All for You

by Moore, Heather B.

  “Exactly,” he said with a chuckle. “Gotta think the good thoughts. Keep drinking barrels of water. And not let it bother me when Ben gets scored on.”

  She smiled. He didn’t know what he’d said to deserve that smile, but he wanted to find a way to duplicate it. Over and over.

  “Not a fan of water?” she asked.

  “Water’s essential, we all know that, but I think I drink more water than the entire da—darned country of Nepal.”

  She was still smiling. “I’m sure Maddy knows what she’s doing. She told me she reads a lot of books on nutrition.”

  “There you go,” Nelson said with a shrug. “She’s learning from the experts. My life and my stomach are absolutely fine in her hands.”

  Lindsey laughed.

  Nelson was pretty sure his heart flipped over, even though he knew it wasn’t scientifically or physically possible.

  She slipped off her shoes—no high heels tonight—and tucked her feet up on the couch.

  So . . . she was going to stay awhile.

  Despite hockey being his life and love, it was hard to tear his gaze from the woman on the other side of the couch and pay attention to the game. Because that was why he was sitting in front of the television—to watch the game—right?

  He forced his eyes back to the television. “Come on, Minky,” Nelson muttered, watching the forward make a play for the goal again. Minky shot, and it was blocked at the last minute by the Chargers’ goaltender.

  Nelson blew out a breath. The Chargers were in control now and definitely dominating the entire game. Minky tried to cut off one of the Chargers, and the other player turned and drove an elbow into Minky’s side.

  The two men crashed against the wall, and Nelson shot to his feet. “Get off him! Ref, do something!”

  Nelson immediately regretted his swift action because his knee was so numb that he nearly lost his balance. “Whoa,” he said, grabbing for the couch. “Dammit.”

  Lindsey jumped to her feet and grasped his arm. “Are you okay?”

  Nelson closed his eyes for a second, because stars were twinkling at the edge of his vision. “I’m okay. Just stood up too fast. This blasted knee is like a block of ice right now, thanks to Maddy’s insistence that I ice the hel—heck out of it every night.”

  Lindsey was still holding onto his arm. And she smelled of her mystery perfume again. He couldn’t have planned this better. But of course, the second that thought crossed his mind, she released him and stepped back.

  “Well, take it easy, Nelson,” she said. “It’s only a game.”

  He snapped his gaze to her.

  Lindsey smiled.

  She was teasing, that he could see now, but still, those were fighting words. Resting her hands on her hips, she looked him up and down. What was she trying to do, make him blush? Not that he ever blushed—he was a pro hockey player, after all.

  “Do you always get this wound up watching a game?” she asked, her hands still on those curvy hips of hers.

  “Uh . . .” How did he answer that?

  “I mean, I think it’s cool that our society idolizes athletes enough to facilitate entire careers and events based around such a sporting event, but in the end . . . it’s chasing a ball around, or a puck, in this case. Not exactly a life-or-death occasion.”

  He blinked. “Is that lawyer speak or something? Because I’m hoping you’re not insulting my entire existence up to this point. And what will continue to be my life for, oh, possibly until my death, because I plan on coaching after I retire from the game.”

  One of her brows raised. “How long have you been playing?”

  “My dad took me on the ice when I was six years old,” he said. “Haven’t looked back since. Kept me out of trouble in high school and paid for my college.”

  She seemed even more surprised at this. “College, huh?”

  He took a step closer, even though he really wanted to sit and give his knee a rest. “You thought I was an uneducated blockhead?”

  Her mouth twitched. Nelson was pretty sure she’d put on lip gloss before coming into the game room.

  “What did you study?” she asked, her voice softer now.

  “Sports psychology.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She nodded and lowered her hands. Then she moved back and sat on the couch. Not at the very end, but more toward the middle.

  Nelson retook his seat in the same spot, which only put him about a foot and a half away from Lindsey. The fight had apparently been cleaned up, and Minky was back on the ice, no worse for the wear.

