Hard to Hold (7 page)

They made it to the hotel in good time. Isabella got out of the SUV and reached for Cinnamon's bag, but Logan got to it first. “How about I take care of this stuff, and you just get the baby?”

“Okay.” She averted her gaze, focusing on the baby. It was too confusing to look at Logan, especially after spending a couple of hours in close proximity to him.

Almost like a couple
. “We can make more than one trip,” she suggested, surveying their belongings.

“Nah. I'll have them bring up the bags when we check in.” He gestured for the bell captain, who immediately grabbed a big brass cart and brought it over to the vehicle. Between Logan and the hotel employee, they quickly and efficiently stacked the luggage and the baby things.

When they approached the registration desk, Isabella saw the clerk give the soccer player a big smile.

“Welcome, Mr. Hart. We have everything arranged for you: two adjoining rooms, a suite. We have a crib set up and a refrigerator. Is there anything else you think you need?”

It was obvious the woman thought Logan was hot. Isabella hid her annoyance, but Logan didn't seem to notice.

“I appreciate you taking care of all that.”

“Your nanny did a great job of communicating what you need,” she said, her eyes reluctantly shifting to Isabella. “Makes our life much easier.”

“Yeah. She is pretty amazing.”

For the second time that day, Isabella's mouth dropped. Was he trying to take a different approach? Instead of fighting her on everything, was he beginning to understand there was a method to her madness?

She didn't know but was a little surprised to find his compliments and kindness threatening. It was easier to keep a distance when he gave her a rough time.

Logan being sweet was entirely too appealing…

“Here are your keys. Just call down to the front desk if you need extra towels or anything else.” The woman's gaze fell on the baby, and her expression softened. “What a cutie! A redhead.” She looked at Isabella, and then flirtatiously at Logan. “Is that from her mommy's side?”

“No,” he responded, and Isabella heard an edge in his voice. “But my sister is a ginger.”

“Ah. That's it, then,” the clerk said, blissfully unaware she had stumbled on a sticky subject.

Isabella was more than a little surprised, though she kept her emotions to herself.
Logan's sister is a redhead?
Did he think it was all just a coincidence that he was named as the father, and the baby shared some of his family's genetics?

But Logan seemed more than ready to be done with this conversation. He signaled to the bellman to follow them into the elevator. As they walked away, she heard the desk clerk say behind them, “What a nice little family.”

Isabella didn't dare look up at him.

The rooms were perfect. Isabella saw the crib all prepared with fresh sheets and even a little quilt. The refrigerator was plugged in and already cold, and there were a couple of bottles of purified water waiting inside.

“Looks like they thought of everything,” she said, settling the baby inside her temporary bed.

Logan had been quiet on the ride up in the elevator, and she could imagine his thoughts after the desk clerk's comments. “Yeah, thanks to you. Listen, I've got to go work out. I've got my cell if you want me.”

He needed space. Isabella could tell by the distracted look in his eyes that he wanted to be alone. Part of her wanted to take him in her arms, make him see that it would be all right.

But she knew better than that, especially after their last encounter. So, instead, she nodded and indicated the bags. “I'll get everything unpacked.”

“Be back later,” he said, taking one of the keys and indicating the other was for her.

As he closed the door, Isabella turned to look at the baby. Little Cinnamon was happily playing with her feet again, completely unaware of the drama around her.

Was Logan Hart beginning to come to terms with the idea that the baby might be his? The issue wouldn't be settled completely until he went to court and the judge requested a DNA test. The labs would ultimately determine the truth, and at that point legally he would be named the father, responsible for his child.

It was clear he couldn't count on any help or support from the mother, at least not at this point. He was on his own, with an enormous responsibility on his shoulders.

It was a difficult situation for any man but especially one who was used to a very different life: a professional athlete who lived on the road as a single guy, enjoying all the benefits his career provided.

To go from that to becoming a single parent of a little girl was a huge leap.

She wondered if he would be able to make it.

Logan powered through his workout, sweat dripping from his forehead as he lifted weights. Next he tackled the treadmill, trying to follow CNN on the flat-screen TV, but found he couldn't focus.

