5. Jules

FIVE

JULES

End Of June

The door to our bedroom bangs open and wakes me up from a dead sleep and has me thinking Ava needs something.

" Ew , Jesus. Cover yourselves up, for fuck's sake." Jamie covers her eyes, but her mouth is frozen in a sneer making it very clear we're about to be in deep shit.

"You're the one that burst in here while we're asleep," Ster groans.

The throbbing in my head gets worse now that I know there's no immediate danger. Saying I'm hungover would be the understatement of the century.

"You've got about thirty seconds before I can't keep distracting Ava from coming in here."

I sneak a look at my phone and see it's eleven in the morning already. Jamie's mornings have been hell for the last eight months, but she graciously told us to go wild last night at the party we threw for the team to celebrate winning the Stanley Cup.

She told us she'd take the morning shift with Ava, but I guess we reached her limit.

I find my briefs next to the bed and reach for them, Sterling stands and strolls into the walk-in closet to get some clothes, and the next second, Jamie bursts into tears.

"I'm sorry," she wails, and I really feel for her. I walk quickly and have her wrapped in a hug the next second.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Jamie. I'm sorry, we shouldn't have let the party go on so late last night."

"Ava's already used to spending mornings with you guys, and she's been sad all morning. I just wanted her to smile a bit, and I couldn't make her. I'm such a shitty mom, she doesn't like me anymore. How am I going to be a mom to another baby in just a few weeks?"

"Shh," I soothe, and rub a hand up and down her back. "You're the best mom in the world, Jamie, and Ava loves you, just like Adam will. Mostly because you'll be able to sleep a whole night once he's done wreaking havoc on your body."

She chuckles lightly. "Damn right. That boy's going to be a handful if this pregnancy is anything to go by."

"And with you as his mother even more so."

The next second, little stomps sound down the hallway. Then, "Papa!"

Panic has me looking for Sterling. He comes out of the closet the next second, pauses at his nightstand to take a gulp of water, then comes toward us.

He hands me the glass and a couple of painkillers, kisses Jamie's temple, then walks out without a word.

I relax, take the pills and some water, then set it down on the TV stand. I go back to hugging Jamie tight, keep murmuring reassurances at her, and eventually feel a hard kick against my own stomach.

"He's hungry, huh?" I say in a lighter tone, hoping I get another laugh out of her.

"Yes, even though I ate three huge pancakes with Ava." Jamie softly caresses her belly and I see a soft smile on her lips when I finally let go.

"C'mon, I'll make you something else, whatever you want, and we can feed Sterling too. Otherwise we're all going to perish before the team celebration lunch."

"Okay," she whispers with a sigh. She wipes her wet cheeks and groans. "I can't wait for my emotions to get back to normal again. And fuck." She groans out the word and throws her head back. "I need to get ready, no way do I want to look like this next to all the gorgeous girlfriends and wives of the players." She gestures to her face.

"You're beautiful," I say simply, and though I see she hears me, I know my words won't really have a lasting impact. She'll deck herself out like she loves to do every day.

"It's part of my ritual, Jules," she always tells me, and I'm not stupid enough to tell her she doesn't need it. She's well aware of her beauty and impact. She has all my single teammates wrapped around her little finger after all.

None of them are right for her, in my humble opinion, and thankfully she agrees.

I don't even feel bad for being a tiny bit overprotective because she's the same way about me and Sterling. She hates when people throw themselves at us—though they're more often than not throwing themselves at Sterling.

I don't mind, the man's my husband after all, isn't he?

The morning passes in chaos, like all of them do. It's perfect, and when three in the afternoon comes around, we drive down to Gab's place and park behind the dozens of cars already in her driveway.

Like our home, she has a lot of parking space, and more than one plot. Though, her home is not as big as ours since we added the "wing," for Jamie to have another master for herself as well as a huge office and even bigger closet.

Gab's place has more outdoor amenities, though. She has a tennis court, since her daughters play, an Olympic-size pool, and a fifty-foot-long shaded sitting area. There are tables, couches, loungers, wingback chairs, a few swings even, and of course an outdoor kitchen.

I love celebration parties at Gab's place.

It's always super chill, with every single employee of the Pirates in attendance, but never stuffy.

Looking around, I see most people wearing swimsuits, kids running around with huge smiles, and I smell the grill.

The only rule is, you have to bring something. We brought the leftover drinks from last night, as well as a huge casserole I made after the worst of the hangover wore off.

