by Anna Sugden
“Won’t shared custody mean she has to stay with him whether you like it or not? This way, you dictate the terms.”
“I suppose so,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’ll check that out with Samantha.”
“By then, you and Jake will be a settled, steady couple, so he’ll help keep Lee in line.”
Her heart thunked heavily. Once. Twice.
“Settled? Steady?” She forced the words out of her suddenly numb lips. “I’ve only just left my marriage behind. I’m not sure I’m ready to leap into another serious relationship.”
Even as she spoke, her mind began playing with the idea. Would it be so bad?
“One thing’s beyond doubt,” Tracy said. “Jake’s a far better man than Lee ever was.”
“Yes!” Jenny pumped the air with her fist. “We’ve converted your cynical sister.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “I’ll still hang, draw and quarter him if he hurts Maggie.”
“Don’t worry. If that happens—which it won’t—I’ll help you.”
“You’re jumping the gun.” Maggie shook her head. “We’re nowhere near that stage.”
Jenny waved her hand dismissively. “Sure you are. For a start, Jake’s in love with you.”
This time, Maggie couldn’t force out a sound.
In love with her? He couldn’t be. Could he?
As if she’d heard the silent question, Tracy nodded. “The guy’s in love with you.”
Maggie stared wide-eyed at her sister and her friend as their words tumbled around her brain. “How can you tell?”
“He’s settling down, looking to build a future with you. Inviting you to the gala evening was proof of his commitment,” Jenny said. “He’s never been prepared to do that before. He’s always preferred hot-and-cold-running bed partners rather than one special woman.”
Memories of how that event had turned out brought Maggie back to reality with a jolt. “The gala evening was a disaster.”
“True, but he’s worked hard to make things right,” Tracy said. “Why bother if he isn’t in love with you?”
“It’s obvious.” Jenny nodded. “Just as it’s obvious you’re in love with him.”
“I’m not...” The automatic denial died on Maggie’s lips.
Was she in love with Jake?
Something clicked inside, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle sliding into place. The rush of sensations and feelings made her light-headed. Warmth, happiness—this was right. Tension, worry—could she trust herself to know what was right? Iciness, fear—was she making another mistake?
Yet in the midst of the maelstrom, there was a core of certainty. It grew with each passing second, corralling and calming the swirling emotions, until there was only the steady glow of assurance. Her heart gave a joyous skip, then pounded.
I love Jake.
She touched trembling fingers to her mouth, to keep the words from bursting out. They couldn’t be contained.
“I love Jake.” The wonder in her hushed voice made Jenny smile mistily.
“It’s worked out perfectly. Two of my favorite people will be together and you can stay here in New Jersey.”
Maggie tried to ignore the frisson of unease that slithered down her spine. There was no such thing as perfect. “It’s a long way from being settled.”
“I know.” The mist faded from Jenny’s expression. “But it’s a great start and the future looks promising. You can be levelheaded and realistic, but I’ll keep hoping everything will turn out as I predict.”
With Jenny’s words, Maggie realized that alongside the steady flame of love burning inside her was another, smaller glow. One that had been missing for so long she could barely recall when it had last been alight.
Hope.
* * *
“HOLD UP, BAD BOY.”
Jake stopped at the urgency in the trainer’s voice. “What’s up, Steve?”
The guy jogged toward him. “Coach said to remind you to give your sample for the drug test after tonight’s game.”
He frowned. “Again? I only gave one ten days ago.”
“Just passing on a message.” Steve shrugged. “The league’s been edgy ever since investigators started naming names in that internet pharmacy case. Some big sports stars have been accused of buying steroids from the site. It’s only a matter of time before they name an NHL player.”
“I don’t get it.” Jake shook his head. “That junk can seriously damage your health.”
“Not to mention your career. At least you’re not one of those idiots.”
“Damn straight.”
“Anyway, don’t forget.” The trainer started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, and the media’s desperate to get at you, but we’re holding them off.”
“I appreciate the heads-up. Perhaps Charlie Sheen will do me a favor and go crazy again.” Jake stalked into the empty locker room.
He tossed his bag on the floor and slumped by his locker, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tightness. The past few days had been rough.
He’d been dogged by journalists at home, at his parents’ and at practice. His cell was permanently diverted to voice mail. It was great that his version of events was getting out there, but it was taking its toll on him. Not just personally but also on the ice.
Luckily, the Cats hadn’t had a game until tonight, so his poor play had only been during practice. He needed desperately to be back to normal, and fast.
To cap it all, he hadn’t seen Maggie since the gala evening, and it was killing him. Their brief phone conversations weren’t nearly enough. Something had changed between them. He sensed it in the way she spoke, her tone of voice. Jake hoped it meant she’d forgiven him. A warm glow filled him, wrapping around his heart. Images danced through his head— golden-hued happy pictures that resonated in his soul.
Maybe some good had come of this crap with Tony—not that he’d thank the jerk.
