“You are a complete and utter dork,” his sister Val said, laughing her head off as she filmed him with her phone.

Booth MacDonald was back home in Vancouver to attend Val’s twenty-ninth birthday party. At the moment, he was attempting to change his nephew’s poopy diaper. His six-year-old niece, Bella, was giggling too. Even though he was the butt of the joke—no pun intended—he didn’t mind. In fact, he was messing up on purpose. The family of four was going through a rough patch and could use some giggles and smiles. Val’s husband, Brent, had recently been laid off, so their financial situation wasn’t ideal, and Brent wouldn’t accept any monetary assistance. A proud man himself, Booth understood, however he was also sneaky, so one of his birthday presents to Val was a subscription to a family meal delivery service where all you had to do was heat them up.

“It’s two tablespoons of poop,” Val said. “You don’t need eighty baby wipes to clean it up.”

“You’re right,” he grumbled. “What I need is a gas mask. Also, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use food terms like ‘tablespoon’ when describing baby poop. I want to be able to enjoy my dinn—what the…?”

Baby Eli, in the middle of Booth changing his damned diaper, had let loose with a stream of urine that hit Booth right in the chest. No warning, of course. The kid just let it fly. Val laughed even harder while still managing to film the whole thing.

Giggling, Bella said, “Uncle Boo, you have to cover him up when you’re changing him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

“You’re a boy. I thought you knew.”

God, she was adorable. And so smart. She was already reading. Sometimes she even sent him letters. Honest to God letters that she wrote herself. He had them all on his refrigerator at home.

As he finished taping the diaper shut, he said, “You know what? That was logical thinking, Bella. Maybe I should have known.”

Of course, Val showed their mom and Brent the video as soon as she could and it was a big hit, even if Brent sent him a look of brotherly sympathy.

“This is going up on Facebook,” Val announced, tapping the screen of her phone madly.

“Of course it is,” Booth said with mock annoyance.

As the starting goalie for the San Diego Barracudas, he was used to being in the public eye. NHL fans ate up anything from a player’s personal life, especially video and, even though it was Val posting this, people would find and share it. Diehard fans not only monitored the profiles of the players themselves, but also people close to them. Wives and girlfriends were the usual quarry, but if a guy had a family member, like Val, who was active on social media, she’d be fair game as well. It was a fact of life that aspects of his life outside of hockey were out there for public consumption.

As Val debated what hashtags she should use, Booth asked, “Is there a shirt I can borrow?”

Val nodded, tapping away on her phone screen. “Sure. In a sec.”

“Don’t let the fact that I smell like a urinal get in the way of your Facebook update, sis.”

“Just give me two seconds,” Val said, with a tinge of old fashioned sibling irritation in her voice.

“I’ll help you out, bro,” Brent said.

“Thanks, buddy.”

“I have to put a load of laundry in anyway,” Brent said.

As they went back upstairs, Booth asked, “Anything new on the job market?”

They entered the master bedroom and Booth tried not to look at the bed where Bella and Eli had been conceived. Of course, he knew that sex was required for procreation, but for his own peace of mind, when it came to his nieces and nephews, it was best to just pretend the babies arrived by stork.

Brent shrugged as he pulled a Captain America T-shirt out of his dresser and handed it and some fresh baby wipes to Booth. “I’ve got feelers out there, resumes. I check the Internet every day. So far, nothing, but you never know what tomorrow’ll bring.”

For the umpteenth time, Booth resisted offering to help them out. Brent had made it very clear that he could and would provide for his own family. He was a good guy and Booth believed eventually something would shake loose and he’d find work. But, if push came to shove and they were in danger of being homeless or something drastic like that, Booth was perfectly willing to Zamboni right over his brother-in-law and start paying their mortgage whether Brent liked it or not. Better to swallow some pride than be out on the streets, to Booth’s way of thinking.

“Are you guys cool to come to the lake with me in August?” Booth stripped off the dirty shirt. “Where do you want this?”

Brent pointed to one of the baskets into which he was sorting the clothes. “Are you kidding? Of course we’re coming. We’re dying to see the place. Plus, you know how much Val and I love water skiing. I’m literally praying that if I get a new job, it won’t interfere with the trip. Val’s really looking forward to getting out of the city too.”

Shortly after Brent had gotten laid off, Booth bought a home on Okanagan Lake to use as a summer getaway. A lot of NHL players he knew called Kelowna, B.C. home during the offseason. He’d made sure the place had enough bedrooms to accommodate his family and friends. A boat dock was essential because shortly after closing escrow on the cottage, he bought a speed boat.

“Good. I mean, I bought the place with the intention that it be used, but I’m adding a condition.” At Brent’s raised eyebrow, Booth said, “I am not changing Eli’s diaper while we’re there.”

Brent laughed as they shook hands. “Ha! Deal.”

When they rejoined the women, they were exclaiming over something on Val’s phone.

“What’s going on?” Booth asked. “That video going viral?”