  Nelson repositioned the ice bag on his knee.

  “Gardenia,” Lindsey said in a quiet voice.

  He looked over at her. “Garden-what?”

  Her blue eyes met his. “That’s the name of my perfume.”

  Today was the day, Lindsey decided. The beginning of her new life. She’d returned the rental van the day before, and today would be her first real day in the office. So she was going to start it off right by running this morning, then after showering, she’d head to the Main Street Café. Start to mingle with the locals.

  She needed to start drumming up clients, although Dawson said he had plenty of leads for her.

  Lindsey climbed out of bed, and after brushing her teeth, she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. Then she dressed in very outdated running clothes, but who’d see her? She slipped her cell phone into her jacket pocket because the March mornings had been fairly cool, and there was still snow clinging to the slopes.

  Which Tyler Nelson had told her about in great detail, since apparently he hiked them every morning. The thought of him and his tales of woe brought a smile to her face. No wonder Maddy had told him he couldn’t complain, because he definitely didn’t mince words or hold back on speaking his thoughts aloud.

  After the hockey game they’d watched together two nights ago—which the Falcons had won by two—Lindsey hadn’t seen Nelson except for once in passing. He’d asked her if she needed any more help moving boxes. No. And she’d asked him how his knee was doing. Fine.

  They’d both continued on their way, in opposite directions going down the hallway, but Lindsey was pretty sure he’d turned to look at her before she went outside. Nelson was a unique guy, and he was kind of a nice distraction from all the pressure of starting completely over in a new location. Not to mention dealing with the filing of her report to her former law firm. Dawson still wanted her to press charges, but with every hour that passed in Pine Valley, the more distant all the stuff about Paul became.

  Lindsey stepped from her room and headed out of the bed and breakfast. She couldn’t stay here much longer, because the price would eat up her savings quickly, so later this afternoon, she’d be meeting with a realtor to look at condos and apartments to rent. Dawson told her having realtor Jeff Finch show her around would be a lot faster than looking up rentals online and calling each place to schedule a visit.

  She pulled up her playlist on her phone, then put in her Bluetooth ear buds. The morning was cool and windy, but she was determined to go running. Dawson had told her about a couple of route choices, and she took the shorter one so that she could break herself in. The sunrise changed the sky to pale gold and crystal blue as she set off. The first mile was torture. Various muscles hurt at different times. By the second mile, she decided that she would live and that running wasn’t so bad after all. That changed halfway through the third mile. The aches returned, and so did a sharpness in her side.

  Finally, half a mile from the bed and breakfast, she slowed to walk. Perhaps she’d started out too fast and had expected too much. Her phone rang, surprising her because of the early hour. It was barely seven in the morning. When she looked at the incoming number, she nearly stopped breathing.

  Paul.

  What was he doing calling her? And then she knew. Of course. She sent the call to voicemail prematurely. And . . . sure enough, a moment later, the voicemail icon popped up with his
message. Her heart stuttered. And her stomach felt like she’d swallowed a rock. She thought about waiting until she was with Dawson to listen to it, but the rock in her stomach grew heavier and heavier.

  She was almost to the bed and breakfast, and although her body was cooling down and she was feeling quite chilly, she continued around the building and headed toward the gazebo behind the building. The wind rattled through the budding trees, and the fragrance of blossoms should have been comforting, but her stomach only twisted harder.

  She sat on the cold wooden bench and listened to the voicemail.

  “What the hell, Lin? I read the report you filed, and you know it’s complete lies. I don’t know what idiot lawyer would represent you, but you’d better bet that I’m going to be filing a lawsuit against you. For sexual harassment. Yep, you heard me. How does it feel to have the tables turned? Wenches like you think you can get away with teasing men, then dumping them when you’ve gotten your promotions or raises or whatever twisted satisfaction you’re looking for. No more. It stops with me.”