Jake touched his fingers to his lips, recalling her taste from their last kiss. Reliving the feel of her mouth beneath his. Her body in his arms.
He puffed out a frustrated breath. He had to find a way to see Maggie after the game.
Voices echoed in the corridor outside the locker room. Jake straightened, trying to pull it together. He had a game to prepare for.
Not just any game, either. Though the season wasn’t halfway through, a win tonight against the second-place Flyers would widen the gap between them, putting the Cats firmly in control of their division. Two points closer to securing a play-off berth. Two points closer to lifting the Stanley Cup.
Several teammates entered laughing. When they saw him, they came to an abrupt stop.
Unease crept down his spine. “What’s going on?”
Juergen and Vlad exchanged uncomfortable looks while Larocque headed for his locker, avoiding Jake’s gaze.
The creeping turned to a stampede. “Fellas?”
The Russian swore. “Have you seen the latest pieces from the U.K. about Maggie?”
“I haven’t had a chance—they only came out late last night. Why?”
Juergen said quietly, “You should take a look.”
His stomach nosedived to his Nikes. “It’s that bad?”
“They regurgitated every piece of salacious gossip about her, going back to when she was single.” Juergen pulled out his phone, tapped in some details then turned it to show Jake. “Check this out.”
“It’s a blonde dancing on a table.” A hot blonde in a low-cut top, micromini and skyscraper heels that showed off her fabulous legs.
“It’s Maggie.”
“You’re kidding.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow. The Swede shook his head, his serious expression confirming this was no joke. Jake studied the picture again, but could only find
superficial similarities with the woman he knew. “No way.”
“Maggie Hayden—her maiden name—was an über ‘It Girl.’” Vlad’s tone was apologetic. “The press nicknamed her ‘The Divine Miss H,’ and she had more tabloid coverage than Posh Spice.”
Maggie hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said any hint of trouble could be used against her. His gut twisted. He’d downplayed her concerns, brushed them aside. His arrogant assumption that he knew better was going to cost Maggie dear. “That was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then.”
“Not what the media are saying.” Juergen shifted uncomfortably. “It gets worse. There’s no mention of the story you’ve been pushing.”
Jake blinked. “Nothing?”
“Nothing about why you punched Tony, only that you brawled with a team’s major sponsor. Apparently, you’re proof that she’s still hanging out with the wrong kind of guy.”
“They also mentioned Tampa,” JB added miserably.
It really was that bad.
“See for yourself on the ’net,” Juergen suggested.
Pushing out of the locker room, Jake stalked down the corridor to the operations director’s office. “Can I borrow your computer, Tom?”
“Sure, Bad Boy. Help yourself. I’ve got to check a problem with one of the Zambonis.”
It took Google less than a second to prove the guys were right. The photo of Tony lying sprawled at Maggie’s feet was splashed across every publication, alongside pictures of him laying Tony out. For extra color, they’d added a plethora of stories and pictures from her past and his.
Meanwhile, her jerk ex-husband had expressed his “shock and disbelief” and his “heartfelt concern” for his beloved daughter, while vowing to wrest custody from Maggie. Mentions of Lee’s abusive behavior were brushed over in favor of descriptions of his “happy new life” and upcoming nuptials.
Jake slowly got to his feet. His body ached almost as badly as it had in those early days after the accident.
This was all his fault. Maggie had tried to warn him but he’d been too wrapped up in his own needs to listen.
Didn’t that have an uncomfortably familiar ring to it?
Now Maggie and Emily would pay the price. Just as Adam had.
Once again, Jake had been too damn sure of himself. Arrogantly assuming he could put everything right.
What a joke. All he’d done was make things worse. His selfishness had almost certainly cost Maggie custody of her daughter. Bile burned his throat.
He trudged back to the locker room, oblivious to the game preparations around him. As he suited up, questions bounced through his mind, like pucks on soft ice.
What could he do to fix things?
Haven’t you done enough already?
He could...
No.
Jake pulled himself up short. That was how he’d got them all into this mess.
He was no closer to figuring out what to do by game time.
Jake tried to concentrate on his play. He pushed through shift after shift, but even the adrenaline of a spirited ice battle couldn’t dull the nauseous edge to his tension. Though Maggie wasn’t in the stands, he couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking to where she usually sat.
The Ice Cats played a solid first period and went back to the locker room a goal up.
As the coaches outlined tactics for the second, Jake’s mind strayed. Images of Maggie whirled through his brain. The uptight woman in the drab outfit and sensible shoes from their first meeting morphed into the sexy babe in that red suit with the killer heels. Then a smiling Maggie danced tantalizingly through his mind in a variety of outfits with strategically placed buttons before becoming the pouting blonde wild child with the barely there clothes.
A shroud of gloom settled about his taut shoulders.
By the time he hit the ice again, Jake’s nerves were jumpy, his concentration shaky. He gritted his teeth and tried to clear his mind.
It didn’t work. He barely made it through his shift.
