Taylor’s smile faltered, her small shoulders sagging in disappointment. Her mother didn’t say anything, just kept looking at him with that angry expression as she fought with the laces of Taylor’s skate. JP shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then ran a hand through his hair.
Now what?
"Still having trouble with that skate, I see. Need a hand?"
Taylor nodded and swung her foot toward him, earning a look of displeasure from her mother. JP ignored it and bent down, his fingers making quick work of loosening the laces so she could get her foot in all the way. He pulled the laces tight, wrapping the excess around the top of the boot and tying them before tucking the ends in. He double-checked the laces of her other skate then patted her on the shoulder. "There, all set."
"Thanks John Peer." Taylor jumped from the bench and gave him a quick hug, then grabbed her stick and headed for the ice. JP stood there, his hands by his side, fighting the urge to fidget as Taylor’s mom stared at him.
She looked like an older version of Emily. Shorter hair, a little darker. Her eyes were the same shape but the color was different, the blue reminding him of stormy seas. Her face was sharper and there was an edge to her that let him know she rarely smiled. Her lips compressed in a tight line as she crossed her arms in front of her and watched him with narrowed eyes.
JP shifted, uncomfortable under her cold scrutiny. They had been introduced once before, but the introduction had been hurried, too short. Maybe a formal one would set the woman at ease. Or at least lessen her frown. He thought about extending his hand then reconsidered. "I’m Jean-Pierre Larocque."
"I know who you are."
JP nodded, not sure what to say. His gaze moved to the players on the ice and he stood there for a few minutes, watching. "Your daughter is very talented."
The woman didn’t say anything, didn’t even look over at the ice. A long minute went by before she spoke, her voice as chilled as the air in the rink. "Why are you here?"
"I came to talk about your sister. About Emily."
"Tired of her already?"
"Excuse me?" JP actually took a step back, her words a verbal punch. He jammed his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes. Her face paled, just a little, enough to assure him that she realized he didn’t appreciate her words. "I came to apologize for coming between you and Emily. That was not my intention."
"Really?" Her cool gaze drifted over him, from his face to his shoes and back up again. She shrugged and looked away. "She made her choice."
"It wasn’t a choice she should have had to make. You’re her sister. Do you really feel that way?"
"She was the one who moved out. Now if you’ll excuse me—"
JP didn’t think, just reached out to grab her arm. He didn’t expect her to shrink away, didn’t expect the look of fear that crossed her face, almost too fast to see. But he did see, and felt nausea well in his gut. He dropped her arm and stepped back, swallowing the bitter acid that worked its way into his mouth. He ran a hand through his hair, swallowed again. "I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—"
Monica shook her head, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle, her lips pressed more tightly together. But she didn’t say anything, barely even acknowledged him.
JP blinked and looked out at the ice, something close to horror filling him. Just that small movement, that brief glance, was enough to tell him…too much. "I’m not your ex-husband. I would never hurt Emily."
"But you did. Five years ago. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what she went through. I was. I was the one who was with her when she miscarried, the one who held her when she cried after losing it."
Anger, swift and biting, shot through him. How could she be so cold? So unfeeling? "Not it. Her. Gabriella Jeane Larocque. She was my daughter, our daughter, not an ‘it’."
"You think I should be impressed you know her name? Well, I’m not, Mr. Larocque. So take your empty words and leave. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces when you break Emily’s heart. Again."
"I’m not going anywhere."
"Aren’t you?" She raked him with that cold stare again, her eyes flat, emotionless. "It’s just a matter of time. It always is."
"You can’t judge everyone based on your own experience."
"Is that what you think I’m doing?" She laughed, the sound harsh and brittle. "I’m not. I’m judging you on your past actions."
"I love Emily. I’m not going anywhere."
"I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. I know about you. About your reputation, about all the women you’ve been with. You’re a player, Mr. Larocque. I tried telling Emily that but she’s too naïve to believe me. So I’ll do what I do best, and let her make her mistakes, then help her pick up the pieces of her life. Again."