His thoughts kept returning to that awkward moment when they had checked in and the hotel desk clerk assumed Cinnamon was his baby.

His baby!

Worse, he'd let it slip in front of Isabella that his sister shared the baby's hair color. He didn't know much about genetics, but redheads were unusual—there were not a lot of them walking around without getting help from a salon.

He remembered Jessica being teased at school, called Carrot Top and Red. He and Rory threatened to beat up the McGonigle kids when she came home from kindergarten, bewildered by the name-calling. But Jess was always a little tough guy, and he had to pull her off Gordon McGonigle the next day before she beat the shit out of him.

The little girl sleeping upstairs had the same coppery hair. It's not that he didn't know it; it had registered with him immediately. But it was one of those inconvenient facts that he chose to shove to the back of his brain.

Now it was front and center: This baby resembled his family.

Resembled
him
.

Even when he took the hair color out of the equation, she had blue eyes.

But that didn't mean anything, right? He picked up the pace. Babies' eyes often changed color. They could wind up being brown or hazel.

Instead of crystal fucking blue
.

Logan ran harder, ignoring the curious glance of the girl beside him. She'd been trying to catch his eye for the last twenty minutes, but he was too distracted.

What the hell was he going to do?

Even if Desiree took her back, he knew he couldn't walk away from his own child. He'd want to make sure she was getting the kind of care that Isabella was providing. Later, he'd want her in a good school, living in a safe neighborhood. He'd be involved in her life, have a real relationship with her, which meant shared custody.

And then he would really need Isabella…

Fuck!

His thoughts went back to the baby and the upcoming paternity suit. He didn't have a problem with the financial aspect; it was the unknowing…

He shook his head, aware he was going to drive himself crazy. Forcing himself to calm the fuck down, he reminded himself that everything would be resolved within a couple of weeks. He would know what the deal was, would be able to talk to Desiree, and then could make some definite decisions.

Feeling better, he got off the treadmill, wiping the sweat from his face and arms. The girl jogging beside him gave him a big smile.

“Hey there. I thought you were going to run right off the machine!”

“Yeah, I wanted to get in a decent workout.” He let his eyes wander over her. She was pretty, with black hair, dark eyes, and thick lashes, and wore black spandex workout pants and a tight cropped tank top that showed off her curves.

She slowed to a walk, and then stepped down to the floor. After taking a big swig from her water bottle, she gave him another smile.

“I was going to grab a juice. Care to join me?”

He saw the heat in her eyes and knew she was interested in him, and not just as a buddy. Mentally, he tried the idea on for size. It would be nice to have some female companionship, a woman to take out to dinner, some good conversation and fun.

Maybe it would even help where Isabella was concerned. If he fucked this woman, maybe he wouldn't be so attracted to his gorgeous nanny. But he dismissed that idea immediately. Beautiful as this girl was,
she wasn't Bella.

Chances were good he wouldn't see this girl again until the next time he came to New York. And after what had happened with Desiree, he was gun-shy of one-night stands.

More than that, he had too much going on to start anything with anyone else. He needed to get his head straight as well as his life.

“Some other time,” he said. “Though I appreciate the offer.”

“Sure.” She smiled, taking another sip of her water. “Let me know. I work out here every morning.”

Logan tossed the towel over his shoulder and started for the locker room.

It looked like he was going to have to change his workout time. He didn't want to be running into this woman and feeling that subtle pressure. He also didn't want to be reminded that he wasn't exactly fancy-free these days.

Life grew more fucking complicated by the moment.

He wasn't coming back.

Isabella knew Logan had a game that evening and thought he would return after practice before heading out. But as the hours passed, she realized he must have gone straight to the stadium.

Was he avoiding them? Or did he just need a mental break? In either case, there wasn't a whole lot to do in a hotel room all day, especially with a little baby.

Bored, she took Cinnamon with her to the hotel restaurant for dinner. Thankfully, the baby slept, even though she garnered plenty of attention from the waitresses cooing all over her. Unfortunately, the meal was much worse than the company. The steak was a little tough and the green beans mushy. Finishing, she sipped her coffee, aware there wasn't much reason to linger. Yet the thought of spending the rest of the evening sequestered in the room upstairs was unappealing.