I see most of my teammates are drinking beer, and debate on whether I should or shouldn't. I decide I won't, in solidarity with Jamie, since Ster reaches blindly into the first cooler in our path to the kitchen and pops open a can of beer without hesitation. The hot summer afternoon is perfect for a day of drinking away a hangover, so I don't blame him.

I even envy him, but he'll just feel worse tonight.

Ava runs right over to Bear, like she always does.

He's sitting in one of the loungers with Drew in his lap, and he's talking to Milkman and Spiderman. He throws his head back in a loud, booming laugh at whatever the younger guys say, and I smile just from looking at him.

It's been a hell of a year for our goalie, and I couldn't be happier for him.

I keep walking until I find the table where all the dishes are placed buffet-style, leave the casserole there, and see Jamie walk straight to Mater's wife, Ingrid, and Gab who are on the couch. She's probably going to complain about us to them. That's fine, she can vent all she wants.

We hang out with our friends, Sterling standing by me the whole day instead of going to talk to other people.

He's the worst stereotypical rockstar ever. Can't handle his drinks anymore. I snort into my drink at the thought of him hearing someone say that to him and what his responding scowl would look like.

"What?" he asks me with a small smile, and I just smirk at him then pretend to listen intently to whatever Santa is saying.

I bet Ster would put me over his knee if I dared, which I won't, but that's an idea for sure.

I might try to see how he reacts to me saying something less offensive. Maybe I can get that reaction out of him easily, who knows.

I'm a good boy, after all. I never tell my Daddy no, and he loves me for it, I know, but I want to find out what would happen if I misbehaved.

"Shut up!" Gab's loud voice stops every conversation. I look back toward the doors leading to the house and see Gab looking over her garden in frustration. "Listen, please. Everyone listen."

The grave look on her face has me panicking for the second time that day.

"Today is a celebration of course, but it's also a sad day for me, because our GM, Fred Thompson, is retiring for good today. So you will all listen to his speech, and thank him for putting you where you are, you get me?"

A chorus of, "Yes, Gab," goes around the whole place and she smiles, satisfied. Though not as satisfied as she normally looks when we all bow down to her superiority.

"Well, that's one way to start the speech." Fred sighs and runs a hand through his thinning hair. I know for a fact the man's been wanting to retire for half a decade, if not more, but he stayed because he wanted to help Gab out.

"It's truly been an honor watching this team over the years," he says without looking up. "Especially the last few years." He turns back to look briefly at Gab. She nods, with tears already streaming down her face. "Please know that even though I do need to retire and travel and do all the things my wife wants"—he smiles ruefully—"I'll miss you. And you won't be able to get rid of me that easily. I'll stop by from time to time to see how well you're doing without me."

There are soft chuckles from all around the garden, and I start walking closer. I'm gonna give Fred the biggest hug ever. The man did take a chance on me when I was only nineteen years old. He took me away from the awful house I lived in with my father, and changed my life by believing in me.

A big-ass hug is the least he deserves.

"But I'm definitely not leaving you in the lurch." Fred looks up and finally smiles fully. "I convinced my prodigy to come back."

"Only because Gab promised me she'd make me president in a few years." A deep voice comes from the sliding doors to the indoor lounge area. I have to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun but it makes no difference. The man's in the shade and until he walks out, I can't place him.

When he comes into the light, a slight gasp goes over the garden, and then a few cheers, a couple of shouted yesses, and I just chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, you and your ambition needed more than simply being the general manager of a Stanley Cup winning team." Fred rolls his eyes and shakes Jake Barlow's hand.

"Hell yeah, I do. Especially since my team took the Cup from you last year." The smirk that's permanently on his face doesn't fade as Fred grumbles.

"Oh, so you don't want the job anymore?" Gab asks, walking toward them.

"Of course I do," he says loudly and puts his hands up. He looks honestly alarmed, and I realize he left to work in South Carolina before Gab bought the Pirates, and he has no idea she's the biggest shit-talker in the world. I hold my snicker in. I don't want to give anything away.

Gab stares him down for half a minute and his eyes only get wider. Eventually, she bursts out laughing and so do we all.

Fred claps Jake on the shoulder. "You've got a lot to learn, boy."

Boy is a stretch. Well, not compared to Fred who's in his seventies now, but Jake is about Sterling's age, more than two decades older than the rookies present. Barlow's face relaxes, and he even chuckles after a few seconds.

"You got me there," he tells Gab.

"I'll keep you on your toes Barlow." She winks at him, then tilts up her head. "Go, meet everyone, I'll get you a drink. Beer, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks." Once more his eyes open wide. I don't blame him. In my experience, most billionaires, hell most millionaires, don't offer to get you a drink.