Jake climbed back over the boards and slumped on the bench. As he waited for play to resume, he looked up at the Jumbotron. Instead of the rah-rah images pumped out by the arena, those damn pictures of Maggie cycled through his brain. They were joined by still more: Emily’s pale face as Maggie fanned the smoke from the burned bacon; Emily’s fear as she handed him the broken banister knob.
Dizzy with the mental kaleidoscope, Jake tightened his hold on the boards. It didn’t help.
Snapshots of Adam flashed through his brain. His friend’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, followed by Adam’s changing expressions as he went from cheerful to depressed and back again. The car veering into oncoming traffic, swerving to avoid bright headlights, overcompensating to slide onto the gravel shoulder, then over the edge and down an embankment. Finally, Adam hanging upside down in the rolled, wrecked car, his body contorted grotesquely, his eyes staring sightlessly into the night as blue lights flickered across his pale face.
The ref blew his whistle, disrupting the mental display. It didn’t stop the simple message from echoing in his head and sending a dagger through his heart.
You will never be good enough for Maggie.
Jake didn’t want to listen, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging inner voice. Especially when he knew the damn thing was right. He would never be a good man, no matter how hard he tried. He’d been a fool to think that changing his life, his reputation, would be enough. He should have known better. Hell, he had known better.
A shout sent him back onto the ice. He barely knew where he was or what he was doing. Opposing players drove forward as he tried to keep pace. The puck bounced over his stick as he attempted a poke check. Momentum carried him away from the play instead of toward it.
Three on one. He couldn’t get back. Skate, damn it!
It was no good. He was too late.
The smack of graphite on rubber. The red flash of the goal light. Boos from the crowd.
Frustration. Desperation. Despair.
He dropped his head and skated back to the bench. He’d let the team down.
Unacceptable.
A heavy hand slapped his shoulder. Max. “You’re sitting the rest of the game, Bad Boy.”
As his teammates struggled to right the situation he’d caused, Jake knew he had to do the same. He owed it to them. To Adam. To himself.
The only thing he could control was what he could deliver on the ice. As long as he was focused, he could guarantee success. From now on, hockey had to be the only thing on his mind and in his heart. Winning the Cup had to come first. He clenched his fist in his glove and pounded it on the board in front of him.
As for Maggie, he wouldn’t be responsible for wrecking her life any further. The best damn thing he could do for her was to stay as far away as possible. His soul ached at the thought of what he’d lose, yet he knew he had no choice. He cared too much for her.
Jake stared out at the ice, his mind oblivious to the frenetic action taking place before him.
There was only one solution.
The pain of what he had to do radiated from his heart until it felt like all his nerve endings were aflame. He bowed his head, resting it on his glove and ruthlessly forced his brain to clamp down on the agony. When he lifted his head finally, he was resolute.
The time had come to make the ultimate sacrifice.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“JAKE WAS a bloody liability tonight.”
Maggie couldn’t disagree with Tracy’s verdict. The guilt that had squeezed her chest every time the cameras had focused on him, his expression thunderous, got worse. His bad play had been because of her.
Jenny nodded, her expression glum. “I’m not surprised he was benched—his turnover led to the Flyers’ game-winnin
g goal.”
The three women were curled up in comfortable chairs in front of the TV, each cradling a mug of hot chocolate. Maggie’s mobile phone lay on the coffee table between them, next to a crumb-covered dessert plate with one brownie remaining.
The commentators on the postgame show blamed Jake for the loss and speculated about the distraction caused by “recent events in his personal life.”
Maggie groaned. “I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”
The nightmare had actually started last night. The weeklies back home had been more vicious than she’d expected. Each sneering commentary had been a bruising blow.
Then this morning, Samantha had phoned. Lee was making good on his threat to wrest custody from her. Her solicitor had reassured her that the same law which kept Lee in Emily’s life, ensured Maggie couldn’t be excluded either, but she faced a tough fight. One the media would relish.
Things had gone downhill from there. Work had been impossible. Maggie had spent the day making statements to the media—damage control that felt like a finger in a leaking levee.
Now as the hands on the mantel clock edged toward eleven, Maggie’s body ached with exhaustion and worry. She’d known how events would unfold as a result of the awful publicity, but she’d underestimated the toll it would take on her.
To cap it all, her phone had been ominously silent.
As it was game day, Jake had been tied up with the morning skate. But he’d promised to phone her. They’d agreed she shouldn’t attend the game, given the media fuss, but he’d sworn he couldn’t get through the day without hearing her voice. Yet he still hadn’t rung.
His silence couldn’t be good.
“I’m sure there’s a good explanation.” The hint of uncertainty in Jenny’s tone wasn’t reassuring.
“He’s probably decided I’m not worth the bother.” She couldn’t blame him; she’d never been good enough for Lee, either.
Tracy snorted. “After everything he’s done over the past few days, why would he suddenly change his mind about you?”
“Because it hasn’t made a scrap of difference.”