So she made an executive decision and packed up the baby with a couple of bottles and diapers, and asked the concierge for a taxi. She hadn't had a chance to discuss with Logan taking Cinnamon to the stadium, but she didn't see an issue; she wanted to start integrating his daughter into his life. She knew he wasn't ready to go public about the child, but she figured she would get a seat in the stands and enjoy the game until the baby grew restless.

No harm, no foul.

She even considered it might help Logan's confidence to see that he could have his career and his child. It would just take a little planning and flexibility on everyone's part.

Feeling good about her decision, she stepped outside as the cab arrived. She wouldn't be able to stay for the entire game, but just long enough to get out of the hotel for an hour and let Cinnamon get some fresh air. She'd check in with Logan later, when he got back, and let him know they'd been there.

It was a pretty decent plan if she did think so herself.

“Hey, Logan.” Sergio approached, an odd look on his face. “Isn't that your baby?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Logan was stretching his hamstrings, prepping for the game. He looked over his shoulder in confusion.

“Look!” Sergio indicated the flat-screen TV overhead. “There is your bambino!”

His gaze settled on a gorgeous blonde seated in the stands, a baby in a black nylon carrier positioned in front of her voluptuous chest. She lifted the child, freeing herself from the buckles, and Logan could see her clearly.

A redheaded infant.

Cinnamon.

Logan couldn't believe his eyes, but there she was.

What the fuck was she thinking, bringing the baby to the game? Was she trying to expose him, reveal his personal situation to more than twenty thousand fans? His team?

Their management?

Of course, the camera loved her. Isabella was talking to the baby and pointing to the field. The wind caught a few locks of that gorgeous blond hair, and when she looked up, the camera was ready with a close-up of that devastating face. Even Sergio, standing beside him, kissed his fingertips and shook his head.

“
Mama mia
, she is
magnifico
!” He looked at Logan incredulously. “How do you keep your hands off her?”

“She's my fucking nanny,” Logan growled. His voice held a warning, and Sergio knew better than to comment further.

As the play started, Logan forced himself to focus on the ball.

And not the woman in the stands, carrying a baby she presumed to be his.

When the Hurricanes won and the game was over, Logan felt a sense of relief. At least they wouldn't have to listen to the coach beating them up, and it was good to see a little more energy and enthusiasm from some of the team members. In the end, it had made a difference. Ryan McCulloch slotted the ball past the midfielders and got it to him, and he was able to pass to Sergio, who scored the winning goal.

Yet his thoughts were scrambled in spite of their success. He couldn't stop thinking about Isabella out there in the stands with the baby. He had to force himself not to look that way when running down the field, but it was as if he could feel their eyes on him.

What the hell had she been thinking?

It was bad enough that Sergio knew what was going on, and with social media, it was hard to keep anything private for long. If it got out that he had a secret baby, it would create a media shitstorm.

Not that Logan gave a damn what other people thought about him, or how he chose to live his life. But he didn't need the gossip, the inevitable questions, the judgment, and the scrutiny that would follow if his situation became public.

As he dressed and started to leave, their coach appeared.

“Hart!” he shouted, his face red, eyes wide with disbelief. “What the hell is this shit about you having a baby?”

Logan's mouth dropped, and he sent a backward glance over his shoulder. Sergio looked away, and he could guess the rest. It only took a little whispering down the lane, and the cat was out of the bag.

Or in this case, the baby.

“Is it true?” The coach demanded an answer.

“No!” He glared back. Several of his teammates began looking their way, so he deliberately lowered his voice. “This girl claims the baby is mine. But I'm not buying it.”

“Do you mean her? The TV blonde?”

“No,” Logan snarled, furious. “I hired a nanny until I get this shit straightened out.”

Guy's eyes narrowed. “I want this to go away. While I realize your personal life isn't my business, it becomes mine when you create a distraction for the team. Shut it down. Now.”

Logan shot the man an icy stare. “I have no control over gossip. This situation happened; I didn't go looking for it. But you are right about one thing. It is none of your fucking business.”

He stormed off before the coach could say another word. He wasn't about to explain himself to anyone, and especially not to Guy Lindon.

