So much for going in to the office. But that didn’t matter. Her baby was more important. And anyway, she could do some work here at home.
She wanted to go over to Nick’s place to find him, but she couldn’t leave Zyana, so she texted him. She’s sleeping. She’s okay.
He didn’t answer.
She wanted to know more about how their time had gone, other than Zee getting sick. Damn. Why’d this have to happen now? When she was away? She’d never mentioned to Nick that Zyana was prone to ear infections—why would she? So that was probably why he was freaked out.
Her eardrum had burst. Jodie pressed a hand to her heart. Hopefully the doctor was right, and she’d be okay. There’d been other times where Zee hadn’t shown any signs of being sick until she was really sick. The pediatrician they’d seen in New York had commented that she must have a high pain tolerance, to not complain until the infection was so bad that she was running a fever and very ill.
Jodie sat at her desk and tried to focus on work, but she was concerned about Zyana, keeping an eye on her, and worried about Nick and why he’d left so fast and hadn’t answered her text. Didn’t he care about Zyana?
She knew he did. She would never have left her daughter with him if she hadn’t seen how much he cared. How well he treated her.
Well, luckily it was the weekend. Zyana would be feeling better in a day or two, based on how she usually responded to the antibiotics, so she should be fine to go back to daycare on Monday. But they wouldn’t be going to the game on Sunday—the first game of the next round of the playoffs. She wrinkled her nose in disappointment. Ah well. They’d gotten used to cheering for Nick from the stands, but they could cheer for him from home.
* * *
—
Nick locked himself in his house and focused on nailing pieces of the wainscoting in the living room using his power finish nailer. He’d already measured, cut, and given the pieces one coat of white paint out in the garage, so now it was a matter of installing them.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about Zyana and Jodie.
He was queasy with worry about Zyana and racked with guilt. She’d ruptured her eardrum while he was looking after her. Jodie’d been horrified when he’d told her what had happened. She’d never forgive him, and he didn’t blame her.
He set his level on one of the bottom finishing pieces and squinted at it. He used a couple of shims to lift it slightly at one end…there. Perfect. He continued nailing.
Why had he been such an idiot as to offer to look after Zyana? And Jodie…she should have known better than to allow it. He was a complete fuckup.
He shook his head, pausing to apply some wood glue to a join. He fit one mitered edge against the other, checked with the level, and continued nailing.
He had to end things between them. He’d been ignoring that last text from Jodie, not wanting to face her again.
Then he remembered her saying to him, if they were going to be together, she had two requests. You have to tell me if you want to end things. No ghosting. Just tell me. And I’ll do the same.
And he’d agreed to that.
He sucked in a breath, pausing, crouched on the floor. He bent his head. He had to tell her. He had to sack up and face her.
He kept working though, making his way around the room until all the bottom pieces were installed. Now for the chair rail. He measured twenty-two inches and marked the corners of the room, then snapped a chalk line. He’d already found and marked the studs, but he used a pencil to transfer the locations to the chalk line. Then he set about nailing those pieces in place.
Nick caught himself at one point about to use the wrong piece of wood and sighed. He needed to focus.
Right.
The sour ache in his gut was making it hard.
Jesus. He had a Stanley Cup playoff game in two days. He needed to get his head on straight.
When would he talk to Jodie? He couldn’t keep ignoring her. But Zyana was sick. Maybe it would be better to wait a couple of days.
No. He was bullshitting himself. He had to do this, not just for her, but for himself. He’d be a wreck for the game if he didn’t get this over with.
Fuck. He didn’t want to do it. But it was for the best. For all of them.
He worked all afternoon until his back was aching. The room was looking good though. He had the bigger pieces in place including the stiles. He’d work on the smaller pieces, like the picture frame moldings, tomorrow. He also needed to fill the nail holes with wood putty and sand them, but his plan was to wait until everything was done and do it all at once.
He stood, arching his back with a hand there to stretch out stiff muscles. He’d need to stretch well tomorrow.
He washed up, dread turning his stomach to a stone at the thought of going over to the coach house. His limbs felt heavy and stiff.
He gathered up the toy hockey set Zyana had left there since he had more room in his house, along with a couple of her plastic cups. He paused in front of his fridge, eyeing the art stuck there with magnets…colorful, crazy drawings Zyana had done and presented to him. His heart constricted hard enough to choke off his breath. Goddammit.
He headed over to the coach house. The late-afternoon sun was obscured by clouds, the air damp and cool. It looked like it was going to rain.
Jodie answered the door with a half-smile on her lips, her eyes curious but wary. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He lifted the things in his arms. “Brought some stuff back.”