Val honked a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Boo,” she said, using her childhood nickname for him. “No, we’re looking at this blog Mom and I like. It’s mostly about fashion for larger women, of which I am one, thanks to Brent.”

“What? What did I do?” Brent asked.

“Got me pregnant.”

Brent laughed. “It takes two to tango, baby.”

Val rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Booth shuddered and said, “Let’s please not go there.”

“Anyway, that outfit would look amazing on you,” their mom, Caroline said. “Perfect for work. And you have those cute leopard shoes you could wear with it.”

Booth affected a shocked look as he turned to Bella. “They make shoes out of leopards? Isn’t that illegal?”

She giggled again and he loved the sound, which was why he played to her all the time.

“It’s not real leopard, Uncle Boo. It’s pretend.”

When he leaned over to get a glimpse of this amazing outfit, he experienced a moment of complete shock. Was that…was that Janie?

“Oh, hey, that is a great outfit. Can I see that a minute?” he asked, taking Val’s phone.

Was it her? Was that Jane Merrifield in that photo? He tried to enlarge the picture, but couldn’t. He double-tapped. He did that index-finger-and-thumb spreading gesture, but it didn’t work and the woman’s face was too small for him to be sure. Unfortunately, he was out of time five seconds ago. He was getting weird looks from Val and his mom, so he handed the phone back.

“That would look great on you, sis.”

Val gave him a suspicious look and he didn’t blame her, but she didn’t say anything, not until later, after dinner and cake and she was walking him out, something she didn’t usually do.

“So, did you recognize her?” Val asked. “I mean, that is Jane Merrifield from high school.”

Booth shrugged. There wasn’t any point in pretending. He’d been pretty clumsy about feigning interest in a spring ensemble suitable for leopard-print shoes. “Yeah.”

Val looked at him, waiting.

“She looks good,” he said. Which was an understatement. She looked fantastic, so feminine and beautiful with the kind of gorgeous curves that he loved. She seemed self-assured in a way she hadn’t been when he’d known her.

“I’ll say,” Val said. “It’s the reason her blog is so popular. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when I realized it was her. I’d thought she looked familiar, but back then she didn’t wear all the makeup she does now. She’s starting her own lingerie line.”

His eyebrows rose. “Really? Wow. That’s impressive. Good for her. It’s nice to know she’s successful.”

“All of it will be designed with plus-size women in mind, which I think is fantastic. She’s made it her mission to help women feel good about their bodies, even if they’re not built like fashion models.”

He leaned against his car and crossed his arms. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to sell me something?”

“I’m not,” Val said, glancing away. “But you should probably…I wanted to warn you…” Val stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets.

“Warn me about what?” he prompted.

“She talked about you on the blog.”

He stared at his sister as that sank in. “Wait, what? What did she say?”

He pulled out his phone, fumbled and ended up dropping it on the street. Cursing, he picked it up, thankful it seemed to have survived the fall. “What’s that blog called again?”

“Booth, calm down. She didn’t call you out by name, but she did talk openly about what happened with you guys.”

Unsettled, he typed Jane Merrifield into the search box. A list of possible hits appeared with Big Girl Panties on top of the list. That was it. He tapped the link and spent a few moments scrolling through the posts. “I don’t see anything about me,” he said, exasperated.

“Well, Mr. NHL, I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s not all about you. She doesn’t talk about you every week. You’ll probably have better luck using your laptop at home.”

He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “How about you just show me on your computer?” he asked.

She frowned. “No way. You’re going to throw a hissy fit and I don’t need to be part of that. Plus, I need to get some sleep. Eli’s still not letting me get a full eight hours. I’ll email you a link. How’s that?”

“Fine,” he said. “I’d appreciate that.” He unlocked his car. “But for the record, I don’t throw hissy fits.”

“Dude.” Val laughed. “Your hissy fits on the ice are on YouTube.”

Okay, every once in a while, he would break his stick on the crossbar after a hard-fought loss, the kind where he’d stood on his head for the team, blocking shots like Captain America and his Vibranium shield. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but there it was.

“That’s just me letting off steam.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Like I said, hissy fit.”

After a pause, he laughed, then went back to the sidewalk to give her a hug. “Happy birthday, sis. Love you.”

“Love you too, Boo.”

When he got back his hotel room, he opened his computer and searched for the Big Girl Panties website. Again, he was struck by how good Jane looked. He remembered her as a girl with more curves than was fashionable or desired, according to society’s norms. She had a dynamite smile, a contagious laugh, and an optimism he admired and envied. Here, on her blog she managed to look stunning, but humbly so. The photographs were all of her, but they didn’t scream, “Look at me! Don’t I look amazing?” Instead, they were just there, making a quiet yet arresting statement that didn’t make demands of the viewer.

He spent a long time scrolling through her posts for mentions of himself but not finding any. He texted Val and got this reply. Leave me alone. I’m sleep deprived, remember?

