The Bad Boy Hockey Collection: A Collection Of Single Daddy Romances

by Cass Kincaid

  ***

  Cardon Springs is the only place I’ve ever been where I can come here for a bit of solitude and time to rest my brain, bruised heart, and shattered pride, only to wind up tied in knots over the one thing I never expected to find—a man.

  If Craig can be considered simply a man. Because I don’t think he is. He can’t be. A man has never been able to make me want things like a quiet home life and someone to come home to every evening. A man has never kept me awake at night with thoughts of his dark eyes and memories of his firm, muscled body. And a man certainly has never had me so worked up and anxious about him coming to pick me up in less than an hour that I’ve resorted to confessing almost everything to my aunt in hopes of feeling some sort of reprieve from the racing thoughts I can‘t seem to halt.

  “I think you’re getting way too ahead of yourself, my dear.” Aunt Nancy is doing what she usually does, making copious amounts of tea and force-feeding it to me like it’s the answer to all my problems.

  Thank God I didn’t have it in myself to admit to her that Craig and I slept together the other night. She has no idea just how ahead of ourselves we really got.

  “I know you think that,” I argue. “But you were right about him, Aunt Nancy. Craig is a good man. A good man with an infant son that’s his world. Am I ready for something like that?” When I’m frustrated, I gesture with my hands a lot while I talk, so I wisely set my mug of tea down before I end up wearing it and scalding myself.

  My aunt offers me a narrowed glance. “Do you think he was ready?” she asks. “No one’s ever ready to fall in love with someone, Meg, whether it’s a romantic relationship, or the bond between a father and a son.”

  “I never said I was falling in love with him,” I say, eyeing her warily.

  “You never said you weren’t,” she counters, grinning.

  “Who’s the one getting ahead of themselves now?” I turn around, pacing across the room to try to rid myself of the anxiety that’s creeping into my chest and constricting it. “I can’t fall in love with him, anyway. You know that.”

  “Because you’re so determined to make Cardon Springs your temporary home?” She doesn’t speak with malice, but there’s an undertone of longing in there that hurts my chest even more. “Give it time, sweetheart,” she adds. “Maybe your feelings about Craig are reason enough to just slow down and see what happens next, instead of planning your way out of this town.”

  Something blows over in the wind that’s whistling across the front porch, and I glance back toward the opened screen door but see nothing banging against it. Then, my gaze is turned and focused on my aunt, resisting the urge to keep pacing, keeping my face stoic. “I got another job offer in Dallas.”

  Aunt Nancy remains still, but her eyebrow arches. “When did that happen?”

  “A few days ago,” I admit. “I want out of this town, you know that.” Silence falls between us just as the kettle begins to whistle again. My aunt must have forgotten to unplug it, and I take the opportunity to compose myself by crossing the room and unplugging it myself. I turn back to face her. “At least, I thought I wanted out of this town.”

  Aunt Nancy sighs, offering me a sad smile. “You’re putting way too much pressure on yourself about this, Megan.”

  Not very often does she use my full first name, so it commands my attention and I swallow down my anxiousness. I watch as she stands up slowly from the table, leaning her weight on the surface of it to gain her balance. “I think you need to just slow those wheels in your head that have been turning since you got here. You’re always planning your next move, striving for more, yearning for more. And that’s not a bad thing, honey.” She pauses to give me a smile. “Now, you’re unsure how to feel because you like a good man like Craig. Because you like the small-town job you’ve just started. Why, because you don’t feel like it should be enough?”

  “I don’t know what to think, Aunt Nancy,” I confess, sounding defeated and letting my shoulders sag slightly.

  “You know what I think?” She shifts her weight to lean back against the table, reaching out her hand. I take the steps forward to close the gap between us, letting her surprisingly strong hand envelope mine. “I think you’re scared, sweetheart. Of Craig. Of being hurt. Of being happy.”

  “I’m not,” I reply weakly, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat. “I’m petrified.”

