Maybe This Time

by Jennifer Snow

  “Dean,” his niece whispered, still in a fangirl trance.

  Jackson shoved her shoulder. “Why don’t you take my phone and go get some shots of you and Dani doing stuff so we can get out of here,” he said, handing her his cell.

  She frowned. “What’s the rush, Uncle Jackson? The dance just started.”

  Wow.

  “Come on, let’s go take a picture in the wacky photo booth,” Dani said.

  Taylor hesitated.

  “I’ll be right here,” Dean reassured with a wink.

  Taylor looked ready to faint as she nodded and allowed Dani to drag her toward the rented photo booth, where dozens of kids were lined up waiting for their turn to put on crazy hats and glasses and get their photos taken.

  So much for getting out of there.

  “So, buddy, how’s things?” Dean asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “Good.” His friend’s ex-wife was driving him to distraction, but other than that…

  “The business? Still doing well?”

  “Yeah. Just bought a place over on…” He stopped. Dean obviously had been to the house to get Dani. Did Abby tell him she was renting and possibly buying his house? He wasn’t about to say anything. He knew Dean thought he despised Abby. Admitting that they’d gotten friendly—understatement—wouldn’t be a good idea. “It’s going well.”

  “Good to hear. I tried calling you about the Colorado Eagles tryouts. Did you hear about them?”

  “Yeah, I got a call from Coach Turner last week.” He shrugged. He’d yet to return the man’s calls, and tryouts were coming up fast. He just wasn’t sure going back was the right move. Especially not now with things progressing—painfully slow—with Abby. Being two hours away in Loveland wouldn’t help, with a training and game schedule keeping him so busy.

  “That’s great. These are closed tryouts, man. I know a bunch of guys who were hoping to get that call. You’re going to try out, right?”

  At first, he’d been tempted, but the more he’d thought about his odds, the less the idea appealed to him. Making a fool out of himself by not making a team he’d once been a part of was the last thing his ego needed. “Ben’s been harassing me every other day about it, but I don’t think I will,” he said with a shrug.

  Dean stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Why the hell not?”

  “I’m almost thirty, man. The minors are full of nineteen-year-old kids. They’re younger, faster, more skilled…I’d look pathetic trying out for a team I quit three years ago.”

  “Look, I’m telling you, these kids may be quick, but they aren’t more skilled. And with all of the players getting injured this season, all the teams are bringing guys up from the farm teams.”

  “Ben said they brought four guys up last game.” He’d never seen a season where so many new players were getting their shot.

  “Exactly my point. Guys are getting called up, leaving the minor teams scrambling for players. The thing is, if they bring in a few other men like yourself, they can keep their nineteen-year-olds, so the kids don’t have to feel the pressure of going up and down. You have to go for this, man.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, I really do. I just think that part of my life is over.” And he hoped a new chapter was beginning. His gaze landed on Abby pouring glasses of punch behind the drinks table and his heart raced. Definitely hoping life was taking a new, better direction.

  “It doesn’t have to be,” Dean was saying, “Six months on the minor team, and I guarantee, you’ll get called up and get a chance to play this time.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s what I want anymore,” he said, but he had to admit talking about the opportunity with his buddy had gotten him slightly hopeful. Maybe he could succeed this time. Either way he knew he had to make a decision soon. If he decided to go for it, every waking minute of the next week would be spent on the ice. And if he made the team, he’d be living in Loveland…He glanced at Abby again. But damn, even twenty feet away was proving too much. “I’ll think about it.”

  Dean slapped his back. “Good. I wouldn’t want to have called in my favor to Coach Turner for nothing.”

  What? His buddy had gotten him the invite to the tryouts? He’d thought his past playing record had secured the spot. It was good enough. “You talked to Coach Turner?”

  “I just got you the invite. The rest is up to you, and I know you’ll kick ass.”

  His friend was still trying to help him with a hockey career, still believing in him…and he’d slept with his wife. He felt like a complete asshole, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions. And he hadn’t asked Dean for the favor.

  Dean’s gaze fell across the room. “Abigail looks like she’s doing well. New house, new job…” he said.

  Jackson shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her. Time and distance must have weakened his bond with his friend because he couldn’t detect the underlying meaning in the words. Was he happy for her? It was hard to tell. “Um…yeah.” He nodded, staring at her and hoping the truth about his feelings wasn’t written all over his face.

  “She looks amazing.”

  Yes, she did.

  “I think I fucked up.”

  Think? But it was too late now, wasn’t it?

  “I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching lately, especially since signing those divorce papers. I made some mistakes, you know. It’s the game. It’s being away so much.” He ran a hand through his beard. “And then seeing her tonight. She looks amazing,” he said.

  “Yes, you said that.” Jackson’s voice was hard as he turned to face him. Was Dean for real? He’d put Abby through hell and now, because she looked amazing and was doing fine without him, he wanted her back? “Dean, you’re not serious, right? I mean, you hurt her a lot.”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed, then he pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, buddy. It’s not your problem.”