He glanced at the time. It was well past midnight. Shit. He’d had no idea it was so late. He’d spent more time on Janie’s website than he’d thought. He had a long drive ahead of him tomorrow to Okanagan Lake for a charity golf tournament.

He closed his computer, annoyed with himself for caring this much. Val said she hadn’t called him by name, so what was the big deal? What happened between him and Janie was ancient history.

* * *

A week later, he was back in San Diego and struggling against the urge to keep scouring Janie’s site to see what she’d said about him. He’d decided it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, but the temptation to take a little trip down memory lane was strong. He was intensely curious to see what she’d said about him and how much of an asshole she’d painted him to be. Granted, he had been an asshole, but had he been portrayed as just a straight-up, garden variety asshole, or the type who deserved to have his testicles served to him with a side of ketchup?

Today, he’d worked out in his home gym, showered and was now watching one of the morning shows as he ate breakfast. It was mostly fluff, but they sometimes interviewed celebrities and there was a summer flick opening soon that he was dying to see. Sure enough, one of the stars from the movie, a guy that really kicked ass on the screen, came on to promote the movie. He talked about doing his own stunts, something Booth really admired. A dude who didn’t let some other tougher guy do the hard stuff? That’s a guy who deserved some respect. Plus, he was a known hockey fan.

“Thanks for coming on the show, Tanner. Risk Factor opens this Friday. Next up, an unapologetic fashion guru with a new lingerie line targets a section of the demographic most designers ignore.”

Booth was wondering if they were talking about Janie just as a text arrived from Val. Turn on channel six!!!!!! They’re going to talk about Jane.

And just like that, his pulse kicked up.

He put his dirty dishes into the dishwasher while keeping an eye on the TV. If Janie was getting TV coverage, she really was making a success of herself and he was glad. He really was. He had loved her once upon a time and believed she deserved success and happiness.

The show came back on, and Booth turned up the volume.

“We’re so pleased to have Jane Merrifield here with us today. Jane is the woman behind Big Girl Panties, a popular fashion and lifestyle blog. Welcome, Jane.”

“Thank you. It’s great to be here.”

Janie looked professional but feminine in a long dress with flowers on it and some high heels that left a lot of her feet exposed. He remembered sitting on a dock with her the summer they were together. She’d had a dress on then too, but it was shorter. They’d dangled their legs over the side and idly swung their feet back and forth as they’d talked and gotten sunburned even though they were wearing hats. But he hadn’t minded. It gave him an excuse to put aloe vera all over her shoulders and neck the next day. Shit. He could still remember how that felt. He’d only been brave enough to hold her hand and kiss her at that point, so this was a step in the right direction. Her skin was so soft and smooth, and hot, of course, from the sunburn. But she’d sighed and said, “That feels so good,” and schwing, he’d gotten an insta-boner like guys tended to do when they were in their late teens. Sure, she’d meant it felt good in a non-sexual way—that aloe vera was cool and soothing—but his brain took those four words and sent a message to his dick: He’s touching her. She likes it. FULL STEAM AHEAD.

“So tell me about your new lingerie line,” the TV personality said. “You’re a blogger, not a clothing designer. How did that come about?”

“It’s still kind of surprising to me that it even happened at all. Every day I wake up and wonder how I got to this place in my life. I started the Big Girl Panties blog when I was a freshman in college. I’d been getting over a bad break-up. I’m talking really bad.”

Booth broke out in a cold sweat. She’d kept his identity a secret on the blog, but what if she outed him on TV? Fuck. The hockey community would eat it up and he’d never live it down, especially since it was the off-season and the fans were hungry for anything hockey related. When there were games going on, a story like this would get upstaged by something else pretty quickly, but during the summer, stuff like this was gold to the media.

“I have to admit, I wallowed in my misery for a while…” Janie was saying.

“I think we’ve all been there,” the newscaster said.

Janie nodded. “But I eventually realized that Eleanor Roosevelt was right. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. So I decided to start a blog. If you look at the earliest posts, they’re just ramblings about how I wasn’t going to let the jerk who hurt me win. Then I got this amazing pair of stretch jeans. I’m not going to lie. They looked so good on me.”

The newscaster laughed.

“I loved how they made me feel when I looked in the mirror, so I went on a mission to find more clothes that went with those jeans and that gave me that same confident feeling. When I did, I posted them to my blog, and that’s it. That’s how it all started.”

Booth’s shoulders sagged with relief. He was safe. Thank God.

“And now you’re going to have your own lingerie line, named after your blog, which is cleverly named Big Girl Panties.”

“I am. I’m so proud to be able to partner up with Aphrodite Lingerie to make a line of pretties exclusively for plus-sized women.” Janie faced the camera. “Time to get your sexy on, ladies!”

There was applause and cheers from the live audience.

The interview continued. The line was to debut at San Diego Fashion Week, day after tomorrow.

Huh. What a coincidence he lived in San Diego.