  Paul proceeded to call her a few choice words, then hung up after more threats. Lindsey saved the message and lowered the phone. Her hands were trembling, and she couldn’t catch a full breath. She knew Paul was a corrupt person, but his soul was truly ugly. And she didn’t think for one moment that his threats were idle. She wished she could call Dawson right now, but she knew it was a court day for him.

  Lindsey leaned forward and rested her elbow on her knees, keeping her phone gripped between her hands. She stared at the ground and the few leaves that were strewn there. The morning had started out with such hope and newness, but now she felt like she’d been dragged backward a hundred steps.

  “Lindsey?” a voice said from the direction of the bed and breakfast.

  Oh no. Tyler Nelson. What was he doing out here so early? Another hike?

  She didn’t lift her head, didn’t move. Maybe he’d get the hint and leave her alone.

  “You’re freezing,” he said, his voice closer now. “Do you want my jacket?”

  She shook her head, still not looking at him. But he set a jacket over her shoulders anyway. Then he sat next to her.

  “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  “No,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse. She lifted her head and exhaled. “Just got some bad news.”

  Their gazes connected, and she hated that his gray eyes were intent on her, not missing a thing. She didn’t want to spill her miserable story to someone she’d barely met.

  “You might need a new phone,” he said. “You’re about ready to crush that one.”

  Lindsey looked down at her hands. Her knuckles were white from gripping her phone so hard.

  “Here,” he said, placing his hand on hers, then he gently pried the phone from her hands. “You might need it later.” He set the phone on the bench.

  She said nothing.

  He said nothing.

  His jacket helped with the shivering, but only just.

  After another minute, Nelson pulled out his phone and sent a text.

  “You don’t need to stay,” she said, making a move to take off the jacket.

  “Keep it on,” Nelson said. “I told Maddy that I’m delaying our hike. No big deal. Do you want me to bring you a hot drink?”

  Lindsey’s eyes stung at his kindness. She wasn’t going to let herself cry, though. He wasn’t trying to make her go inside or asking her to tell him anything. He was just trying to make her comfortable.

  “Something hot would be great,” she said at last.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  And he left.

  Lindsey closed her eyes. She was going to be in for a pretty big fight against Paul. If he followed through with his threats, the case would hit the media. Maybe she should drop the case, but even as she considered it, she knew she couldn’t. She pulled Nelson’s jacket closer, encasing her hands. Her phone was still on the bench, and some emails chimed through, but she didn’t look at them.

  When Nelson returned, she felt more calm. He handed over a steaming mug of tea, and she took a careful sip. The wild-orange flavor was sweet, yet somehow strong and soothing.

  Nelson sat by her again. She noticed for the first time what he was wearing. Those hiking boots and ratty jeans, along with a long-sleeved T-shirt. Dark gray, like his eyes. He smelled like soap and spice. Did he shower first thing in the morning or something?

  “You know when we first met at the café?” she asked.

  “When I nearly punched Dawson Harris?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to bring up that part, but I wanted to explain why I was there in the first place.” She glanced at him, then away. “Why I’m in Pine Valley at all.”

  She’d told him a little about her former firm the other night when they were watching the hockey game, but not the real reason why she’d left everything to come to Pine Valley.

  “There’s more than what you told me?” he asked, his gray eyes steady on hers.

  Somehow she trusted those gray eyes, although she couldn’t exactly explain why. Yeah, she’d googled the heck out of his name and she hadn’t found any reported felonies or petty crimes. Not that she expected to, but assumptions had sometimes gotten her into bad situations. Like with Perkins and Gunner.

  So she told Nelson about her former law firm. About the money she’d brought into the firm in just a few months, and how Mr. Gunner had told her she was on track to make partnership. It was a little harder to talk about Paul Locker and how he’d treated her. She left out the specific details, but judging by the storm in Nelson’s gaze, she knew that he was reading between the lines.

  Remarkably, he listened and didn’t pepper her with questions as she spoke. Until the end. “The message on your phone was from this Paul Locker guy?” he asked, his eyes steely.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I listen to it?”

