Dani went to sit on the bed and Abigail quickly reached out to stop her. “Let’s go out in the kitchen,” she said. Those sheets needed to be washed right away. She was surprised her daughter couldn’t smell the lingering scent of Jackson’s cologne in the room. It was the only scent filling her senses and conjuring up flashbacks that really weren’t appropriate while talking to her daughter.
She sighed. Maybe washing the sheets could wait a little longer…
Once she’d set the coffee maker and popped two waffles into the toaster, she sat at the table. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“The father-daughter dance is in two weeks…”
Right, the one she’d been too nervous to talk to Dani about. The one she’d been hoping they could bypass. She’d emailed Dean the week before about it, but the email had come back undelivered. Obviously he wasn’t interested in any contact from her, which would suit her just fine if they didn’t have a nine-year-old to think about. Her annoyance rose, but she forced it back down as she said, “Honey, I did email your dad…”
Dani’s eyes lit up. “What did he say? Can he make it? I know the Kings are playing the Rangers the night before, but if he comes straight from New York, he could be here for the dance, then be here for the next evening’s game against Denver.”
Damn. She’d obviously put a lot of thought into this. How did she tell her the email had bounced back? She stood as the coffee maker beeped, giving her a moment to think about what to say. “Um…well, he’s not sure, but he’s going to try,” she lied finally, unable to break her daughter’s heart that morning. She’d find a way to get the information to Dean and try to explain to him how important it was to Dani.
Maybe Jackson could call him.
Sure, and he could let him know he’d slept with his ex-wife at the same time. She wondered if Jackson would have any guilt over it. Oddly enough, she had none.
“Great. I know he’s busy, so it’s not a big deal if he can’t,” Dani said, breaking into her thoughts. She took the waffles out of the toaster and opened the fridge. “Where’s the maple syrup?”
“Sorry, sweetie. I haven’t gone shopping yet.” She gestured around the messy kitchen, where spices cluttered the counters and pots and pans still hadn’t found a home. “As you can see, I haven’t really gotten far with the unpacking. I was lucky to get my room set up…” She stopped. Lucky? Maybe if her bed hadn’t been so accommodating, they’d have come to their senses the night before.
An image of Jackson’s sexy-as-hell body flashed in her mind, followed by the memory of his gentle, yet passionate touch. He’d always had feelings for her. He’d always wanted her.
She covered her smile with her coffee cup.
Then again, probably not.
* * *
Parked on the side of the road several blocks from the house and pulling on his jeans, Jackson almost laughed. He’d had his share of awkward mornings after, but this was admittedly the first time the woman had thrown his clothes out the window and made him crawl out in only his underwear, which he’d discovered he’d put on inside out.
It didn’t matter. The night before had been worth it.
Grinning like an idiot, he pulled his shirt on over his head. He’d spent the night with Abby. The sex had been everything he’d imagined it would be. Her body was like silk, and the lingering effects of the L.A. sun still kissed her skin, giving her a beautiful glow. Soft in all the right places, curves that left him defenseless, and a passion he’d never expected had made every one of his fantasies come to life.
She’d wanted him. That was the biggest surprise. And while he suspected she was struggling with conflicting emotions that morning, she couldn’t deny that there had been a connection far beyond the physical between them the night before.
A second later, his cell phone rang, interrupting the old country song on the radio. A glance at the display on the dash revealed Dean’s number. His gut twisted. Shit. The only person who could bring him down from the high he was on. He let the call go to voicemail.
So he’d chickened out. There was no way he could talk to his buddy that morning.
He was surprised Dean was even calling him at all. The last time they’d spoken, his friend had been abrupt and distant.
He pulled away from the curb and drove down the quiet neighborhood streets, allowing his thoughts to return to the night before.
He’d had sex with Abby Jansen.
She was even more fantastic than he’d ever imagined. Her touch was magnetic, her kiss was intoxicating, and the way she’d whispered his name had been enough to silence any doubt or reservation he may have had about being with her.
Now he had to make her realize they were right for one another.
More to forget about…she’d said.
Nope. Just more to crave, more to long for…more at stake.
Damn.
His cell phone rang again as he turned the truck into his own driveway moments later. The generic ringtone and unfamiliar number lighting up the screen made him ignore it.
But the phone chimed with a new voicemail as he unlocked his apartment door. Tossing his keys onto the table in the entryway, he dialed the voicemail service.
“Jackson, this is Coach Turner from the Colorado Eagles. I’m calling to let you know about a closed tryout we’re holding for several flex positions on the team. Too many guys are getting injured and getting called up. Anyway, it’s not an open tryout. Invite only. Call me.”
Jackson saved the message as he headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. An invite to try out for his old team with a possibility of getting called up. He stared into the mirror, thinking about his brother’s words the week before. Did he still want to play professional hockey?
