“Where is your room?” I asked, knowing he was behind me, feeling his massive presence without having to turn around.
“Across the hall,” he said, his voice low, guttural.
The rooms with no water view.
“You could’ve taken this one,” I said, slowly turning around. A coiling, deep in my core, tightened as I saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, those glacial blue eyes solely on me.
Damn him.
Damn him for being more gorgeous than any man should be.
Sure, there was a brutalness to his sharp edges, his muscles, those eyes that screamed they’d seen more than their fair share of darkness, but there was also warmth and kindness and gentleness that radiated from him too. I think the combination—the terror that warned people to stay away and that smoothness that drew me in—was what had my head spinning.
That, or it could be the fact that it had been literally years since I’d felt a flicker of a flame of desire for anyone, and this man…this edged, giant of a man had been so kind to Elliott, so kind to me, that I couldn’t possibly not be drawn to him.
“You deserve this,” he said, taking another step toward me. So close I had to arch my neck to meet his eyes. “And Elliott,” he added, something like delight dancing across his eyes. “It’s good to get away from the city now and then. Rediscover your own humanity and all that. Not constantly work.”
I rose a brow. “You practice or work out every single day. You work harder than I do.”
He shook his head. “My job is easy.”
I huffed a laugh.
“It is,” he said. “It’s muscle memory and focus and determination. It’s instinct and survival and shooting for the win. It’s—”
“Primal,” I cut him off, knowing there was likely no other word to better describe the man in front of me.
A small, almost imperceptible grin crooked his lip.
“Exactly. Primal,” he said, his voice so low and growly that a chill raced down my spine. “And your profession?” He cocked that brow, the one with the scar dissecting it. “It’s all of those things and more. The work you do…helping people and saving kids and…” he sighed. “It’s emotional and exhausting and takes every single thing from you.”
I swallowed hard.
“And yet,” he continued. “You show up. Every day.”
“So do you,” I said. “Even when you’re literally beat down on the job.”
He snorted. The man actually snorted. “It’s a rare day on the ice that anyone is strong enough to get the drop on me.”
A shudder rippled through me. A mish-mash of fear and desire and respect and appreciation. I abhorred violence, couldn’t stand the thought of it, especially for sport. But I couldn’t deny the honesty in his words. No boasting, or posturing, simply fact. When it came to Hudson Porter, there was a low percentage of men that could stand toe-to-toe with him, let alone skate-to-skate. Not that I’d ever seen him play, and likely never would.
“I should change,” I finally said when the silence was too much for me to bare.
Another flash of a grin, this one more wicked than before.
Damn him.
“So I can go be with Elliott,” I said, clarified, whatever.
“I’ll meet you down there,” he said, never slipping his hands from those pockets as he sauntered toward the door, and then out of the room.
I blew out a breath and hurried to change into more comfortable beach clothes—a pair of white cotton shorts, sandals, and a breezy black top. I opted for contacts over my usual black-rimmed glasses, knowing with Elliott, any manner of balls would be flying toward me.
Hurrying downstairs and out of the resort, I found Elliott in the middle of a lively volleyball game against Porter and Connor. Lettie and Hannah were on her team.
“Need another player?” I asked, kicking off my sandals.
“That’s cheating!” Connor teased. “Four against two is hardly fair.”
“Don’t worry, Bridgerton,” Elliott said, and I almost laughed at how much she sounded like Porter in that moment. “She’s not any good.”
“Hey!” I chided, laughing as I swatted Elliott on her butt.
She giggled, tossing the ball back and forth. “What? You taught me never to lie!”
I rolled my eyes. Lord help me with this one. She was too smart for her own good.
“Maybe wait for the next game, Mom,” she said.
I gaped at her.
“Fine,” I said. “If no one wants me I’ll just go sun myself.” I turned to head to the oversize lounge chairs resting a few yards away from the beach net. The same ones Bailey and Paige were sprawled across.
“I want you,” Porter said, his words halting my movements in their tracks. A warmth sizzled through my blood, that coil inside me tightening another degree. “On my team,” he hurried to add, clearing his throat. “Our team,” he grunted when Connor cocked a brow at him.
“If she’s on your team,” Lukas called from behind me, his accent slightly thick as he stepped on the girls’ side of the net, shirtless. “Then I will delight in helping these girls crush you two goons.”
“You’re on,” Connor said. “Though, they could win without you.” He winked at Hannah, and that sweet gesture snapped me out of my stare-down with Porter. I shook off the shock of his words and skipped to their side of the net.
“She wasn’t lying,” I whispered to Porter. “I truly am awful.”
He shrugged, digging his feet in the sand, his calf muscles tensing as he shifted into some sort of readying position. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, glancing at me. “This is the side you need to be on.”
I wetted my lips, unable to take my eyes off him.
He motioned toward Elliott. “You can see her moves better from here,” he winked. “The girl hasn’t met a sport she can’t dominate.”
That was the truth, but I was still standing there struck by his words when she unleashed those awesome skills and spiked the ball…
Right in front of where I was standing.