Her eyebrows tugged down, but she stepped aside. “Okay.”
He walked in and set the cups on the island, the hockey sticks, net, and balls on the floor near her desk. He glanced over at the couch, where Zyana was sitting up looking at some books, still with the blanket tucked around her. She looked a little better—brighter eyed, and her hair had been brushed.
“Nick!” She waved. “Hi.”
“Hi, princess. Feeling better?” He walked toward her.
“No. I need woot beer, but we don’t have any.”
He glanced at Jodie. “No root beer, huh?”
She smiled wryly. “Unfortunately, no.”
He set his palm gently on Zyana’s forehead. “You feel cooler. That’s good.”
His knees went soft. He almost dropped to the floor, wanting to gather the brave little sweetheart up in his arms in relief and gratitude. Luckily, she’d survived his inept care. He drew in a big breath, then turned to Jodie. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure.” Her eyes became guarded, and she moved to the kitchen, where they could keep an eye on Zyana but have a quiet conversation.
He followed her and set his hands on the island, gripping the edge of the stone so tightly it hurt. “I’m glad she’s okay. I want to apologize again for not taking better care of her. I think it just proves what I told you—I can’t be responsible for other people. I’m no good at that.”
She blinked, her lips parting.
“I shouldn’t have offered to look after her. And you and I should never have gotten involved. I feel like shit about this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed. His gut churned nastily. “But you made me promise to tell you if I wanted to end things, and, well…I want to end things.”
Her mouth quivered, but she just stared back at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I need to focus on hockey right now. This is messing with my head. I just don’t have it in me. I’m sorry.”
She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, and her eyes shone. Shit. She was going to cry.
But she didn’t. Her throat worked, but she nodded. “Okay. I understand. Thanks for being honest.”
“You both need someone who can take care of you. And that’s not me.”
Her eyes narrowed and flashed. “What?” Her shoulders went back,
and her chin lifted. “What?” She glared. “That’s where you’re wrong. We don’t need anyone to take care of us.”
“I just meant—”
“I don’t need anyone in my life,” she continued through a tight jaw. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want anyone in my life. But for sure I don’t want a coward.”
He jerked back as if slapped.
Her face was flushed and her eyes still looked shiny, but her chin was set, her mouth firm. “Goodbye, Nick.”
He couldn’t move. Walking away from her was so fucking hard. His feet were glued to the floor. His skin was hot, his insides frozen. His breath came in short, shallow bursts that weren’t giving his brain enough oxygen, because he couldn’t think. All he knew was, he felt like his chest was being sawed open with a rusty blade.
He gave a short nod, willing himself to move. “I’m sorry. Bye, Jodie.”
He glanced over at Zyana. Probably better to not make a big deal of it with her. “Bye, princess.” His voice came out rough and rusty.
“You awe going?” She lifted her head.
“Yeah.” He attempted a smile, his eyes burning. “See you.”
“Bye, Nick.”
He walked out into the rain. He turned his face up to the sky as he trudged the path to his back door, letting the cool rain mingle with the hot liquid escaping his eyes.
Chapter 24
Before he got to the house, Nick changed his mind.
He turned around and trudged back toward the coach house…and past it, into his garage. He hit the button to open the big door, climbed into his vehicle, and started it. A few minutes later he was at a convenience store a few blocks away. And moments after that, back in his garage.
He hiked to the door of the coach house and rapped on it, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Jodie opened it, her face pale, her eyes sad. Her eyebrows pulled down at seeing him again.
“Here.” He handed her the big bottle of root beer with shaking hands. “For Zyana.”
Her bottom lip pushed out and trembled as she took it from him, looking at him with wide, questioning, hurting eyes.
Sweat broke out on his forehead and prickled his underarms.
He turned and headed to his house.
In his kitchen, he found the bottle of Gran Patrón Piedra in the cupboard and carried it and a glass upstairs to the family room.
He knew this was a bad idea. He had an important playoff game the day after tomorrow. A practice tomorrow. He had to be in the best shape he could possibly be, not hungover, dehydrated, and depressed.
Right at this moment…he didn’t care.
He’d be fine.
He swallowed the tequila, enjoying the heat spreading down his esophagus and into his belly.
He sprawled back into the couch, staring into space.
Last time he’d done this…Jodie had shown up. She’d sat with him. Drank with him. Talked to him. No, that wasn’t right. That day, she’d let him talk.
He didn’t like talking. But he’d sure spilled his guts that day. Must’ve been the tequila.
Right. It was Jodie.
