“You ready for this?” Josh asked as we walked along the sidewalk to his head coach’s house. His sports car was parked on the street of the upscale neighborhood. In his arms was the container of baby quiches he and I had made last night.

In case you’re wondering…ever since last Sunday when I spent the night at his place, he had made sleeping over at my apartment his new regular thing.

With the exception of last night—when I spent the night at his apartment.

What did I learn this week?

I loved spending the night with Josh. I loved falling asleep with him singing to Noah and waking up with his hand on my belly…and his morning wood pressed against my back.

I could spend the rest of my life sleeping with Josh and I would die a happy woman.

“I might be a little nervous,” I said, trying to decide if the sensation in my belly was butterflies or Noah kicking, “but I’m looking forward to meeting your teammates.”

Was I nervous about meeting a group of men who liked to slam their bodies into their opponents while on ice? No—although that was kind of intimidating too.

I wasn’t Josh’s girlfriend or wife…yet I was having his baby. That was what was responsible for the butterflies playing Twister in my stomach.

But even though we hadn’t given this thing between us a label, everything in the past week had shifted. There was now a perceptible change between us—the intimacy, the way we were around each other. It didn’t feel like we were just friends.

It felt like something more.

Something incredible.

Something I didn’t wish to end.

A sign on the door invited us to join the party out back. I was wearing a short-sleeved, black-knit maternity dress that skimmed my growing curves. The stilettos? They were locked away in my closet…for now.

I’d long since realized that stilettos and being pregnant didn’t work well, at least not for me. Now, at twenty weeks, I was wearing black thigh-high suede boots.

What did Josh think of them? If the way he reacted when he saw them earlier was any indication, he was fantasizing about me wearing them while we had sex—the boots being the only thing I was wearing while he thrust inside me.

At the thought of screwing around with Josh, my horny hormones predictably perked up—ever ready to party.

I mentally rolled my eyes and did my best to corral the little buggers.

At the far end of the backyard, a dozen or so kids were running around and playing. Kari was with a tall blonde woman, watching the twins chase a ball around the lawn. She glanced in our direction and waved.

I waved back.

“Holly,” Josh said, bringing my attention to the man in front of him. He was in his late forties, wearing a “BBQ Boss” apron and holding a spatula. “This is Coach Fusco. Coach, this is my girlfriend, Holly.”

I slid a glance at Josh and my nervousness faded. The glow in his eyes wasn’t warning me that he had said it for the coach’s benefit. He really did see me as his girlfriend.

“You can call me Mike,” the coach said. “And I see congratulations are in order. When’s the baby due?”

Josh told him the date and Mike didn’t so much as flinch—although it wasn’t hard to know what he was thinking: “Good luck with that!”

A woman with blonde, chin-length hair approached us. “Sweetheart,” she said, “the burgers are ready for the grill.” She then smiled at us. “Hi y’all. I’m Molly, Mike’s wife. It’s so nice to meet ya.” Her gaze dropped to my belly—like the magnet that it was. “So when are y’all due?”

“February twenty-third,” I told her.

She didn’t do as good a job of keeping what she was thinking off her face. “That’s always a tough time of year. My advice is to make sure y’all have other people to help in case you go into labor while Josh is away.”

Except I didn’t have anyone who I could ask.

I didn’t have a sister.

My brothers? Not on your life—and they would no doubt agree with me there.

Mum? Yeah, that would go down well. Noah might hear her telling me that I’d ruined my life by making the same mistake she had, and change his mind about being born.

Erin had given birth to her baby girl a few weeks ago, so she was definitely out.

That left Kelsey.

I made a mental note to ask her and prayed to the pregnancy gods that she would say yes. Then I prayed even harder that Josh wasn’t away when I went into labor.

I would even throw in a sacrificial chocolate Easter bunny—the extra-large kind—if it would help.

Josh did the rounds and introduced me to everyone. Unlike with the puck bunny from a few months ago, none of the women were disappointed to see me with Josh.

“How’s it going?” Kari asked after Josh had introduced me to his teammates. Tomas was snoozing in her arms. It was hard to believe he was the same non-stop toddler from last weekend.

“Good. Just don’t quiz me on everyone’s names.”

She laughed. “I know what you mean. It took me forever to get everyone straight. It doesn’t help that it’s always changing. Just as you get the girlfriend’s name right, she’s history. Or you finally remember the wife’s name and her husband gets traded.”

