4. Jake

When I stop the car on the tarmac, Caroline tries to get the gigantic baby bag out of the trunk. I take it from her and throw it over one shoulder. She gets Walker out of his car seat, which took me about forty-five minutes to get in after a lot of grunting, cursing, and even a little blood. Caroline seemed content to let me struggle with it while she went back and forth to the bed and breakfast a hundred times to gather more supplies.

Caroline is hardly five feet tall, with thick brown curls and a heart-shaped face. As a kid, I always had a crush on the school librarian, and Caroline is like that woman cranked up to one hundred. She even has the rotation of quirky glasses on-point. Today, she's wearing jeans and a low-cut blouse that shows off her cleavage. I'm only a little sour as I occasionally sneak looks. There was a time when Caroline was more or less mine.

We had a loose arrangement where she was available and willing if I was in town during the offseason or between games. We kept it all very quiet and never asked each other questions about exclusivity or anything like that. I would've been too embarrassed to admit to her that I was always exclusive when we were fooling around. It just never felt right to hook up with other women, even if we hadn't put a label on what we were doing.

At some point, I guess I even let myself stupidly believe she felt the same way. Imagine my shock when she turned up pregnant and insisted it was from some guy nobody had ever met. Worse, the asshole didn't even stick around to help her with the baby.

"He really needs this much stuff?" I ask, adjusting the bag on my arm. "It's like you packed for a doomsday scenario, not a day trip to Manhattan."

"He's a baby, Jake. The only thing predictable about them is that you can't predict a thing. So you prepare for every possibility. Explosive poops. Projectile vomit. Ear protection. Bandaids, sweaters, blankies, mittens, hats, pacifiers, lovies, bottles, formula, and–"

I grin. "Okay. Point taken. Babies are terrible, and I should never consider having one of my own. Got it."

She makes a sour face, even though I only wanted to lighten the mood.

"I mean, he's fine," I say, giving the little guy in his car seat a look. "Is it normal for them to be so… bald?"

Caroline's sour face looks fully venomous now. I have to admit I'm just fucking with her a little, even if it's very unwise. The kid is honestly pretty cute. If you're into small, helpless humans, that is. I can't say I've ever seen what all the fuss was about. Kids are what you create when you're ready to give up on your own dreams and aspirations in life. They're for passing torches, and I'm not ready to pass any fucking torches. Not as long as I can help it.

"I'm starting to think I may want a fake divorce," Caroline says.

"We'd have to get fake married for that. I think you mean you want to call off the fake wedding."

We're crossing the small distance toward the private jet, which is waiting with the stairs down for us. The pilot is standing by the stairs.

He reaches for my hand. "Hey, Jake. Can't wait to see you play again next season. I'm a huge fan."

I shake his hand back. "Thanks. I appreciate the support."

I notice Caroline rolling her eyes and pretending to barf a little bit.

I follow behind as we head up the stairs. I try to take Walker for her, but she won't give up the baby carrier. I settle for keeping a close watch on her from behind–and it's only partly because I'm enjoying the view up the stairs while her ass is at eye level.

I've always been an ass man, and Caroline has the kind of ass that an ass man dreams about. Today, she's wearing light blue jeans that stretch over her ample rear end.

She turns around, catches me looking, and glares.

"Hey," I say, hands raised defensively. "What kind of fake fiancé would I be if I didn't admire my girl's perfect ass when it's right in front of me?"

"Nobody is watching, Jake."

"Gotta do it right when nobody's watching, so it feels natural when they are."

"Well," she says, darting her eyes away from mine. "I'm still trying to get rid of some of the baby weight, so stop staring, or you'll make me self-conscious."

"Of what? You look fu–" I catch myself and remember moms don't usually like for people to swear around their babies. "You look amazing."

"Well, thank you," Caroline says quietly.

We get settled into our seats. Caroline sits across the aisle from me so she can put Walker in his seat beside her. The flight attendant helps her get the seat strapped in properly. When I arranged the flight, I made sure they'd be able to accommodate a baby in his carrier. The lady seemed to know what I was talking about, and I'm glad it seems like they've got it handled.