  Lindsey hesitated. Sure, she’d have Dawson listen—he was representing her, after all. But Nelson was . . . a wild card.

  “Um, I think it’s going to be evidence,” she said at last, “so I probably shouldn’t be sharing it with those who aren’t connected to the case.”

  Nelson’s jaw flexed. “I don’t know about all the legal stuff you just said, but maybe I can offer a different perspective.” He picked up the phone while holding her gaze. “You know, an outsider’s opinion.”

  She exhaled. Was he right? Or was she taking comfort in the fact that her burdens felt slightly less when talking to this man? As gut-wrenching as this entire situation with Paul was, she was feeling much better than she had felt when she’d first seen his name on her caller ID.

  “Okay.” She took the phone from Nelson so she could unlock it and pull up the voicemail.

  She handed the phone back to Nelson, then she stood and paced while he listened to the message. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the expression on his face, because it would make her feel sick all over again.

  A moment later, he set the phone down on the bench. He didn’t move for a while, and she continued to pace, her stomach in knots. What did Nelson think? He’d heard almost everything now. So there was no secret that her life was a mess, and the train wreck was far from over. Maybe he’d ask for his jacket back and tell her good luck and that it was nice knowing her.

  Lindsey stopped at the opposite end of the gazebo. The sun was well on its way across the horizon now, and the morning was beginning to warm bit by bit.

  She heard the shuffle of steps and realized that Nelson had risen from the bench. He walked toward her, but she didn’t turn around.

  “Lindsey,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry about what you’re dealing with. Paul’s a bastard.”

  She nodded, both agreeing with his pronouncement and feeling like crying at the same time.

  “Although I know very little about the legal world, any judge will see right through him,” Nelson continued.

  “I hope so.�
�� The trembling in her voice had returned.

  Nelson’s hand moved from her shoulder to her upper back, and she turned toward him. Without a word, he pulled her against him, and she wrapped her arms around his sturdy waist. Everything about him was solid and warm, and as he moved his hand slowly along her back, she closed her eyes. Breathed him in. For a moment, Paul’s accusations felt far away. In another life.

  She wished it would stay that way, that she wouldn’t have to return to reality.

  Meanwhile, Nelson smelled really good, all male and clean and spicy, and the strength of his arms around her was like a barrier against all things Paul. But it wasn’t like she could stay this way forever.

  “Lindsey . . .” His voice was low, his touch intoxicating and calming at the same time.

  She really needed to release him. Get in the shower. Organize her office. Find some clients. She exhaled, then drew away. Nelson dropped his hands, and Lindsey only wanted to step into his embrace again.

  “Thank you,” she said, smoothing her hair back, her hands trembling for a different reason now. “I really needed that hug.”

  He smiled, but his gaze was somber. “Any time.”

  She drew in another breath, then stepped away, reducing the temptation to do the opposite. She crossed the gazebo and picked up her phone. “Oh, your jacket.” Slipping if off, she handed it to him.

  He took the jacket but said nothing, only watched her with those dark gray eyes.

  Lindsey took another step away, then another. “Have a good hike, and I’ll see you . . . sometime.” She turned then, hurrying to the building. She heard Nelson say goodbye, but she didn’t slow.

  She really needed some space and a moment to herself. A lot of moments.

  Apparently the big-shot lawyer Dawson Harris drove a pristine red truck. Nelson’s temper went down one point. At least the guy wasn’t in a $200,000 sports car. Maybe he had some decency in him after all. It hadn’t been hard to find information on Dawson, and Nelson had called the number listed on the website.

  His call had gone to voicemail, as expected, but Nelson had been sure to leave a message that would ensure him a same-day reply. And yep. Less than an hour later, Dawson had called. And now they were meeting just after 7:00 p.m. in Dawson’s office. The lights on the side of the building where Lindsey’s office was were off, so hopefully that meant that she was gone for the day. A good thing in Nelson’s mind, because he didn’t know how well this conversation would go.