Did her girlfriend comment hurt? There was a good possibility, but I did my best to keep the pain at bay. It wasn’t like NHL players held the monopoly on breaking up with girlfriends. Just because a guy referred to a girl as his girlfriend, it didn’t mean they’d ride off into the sunset and have a happily ever after.

And just because she became pregnant with his child, it didn’t mean they’d take the same carriage ride into the sunset either.

Two other women joined us: Bridget and Becca. And no, they didn’t look anything alike. All three were slim and could easily be models, but that was where the similarity ended. Kari was tall and blonde like a gorgeous Scandinavian goddess. Except I didn’t think most Scandinavian goddesses chased around two rambunctious two-year-old boys.

Bridget could’ve easily been my (slightly) younger sister. Only her red hair was practically down to her waist. Think Disney’s version of The Little Mermaid…minus the tail.

Then there was Becca. With her black hair and fair skin, she was a shoo-in if Hollywood ever made a remake of Snow White (okay, make that a remake of two remakes of Snow White). She was also the shortest and curviest of the trio and was rocking an adorable, sleeping six-month-old boy in her arms.

“Kari told us Josh is now a member of HDF,” Bridget said, giving me a pitying smile.

Becca snickered. “I still can’t believe they went with Hockey Dads Forever. I was only joking when I suggested it.”

“Why? Is it bad that he joined?” I asked. So far, it didn’t seem too awful, other than the initiation test he’d had to do. Correction. We’d had to do.

The three women cracked up. Was I the only one who didn’t find that very reassuring?

“If your boyfriend’s hoping to learn how to be a father, he’s hanging out with the wrong group,” Becca said.

“But they do try,” Kari piped in. “So we have to give them credit for that.”

The two other women nodded, fighting grins.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Bridget said. “At least they’re making an effort. It’s not easy for them when they’re away a lot. They miss so much when it comes to the developmental milestones of their kids.”

“That’s why you have to do everything you can to make sure Josh doesn’t miss too much while he’s away,” Becca said. “You’ll get used to Skyping daily, plus videotaping your child practically all the time, just so you can share the videos with Josh.”

“And definitely do that,” Kari added. “There are a lot of temptations on the road. Some players are great at ignoring them, remembering what’s waiting for them at home.”

“But other players aren’t so good at walking past the puck bunnies,” Bridget said. The three women turned to look at her husband, Josh, and another player. Henrik Karlsson, if I remembered correctly.

“His wife—or rather ex-wife—discovered a selfie a bunny had taken with him and then posted on the internet. Both he and the bunny were obviously naked in bed at the time. It had gone viral, so there was no missing it.”

That did sound familiar.

Was I nervous after everything they had told me? Not really. I trusted Josh. As long as I was his girlfriend, he wouldn’t stray. I could thank his father for that.

“Hey, Josh,” Becca said a little too brightly, looking over my shoulder.

I spun around. Josh, Jyri, Mark, and Sean, along with their teammate Travis Hamilton, approached us with beer bottles in hand.

Mark swooped down and kissed the forehead of his sleeping son.

Sean was carrying his giggling one-year-old daughter. He kissed Bridget’s cheek, then asked her, “You four keeping out of trouble?”

“We could say the same to you,” she said, grinning up at her husband as Josh pulled me back against him, his hand possessively on my belly.

I looked over my shoulder and was awarded with a tender kiss that melted every part of me. Chocolate left in the sun had nothing on me.

I was vaguely aware of Travis grunting a God-you-guys-are-so-pussy-whipped groan. Laughing to myself, I pulled away from Josh, winked at his teammate, and turned my attention to Sierra, Bridget’s daughter.

“Who’s that?” I asked her, pointing at the large yellow toy fish in her arms.

Sierra grinned, revealing a few baby teeth.

“Is this Flounder?” Sean asked her, and she giggled again.

“Why did you call it Flounder?” Josh asked. Maybe it was just my hormones, but was I the only person who thought he looked adorable when confused?

Okay, definitely my hormones.

Sean’s eyes widened. “How can you not know who Flounder is? And you’re going to be a father?” He sounded indignantly wounded but the mischief in his eyes said otherwise.

Josh glanced at me for help. Hell if I knew who Flounder was—but I was hardly admitting that. They’d probably burn me at the stake for committing such a parenting faux pas.

“Men, it looks like we’ll have to stage an intervention,” Sean said to his sidekicks. The smirk? Yeah, I’d be worried about it too.

“What kind of intervention?” Josh asked, looking between the guys.

“The Disney princess kind.”