JP watched her for a long minute, then gazed out at the ice. Emotions warred inside him. Guilt, again. Anger. Fear. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sounds around him. Was she right? Would he hurt Emily again?
An image formed in his mind, of Emily’s smile, of her deep blue eyes pulling him in, reassuring him. The sound of her laughter filled his ears, clear and pure. His heart raced in his chest as warmth spread throughout him, calming, peaceful. He shook his head and opened his eyes, then faced her sister once more.
"You’re wrong. I’ve made mistakes in the past. We all have. But I love Emily. She’s the better half of me. And I will never do anything to hurt her. I’m sorry you don’t believe that." JP stepped past her, tempted to keep walking. But he stopped. He had come here for another reason, he couldn’t leave until he was done.
Thinking he’d probably regret it, he turned back to Monica, surprised at the glimpse of emotion he saw on her face before she dropped that cold mask back in place. He pulled out the small card from his back pocket and dropped it on top of Taylor’s gear bag. "We’re having a get-together at my house on Christmas Eve. Seven o’clock. Nothing fancy. You and Taylor are both invited. I know Emily would love for both of you to be there. Especially Taylor. She misses her niece."
JP didn’t wait for her response, knowing he wouldn’t get one. He had done what he came here to do and had learned too much in the process. He turned and walked out, feeling the burn of stormy gray eyes in the middle of his back long after he pushed through the doors.
Chapter Thirty-One
JP propped both elbows on the bar and stared into the glass in front of him. He barely had two sips of it in the hour he was here, and couldn’t remember why he had even ordered it.
Oh, wait. He hadn’t ordered it.
"So are you going to talk, or just sit there and brood some more?"
"Hm?"
"Oh for shit’s sake. Give me that." Randy reached in front of him and grabbed the glass, pulling it toward him.
"Hey. If he’s not going to drink it, I will." Mat leaned across JP, reaching for the glass. JP shoved, pushing Mat back onto his stool before the beer ended up in his lap. And wouldn’t that be the perfect ending to this night?
"Here, take it. I’m not going to argue over warm beer, especially not when I can just go around the bar and pour a fresh one."
"Dude, isn’t that like drinking the profits or something? You shouldn’t be doing that."
"For fuck’s sake, Herron. Stop with the ‘dude’. Dude this, dude that. You sound like an idiot."
"What the hell?"
"Would you two knock it the fuck off? I don’t even know why I came here." JP pushed away from the bar, ready to slide off his stool and leave. Coming here had been a stupid idea. He didn’t want to be here, not when he could just as easily meet Emily had her hotel.
That stupid, damn hotel. He still didn’t understand why she insisted on staying there, not when she could be staying with him. At least she had agreed to hold-off on the apartment hunting. For now. But even JP knew that was only temporary, because hotels cost money. Each night. Why should Emily spend that kind of money when she could be in her own apartment?
Or living with him.
&
nbsp; Randy grabbed his arm, holding him in place before he could slide from the stool. "So what is wrong with you, Larocque?"
"Emily moved out of her sister’s place because of me."
Randy shifted, his glance sliding to Mat before resting on JP again. "Okay, yeah. You kind of figured that out already though, right? Because you said as much last night."
"Yeah. Maybe. I guess. I didn’t know for sure until tonight, though. I went to see her sister."
Mat let loose a low whistle, a sound that only succeeded in grating on JP’s already stretched nerves. "Dude—sorry. I mean, why did you do that?"
"Because Emily is miserable and misses her sister and her niece and I thought, well, I thought it would help if I talked to her."
"Yeah? How’d that work out?"
JP looked over at Randy and wanted to smack the disbelieving look off his smug face. He grabbed the glass of beer instead and took a long swallow, grimacing at the bitterness of the room temperature brew.
"She hates me. She thinks I’m going to break Emily’s heart. Again."