If he did, now was his chance to try again. A private tryout meant his odds of securing a spot on the team again were much higher than at an open tryout. And with guys getting called up, his experience might just put him on top of that list. He may not have played professionally for several years, but he was on the ice almost every day. And he’d been the team’s MVP player every year. He was still in decent shape, and with a few weeks of intense training…
But did he really want that chance anymore? Or was he finally ready to go after something else he’d always wanted?
An image of Abby sleeping next to him flashed in his mind, making his chest ache. Two dreams, always out of reach, were moving closer to reality. Which one did he work toward?
The problem was, he knew there was no way he could have both.
Chapter 15
So when you asked me to come over to help you put the crib together, what you actually meant was…”
“To watch you put the crib together,” Becky finished from her relaxed position in the rocking chair.
“Right. That’s what I thought. Do you think you could just hold this side in place while I use that tiny, impossible to use metal thing to fasten it together?”
“I guess so,” Becky said, struggling to get up from the chair.
Abigail secured the side and then stood back to examine her handiwork. Putting furniture together by herself was just one of the many things she’d gotten really great at doing with Dean on the road so much. “Not bad.” She shook it. Sturdy. Perfect.
“Thanks, Abby. I swear I wasn’t this big with Taylor, and I don’t remember that pregnancy being so draining, either.”
Abigail shot her a look. “Well, you are a little older this time,” she teased.
“Tell me about it.” She lowered her head. “Look at the gray hair. I swear they weren’t there last week, and of course I can’t dye my hair until after the baby is born.”
Abigail smiled, loving her friend’s dedication to doing everything by the book. In L.A. her hockey mom friends would never let a gray hair survive.
“Okay, what else did you need help with?” she asked, checking her watch. She needed to pick Dani up at school.
“If you could help me move the dresser over just
a little to make space for the new change table, that would be great,” she said.
“No problem.” Grabbing one end, she helped her friend slide it a fraction to the right.
“That’s great, thank you. I just really wanted the nursery to be set up before Neil comes home.”
Abigail nodded, though she would have thought Neil would want to help with the preparations for the new baby. Then again, Dean had always been okay leaving everything up to her. Noticing a small wooden jewelry box on the corner of the dresser, she picked it up. “Hey, I have one just like this.” The pine box was stained a light golden color with Becky’s initials and a flower carved in the top. “Only mine has my initials on it.”
“Ah, so that’s where the third one went,” Becky said with a grin.
Abigail frowned. “Third one? What do you mean?”
“Jackson made three in woodworking class senior year. He gave one to Mom and another to me for Christmas, but I never knew what he did with the third one.”
Abigail felt a rush of heat flow through her at the mention of Jackson, and she looked away quickly, hoping her friend—his sister—didn’t notice. “Mine was from Dean,” she said. “They must have all had the same projects.”
Becky shook her head. “These had to be their own unique design,” she insisted. “In fact, I remember Dean made hockey sticks. He gave them to Jackson, Ash, and Ben as Christmas presents the same year.”
Abigail started to shake her head, but then she remembered Becky was right. He had made wooden hockey sticks with the Colorado Avalanche logo on them. She examined the jewelry box again. “But maybe he made one of these as well.” Her confidence in that was quickly fading.
Becky took it and turned it over, revealing a tiny j in a circle in the bottom left-hand corner. “Does yours have one of these?”
Realization dawned and her eyes widened. Jackson had made her the jewelry box. So why had he not given it to her himself? She’d just assumed it was a present from Dean under the tree Christmas morning, and he’d never said otherwise.
Becky touched her shoulder as she set the jewelry box back down. “He sure was loyal to Dean,” she said.
He sure was. Was he still? A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Was he regretting their night together? Or was he finally ready to go after what he’d always wanted. She stared at the jewelry box, her heart echoing in her ears. Something she was quickly realizing she just may want, too.
* * *
“Abigail, I’m glad I caught you before you headed out. Do you have a minute?” Principal Breen asked as Abigail walked past her office the next day.
After a day with two sets of kindergarten children, she was exhausted and all she could think about was the Jacuzzi tub and the bottle of wine chilling in her fridge. Dani was at Taylor’s working on a science fair project that evening, and she was looking forward to a few hours alone to get her thoughts about Jackson sorted out before she came face-to-face with him again.
She forced a smile as she said, “Of course.” Going into the office, she took a seat. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. In fact, I just met with some of the other staff, and they all had nothing but good things to say about you.”
“That’s great.” Some of that day’s exhaustion melted away. Her peers liked and respected her, and she fit in here at Glenwood Elementary. She waited for the woman to continue.
“Your involvement and fresh new ideas in the fundraising efforts have been a huge success and the kids love you…”
Then why did she feel a but coming? She held her breath as she waited.
“So I’d love to offer you the full-time maternity leave position starting next month, if you’re still interested,” Principal Breen said.