“But…we’re having a son.” Josh gently rubbed my belly, as if looking for further confirmation that Noah was indeed a boy. “Why would I have to know anything about Disney princesses?”

Travis cracked up.

Jyri waved it off. “That’s irrelevant. It’s essential you know who they all are. Like for example, who is the mermaid in The Little Mermaid?”

“You mean the hot one?” Josh glanced at me and I shrugged. The character’s name was sitting on the tip of my tongue—or not.

“I guess if you’re into animated characters,” Mark replied, “yes, the hot one. Her name is Ariel. Does that ring a bell?”

Josh shrugged and I sympathetically patted his hand on my stomach.

“Again, you seriously expect me to care about the Disney princesses when I’m having a son?” Josh asked, the corner of his mouth curled up in a What-the-fuck-happened-to-your-balls? smirk. Pretty much the same one as Travis’s.

Sean turned to the two other men. “Quick, name the princess who lives with seven short men.”

“Christ, even I know that one,” Josh said. “Snow White.”

Judging from Travis’s expression, this was news to him.

“Okay…name the princess who falls in love with the Beast, who incidentally looks a lot better than in his true prince form in the animated version of the movie.”

Bridget, Kari, and Becca nodded in agreement. Josh rolled his eyes.

“That’s easy,” Mark said. “Belle.”

“Correct.” Sean threw Josh a look that said, “Even Mark—who has a son—knows the answer.”

Josh rolled his eyes again, and Travis burst out laughing once more.

Ignoring them, Sean said, “Next question. Name the two sisters who lived in the Scandinavian-like kingdom?”

“Princess Anna and Queen Elsa,” Jyri said, close to jumping on the spot like a kid who had to go to the loo, badly.

Sean beamed at him as if Jyri was his prized student. “Correct. And name Elsa’s magic powers.”

“She can turn things to ice with her hands.”

I snickered at Josh’s expression. The one that said he wanted to turn Sean to ice.

“And for the final question of the night, what is Sleeping Beauty’s real name?” Sean asked.

“Aurora,” both Mark and Jyri called out at the same time—a little too enthusiastically, waking Mark’s sleeping prince.

The baby stirred at first, then let out a pissed-off cry. He didn’t have a chance to protest for too long. Mark swept his son from Becca’s arms and cooed to the infant, settling him down.

Like magic.

“Wow, you’re good,” Josh said to his teammate.

Mark puffed out his chest. Becca snorted a laugh.

“What?” he said to her. “I am good.”

She went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Of course you’re good, dear. No one would ever suggest otherwise.”

I smiled at the teasing between the men and their wives, and the men and their teammates. They were like a family. The family Josh never really had.

The family I did have—for the most part.

When I was eight, we had this one nanny who smelled like an old sweater a group of hungry moths had turned into a tasty meal. And discipline? She made a grumpy old schoolmaster from the 1800s—complete with a wooden cane—seem pleasant.

One day, Chris and I had gone down to our favorite pond to catch frogs, even though this was strictly forbidden since proper young ladies didn’t catch frogs.

Unfortunately for me, while trying to catch a particularly stubborn frog, I slipped on a rock, fell into the water, and sliced my leg open on a broken glass bottle. The good news? My parents were away for a few days. The bad news? Well, I think you can guess what it was.

Long story short…Chris and I deliberated for the next five minutes whether I should just bleed to death or tell Miss When I Was A Young Lady what had happened. It was a tight vote—and if Simon hadn’t shown up and told me I would die a long and agonizingly painful death, I would have won. But because I sucked it up in the end and was taken to the doctor for stitches, I barely had a scar to show for it.

I checked the time on my phone and did the quick math. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to make a call.” I turned around in Josh’s arms and gave him a brief kiss. “I won’t be long.”

“You sure?”

That smile on my face? Directed entirely at Josh. “Absolutely.”

I left him talking with his teammates and their wives and found a quiet spot in a nearby park. I sat on the empty bench and pulled up Mum’s number. Part of me hoped she would answer—the other part hoped she wouldn’t.

“Holly,” Mum said. “Are you okay?” She sounded genuinely concerned. That was what I got for not calling her as often as I should. Oops.

“I’m fine. Better than fine.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Quiz time—what’s the best way to tell your mother you’re pregnant when you aren’t married?

I didn’t know either, so I just blurted, “I’m pregnant.”

Wait for it.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Hmm. Maybe we were disconnected.

Five.

“Are you sure?” she finally said, in a tone that would send kittens scrambling in fear.

Not a single tear of joy was about to be shed from her eyes.