But now he was doubly furious with Isabella. Her innocent little gesture of bringing the baby to the game now had untold complications where he was concerned.

It was the last damn thing he needed.

Cinnamon had fallen right to sleep.

Isabella smiled fondly at the little girl, her rump in the air, as content in the hotel crib as she was her own room.

Babies were great that way, so able to adapt. As long as their basic needs were met, they didn't seem to care much if they were in a shopping center, a doctor's office, or a four-star Marriott.

Maybe once Logan saw that, it would make a big difference…

Settling down on the couch, she picked up the phone and ordered room service: a nice glass of Pinot Noir and some strawberries and cream. As she waited for the food, she took out her phone and saw she had a text from Logan. Her smile increased as she tapped the screen:

FYI. You were on TV today at the game, and the team figured it out.

Isabella froze, the blood draining to her feet. It couldn't be. How could something like this have happened? There were at least fifteen thousand fans in the audience…

The message had faded, so she tapped it again, almost convinced she must have read it wrong. But she saw the same words:

The team figured it out
…

It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room. And while she couldn't understand all of the ramifications, she knew one thing:

Logan must be utterly furious
.

A knock sounded on the door and she panicked until she heard a voice cry: “Room service!” Forcing herself to breathe, she let the waiter enter and indicated for him to put the tray on the coffee table.

Dessert was the last thing she wanted now. She felt nauseated, her stomach churning, and all she could think of was escape. Signing the bill, she gave the man a tip and closed the door, and then immediately put the strawberries in the fridge. She couldn't even look at them.

What was Logan thinking? Did he blame her? Did he want her gone? How was he handling the inevitable questions, the speculation, and the jabs from the other players?

Picking up the glass of wine, she took a big sip. Even though she was tempted to go to her room, pull the covers over her head, and wait until the morning to face him, she couldn't. She owed it to him to hear him out, to let him vent his anger. Even if he was pissed enough to dismiss her, she had to try to explain that her motives had been good. Groaning out loud, she sank back down onto the sofa and waited.

It was going to be a long night.

Logan was surprised to see Isabella was still up when he returned to the hotel. He swore to himself, aware that he had been counting on her to be asleep, giving him some time to cool down. Instead, she was fucking front and center in the tiny hotel room, obviously determined to say her peace.

“Logan, I'm so sorry,” she said softly.

“I guess it's a little too late for that now. You did what you wanted and fuck what I thought. Unfortunately, I'm the one going to pay for it.”

He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice. In truth, it was a damn nightmare. The other players had grown quiet when he entered the locker room, but he had been able to see their glances and hear their whispered jokes at his expense.

He had stated from the beginning that bringing the two of them on the road was a bad idea, but even he hadn't imagined he'd be outed so quickly.

Instead of defending her position, which he expected, her eyes closed and he saw the pain on her face. Christ, was she crying? Over him? Before he could process that, she spoke once more.

“I had no idea something like this would happen. I just wanted you to see how easy it was for the baby to be part of your life. You have to believe me.”

It was her expression that did him in, the tone of her voice, and the absolute sincerity of her words. But he was still pissed.

“Our coach seems to think you came today for some damn publicity stunt. As if I would want this shit? For any of us, including you and Cinnamon, for God sake? He threatened my fucking job, thinks I'm a distraction to the team. As if I give a fuck.”

She looked horrified as she came to stand before him. “I'll talk to him. Explain. Tell him it was my idea, that you had nothing to do with it.”

“You'd do that?” Logan asked, incredulous. Most of the women he'd known would slit their throat before getting involved in a confrontation. Especially if it didn't directly involve them.

Maybe she had more guts than most women.

Maybe he meant more to her than just an employer?

Isabella nodded and she lifted her eyes to his. “You shouldn't have to suffer because of me. Of this. It was a total lack of judgment on my part. I've been thinking about it, and I get it if you would rather work with someone else. I'll call Patty tomorrow, ask her to reassign someone—”

That was as far as she got.

“You aren't calling anybody,” he growled, pulling her into his arms. “You're the best damned thing that ever happened to Cinnamon. And me. I'm lucky to have you on my team, and I'd be a fool not to know it. And I'm no fucking fool.”