The sand sprayed my bare legs from the impact, and I heard Lukas whistle at my complete lack of movement.
“Mom,” Elliott groaned.
“I wasn’t ready!” I laughed and kicked the ball under the net back toward her.
She scooped it up. “Are you ready now?”
I nodded, trying to mimic the power stances Porter and Connor donned. The motion earned me a goofy, almost sad smile from Elliott, and she handed the ball to Hannah for her turn to serve.
Twenty minutes later, I hadn’t exactly helped the team, but I hadn’t hindered it either. I managed to pop a couple balls to Connor, Porter in the position behind me. The sun had settled in the center of the sky, blazing us with such warm rays that the other guys had opted to lose their shirts too.
It was an effort not to be breathless—both because of the game and all the damned carved abs flying and flexing around me.
None were more defined than Porter’s—or maybe they were, but I wasn’t as drawn to them as I was to the giant behind me.
God, I wanted to keep looking over my shoulder just to sneak a peek of his gloriousness, but I kept my eyes firmly forward. Lukas was impeccable, more gracefully muscled than broad, but he didn’t make my stomach flip. Not even with the accent. That thought alone would’ve certainly had me thinking I was broken for good on men, but whenever I heard Porter move behind me, that flaming tingle shot up my spine. Over and over until I was spending so much time trying not to think about him and the way he was winding me up with no effort at all that I almost missed the ball Elliott spiked my way.
I snapped into action, shuffling backward to try and compensate for my near miss, and as I leaped to try and meet the ball, I crashed against a wall of muscle so fast and so hard that I brought us toppling to the sand.
Our limbs tangled, and Porter’s body was so massive over mine that he blocked out the sun, the bright rays illuminating his silhouette like some damned Greek
god. I humphed from the impact, from the weight of him that wasn’t at all unpleasant, and my hands flew to his chest automatically.
His skin was hot and smooth under my fingers, and the ink underneath them? I almost started tracing the bold lines and curves with my fingertips.
Good gracious, he smells good.
This close it was all I could breathe in—his scent of salt and sand and something close to pine.
“You okay?” he asked, hefting himself on his elbows, that delicious weight leaving my body so fast I almost whimpered.
Damn, it has been entirely too long.
My heart raced inside my chest so hard I was afraid he could feel it.
I laughed, almost a bit hysterically, and shook my head. “Fine,” I said. “Horrible at the game, like Elliott said, but fine.”
He smiled down at me, and that’s when I realized he’d made no move to stand up. Instead, those eyes were locked on mine, something churning behind them. He parted his lips to say more—
“Mom!” Elliott said, and it snapped the tether between us. Porter hopped up, offering a hand to tug me to my feet.
“Yes?” I asked, dusting the sand from my shirt and shorts.
“Your phone?” Elliott raised her brows at me.
I tilted my head at her.
“It won’t stop ringing.”
I blinked out of my haze and hurried across the sand to where I’d stashed my phone and bag on the lounge chair next to Bailey.
“Hello?” I answered quickly, not recognizing the number.
“Ms. Lansing?” Melisa’s voice was tear-soaked.
“What’s wrong? Is Liam okay?” I blurted out the words, panic seizing my muscles.
“He’s okay,” she said. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry to call like this.”
“It’s okay,” I said, my breath evening upon hearing the baby was okay. “What’s going on?” If she was calling my personal cell phone, on a Saturday, then something was definitely wrong.
“He found us.”
The terror in those words snapped something inside me.
I remembered that terror.
Felt it in my bones like a cold, slick oil that threatened to drown me.
“Is he there now?” I could sense Porter behind me, never intruding but close enough that if I needed him, one look was all it would take. The notion was new and comforting and confusing all at the same time.
“No,” she said, sucking in a sharp breath. “But he was here, trying to get in. Asking about me.”
I sighed, a little relief filling my lungs. The staff was trained not to disclose any information about the guests, not unless the guest listed someone to contact in case of emergencies or cleared them ahead of time.
“I have a shift in an hour,” she said. “But I’m terrified he’ll be on the street waiting for me. Waiting for Liam.” She huffed. “God, I’m being stupid. I’m sorry to bug you. I just…I didn’t have anyone else to call.”
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to make my voice as soothing as possible. “This is why I gave you my number. I’m here for you, Melissa. Hold on a minute.” I turned, my eyes falling on Elliott, who had resumed the game, Lukas taking Porter’s place on the opposite side.
My heart sank. I didn’t want to yank her from this just to situate her at our apartment while I went to help Melissa.
“Here,” Porter said, pressing his keys into my palm. “Go. I’ll take care of Elliott.”
“What?” I gaped at the keys in my hand.
“You’re needed,” he said, shrugging. “She’s safe with me. You know that much by now.”
“I know,” I said, and it was refreshing how truthful those words were. Elliott had spent plenty of time with Porter alone over the last month. Plus, she had the tracker on her constantly, not that I would ever doubt her in Porter’s care, but if she wandered off, I’d know. “You sure?” I fingered the keys in my hands.
This trip was already beyond generous of him and here I was ready to dash away at the drop of a hat. In his car, no less. The same one that cost more than my apartment.