Shocked? Me neither.

Despite the immense disappointment in her tone, I smiled at my growing belly. “I’m twenty weeks now—so yes, I’m sure.”

“Twenty weeks?” There might have been some unladylike cursing too—something I’d never heard from her before.

That couldn’t be good.

“Is Jack the father?”

“Josh. Not Jack.”

“I take it that’s a yes?”

At least this time I didn’t have to lie to her—completely. There was still the matter of how I had told her he and I were engaged…and then we weren’t.

I know, this was what I got for lying in the beginning. If I had pulled up my big-girl panties, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

I would’ve just been the daughter who got knocked up while celebrating Nanna’s life.

Nanna would be so proud of me.

No, really. She’d always wanted a great-grandchild.

“Yes, it’s Josh’s baby. I wanted to tell you because…well…you’re going to be a grandmother—and I thought you might want to know.”

“Of course I want to know.” Marine drill sergeants sounded less harsh. “Does this mean the engagement is back on?”

Yeah…about that.

Let’s take a moment here to remember why I had lied to her to begin with. She had wanted me to marry Drew. Drew had been interested in me, but at that time I wasn’t pregnant.

Okay, I was—I just didn’t know it yet.

So if the math added up correctly, marrying me off to Drew was no longer on the table.

“It isn’t something we’ve discussed.” Heck, until tonight, I hadn’t realized Josh thought of me as his girlfriend.

But now wasn’t the time to mention that.

“Right now we’re seeing how things go. Getting used to the idea of being parents. Figuring this all out—the parenting thing, that is.” Figuring out how to balance our careers, our relationship, and our son.

“So you’re just going to be an unwed mother?” The way she said it, you’d have thought I had announced I was quitting my job, becoming a hippie, and starting a marijuana and pumpkin farm.

“I guess so. But given that the idea disgusts you, it looks like we have nothing more to say. Good-bye, Mum.” I ended the call.

Well, I guess that’s that.

Blinking back my darn hormonal tears, I spread my hand across my belly. “Don’t worry, Noah,” I said in the same sweet tone you used with young children, “I’ll find you someone even better to be your grandmother.”

Maybe I could rent one at Grannies-R-Us.

Too bad such a place didn’t exist.

But I bet there were a few elderly women who hung out at a senior center who would love to apply for the job.

Me to Chris: It’s now official. I’m a member of the black-sheep club. I told Mum about the baby.

Chris: Welcome to the group and an endless supply of chocolate milk and cookies.

I half sniffed, half laughed. Chris always knew how to make me laugh.

Me: Just what the OB ordered :)

Chris: Will you be okay?

I sniffed again. I think so.

A moment later my phone rang and I answered it.

No, it wasn’t my mother apologizing for being a bitch. It was Chris.

We talked for a while. But not about Noah or Josh or my new black-sheep status. Instead he told me about his last flying job and about the crazy old man he and his co-pilot had to rescue in the outback.

“I swear to God it’s true,” Chris said as I giggled. “We show up and the guy is dancing around bare-arse naked, claiming he’s getting in touch with mother earth and doesn’t need rescuing.”

I glanced up and spotted Josh striding toward me, his forehead a worried frown. “Josh is here now,” I told Chris. Josh had texted while I was talking to my brother and I’d told him where I was.

Did he know about what happened with my mum?

No—I didn’t wish to spoil his fun. I’d told him I needed to talk to Chris for a few minutes.

But one look at me and he realized something was wrong.

Chris and I ended our call as Josh sat next to me on the bench.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

I was about to reassure him that everything was okay—but my hormones decided they were bored.

So instead of smiling reassuringly at him…I burst into tears.

Have you ever attempted a conversation while sobbing?

It was darn near impossible. All I could do was nod while my words sounded like a foreign language no one else knew.

In the end, Josh enveloped me in his arms and let me cry on his shoulder.

Before I managed to flood the place, the sobbing eventually slowed to a hiccup, and I told Josh about the phone call with my mum.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away. “I didn’t mean to take you away from your teammates and then cry all over you.”

“Hey, that’s okay, Hot Stuff. And no matter what you might think, you’re not alone. You’ve got me and your brothers. And you’ve got Trent, Kelsey, and Erin. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you.”

I sniffed and nodded. “I know.”

Besides, my parents hadn’t been there for me for years. Why mess with tradition?

“You ready to go back to your apartment?” Josh asked.

“Definitely.”

Before I terrified some poor little kid—because red hair, makeup, and heavy crying equaled one scary looking clown.