  My aunt only squeezes my hand tighter. “Oh, Meg, the most rewarding things in life are the ones that frighten us most.” She smiles encouragingly. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see headlights in the driveway flash through the sheer dining room curtains. I hadn’t heard Craig pull in. Judging by my aunt’s glance over her shoulder, she didn’t realize he was here, either.

  As I kiss Aunt Nancy on the cheek, thank her for the tea and the pep talk, and gather my purse and belongings to head out to Craig’s truck, I contemplate her question. She’s right, what is the worst that could happen?

  But just as quickly as the question sears through my mind, the answer follows. I could fall in love with him, I think nervously. Maybe I already am. And if that’s the case, he could break my heart.

  Chapter Ten

  Craig

  I’m pretty sure someone could have told me that anything could have happened tonight between Megan and I.

  Anything but this.

  I’d worked hard all day at the shop to make sure I was done in time to get home, shower, make myself look presentable, and be able to pick Megan up on time for our date at my house. Taking a page from her book, I managed to show up a little early.

  I expected, and looked forward to, a quiet night in at my place, with supper I’ve been planning for two days, maybe a movie on Netflix amidst some easy conversation, and my son right there with us so I could show him off like a proud dad is supposed to.

  What I didn’t expect was for the entire evening to be shot to hell before I even knocked on Nancy’s front door and had the chance to come face to face with Megan, a bouquet of lilies in my hand.

  I didn’t have to see her to know what she was thinking. Her words carried through the opened screen door as I’d stood on the front porch.

  I never said I was falling in love with him, she’d stated, which was enough to stop my hand in midair, preventing me from knocking on the door. You never said you weren’t, Nancy had replied, which had pushed a grin onto my face and made me bite the inside of my lip. Leave it to Nancy, always the matchmaker.

  Megan’s pause after that had made me grin wider to myself. I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but since there was a part of me that was hoping Nancy was right about Megan’s feelings for me, I couldn’t help myself.

  That should have been my first warning to get the hell out of there, seeing as everything went so downhill afterwards.

  I got another job offer in Dallas. A few days ago. I want out of this town, you know that.

  I left the front porch after that, too furious and hurt to want to object myself to anymore of Megan’s true feelings, almost stumbling down the fucking stairs in my haste and anger. When she still didn’t come outside after a few minutes, I figured she must not have realized I’d arrived yet.

  I debated just driving home, saying screw it and not even bothering to give an explanation. Letting her think I just hadn’t shown up.

  But, no. To hell with that. Megan had lied to me, to my face. She could damn well admit the truth to me, face to face, as well.

  Which is why I flashed my truck headlights, announcing my arrival.

  My back pressed up against the driver’s door, I stand outside, leaning with my arms crossed in front of me, waiting. Megan appears a minute later, a smile plastered on her face as she shuffles down the steps.

  A smile I know is fake.

  “Hey,” she greets me, her eyes scanning down my casual outfit of a green and black plaid shirt over a black t-shirt and jeans. “You look good.” She leans forward to ki
ss me, but I push away from the truck, away from her, which causes her expression to fall. “What’s wrong?”

  I don’t speak immediately, too afraid the anger boiling inside me will overflow into every word. Then, “When are you leaving?”

  “Leaving for where?” she asks, her brows drawn down in confusion.

  “Dallas,” I snap.

  “I’m not—”

  “If you’re going to answer, Megan, do me a favor and let the next words that come out of your mouth be the truth. Because the last ones you said to me sure weren’t.”

  Her eyes grow wide as realization dawns on her. “You heard me tell Aunt Nancy...” Her voice trails off, not finishing her sentence.

  “About the job interview in Dallas? Yeah, I heard that.” And as though I need to defend my actions, I add, “The door was opened when I came up the front steps. I didn’t plan to overhear you, but here we are.”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “Tell me, Megan,” I continue, running my hands through my hair, exasperated. “You said you found out about the interview a few days ago. When, exactly?”

