A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(60)

I cringe, because this is the part that’s not so easy to explain and the most difficult to get over. “His family owned an alpaca farm in New York but have since sold it. RJ plays professional hockey, here, in Chicago.”

“Professional meaning what?”

“He plays for the NHL.”

I get several long seconds of silence. “Doesn’t that mean he has to travel a lot? How can he provide any kind of emotional stability for you? For Kody? I don’t like this. Not one bit, Lainey.”

And this, right here, is the exact reason I’m in Chicago instead of Washington. I may have asked myself the same questions, but I don’t need my mother making this harder for me. “You can not like it all you want, but this is my life, not yours—and I get to make my own choices, whether you approve or not. It’s late—I’m tired. I have to feed Kody, and then I’d like to go to bed.”

“Lainey, please. I’m your mother. I know what’s good for you.”

“I love you, Mom, I really do, but you know what’s good for you, and that’s not necessarily what’s good for me. I’m going to try with RJ, for Kody’s sake and my own. You can support me or not, but either way, this is the choice I’m making.”

“Well, I think it’s another mistake.”

“You’re welcome to that opinion. I still love you, whether you choose to support my decision or not. Good night, Mom.” I end the call, expecting anxiety to take over. But it doesn’t. Instead I feel good about standing up for myself, even though it wasn’t easy.



Over the next couple of weeks, RJ—I can’t get in the habit of calling him Rook no matter how hard I try, which isn’t all that hard, to be quite honest—infuses himself into my and Kody’s lives. After the team doctor confirmed what we already knew to be the truth—RJ is Kody’s father—we’ve been spending as much time as possible together.

I now have a housekeeper who comes by not once but twice a week to tidy the apartment. A layer of dust doesn’t even have a chance to form before she’s back again. She also does all the laundry, and I’ll be honest—baby laundry is a giant pain in the butt. Baby clothes are adorable. And tiny. And babies go through clothes like they’re modeling for a runway fashion show. Except they’re often covered in spit-up—or, now that we’ve begun trying solids, explosive bowel movements. It’s the opposite of glamorous, and I’m pretty okay with not having to scrub out stains.

RJ has taken to coming to my place most nights of the week, unless he has early practice or he has to meet up with his teammates for evening meetings—which sometimes take place at the pub. He invites me to tag along or come to his practices, but I’m still trying to get used to him before I get used to all the other craziness that comes with his life and my being in it. The idea of sitting in an arena with all those people is enough to make my heart race and my palms sweat. I’m just not ready for that yet.

It’s bath night for Kody, which is his favorite. He loves splashing in the water and playing with his toys, so it’s kind of a production, but I don’t mind because he always sleeps so well afterward.

RJ picks him up from the play mat on the floor and gives him a raspberry on the tummy, which elicits a shriek and a giggle out of Kody. “Come on, little man, it’s bath time! You want to smell good for Stella at day care tomorrow. I saw you trying to steal her soother today, and I gotta tell you, that’s not the best way to make a good impression. If you don’t watch it, that little punk Hunter is going to move in on your territory. I saw him sharing his giraffe teether with her the other day. Now that’s how you get the girl.” Kody coos at his father, enthralled by everything he says like he’s actually mentally taking notes from him. RJ winks at me, and I follow him down the hall, shaking my head with a smile.

I’ve already set up the baby bath and all of Kody’s toys. While RJ undresses him, I put lavender-scented bubbles and warm water in his tub. I turn to see how RJ is managing and smile even wider as he leans down and gives him another raspberry, then removes his diaper and gives him a tickle.

I’m about to warn RJ that naked tickles aren’t the best idea—at least not where Kody is concerned—but I’m too late. Kody giggles loudly, which also prompts him to pee, and RJ is right in the line of fire.

“Oh shit!” RJ tries to use his hand as a shield, but Kody kicks his legs, which has a loose fire hose effect. RJ looks down at his now-wet shirt and hands. “Not cool, little man, not cool.”

I clap a palm over my mouth to muffle my laugh and nudge RJ out of the way so I can get to Kody. “Did you pee all over Daddy? You got him real good, didn’t you? Yes, you did! Daddy needs a bath too, just like you!” Kody babbles and smiles as I set him in the tub, immediately slapping at the bubbles and sending a spray of water my way. At least it’s just soapy water and not pee.

At the sound of metal hitting metal, I glance over my shoulder—and suck in a breath when I catch RJ unbuckling his belt. I lift my gaze, eyes raking over six-pack abs, defined pecs, and heavy shoulders. I can’t seem to command myself to look away as he unbuttons his jeans and drags the zipper down.

In the weeks since he’s come back into my life, I’ve been hesitant to fully acknowledge the chemistry between us, to give it room to breathe, because once I do there’s no going back. But I can’t ignore the way my body heats up at the sight of him undressing in Kody’s bathroom.