“Who are you?” Heather breezed through the door and stopped about two feet in front of Julia, who was trying to escape the room. Escape the drama.
Escape me.
But she wasn’t the one I wanted gone.
“I was just leaving.” Julia ignored Heather’s glare as the other woman sized her up with her cerulean blue eyes.
I watched Julia slip from the room and my life. With class. I’d probably never see her again. Now why did that thought hurt more than the thought of the bitch standing beside my bed and her betrayal?
“Adam…please.”
Heather tried to take my hand and I snatched it away, crossing my arms over my chest in a defensive posture. Only a perverse curiosity to hear what lame excuse she’d come up with, coupled with an inability to think straight due to the pain kept me from tossing her out into the hallway on her skinny ass.
“Please what? But then, I already know. You thought when you walked in here, I’d be so overwrought from the accident, my injury, or both that I’d need you. Want you. Hold you. I’ve got news for you, Heather.” I narrowed my eyes at her round ones, the blue orbs pooled with tears. Another attempt at spouting her fake bullshit to pull at my heart strings. But my heart was dead. Dead to her.
“Wha … what?”
“I hate you.” I held my tone steady. Poisonous. Lethal. “Get the hell out of my hospital room. I never want to see you or my cock-sucking brother again. If you ever contact me, in any way, you’ll regret it.”
Tears streamed down her face as she stared at me in shock. I glared back at her and held my body motionless until she turned and pranced from the room, wiggling her backside, probably thinking I’d call her back. That would be a cold day in hell. Typical Heather. Trying to manipulate me to the bitter end. Only one good thing had come out of this whole sordid mess. From this day forward, I’d recognize a whore when I saw one.
I clamped my eyes shut until I heard the swish of the door closing behind her. Closing the door on the idyllic future, I’d imagined. The problem with the fantasy was that the reality hadn’t even come close to living up. Wanting to flee from the train wreck of my own life, I covered my face with my hands, trying to rub the shame and humiliation from my eyes. From my heart. From my soul.
My hand snaked out to grab the remote from the wheeled table. Feeling completely defeated, I flipped on the TV. The wreck was being discussed on almost every news channel I came across, and I couldn’t get away from it. So much for ESPN to carry me away from reality.
A nurse came in to check my vitals.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked.
“I’ve paged the doctor so he should be here soon,” she chastised. “You were lucky you weren’t seriously injured or killed. No broken bones, no internal injuries. You’re just bruised and battered which will heal in a few weeks. What’s your pain level?”
“A hundred and two.”
She smiled and pushed some meds into my I.V. “This should help. Just hit the buzzer if you need anything before the doctor arrives. You should be able to go home in the morning.”
Chapter 4
Adam
“I can probably argue it down to a misdemeanor but that’s going to take time,” My agent, Harold Tucker sat next to my hospital bed wearing the usual lawyer ‘you’ve seriously fucked up again’ expression. “And money.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against a wave of embarrassment. Harry had been my agent since draft day, and today was the first time we’d had any type of uncomfortable conversation.
“I know,” I sighed as I opened my lids to find Harry staring down at me with empathy instead of censure. At least I’ve got one person in my corner. “I guess I’m lucky I was injured so I didn’t have to face the humiliation of the Nick Nolte mugshot and fingerprinting by Duluth’s finest.”
Harry snapped his briefcase shut after collecting some signatures. “I took care of it. You won’t even have to go to the station. Since the semi driver wasn’t injured, this is a civil case.”
“He’s suing me then?” I questioned, a million dollar settlement running through my mind. “I realize I should never have gotten behind the wheel even to drive one farm over but isn’t he just out a new truck and a load of corn? Things covered by commercial insurance?”
Harry took his reading glasses off and shoved them in his interior jacket pocket as he speared me with a stern look. “Doesn’t matter. You’re rich. He’s not. Welcome to the world of professional hockey, my boy. Add to it the fact that you were drinking and I have a huge mess to clean up as well as a PR nightmare. Maybe I can get the public to feel sorry for you because of …”
Harry waved his hand toward my bum knee underneath the sheet.