Jake makes his rounds across the grass, and the guys who've met him before all hang back with me in the covered lounge. It's true that he built a great team in South Carolina, it's in part thanks to him that the Strike won their first Stanley Cup ever last season, so this is a great move all around.

I'm sure Gab and Fred considered a dozen people for the job, if not more, and I trust them implicitly. I'm sad to see Fred go, of course I am, but I can't help but think this transition will be even smoother than when Gab bought the Pirates.

I stand when Jake is finally making his way to us, and Sterling kisses my cheek before making himself scarce. He's hungry and still a little bit grumpy. He also said something about getting some damn water. Good, he should stay hydrated because the heat is no joke.

"Picard," Jake greets me warmly. I go right in for the hug and pat his back enthusiastically.

"It's good to have you back, Barlow," I whisper, and I mean it.

"Feels like coming back home."

"That's because it is your home," Santa declares, before he yanks Barlow back and gives him his own hug. Mater's next, and then it's Bear's turn.

"I've missed your bear hugs, man." Jake goes in with a little jump and the goalie laughs. "No one gives such good hugs, I swear," he mumbles.

They part, and Bear takes a minute to introduce his brand-new fiancé to Jake. We bullshit about the past two seasons for a while until Jamie comes over with Sterling in tow. I throw my arm around her and turn us to introduce them, but Jake's gaze is already on Jamie.

"And who's this?" he asks with a... strange smile on his face. It puts me on edge.

"This is Jamie, my—" I'm cut off when she yanks her hand back from Jake's grip and slaps it over her mouth. Then she's running away into the house. Probably another bout of not-morning sickness. I'm about to go after her and help her—she's had such a hard time getting up from kneeling in front of the toilet in the last few months, her belly is too big—but Sterling's hot on her heels.

"She's pregnant," I say at last, and look at Jake with a wince. "I'm sure you also recognized my husband."

"Yeah, I did, and of course she's pregnant. Is she married?"

The question takes me aback. I don't know why, but I don't register anything behind it in the moment.

"No, she's not married." Jake keeps staring at me, and I feel his unspoken follow up question. "That's my baby she's pregnant with, and hers of course. She's my sister."

Jake chokes on air, then. "What?!" he demands.

I realize a second later how that sounds to someone who doesn't know shit about Sterling, Ava, and Jamie. "She's not actually my sister, she's like a sister to me and Ster, and the mother of our kids, of course. She's?—"

"None of your business." I hear a growl from my right. I snap my head in that direction and see Sterling. He looks at me quickly and murmurs, "She's fine, lying down in one of Gab's guest bedrooms. She's just tired." Then he looks back at Jake who's looking at both of us with a thoughtful tilt to his head.

"Why is it none of my business?" he asks, directly to Sterling.

"Because," is my husband's brilliant answer.

It's only then that I finally latch on.

"Oh, fuck no ." Is all I can say about it, but I point a finger to Jake's face. "Absolutely fucking not."

"Why the hell not?" Jake asks, defensively.

"A man doesn't reach his forties single because he's a good guy," I reason.

"Hey!" Sterling protests.

"I'm sorry, Ster, I?—"

"That's an archaic way of thinking," Gab says walking up to us. I see my three teammates all watching this disaster unfold with glee in their eyes. Motherfuckers.

"I didn't mean?—"

"I know you didn't, you're just letting your irrational and stupid macho genes poke out because you think you have to defend your sweet, helpless little sister."

"She's not helpless," I protest.

"Exactly," Gab snaps. "So the three of you can stop discussing her when she's not even here to put you in your place. Jake, I suggest you go over to the pool full of germs and children and find the little girl with blonde curls. She's your ticket into this family. Win her over and these two won't be able to say shit. Then I suggest you get your shit together and actually talk to Jamie when she comes back out." She nods to herself and goes to turn, but stops, looks back at Jake and smirks. "Just some food for thought. Santa tried too. He failed."

I see Jake pale a bit at her last remark, and I smirk.

"I'd leave you for her," I tell Sterling, nodding at Gab's back.

"Same, baby, especially since I was single, way into my forties, so of course I'm not a good guy."

"Ugh," I groan, "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven." He turns to me and smirks, and that smirk is evil . Before I can say or do anything, he's crouching down and putting me over his shoulder, fireman style. "But you're gonna pay for it."

He gives my ass a sharp slap—which answers my earlier question, I do like it when he spanks me—then throws me into the pool.

I come up for air only to be swarmed by kids.

Okay, I deserved that.