Shannon finished her wine in a quick swallow and headed for her bedroom. Moments later, the muffled vibration of her trusty vibrator was the only sound in the apartment — until she cried out his name, lost in the memory of that one night with the hot stranger.
Nolan…
-2-
Nolan couldn't believe what he was seeing. The entire drive to San Jose, he kept telling himself, this was all likely a ruse, some game to shake cash from his wallet. But as his gut tightened with instant recognition of the long-legged strawberry blonde, he remembered the night they’d spent together with frightening clarity. When she’d said names hadn’t been necessary, truthfully, he hadn't believed her. He’d figured after a little pillow time, she’d give up her identity — mystery solved. Girls always wanted a second round with a Buchanan. And given how many times he'd made her squeal, he had arrogantly assumed she’d return begging for more. But that wasn't how the next morning had gone down at all.
"Where you going?" he asked sleepily when he realized she was no longer in the bed. He found her fully dressed and trying to find her shoes. "It's so early."
She smiled and, having found her shoes under the bed, slipped them on her feet and grabbed her purse. "I had fun but it's time to go. I have a full day on the schedule.” She stopped to add, “You are great, by the way. I confess, I might have thought you were overstating your skills but I was wrong. You have reason to be arrogant."
It was then Nolan realized she was actually leaving. He sat up straighter. "You're really leaving? How about some breakfast?" he asked, throwing the sheets from his naked body. "Don't leave just yet. We were just getting to know each other."
"I don't want to get to know you beyond what I already know," she answered sweetly. "Besides, why ruin a beautiful memory?”
He advanced toward her, his grin growing as surely as his cock. He felt fairly confident that if he could get her into his arms one more time, she wasn't going anywhere. But she must've realized that too because she danced out of his reach with a knowing laugh even as her gaze registered regret. "Sorry. Tempting as it is, this was a one-shot deal." She blew him a kiss and quickly let herself out of the penthouse.
Nolan couldn't believe it. Women didn’t willingly leave his bed. Most times he had to push them out when they became tediously attached. Here he was with a rock hard cock, ready for round two and his partner had just tapped out. Damn. So this was what rejection felt like. Not very appealing. Should he chase after her? A voice in his head countered, why? He didn't want commitment and neither did she. This was really the best of both worlds, so why did he feel so abandoned, as if he’d been used? He forced a rueful laugh. Hell, he was becoming a woman. They’d both enjoyed the night. Leave it at that.
And if the nagging sense that he should have followed her dogged his steps days after she'd left, he ignored it.
Now, as he watched her from a distance, laughing and joking, seeming perfectly at home among the rough and brawny hockey players of the Juggernaut, he realized he should have listened to his gut. His gaze strayed to the little girl perched upon the shoulders of one of the large players and her delighted squeal ricocheted through his heart. Was that his child? Was that little girl, with the soft strawberry blond curls, a Buchanan? There was only one way to find out. And yet, his feet refused to move.
If that kid was his, what would that mean for his life? He could walk away from this right now and pretend he’d never received an anonymous note. Whoever had sent it hadn't asked for any money and thus hadn’t given any contact information. There was no need to chase after this, right? The kid looked happy, well taken care of. And he really didn't know if the kid was his. Plus, he recalled, they’d used protection. In fact, they went through half a box of condoms. There was no way that cute little kid was his. Someone had played a very unfortunate joke and they were going to pay.
Nolan watched as the woman and the toddler separated from the players as the men headed for the ice rink and she headed for a backdoor into the building. He broke away from the shadows and quickly followed. The musty smell of a high school locker room assaulted his senses and he grimaced at the unpleasant scent. That was one thing he did not miss about high school or college. He’d played enough sports to remember that distinct odor of sweat, burnt muscles, and pure exhaustion to last him a lifetime. As the sport trainer, he supposed it was appropriate for her office to be near the lockers but he was shaken by the pinch of something too close to possessiveness for his comfort as he rounded the corner. He could hear her talking to the toddler with softly animated tones and he remembered the sound of her cries as he rode her lean body all those many nights ago. Not helpful, he reminded himself as he crossed the threshold into her office. When she saw him, she actually yelped and nearly dropped the toddler in surprise. "Nolan…" The strangled whisper told volumes. She tightened her hold on the child, who turned to stare at him with her finger in her mouth. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes darting past him. "You shouldn't be here.”
“There are a lot of places I shouldn’t go but here isn’t one of them.”
“Please, Nolan. This is my job. I can’t get into this with you right now.”
“Too bad,” he said, not willing to budge. “I have some questions and you’re going to answer them.” A surprising shock of awareness rippled through Nolan as he stared at the woman he last saw three years ago. His gaze returned to the toddler who was about three years old and that sickening lurch in his gut returned. He stared harder at the little girl and his brain quickly began picking out the easy similarities between himself and her fair features. "She mine?" he asked in a hard tone. When the woman’s lips tightened as if refusing to answer he repeated the question only this time his gaze narrowed with unrestrained anger. "Is she mine?"
"No."
He wanted to believe her so he could walk away but the sad truth was he knew she was lying. He could plainly see Buchanan traits in that child. "You're lying."
"What are you doing here?" she asked plaintively, her eyes growing wet. "How did you find me?"
"Funny thing about that. I didn't find you. Someone sent me an anonymous note saying I had a kid. Honestly, I thought it was a ruse to shake me down for some money. But I see now that whatever their motives, it had nothing to do with money. Surprisingly."