“What?”
“The injury.”
I looked away, sick and damn tired of being reminded that I didn’t play in the NHL anymore. “No.”
“No, what?”
“No, I’m not playing on people’s sympathies about my career. Even to avoid a payday for The Jolly Green Giant.”
“Don’t let anyone else but me hear you talk like that, Adam,” Harry chided. “I’m in your corner. Other people … they tend to like to beat a man when he’s down.”
***
It hadn’t been difficult to get her number. Being famous sometimes had a few perks. Thoughts of her had consumed me the entire night in the hospital, and a compelling need to understand why she’d been sleeping in my hospital room.
Texting her with the pathetic excuse that I had no one to pick me up and take me to the salvage yard had worked like a charm. Julia Wales was nice. Too nice for the likes of me.
Now, ask me if I give a shit. I’m lonely and I’m hurt, so I’ll take my comfort where I can get it. Anywhere but in Heather’s clutches.
“Need a lift?” Julia called out the window with a smile as I pulled into the pick-up zone of the hospital. Damn the fact that her first sight of me today was in a wheelchair, like a damn invalid. Not the mental image I wanted her to have of me, because I wanted to be the star of her nightly in bed alone fantasies. Or maybe she wasn’t alone? Shit. I hadn’t even thought about a boyfriend or husband when I’d devised this grand plan. I glanced in the back seat of her vehicle, half expecting a huge guy to pop out and sucker punch me for hitting on his girl.
As Julia came around her Escape to grab the clear plastic drawstring bag holding my bloodstained clothes, I glanced at her left hand. Empty.
Hope springs eternal.
“Nice scrubs,” she commented with a laugh. “Couldn’t Heather or Mark bring you a change of clothes for the ride home?”
“I’m alone,” I replied as I clutched the plastic bag in my blue cotton clad lap. Something inside me needed to tell her that I’m now alone in the world. “There is no Heather. No Mark.”
She glanced over, her face a mask of confused concern. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
I instantly regretted the surly tone. This woman was going out of her way to help me. And her mere presence … well, it lit up my shitty day like the December sun on a fresh snow.
It was a beautiful Friday afternoon without a cloud in the sky. Chilly but not too bad. I needed to steer the conversation in a safe direction and also let her know I’m not a complete asshole.
“I’ve been hearing great things about you from the locals,” I commented. “They say what you did with the Miller barn conversion is nothing short of miraculous. Tilly Miller said it’s booked solid for weddings every Saturday for the entire year. I’m going to have to go over there and check it out.”
Julia’s face lit up at the compliment. I could tell she was passionate about her business. Judging by the photos I’d seen on her website and the ravings of the people in town, she had every right to be proud. She’d accomplished a lot in twenty-five years and was just getting started.
“So, where to?” she asked as she eased away from the curb.
“The salvage yard,” I offered. “I need to get some
things out of my truck. Then the farm.”
“Is there another vehicle there for you to drive?” She giggled and I found the sound intoxicating, heading straight south. Jesus, I needed to get a grip since I just got out of the hospital. “Besides the combine?”
“There is,” I smiled back, appreciating the easy banter. “But wouldn’t it be much more fun to pull up in front of Nan’s in the old John Deere as opposed to my ’62 Corvette convertible?”
“I’d like it.”
“Just the kind of stunt I might have pulled back in high school,” I said. “With your brother.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, keeping a tight grip on the steering wheel. “Blake’s got that same sense of humor. My dad says most of his grey hairs are courtesy of Blake.”
We went back and forth with escalating stories of Blake’s antics as I directed Julia to the local salvage yard where the tow had taken my totaled out Dodge. The drive only took about five minutes and I almost wished the salvage yard was further away. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed a conversation with a woman. Sharing laughs and a comfortable camaraderie.
The small SUV bounced over the potholes on the gravel road leading to the chain link fence, and I appreciated the view as her curvy body jiggled in all the right places. Shaking my head, I chastised myself to dial it back a notch. Jesus.
