Page 82 of Play Dirty

Everything is different with Marty.

My friends think he’s awesome, he treats me like a queen, and the sex is out of this world. A dam of some kind broke and we’re all over each other, all the time. I do worry a little about what will happen if he gets custody of his kids. Patty is coming and he’s going to hire a nanny, but I think it’s going to get complicated.

I can picture Emma’s little eyes welling up with tears when she’s upset. Martin’s belligerence because he has no other way to express himself. Bradley getting even more clingy. And another part of me worries about my role in their lives.

They have a mother, which means I would be their stepmother if our relationship progresses. But Bradley is only nineteen months old—with Brenna in Tennessee, I would become his mother, no matter what we tell him. And that’s bound to cause problems.

I’m also worried that Marty wants more kids. He’s never said anything to me directly, but he was clear that he wanted at least one more. I can’t give him a child, no matter how much I would have loved that, and he has to be okay with it. It’s not like I lied to him—he knows I can’t have kids. So I have to believe he knows what he’s gotten into.

These are some of the things we need to talk about but we agreed to take things slow and find our footing, and I don’t want to have any hard conversations this soon. We’ve had enough to deal with. It’s nice to just be together.

Despite my concerns, I can’t envision myself ending things with Marty. Everything else is perfect. I’m happier than I’ve ever been with a man, and that’s not just because the bar is low. Marty exceeds every expectation I set for myself when I thought about what I wanted in a man when I started dating again.

Marty checks off every box on my list and a few I hadn’t dared to hope for. I never thought there was such a thing as a Prince Charming, not for me, but there is. And he comes in the form of a hockey-playing single dad who makes me feel safe and whole again.

Why would I want to let that go?

* * *

My friend Marcieis waiting at the bar when I get to the restaurant. She runs over to hug me.

“You look good, girlfriend! How are you?”

“I’m a lot better,” I say, sinking onto a bar stool. The last time we talked was right after I left New York, so I’d been in a dark place emotionally.

I order a glass of white wine and turn to her. “What about you? Life treating you well?”

“Eh, sometimes.” She wrinkles her nose. “I travel all the time so it’s hard to see my family or even my friends. And forget about dating—I’m never here.”

“I think it’s the sacrifice we make for our careers,” I say thoughtfully.

“What about you? Are you dating anyone or staying single for a while?”

“Actually, I did meet someone. A hockey player. His name is Marty Nadeau. He plays for the L.A. Phantoms.”

“Oh!” Her eyes light up. “Tell me more!”

We talk about Marty—and the kids—while we wait for our table.

The maître d’ approaches us out of nowhere. “Ms. Marchand. L’il Barracuda has extended an invitation for you and your friend to join his party for dinner.”

“Oh, is ’Cuda here?” I twist in my chair and look around.

Sure enough, ’Cuda is at a table in the back, and he lifts a hand in greeting.

“You want to meet someone both hot and nice?” I ask Marcie. “Let’s go eat with L’il Barracuda.”

She arches her brows. “You know him?”

“I do. Come on.”

We follow the maître d’ to the table, and ’Cuda gets up to hug me.

“How you doing, Stevie?” he asks.

“I’m good.” I hug him back.

I introduce Marcie and he introduces his friends, and then I sink down next to him since it’s a half-circle style booth.

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