  Damn right it was his problem. He wasn’t sitting on the sidelines while Dean tried to take what he wanted—in that moment—only to hurt her again when another set of long legs walked past. “Well, actually…”

  “Dad, come on, let’s get our picture taken under the balloons,” Dani said, running up to them.

  “Okay…Hey, why don’t we ask your mom to join us,” he said, his gaze locked on Jackson.

  A brief flash of disappointment registered on the little girl’s face but Dean didn’t notice.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “See you later, man,” Dean said as they headed off toward Abby.

  There’s no way Abby will agree to it. He watched as they spoke, saw the look of terror in her eyes come and go before finally nodding and following them to the balloon arch.

  Damn. This was bullshit.

  Unfortunately, they looked like the perfect, beautiful family smiling for the camera and his heart fell into his stomach. Was his buddy too late realizing his mistake? Or was the history they shared and the fact they had Dani enough for them to try again? Did Abigail want that? He stared at her, trying to determine what might be going through her mind—and her heart—at that moment, but he couldn’t tell. All he did know for sure was this familiar scene in front of him wasn’t something he could continue to put himself through.

  “Can we go now?” Taylor asked at his side, as though reading his mind.

  “Yep.”

  * * *

  As she watched Dean and Dani dancing to a hip-hop song among the other father and daughter couples, Abigail smiled. Her daughter looked happier than she’d seen her in a long time. Maybe they would all be okay. Dean could swoop onto the scene when he would, and between those times, she and Dani would make a new future together.

  And hopefully someday she’d be ready to include someone else in their lives. A certain someone in particular. Her gaze scanned the gym for Jackson. She’d seen him earlier with Taylor, and he’d looked so amazing in his suit, filling in for Neil, that her heart had melted. She’d also
seen him talking to Dean, but now he was nowhere in sight.

  So much for a sneaked kiss in the equipment room.

  Despite telling him that they needed to go slow, the urge to go fast—very fast—hadn’t faded. In fact, in the few days she hadn’t seen him, he’d been constantly on her mind. She’d missed him.

  “Hey, sweetheart, would you mind if I danced with your mom for this one?” she heard Dean ask Dani as they approached, and her heart stopped.

  “Oh, no…” She shook her head as she glanced at her daughter. How could he not see how disappointed Dani looked right now? How could he not realize how much she missed him the last few months or how excited she was that he was there? And why on earth was he acting as though they were all still some big happy family? The ink on the divorce papers was certainly dry by now. She was moving on. And her growing feelings for Jackson had a lot to do with her healing heart.

  “Come on, Abby. For old times’ sake,” he said.

  Old times’ sake? The man had to be crazy.

  “Go ahead, Mom. My feet hurt anyway,” Dani said.

  “No,” she said firmly, staring at Dean. Then turning to Dani, she added, “I still have to finish up here before I can leave. I’m sure your feet can make it through one more dance,” she said with a wink, ignoring Dean as she continued to toss empty paper plates and cups from the tables into the garbage bag she held.

  She released a breath as the two headed back onto the dance floor. What was going on with Dean? For months he’d ignored her, dealing only through the lawyers, and when they did talk, they hadn’t exactly been friendly. Now he wanted family photos and a dance with her? She’d caught him staring at her so often that she’d actually been uncomfortable. Whatever his new motive was, she didn’t like it. And she hoped Dani wouldn’t get caught in the middle of any more tension between them. Just get through a few more minutes.

  She finished cleaning, fighting the knot in the pit of her stomach, and twenty minutes later, she hugged Dani in the school parking lot before her daughter set off to spend the night with Dean at his hotel.

  “You’re hurting me,” Dani croaked.

  “Sorry…Okay…” She reluctantly let her go. It was just one night. No different than when she slept over at Taylor’s.

  Who was she trying to kid? This was so much more stressful. An hour away in Denver, with Dean. Why had she said yes? The court document clearly stated she had all the say in the custody arrangement, but she couldn’t deny her daughter this time with her father. Even if she would be up all night worrying and thinking the worst.

  “You have everything?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mom,” Dani said, wiping her lipstick off of her cheek.

  Still she held on.

  “Mom, let go,” Dani said, peeling her fingers from her arm.

  “Okay, sorry. You’ll have a great time.” While she lay awake worrying sick about her. She forced a smile as Dani climbed into the rental car.

  Dean closed the passenger side door and walked toward her. “She’ll be fine.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll have her back tomorrow by noon.”

  She nodded.

  “You know you’re welcome to join us,” he said.

  Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly she was seeing this visit with Dani, the perfect father act, for what it was. “You came here to spend time with Dani, remember?”

  He frowned. “I just thought all of us together again might…”

  “Might what, Dean?” she hissed, lowering her voice so Dani wouldn’t hear. Lord knows the little girl had already heard and witnessed enough of their fighting.

  “Look, I realize I messed up. After signing the papers, I’ll admit, I panicked a little. I miss you…and Dani.” He touched her arm.

  She backed away. He couldn’t be serious right now.

  “I really think I want my family back.”

  Really thought he wanted his family back? Not definitely wanted his family back, but maybe? Well, she was completely certain that she didn’t want him back. Her hands clenched at her sides. “That’s not up to you.”