Abigail’s shoulders relaxed. She had the job. All of her hard work on the fundraising committee and with the children had paid off. She smiled as she nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Principal Breen.”
“Thank you. Since you’ve been here, there’s a renewed excitement among the staff. They are motivated again with the fundraising efforts, and several other teachers have expressed interest in getting involved, so I couldn’t be more pleased to have you on board. I’m just sorry that it’s not a permanent position.”
She was, too. A maternity fill-in position for the rest of the year wasn’t the best situation if Kelli decided to return to teaching after her leave, but at least it was a step in the right direction. Suddenly, the day seemed a lot less exhausting. And the good news was, she’d be teaching the fourth grade class—Dani’s class—every day. No more five-year-olds, thank God. “I’m sure things will work out. Thank you again. I appreciate this opportunity,” she said as they stood.
Smiling, Abigail left the office, the bottle of wine and Jacuzzi tub now serving a new celebratory purpose instead. As she lowered her head to button her jacket, she collided right into…
Jackson.
“Whoa, steady…” he said, grabbing her shoulders.
Her mouth went dry as she glanced up at him. Damn. She’d been hoping for a little more time—and him to look a lot less hot—before they had to do this. “Hi, sorry, excuse me,” she said, trying to move around him. She didn’t expect the escape attempt to work, but it was worth a shot.
He grabbed her wrist. “Not so fast.”
She sighed as she turned. “Do we have to do this here?” She nodded toward the principal’s office door, which was still open. Several teachers passed them in the hall, throwing curious looks their way. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“You’re right. Let’s talk over dinner,” he said, taking her hand in his and heading toward the door.
How about no? “I don’t think that’s a good idea, either.” A restaurant full of people who might overhear their talk? Uh-uh.
“I do. After all, you should celebrate your new full-time position,” he said with a grin.
Her eyes narrowed. “You were eavesdropping?”
He grinned. “I may have been listening a little, but I already knew. I was one of the staff who couldn’t say enough good things about you.”
“You? The man who acted like he hated me our entire lives?”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and whispered, “That was before I saw you naked.”
She hit him, but a slow smile betrayed her. “You’re still a jerk.”
“Maybe, but I’m a jerk who’s taking you to dinner.”
* * *
The Emerald City Restaurant was quiet that evening, which he was grateful for. He wanted time alone with Abby to talk about what had happened between them and how she was feeling about it, and he knew he couldn’t trust himself to have the conversation in the privacy of her home. Yet he wasn’t eager to have to deal with the uneasiness of too many onlookers, either. Therefore he made a note to tip the waiter well when he led them to one of the more secluded booths in the far end of the restaurant. “Thank you,” he said, as he waited for Abby to climb in before climbing in on the same side.
She shot him a warning look. “There is another side,” she said.
“I like this side,” he said, turning in the booth to face her.
“Look, we both know the other night was…”
“Incredible.”
She sighed. “Okay, yes, incredible, but also…”
“Passionate.”
“Can you let me finish?”
He smiled. “Fine, but first…” Taking her face in his hands he lowered his lips to hers. The surprise look in her eyes should have given him cause to reconsider, but the hell with it. It didn’t matter that he knew he’d crossed a line and he’d broken some sort of bro code; for the first time in his life, he was ready to go after what he wanted. And after the night they shared, he knew she wanted him to.
She closed her eyes and fell into him, and he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her peppermint lip gloss and sliding his fingers through her soft hair. Her hands were
pressed against his chest, but she wasn’t pushing him away. Instead, they clutched the fabric of his T-shirt, drawing him even closer.
When he reluctantly broke away a moment later, he was happy to see Abby was as out of breath as he was. “Okay, now you can talk.”
“I don’t remember what I was going to say.” She sighed, resting her forehead against his chest. “What are we doing?”
He leaned back and, placing a finger under her chin, forced her gaze to his. “I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. Abby, I know I should keep holding back how I feel for you because of Dean, but the truth is, that friendship isn’t worth giving up this chance with you. I’m not even sure I know my friend anymore, after how he treated you and Dani.”
“Jackson, I just got divorced. I’m not ready for…this. Whatever this is. I’m sorry my kissing you and…other things have been misleading, but I’m not sure I can do a relationship right now. Dani and I are starting over and rebuilding a life here.”
He nodded. “I’m not asking for anything except a chance. I know you’ve been through a lot. I know you may still…have feelings for Dean,” he said through clenched teeth. The idea that he might always have to compete for her full affections made him even more determined to prove that he was the right one for her. Had always been the right one.
She shook her head and started to say something, but he placed a finger to her lips.
“And that’s okay. I just want a chance to prove to you I would never hurt you the way he did. I don’t care how long it takes. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere, Abby. My love is not going anywhere.”
She swallowed hard and her eyes widened at his words. “I can’t promise I’ll ever be ready,” she whispered.
Maybe This Time Page 17