"So that sucks." Mat pulled the bowl of mixed nuts closer to him and reached in, grabbing a handful. JP knocked his hand away, scattering the nuts across the bar. "What was that for?"
"For being a connard, eh?"
"Christ. Like it’s my fault she doesn’t like you?"
"Mat, just shut up." Randy tossed a few napkins at him then turned back to JP. "So what’d you do?"
"I told her I wasn’t like her ex and that I loved Emily."
"Dude, you actually told her that? That you loved her sister?"
Randy reached around JP and smacked Mat upside the head with the palm of his hand. He didn’t wait for Mat to respond, just turned back to JP and studied him, his gaze hooded, cautious. "What does the ex have to do with anything?"
"Her sister thinks all men are like her ex. And—" JP took a deep breath, paused, downed another swallow of the beer. "I think he used to hit her."
"What the fuck?" The twin expressions of disbelief echoed around him in stereo, muttered by both men at the same time. JP nodded and looked down at the glass in his hand, remembering the brief expression of horror and fear that had crossed Monica’s face when he grabbed her arm. His hand tightened around the glass, imagining it was the throat of the nameless, faceless ex.
All three of them were quiet for several long minutes, not knowing what to say. There was no doubt in JP’s mind that his two teammates were thinking the same thing he was, though. As rough as they could get on the ice, as rough as they could joke around, you didn’t hit a woman. Period.
"I take it he hasn’t been around for a while?"
JP drained the glass and shook his head. "At least a couple of years, from what I understand. I don’t know much about the whole situation and didn’t think it was a good time to ask."
"A good thing, then."
"Yeah, I guess."
"So did you get anything settled with her sister?"
"No. Pretty sure she still hates me."
"That sucks."
JP looked over at Mat, his brows raised in surprise at the stupidity of the comment. "You think?"
"So now what?"
"So now…I’m having a party on Christmas Eve."
"What?" Mat’s confusion was clear in both his voice and his expression. Randy didn’t do much better in hiding his own confusion.
"And the party at my place is now—?"
"Uh, cancelled. I guess."
"Hey, no problem. Less work for me. I just don’t understand how moving the party to your place is going to help with anything."
"I kind of invited Emily’s sister. You know, holidays and families and all that shit. I thought she might agree to come if it was at my place."
"Did she?"
"Well, no. But that doesn’t mean she won’t."
"Doesn’t mean she will. Do yourself a favor: don’t tell Emily. You don’t want to disappoint her in case she doesn’t show."
"I know." JP ran both hands through his hair then hung his head. Had he only succeeded in making things worse by going to see Emily’s sister? Not that they could really be worse. But what if he had? "Shit. What the hell did I just do?"
"What do you mean?" The question came from Mat, who was again reaching for the bowl of mixed nuts.
"If I’m having everything at my place, I need to decorate."
"Seriously? You haven’t decorated for Christmas yet?"
"No. I never do. Why bother, when it’s just me? Wait, let me guess. You do."
Mat looked up, his gaze drifting between JP and Randy. He tossed a handful of nuts into his mouth and chewed, then shrugged. "Of course I do. It’s Christmas. You have to decorate at Christmas."
JP opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t think of a retort strong enough so he just shook his head. Again. He slid off the stool and looked at Randy. "Can you let everyone know about the change?"
"Yeah, no problem."
"And you need to tell the single guys who are coming: no bimbos, no puck bunnies. They need to bring respectable dates or come solo."
Randy laughed and pointed at Mat. "Guess that means you’re coming solo, huh?"
"What? I can find a respectable date."
"Yeah, sure you can."
"Hey, what’s the supposed to mean?"
Randy ignored him and looked over at JP. "Where are you off to?"
"To go see Emily, see if I can convince her to move out of that damn hotel."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Numbers blurred together on the screen, columns and rows repeating one after the other, morphing into one giant mess until Emily couldn’t even tell what she was looking at.