  He stepped forward. “Don’t be so angry at me that you refuse to even think about it. Look how happy Dani was tonight, the three of us together,” he said, handing her the photo of them under the balloon arch.

  She took it and tucked it under her arm. Allowing the picture to happen had been a mistake. One she wouldn’t be repeating. “Have a good night. Don’t let her stay up too late, and have her home by noon, please.”

  “I know about the kiss with Jackson,” he said, his expression suddenly unreadable.

  She gulped. Fantastic. She felt her higher ground start to cave beneath her feet, but dug in her heels. She had no reason to feel guilty or make excuses. She was a free woman, and she’d do as she pleased. “Dani told you?”

  “Yes. And I forgive you.”

  Her eyes widened. “You forgive me? For kissing a man after we were divorced? How big of you.”

  “I forgive you for kissing my best friend in an attempt to get back at me,” he said.

  That’s what he thought? She was tempted to let him think it since it was none of his business anyway, and it was a much easier explanation. But she shook her head as she moved closer. “I didn’t kiss Jackson to get back at you.” She hadn’t had sex with him for that reason, either. “I kissed him because I wanted to. You never even crossed my mind. In fact, you never cross my mind anymore, Dean.”

  He stared at her a second longer, as though weighing her words, before turning and getting into the car.

  Forcing a smile despite her fuming anger at Dean, she waved at Dani as they pulled out of the lot. She couldn’t believe the way the evening had turned out. He thought he wanted them back. He thought they should give it another try. He must be insane. There was only one man she wanted. And it wasn’t her ex-husband.

  Chapter 18

  He should have gone home.

  Instead, he walked into the Grumpy Stump and straight toward the bar.

  “Hey, Jackson, what can I get you?” Alan, the bartender, asked, stacking glasses behind the bar.

  “Whatever she’s been drinking seems like a good time,” he said, leaning one elbow on the bar and nodding toward Abby. In the middle of the dance floor—alone—she seemed completely oblivious to anyone else in the bar as she belted out the lyrics of a current hip-hop song about being fancy he’d never heard before. And never wanted to again. “And what’s with the music?” They usually played a mix of rock and country, not this crap.

  Alan shrugged. “She requested it.”

  Jackson sighed as he looked at the fruity-looking drink Alan placed on a napkin in front of him. The lime-green liquid was in a martini glass that he wasn’t even sure how to hold without spilling the contents, let alone drink with the excessive sugar rim along the top. “What is that?”

  “An apple-lime-tini,” he said.

  “I’ll have a beer—whatever’s on tap,” he said, tossing enough cash onto the bar for both drinks before turning to watch Abby again.

  She didn’t notice him, busy in her own little rock concert, long hair flying out around her as she danced, her hips swaying tantalizingly to the beat, unaware of the hard-on inducing effect she was having on every man in the place, including him.

  “How many of these has she had?”

  “Four.”

  Wow. “How long has she been here?” He’d left the school, dropped Taylor off at home, then went home to change and here he was…She’d been chaperoning the event that evening, and it was only nine thirty. She must have arrived fairly recently herself.

  “About forty minutes ago.”

  Four drinks in forty minutes; that explained things. No doubt she’d skipped buzzed and went straight to drunk.

  He should mind his own business. Drink his beer and leave. Better yet, forget the beer, resist the urge to find out why she was partying like a college girl on spring break, and just get the hell out of there while he still could. A
fter seeing her with Dean that evening, he had his own feelings to sort out, and that wouldn’t be happening if he stayed.

  Damn.

  He grabbed the beer, guzzled a mouthful, then headed toward her.

  She didn’t even look at him as she said, “No, thank you. I just want to be left alone.”

  “Well, maybe you should have gone home,” he said.

  Her head snapped toward him, and at first she smiled, but it faded as fast as it had appeared. “You,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  Well, this should be interesting.

  “This is all your fault,” she said, moving closer. The smell of apple-rini-mini-tin-whatever lingering on the air between them.

  “I just got here.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t pa…pat…patro…” She paused. “Is the word pronounced pay…tronize or pa…tronize?” she asked, mumbling the words again both ways.

  He reached for her arm. “I don’t know. Why don’t we go sit and get you some coffee and Google it?”

  She yanked her arm away. “No. I’m dancing.”

  “How about sitting the next one out and talking?”

  She shook her head. “You’re the last person I want to talk to. I told you—I’m pissed at you.”

  Actually, no, they hadn’t gotten that far. Her fascination about pronunciation had distracted her. “Okay, what did I do?”

  “As if you don’t know.”

  He sighed. He’d rather not play mind reader with drunk Abby. He reached for her waist as the DJ finally switched back to the regular country music and a slower ballad started. “Okay, we’ll dance and talk.”

  She looked ready to argue, but then leaned against him, resting her head against his chest. “I do like this song…and you do smell good…”

  He swallowed hard as her arms went around his neck. All evening, he’d wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms, and now that she was there, he held on tighter. But before his lips could take what they’d been craving, he had to know what was bothering her. He had no idea what had happened at the dance after he’d left, but obviously it hadn’t been great. “So, why are you here?” he asked as they started to sway to the music.