“Go,” he said, reading the lines of debate on my face. “We’ll see you when you’re done. I’ll make sure she doesn’t stay up past one.” He winked, and the joke eased the tension in my chest.
I brought the phone back to my ear. “Melissa, I’m on my way.”
We hung up, and I hurried over to Elliott, filling her in and making sure she was okay with it. I had little doubt, but I always wanted her time spent with anyone else to be her choice. And of course, she would choose a beach house full of Sharks over sitting in our cramped apartment all alone.
“Thank you,” I said to Porter as I hustled into the resort to change.
I was on the road in less than five minutes.
On the road in a massive Mercedes filled with all things Porter.
His smell, taunting and teasing with each mile I put behind me. The effect somehow soothing the anxiety as I traveled toward Melissa, hoping my support and help would be enough to ease her fears.
Because that was the key in her getting out.
Getting free.
Owning her strength and taking back her life.
And doing it alone took ten times longer.
I knew that all too well.
Chapter 5
Hudson
By nine-thirty, the kids were in bed, and the adults had either coupled off or were sitting by the bonfire down on the beach. Shea still hadn’t returned.
I wasn’t worried. I knew she was just as much about her career as I was mine, and she’d take exactly how much time she needed to assure she’d taken care of whatever situation she was facing. Besides, Elliott had blended in with the other kids pretty seamlessly, especially with a couple of the older girls of the veteran players.
Too bad it was likely those guys would be cut after this season, or rather announce their retirement. The sport was brutal, and not just on bodies. It was time away from family—from wives, kids, girlfriends…fiancées. Hell, I knew that last one all too well, and what happened when the loneliness set in.
Yeah, hockey broke more than bones. It pulverized hearts.
Hence the pre-season getaway.
The resort was massive, and perfect for this weekend. God knew it would be one of the only gameless weekends that we had to spend with family once practice started next week.
Then it was pretty much balls to the wall until May…well, hopefully, May. There was nothing like winning a Stanley Cup, and I was all-in to defend our title.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Gentry asked as he came out onto the deck, a fresh beer dangling by its neck between his fingers.
“Not much,” I answered, leaning on the massive railing of the wraparound deck.
“Brooding?” He leaned in next to me.
“I’m not always brooding.”
“True. Only about ninety-nine percent of the time.”
“I’d go with ninety-eight.”
He shot me a side glance. “Coming down?” he motioned to the bonfire.
“Not yet. Just waiting to make sure Shea gets back safely.” I could lie and say I was up here contemplating the meaning of life, but the truth—it opened the door to be given a massive amount of shit by the guys.
Shit-giving was acceptable, though. It meant you’d been accepted, and having come from Ontario—who I guess was now my rival, I didn’t take it for granted.
“Shea.”
“Yep.”
“And you let her take your car, right?”
I shot him a look, and he shrugged. “Lukas,” he said in way of explanation.
“She’s a social worker. She had an emergency. She took my car.”
He put his hands up, beer and all. “Hey, I’m all for it.”
“Really?”
“Man, it’s not like you mess around. You’ve been here over six months, and I’ve never seen you take a girl home from the bar, or a game, or…anywhere. If you brought her here, and let h
er take your car, I’m assuming it’s not just sex.”
My eyes narrowed, and he backed away.
“Right. So. Bonfire, you know, if you want…or not, it’s your choice. Of course. Continue brooding.” He gave me a two-fingered salute, still holding the bottle, and headed down the steps to the beach.
My phone buzzed, and I looked quickly to see if it was Shea.
It wasn’t.
Natalie: Are you ever going to answer me? How can you throw away YEARS over a simple mistake?
I scoffed. Simple mistake, my ass.
My finger hovered over the message, but the truth was, I’d said all I’d had to say without ever speaking a word.
“There you are.”
I pocketed my cell and turned to see Shea walk out from the living room. She was dressed in the shorts she’d had on earlier, and the tie from her swimsuit rose from the neckline of her shirt.
“There you are,” I replied softly, leaning back against the railing. “How are you?”
“Starving.” She lifted a brownie in her hand and devoured it with her eyes. “How was Elliott?”
“Perfect and already in bed.” The corners of my mouth lifted. “We grilled steaks for dinner. I can warm you up some, or even grill you a fresh one.”
“No worries, I’m way too into this chocolate.” She broke off a corner of the brownie and popped it between her lips.
“Oh, God,” she moaned.
Boom. Immediately harder than the fucking support beams.
“Good?” I cleared my throat and adjusted my stance to hide what was soon going to be a big problem if I couldn’t get myself under control.
“Who made these? Because I’m going to marry them.”
I’d never wanted to bake before, but damn if I wasn’t going to learn.
“Uh, I think those are Jeanine’s.”
“The chef?” she asked, breaking off another bite as she walked toward me.
“Yep, that’s her.” Maybe she gave lessons. I was going to have to find out immediately just so I could hear that sound out of Shea’s mouth again.
“God, this is better than sex.” She took the space next to me, facing out toward the ocean while I turned toward her.
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