I’m being a complete reprobate. Twenty-four hours ago, I was engaged.
Julia pulled up to the office and switched the engine off as I slipped out. She waited patiently, deciding to stay put, and said she needed to answer some client e-mails. She was really excited about a farmhouse renovation she was starting next week. The old home needed some serious love and obviously, she was just the woman for that arduous task. It seemed that the more ramshackle the project, the more she loved the transformation. After her entertaining stories, I found I could listen to her all day when she talked about her work. Her life.
I walked with the owner of the yard to my crunched up truck and sighed. I’d really loved my wheels and now I’d have to replace them and deal with the annoying insurance companies as well as some bogus lawsuit. The hit to my wallet I could handle, but maybe not the one to my ego. As I ran a hand through my thick hair and sighed, I grabbed my Caribou duffle bag out of the extended cab and slammed the door. It immediately fell off the hinges and straight onto the dirt below.
“You’re lucky to be alive, dude,” the older man commented as he watched the fallout. “If you hadn’t been in a newer vehicle with all the safety features, this would have been much worse.”
“No doubt.” I didn’t need to have people keep telling me I’m a complete and total dipshit that put everything important to me on the line. Shit. I’d never driven drunk, even in high school and college. Damn Heather. And Mark.
Mostly, damn myself and my weakness for the wrong fucking woman.
I glanced up and found Julia bent over her iPhone, that cloud of silky, auburn hair floating around her torso, highlighting her full chest. She looked like an angel. My angel.
She jumped when the car door opened and slipped her phone into the center console. “Okay, I’ll need help navigating to your house,” she said as I slipped beside her and closed the door. “I have a general idea, but I’ve never been to your place.”
“It’s super easy,” I replied as she turned the ignition.
Julia pulled back onto the highway and toward a rural area at my direction. She slowed when we passed the scene of the accident. The roadway littered with glass and metal. The jackknifed semi had been removed, but a large tree, minus its branches, lay in the ditch.
Giving out a low whistle, I craned my neck for a better view. “I guess I am lucky to still be here. That doesn’t look good. Thank God no one was hurt.”
“Yeah, you’re really lucky,” Julia commented as she started up the long, gravel driveway. Then she turned her face toward me and I took that opportunity to get lost in the depths of her hypnotic eyes.
“So, how did you manage to get my personal cell number?”
“I have my ways,” I admitted with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Sometimes, it’s good to be a local hero. Everyone steps forward to help you.”
“That’s not fair,” she admonished. “You’re supposed to use your celebrity for good and not evil.”
“I did use it for good,” I said softly. “Julia, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you agreed to pick me up from the hospital. For some strange reason, I feel safe when I’m with you. Like you’re not going to sell me out. Or hate me. I haven’t put my best foot forward lately.”
She blushed that delicious shade of rose again. The same one that looked like she’d been fucked senseless and had just come all over me, screaming my name.
Stop it, Spencer.
“I was happy to help out an old … friend.”
“I hope your boyfriend didn’t mind,” I said, my eyes searching hers. Fishing. Hoping.
“I don’t have one right now,” she announced without pausing. Then quickly recovered. “I work really long days. It wouldn’t be fair to pull another person into that.”
Was that her way of issuing a subtle warning to back off? Message received. I’ll move at a turtle’s pace, but you won’t get rid of me that easily.
“I’m glad someone isn’t going to show up here with a baseball bat or a twelve gauge,” I joked. “Besides, I figured you’d be the best choice since you’ve already seen me in my stylish hospital wear.”
“Excuse me,” she snorted. “You’re the one who stopped me from leaving. And I think you looked kind of cute in that ensemble. In fact, I think we should check with Sue Ann and see if she could carry something similar in the boutique. It would literally fly off the racks.”
I loved how we’d already settled into the comfortable back and forth teasing pattern. And playfulness. Nothing serious. Just what I needed right now to distract me from the complete shit storm my life had become in the space of twenty four hours.