"By the way," Caroline says as the plane is starting to taxi for takeoff. "I'm pretty sure you didn't need to kiss me with tongue yesterday."

"Old habits," I say dismissively. "But I'm pretty sure your tongue found its way into my mouth right after that. And you really were drooling a little bit when I pulled away."

She sits up straighter. "That's bullsh… she pauses. "That is crap. Crud."

I laugh. "You can't protect that kid from swear words, you know. His uncle is an NHL player. He's going to be surrounded by more cursing than he'll know what to do with. Might as well embrace it."

Caroline looks like she wants to say something but gets stiffer and keeps quiet.

I almost ask about Walker's real dad. I can joke around all I want, but the truth is there's something that twists inside me every time I see Caroline and Walker. It's a sense of betrayal and hurt I know I don't have any right to feel.

If nothing else, I wish I could kick his real dad's ass. Caroline shouldn't be stuck doing this all on her own, just like everything else in her life. It pisses me off. It hurts. Because I know Caroline never asks anyone for help. I admire that about her just as much as it frustrates me.

Hell, if I believed there was a remote chance she would've let me, I might have even offered to step in. Babies and kids aren't my thing, but I could've at least helped her hire some help or babysat to give her some time off.

"Have you thought about what kind of ring you want yet?" I ask.

"Nothing crazy," she says quickly. "Just enough to sell the lie."

"Well, if you really were engaged to me, your ring would be something crazy. So…"

She eyes me. "I don't want you wasting your money on a lavish ring, Jake. And make sure you can return it when this is done."

"Right," I say, even though I've got no intention of returning the ring. She can keep it for all I care. The idea of getting her some cheap thing doesn't sit right with me, so that's not how this is going to go.

Caroline leans over Walker's carrier and shushes him. He makes some gurgling noises, and I see chubby hands holding her finger as she smiles.

Something in my chest feels confusingly warm at the sight of them. She's good with him, which is mildly surprising to me for some reason. I guess Caroline always seemed like such a badass that I wasn't sure she could soften enough to be that kind of mother. I sort of pictured Sarah Conner from The Terminator giving her kids assault rifles and grenade launchers, then teaching them how to prepare for the coming robot apocalypse. Seeing her baby talk and giggle with Walker is definitely not what I had imagined.

"Think he'll handle the takeoff okay?" I ask.

"He's tough."

"That's not a shock. Look at his mom."

Caroline's smile looks genuine and then suddenly sad again.

She goes back to focusing on Walker, and I'm left with my thoughts racing. There's obviously something bothering her. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise, though. That asshole just told her yesterday that she needs to get married in six months, or she'll lose the bed and breakfast her mom left her. That would ruin anybody's day.

I put it all out of my mind and pulled out my phone. I start a text to Vanessa.

Me:Good news. I got the solution to our little problem.

Vanessa: Already? What did you do?

I smile as I type because I'm imagining the look on her face when she reads this.

Me:Got hitched. On the way to Manhattan right now to pick up a ring for my girl. Want to come to the wedding?

Vanessa starts and stops typing about ten times before her reply finally comes through.

Vanessa:Not funny.

Me:Good. Because it wasn't a joke. You better come to my wedding, or I'll be offended.

"Something funny?" Caroline asks.

"Oh, no." I tuck my phone into my pocket. "I was just telling my agent about our arrangement." I shrug. "She told me I needed to figure something out to make the team feel more secure about me the other night. Needless to say, she wasn't quite expecting this."

Caroline laughs. "Yeah. I bet she wasn't."

"Picture me," I muse, almost to myself. "Married and raising someone else's kid." I chuckle. "It might be a miracle if anyone buys this."

Caroline's expression falls.

"It'll be alright," I say, assuming she's doubting the plan now. "I'll come up with a way to explain it to the team staff. And I doubt Peter needs to actually believe it's legit. So long as we sign the papers and do the ceremony, we'll be golden on your end." I smile as reassuringly as I can. "We're good, Caroline. I got this."

She smiles back, but something is clearly off with her.

I lean back in my seat as the plane accelerates for takeoff. What the hell did I say wrong this time?