Not a good thing, considering she was the one who had created the report.
She tossed the pen onto her notebook and pushed both to the edge of the desk before closing the laptop lid. The chair squeaked when she moved—which meant it squeaked a lot. This wasn’t her desk, her chair, her home office. And she missed the large monitor of her desktop computer. Her laptop was a newer and larger model, but still didn’t compare to her desktop, not when she was working with all the different reports and spreadsheets she needed.
Which probably explained the headache building behind her eyes.
Emily sighed and pushed away from the desk, wincing at the chair’s squeak when she stood. She walked the three feet to the tiny kitchenette and leaned down to open the small refrigerator. Water, water, and more water. And a pint of half-and-half for her morning coffee. Yeah, all the comforts of home.
She pulled out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap, leaning against the small counter as she drank. What was she doing here? It was after ten o’clock on a Thursday night. Normally, she’d just be settling in after getting home from Taylor’s hockey practice.
Sadness flowed through her. She hadn’t seen her niece in over a week, hadn’t talked to her sister in that same time. Emily missed the routine. Missed her niece, missed the normally uneventful flow of her life. Instead of being home, she was here, in a generic, sterile hotel room.
Except home wasn’t home. Not anymore. Maybe not for a long time. She couldn’t go back. Yes, she knew she could talk to Monica, reach something resembling a truce. But she couldn't be comfortable there, not any longer, not when she knew it was only a matter of time before there was another argument with her sister.
If not about JP, then about something else. Emily hadn’t wanted to admit that before. She didn’t have any choice but to admit it now, not when the rift between the two of them was so wide.
That didn’t stop her from missing Monica, from missing the relationship she used to have with her sister. When had things changed? When JP came back into the picture? No, before that. Long before that. They had drifted apart, lost touch as sisters despite living together. Emily was wrapped up in work and taking care of Taylor, making sure her niece was happy and secure. And Monica was too wrapped up in her own work, worried about the future while fighting the de
mons of her own past.
Would it help if Emily called her? Not yet. It was too soon, for both of them. Maybe in a few weeks.
She couldn’t go home. Not yet, maybe not ever. And she certainly couldn’t stay here, not for much longer. An extended-stay hotel might be a little cheaper than a regular hotel, but it still added up. Which meant she needed to look for an apartment, not something she especially looked forward to with the holidays coming up.
And there was another cheery thought. Christmas was in two weeks. The way things were going, Emily would probably be alone, without her family, for the holiday.
She blew out a deep breath then capped the water bottle and put it back in the mini-fridge. Brooding wasn’t helping anything, especially not her mood. It would be better to lose herself in work for right now, get her mind off everything else that seemed to be pulling her in a hundred different directions.
The soft knock at the door startled her, but only for a second. She walked over and looked through the small peephole, knowing beforehand who she would see. Despite her somber mood, a small smile came to her face when she opened the door and saw JP standing in the hall, his leather jacket open over a soft thermal Henley the color of charcoal, his hands shoved into the back pockets of his faded jeans.
Would she ever get used to the heat in his eyes when he looked at her? God, she hoped not. She loved him. Despite everything that had happened between them—or maybe because of it—she loved him.
"Hey."
"Hey." His gaze traveled over the length of her body, igniting sparks of excitement and tingles of awareness everywhere he looked. His eyes darkened, the brown turning warm, smoky, when he finally met her gaze. "Are you going to make me stand out here all night?"
Emily leaned against the doorframe and looked up, her lips pursed as if she was thinking. "I don’t know. Maybe—"
JP grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, claiming her mouth in a hot kiss that melted her inside and out. Her hands closed over his shoulders, her fingers digging into the soft leather that still held some of the chill of the dark night outside. His tongue swept into her mouth, teasing, possessing, and a soft little groan escaped from her on a sigh as she leaned into him.
Break Away (The Baltimore Banners Book 5) Page 19