  Her eyes are locked with mine, and she shakes her head. “Craig, I—”

  “When?” I bark, cutting off her stammers.

  She holds my gaze, searching my eyes. For what, I don’t know, but when she answers, her shoulders sag in defeat, her head bowing forward. “I got the call before I left to meet you at the arena.”

  It’s like a stab to my gut, even though I suspected as much. “Before you and I had sex,” I correct her. “Before you stood in front of me and said you wanted this. Wanted us.”

  “I did want you!” she exclaims, tears brimming her eyes. “I still do, Craig.”

  “But you have no intention of staying here, Megan,” I remind her, a vicious edge in my voice that I can’t seem to stamp down. I wave toward the house. “You said so yourself just a few minutes ago...you want out of this town.”

  “I thought—”

  “You know what, Megan? It doesn’t hurt me that Cardon Springs isn’t the kind of place you want to be. Hell, I have days where I’m not sure it’s the place I want to be.” I reach for the handle and pull the driver’s door open. “What hurts is that you didn’t have the guts to tell me, but you still thought it’d be okay to play around with me while you waited for your chance to escape. Jesus, you were about to come and meet Ellis, even though you knew damn well you had no intention of—” A hollow laugh escapes my throat. “Whatever.”

  I can’t explain half the thoughts running through my head, too fueled by the hurt and anger that is flooding my brain and muddling my concentration. I shake my head and attempt to haul myself into my truck, but Megan’s hand juts out, stopping me.

  “Craig, just wait,” she pleads through tears. “I can explain. It’s not what you think.”

  As gently as I can muster, I pull my arm away from her grip and tug the door closed. Through the open driver’s side window, I reply, “It is, actually, which is kind of humorous in an ironic sort of way. I used to be someone you’d call a player, Megan, so you’d think I’d recognize one when I see one.” I turn the key in the ignition and shove the gear shifter into reverse. “So, maybe what hurts the most is that you were playing me, and yet I didn’t even see it coming.”

  I back out of the driveway, leaving the woman I thought I was falling for—the woman I thought was falling for me—standing in the middle of it, tears streaking down her cheeks as she watches me drive away. That’s when my own tears begin to sting my eyes, and I let them.

  ***

  Ninety-six hours. That’s how many hours there are in the span of four days. And that’s how long it’s been since I talked to Megan in her aunt’s driveway.

  Since she lied to me.

  Since she cried, because I made her cry. Which made me feel even more like a dick than confronting her did. I’ve tried to push that self-loathing down over the past few days, reminding myself that she’s the one who had the intention of getting a piece and then running off back to Dallas, but I’ve been having a harder and harder time of believing that as the days pass by. The woman had seemed genuinely upset by my outburst, and I didn’t blame her for that. I had a wicked temper when I wanted to. She’d wanted to explain, to talk it out and salvage some semblance of friendship from this.

  She might have lied to me, but I can see now that I overreacted, too.

  And did she lie? Hell, I’m not even sure anymore. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe she wanted to tell me before then but couldn’t.

  I don’t even know if it matters now. It’s been four days, and Megan hasn’t tried to call or text me. She hasn’t rounded the corner of Main Street and come to see me at the repair shop.

  I haven’t done either of those things, either. Every time I think I should make an attempt at fixing this, a small part of my brain warns me that she kept the truth from me.

  Just like Ella did.

  There’s no way I can stand for that kind of deceit, not after the monumental lies that came about with Ella. I might have never even known I had a son if it hadn’t been her dying goddamn wish to tell me.

  I think that’s what wrecks me from the inside out—it took Ella being moments from death to admit the truth to me. Like I wasn’t worth it before that point. I’ve bounced back and forth between my love for that woman and my hatred for her since the day she died. I’ve heard it’s a fine line sometimes between love and hate, now I fucking believe it.

