silly of him. He made an apologetic face at Rowan, but Rowan just shook his head fondly.
“I convinced her to go to the library after lunch.”
Oh.
Jordy felt his face freeze and tried to cover for it, but too late. Rowan had noticed, and so had Kaira.
“You should come!” Kaira said enthusiastically.
He shook his head. “Sorry, baby, I can’t. I have a meeting after lunch. You and Rowan have fun, though.” He’d been looking forward to taking her to the New York Public Library for the first time—she’d been too young to appreciate books much last year—but Rowan was an actual librarian. Jordy wouldn’t get in the way of that.
“We can do something else instead so you can come. Ryan mentioned a scavenger hunt thing?” He quirked his lips. “Unless you want in on that as well.”
Jordy was pretty sure the scavenger hunt was confined to things that could be found within a two-block radius of the hotel, but his daughter’s attention span knew no such boundaries, and he had no desire to rein her in as she tried to drag him all over the city. From the expression on Rowan’s face, he knew it too. “Pass. So, library tonight, then? After dinner?”
Or tomorrow morning. Kaira might need a nap this afternoon.
Hell, Rowan might need a nap this afternoon if it went the way Jordy suspected. They’d have to keep themselves open to rescheduling. “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, and then the food came out, and there wasn’t much time for talking. Jordy only had fifteen minutes to stuff his face before the union reps meeting started.
Mercifully, Nico Kirschbaum kept the meeting to the point in a way Jordy suspected only a German could. Maybe he had somewhere to be, because he kept looking at his watch every three minutes. Kirschbaum had to be the only twentysomething Jordy knew who wore a wristwatch for function and not as a fifty-thousand-dollar statement.
After the meeting ended, Jordy fell into step with him, curious despite himself. “Hey, Kersh, where’s the fire?”