Pipe Dreams(53)

"Just doing my job."

Mike smiled. "Can we just take it a day at a time, kid? Planning has  never really worked for me. But don't slack off on the French homework  because I'm counting on you to ask directions if we get lost in Paris."

"I can't wait to see Cirque du Soleil, and visit all the cafes. And the shops. And the Tour Eiffel."

"We're going to do that right after I win the Stanley Cup, okay?"

"I thought you didn't like to make plans," his daughter teased.

"Only for that." He put his fingertips at the side of her ribcage and tickled her.

She resisted mightily for a moment, until a giggle busted out. "Daddy stop it!"

"Nope."

She shrieked, and he knew she'd be okay.


• • •

Two nights later, Lauren, Elsa, and Hans watched from seats just behind  the penalty box as Brooklyn lost to Dallas in game three of the finals.  Brooklyn took the game all the way into overtime with a 1 – 1 score, but  Dallas got lucky with an unlikely bounce, disappointing all the local  fans.

Lauren missed the next game, because it was on the same evening as her graduation.

I can't believe I'm missing your graduation, Mike had texted earlier in the day.

Honestly, I'd rather watch the game, she replied. But my parents are  coming, as is my ninety-year-old grandmother, and I haven't seen her for  months.

I'll be thinking about you.

Don't! she quickly replied. Think about the puck instead. If you win, I'll sneak into your house later to help you celebrate.

And if I lose? :(

Then you have to sneak into mine. And-hey-I need Castro's autograph. It's for the night doorman's daughter.

But not my autograph?

Sure, honey. I'm sure she'd like yours too.

You're hard on my ego.

Even when I'm moaning your name?

Okay, not then. See you tonight. :)

As it happened, Brooklyn won game four about an hour after the dean read  Lauren's name. The series was tied 2 – 2, and the giddiness Lauren felt  made it easier to survive a late dinner with her parents.

"You looked lovely, dear," her mother said, "even if black isn't really your color."                       
       
           



       

Lauren took another sip of her water glass, wishing there was Scotch in  it. Or maybe tequila. Her mother's greatest talent was missing the  point. The color of her cap and gown couldn't matter less. She'd put  herself through college without their help.

To celebrate her victory over their lack of generosity with tuition  money, her parents had decided to take her out to an insanely expensive  restaurant. Her father ordered a pricey bottle of champagne, of which  she had three sips because she was not about to disclose her pregnancy.  That conversation could wait until her clothes weren't fitting anymore,  or at least until she and Mike figured out how the next few months were  going to work.

After the dessert course, her Katt Phone buzzed with a message. Excusing  her rudeness, she checked to find a text from Mike. Don't come to  Brooklyn, I'm coming to you.

Her chest fluttered with excitement, and suddenly the evening became  more bearable. Can't wait! Good game tonight. Wish I could have seen it.

You'll get your own personal highlight reel a little later.

She smiled and put her phone away. "Brooklyn won game four," she announced to the table.

Her father made a sour face. "Fucking miracle, then. The new guy is gonna drive that team right into the ground."

Lauren couldn't guess who he meant by "the new guy" when there were so  many possibilities: Nate, who'd fired him, Hugh who'd been promoted into  his old job, or Coach Worthington. She didn't bother to clarify because  it was so obvious that her father was a bitter old man. The team had  gotten further than anyone expected this year, and would likely kill it  next year, too.

"I'm quite tired," she said instead of engaging him. "Thank you for this lovely meal, but I think I'll head home."

"Well done, honey," her elderly grandmother said, nodding sleepily from across the table.

"Now if only we could find you a nice, available man," her mother mused.

"Thank you, gran," Lauren said, ignoring her mother and rising to leave.  "That means a lot." And now it was really time to make her exit.

"This is for you," her father said, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." She tucked it into her bag, where her cap and gown had been  stuffed after the ceremony. She kissed her parents quickly and went  home to wait for Mike.


• • •

An hour or so later they lay in a sweaty heap together, catching their  breath after an enthusiastic romp on her bed. She kissed the slightly  furry centerline of his chest, then laid her cheek on it.

"When can I get you to marry me?" he asked suddenly.

Her heart skipped a beat. "You want to get married?"

"Of course I do." His hand sifted clumsily through her hair. "But I know  some women don't want to walk down the aisle with a belly. What are  your thoughts regarding weddings and baby bumps?"

"This will be the second time you marry a pregnant wife."

He hauled up his chest so he could see her face. "The circumstances  couldn't be more different. I would have married you beforehand if I  thought you would go for it."

She smiled down at him. "I know. And I don't like weddings all that much, honestly. They're so predictable."

He let out a bark of laughter. "What do you mean?"

"White dress. Pachelbel's Canon in D. Tiered cake. They're all the same,  and yet you can just feel how hard everyone labored to try to make it  special."

"I love cynical girls."

"You must."

"What's the solution, then? You don't want to get married?"

"I'd love to be married to you," she whispered. "I don't care about the wedding. There's always Vegas."

"God, you're fun," he chuckled. "We could do that."

"We could let Elsa pick the venue. The fake Eiffel Tower, or in a helicopter, or by Elvis."

He snorted. "The power would go right to her head."

"I don't mind. The venue isn't important to me."

"Elsa told me in no uncertain terms that we have to get married."

Lauren lifted her head. "Really? Why?"

His handsome face broke into a smile. "I don't know her angle, exactly.  But I wasn't going to argue until I spoke to you about it. If you want  to elope to Vegas, I'm down with that. Or we could invite our parents."

"No." She snuggled against him again. "Let's just go the three of us. Right before training camp, maybe?"                       
       
           



       

"The four of us," he corrected, placing a hand on her belly.

"Aw." She relaxed against him.

"Seriously, Lo. I can't wait to make this promise to you and slip a ring on your finger. It means a lot to me."

Her throat got tight. "It will mean a lot to me, too."

"I wonder if I'll be as good at picking out rings as I am at picking out  blue dresses? Maybe you should help me. Nobody is more stylish than  you."

"The design isn't important," she said quietly.

"Aw, I know you love me, Lo. But if you're wearing it every day until you die, maybe you should approve of the design?"

"When you put it that way." She grinned against his warm skin, and he  gave her a pat on the rump. "Hey-you won't believe what my father gave  me for a graduation gift."

"What?"

"A hundred thousand dollar check."

Mike made a choking noise. "Your father is such an asshole."

"Thank you!" She knew she sounded like the worst stubborn brat on the  planet right now, but the man was the worst sort of control freak. "If  he'd given me the money when I was eighteen, I would have graduated a  decade sooner." Thinking about it almost made her feel twitchy with  anger again. Almost. She couldn't quite muster up the outrage while Mike  stroked her skin with patient hands.

"You know . . ." He cleared his throat. "That vile man did me a favor,  though. If it wasn't for your long tenure in the front office, I might  not have found you."

Now there was a freaky idea. "Yes, you would," she said quickly. "I  would have been the manager's daughter who hung around at home games,  instead of the manager's daughter who ran the front office."

"You're right," he said sleepily. "That would have been enough."

The next sound he made was a snore.





THIRTY-ONE



The next morning Lauren woke up to a flurry of texts from Nate. The  investment bankers had found a third bidder for Nate's router division.  Nate-and therefore Lauren-was going to see a presentation from the new  bidder first thing that morning.