“Sue Ann, now that’s a blast from the past,” I said, rubbing my chin at the memory. “Her boutique is doing well? Hopefully better than that time in Mr. Shelton’s biology lab when I accidentally put potassium in the beaker with water and caused a minor explosion?”
“You know, for someone who is supposed to be shy, you sure do talk a lot of smack,” she stated as she pulled the vehicle to a stop in front of my porch. “Like my equally annoying brother.”
“He is kind of a pain,” I said with a laugh. “But I miss him.”
“Wow...this is so homey. Like an old painting,” she exclaimed softly as she stepped out and closed the car door. “I didn’t expect a small town hero like yourself would stay here. Not when you can afford a mansion on the hill.”
“Why?” I asked, liking the look of appreciation on her face as she inspected my home. “You think an old farm kid like me should move off to the city just because I made it to the NHL?”
“Isn’t that what most athletes do?”
“Yeah, I guess they do.” I chuckled, thinking about stereotypes. I’d never bought in. “I don’t know, I really never fitted into the whole city life. This … well, it feels like home. It is home.”
We made our way up the porch and through the cedar plank door with a stained glass insert. There was even an old-fashioned, brass dinner bell hanging from the porch roof. If Julia had noticed Heather’s shit littered all over my lawn and trees, she’d had the grace not to mention it. Or stare.
Another tally for her in the positive attribute column.
I glanced around my house like I was seeing it for the first time. Through her eyes. My mom’s face stared back everywhere I looked. Her touches were everywhere. I’d never sell my place. Never leave. The oak floor planks that my grandpa had laid himself, each ding and scrape in the boards had a story to tell. The story of my family.
“This house is stunning, Adam,” she exclaimed. “I can feel the love here, even though you’re the only one living here now.”
“It reminds me of them,” I replied, moving in her direction like a moth to the flame. I walked over to the exposed brick fireplace and ran my fingers along the oak mantle. “I miss them. Every moment of every day.”
Julia walked toward me. Closer. Until I could feel the heat radiating off my skin and feel her feminine energy permeate my personal space. It felt like an electric shock when she reached out and wrapped her fingers around my forearm. The simple gesture was one of support, but to me, it felt intimate. And hot. Like I’d been branded. I put my hand over hers, then laced our fingers together.
“Come with me,” I said, tugging her along behind me. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I led the way out of the back of the house to the old, red, two-story barn, my hand never releasing hers. It felt so good to touch her. So damn right. I’d never felt that way touching Heather. She’d roused my passion, but never my protective side. With Julia, I wanted to tuck her head in the crook of my shoulder and never let anything hurt her ever again.
Not one fucking time had I ever felt compelled to pull Heather close in a non-sexual way. That should have been my first clue. In hindsight, I remembered a number of red flags that I’d swept under the rug. Never again.
Heather had liked being in control of our relationship, and I’d let her call the shots and protect her image as Duluth’s old money. Her family traced their lineage back to the glory days of iron ore shipping. Come to think of it, I’d always felt like a backwards hick every single time I’d set foot in her family’s mansion on first street.
Julia didn’t come from Heather’s world, either. Her family was strictly middle class and hard working. Like my own had been.
I lifted the wooden bar and swung the double doors wide as I stepped aside for Julia to precede me. Inside, hanging from the upper rafters was a tractor tire on sturdy rope. It could hold three kids or two adults comfortably. Back in grade school, Mark and I had taken bets over how many kids we could fit in it and still swing. The record still held at ten.
Julia gasped and clapped her hands together as another one of those knee-weakening smiles turned her lush lips upward. All I could think about was kissing her. Somehow, I’d already known she’d love it in here. Maybe it was her reaction to the outdoors on the ice rink so long ago. Maybe it was her caring enough to see if I’d made it through the accident unscathed. I didn’t care. All I knew was that I wanted to swing again. With Julia. Like if I could fly through the air, I’d forget everything that happened. Forget yesterday.
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