  Ella’s betrayal has turned me into a man that doesn’t know who to believe, who to trust. Then, the moment I trust someone, look how that turns out. The fact that Megan kept her plan to leave Cardon Springs from me, all the while letting me think that maybe this thing between us was something it’s not, just solidifies my heart’s choice to give up on trusting people entirely. It’s safer that way.

  “Craig?”

  The voice is loud and clear, even from where I lay, under the driver’s side of a Honda Civic.

  It’s also very familiar.

  “Nancy?” I roll the creeper out from under the car, staring up at her from the floor. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in this shop before. There aren’t any appointment times available for—”

  “I’m not here about my car, Craig,” she interjects. “I’m here about Meg.”

  I sit up slowly, knowing I’m covered in grease and smelling like motor oil. “Meg. Is she okay?”

  Nancy tucks her tongue into the side of her mouth. It makes me think she’s ready to chew the damn thing off just so she doesn’t say the words she’s so close to spitting at me. “Depends on how you define okay,” she replies. She glances over at her niece’s car, still parked in the other garage bay. The parts I ordered showed up yesterday but I’ve been up to my eyeballs in other appointments so haven’t done the work on it yet. “You hurt her, Craig.”

  A long sigh falls from my lips, and I struggle to my feet. “Nancy, maybe I shouldn’t have reacted quite the way I did, but Megan didn’t—”

  “Didn’t go to the job interview,” she says loudly. “She didn’t go to the job interview, didn’t run back to Dallas, and she sure as hell didn’t ask for you to shove her indecisiveness in her face. The girl’s been through enough.”

  In all my years of knowing Nancy, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a curse word come from her mouth. Or anything that resembles a confrontation, for that matter. But here she is, standing in the repair shop that I own, giving me shit and treating me like the ten-year-old she obviously still thinks of me as.

  But all I can seem to focus on is that Megan didn’t attend the interview in Dallas. “I admit, I shouldn’t have lost my cool the way I did.” She didn’t go back to Dallas. “I didn’t realize Megan stayed in town. I hadn’t seen her, so I thought she’d decided—”

  “This town may be small, but it isn’t small enough that a woman can’t avoid a man when she wants to.”

  Fair enough. So, she’s purposely been making sure she doesn’t see m
e. That doesn’t help the gnawing sensation of guilt that’s eating away at me. “I thought she’d gone back to Dallas, Nancy.”

  She nods her head. “You’ve still got her car, so how exactly do you think that’d work?”

  Damn, Nancy is on a roll today. But she’s right, I’ve ignored everything except the hurt I’ve been feeling. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. Then, I realize I said it out loud and wince, seeing Nancy’s disapproving glare. “I messed up,” I say finally, letting out another long breath. “She said she wanted to give this thing between her and I a shot, so when I heard her say she planned to leave town, and that she had that interview...”

  “Megan did say she wanted to leave Cardon Springs,” Nancy states. “But right after she said that, her next words were At least I think I want to.” She locks her gaze with mine. “You’re the reason she second-guessed her decision, Craig. And I’ve got to say, I don’t think she’s ever second-guessed anything in her life. But her feelings for you made her wonder. Made her think. She just needed time,” she says, her head tilting to one side slightly. “Just like you did.”

  I feel my throat move as I swallow down the lump of emotion. “Maybe I need more time.”

  “Maybe you need to realize she’s not Ella.”

  Nancy’s words hit me like a slap across the face. “I never said she was,” I stammer, suddenly regretting the evenings I’ve sat across from Nancy at her dining room table, tea in hand, wishing for something stronger as I told her everything about Ella and her betrayals.

  “You didn’t have to. You overreacted because you automatically assumed Meg was going to lie to you the same way Ella did.” The older woman takes a step forward and scoops my black-stained hand up in hers. “You need to stop blaming others for what happened, Craig. You need to stop blaming yourself.”

  Words can’t get past the thickness of my throat as I struggle to keep my composure. I breathe in, breathe out, until I can manage to choke out, “I couldn’t save her.”