She’d listened without judging. Comforted him. Supported him. He felt like he didn’t deserve that, but she made him want that.
He knew better than to get involved with people. He always let them down so badly. After his parents had died, he’d felt responsible for Aleks. Okay, even before they’d died, he’d felt that way. Aleks had been his best friend, his little brother, his partner in crime. They had hopes and dreams together. He’d taken that responsibility seriously. And in the end, he hadn’t been there for Aleks when he’d needed him most.
He gulped down more tequila.
Poor Zyana. He’d let her down too. And Jodie.
He was better off alone. And he knew that Jodie didn’t need a man in her life. She was strong and independent, smart and resourceful. But she’d find someone. Someone who was good enough for her, who’d be there for her and for Zyana. That was what he’d meant when he’d said that to her—not that she couldn’t live without a man.
The idea of another man in her life made his stomach heave.
She’d called him a coward.
That was wrong. He was doing the right thing for them, even though it was fucking killing him.
He remembered Zyana playing hockey with so much passion for such a small person. He remembered the funny things she said. He was going to miss her so damn much. A hard shudder rocked his chest.
Not as much as he’d miss Jodie. He closed his eyes as more memories reeled through his mind—the night they’d met, how she’d knocked him off balance with her talk about sex. Her making him laugh. Her making his heart ache with her love for her daughter. Her sexy moans and purrs when they fucked…the taste of her mouth, the feel of her skin, her tight body around him…
He groaned and leaned his head back.
He’d done the right thing by ending it with her before things went too far.
Then why did he feel like he’d just done a brutal round with the biggest, meanest enforcer in the NHL?
* * *
—
Jodie had to pretend everything was okay for Zyana’s sake. She couldn’t crumple up on the floor and sob. She had to keep a smile firmly in place and look after her daughter.
Maybe that was a good thing though.
Her heart ached so badly, but acting ordinary kept her going. She heated up soup for their dinner. Zyana ate a little and Jodie gave it a shot, but her stomach was so tense she was afraid anything she ate would come back up.
When Zyana dozed off on the couch again after dinner, she sat with her, staring into space.
Thinking about Nick.
Why did this hurt so much? They’d both been honest about their expectations going into this. She hadn’t expected anything long term. She knew she wasn’t going to find a man who’d accept her along with her daughter. A ready-made family. And Nick was the last guy who’d do that. He’d been honest about not wanting a family.
She let out a sigh. Somehow, even knowing that, her emotions had gotten involved. Maybe she hadn’t admitted it to herself, but deep down inside…she wanted more with Nick. She wanted long term. Maybe even…forever.
Dammit. She was falling in love with him.
Her heart landed in her throat, nearly choking her.
That should never have happened. God.
As she’d gotten to know him better, she’d seen past that gruff exterior to the man inside…the man who’d loved his brother and looked after him and still felt guilty about letting him down, even though it hadn’t been his fault that Aleks had committed suicide. The man of few words, who created beauty out of old furniture and an old house. The man who said he wanted to be left alone, but loved his friends and teammates, who played hockey and laughed with Zyana, who was so generous and caring with Jodie in bed…which made her think what he really wanted was what everyone wanted: Acceptance. Belonging. Love.
Anger flared hot and bright inside her. Coward.
She’d called him a coward, and it was true. He was too afraid to take a chance on having that love and acceptance he really wanted.
Well, fuck him. He could spend the rest of his life alone, if that’s what he wanted. She had her daughter and her friends and her employees, who were also friends. She’d be just fine without him.
Her bottom lip pushed out as tears stung her eyes, her breath leaving her all at once in an agonizing gasp.
She would be just fine. But right now…she hurt. Not only was her heart broken, her daughter’s heart was going to be broken too over losing Nick, and that just doubled the pain.
* * *
—
We won’t be going to the game tomorrow. Zyana’s sick.
Jodie sent the text message to Kendra.
&nb
sp; Oh no! Poor baby. Ear infection?
Yes.
Aw. I’ll stop over this afternoon. Need anything?
Ice cream.
What kind would she like?
It’s for me.
LOL Okay then, cookies and cream?
Perfect.
Kendra arrived later with two kinds of ice cream: cookies and cream for Jodie and strawberry for Zyana. As Jodie scooped the treat into bowls, her insides feeling hollow and empty, Kendra said, “So why the ice cream for you? You’re not getting sick, are you?”
“No.” She set a spoon in the bowl and carried it over to Zyana, ensconced on the couch again with blanket, pillow, toys, and books. There was no doubt Zyana was sick when she wasn’t running around or dancing. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
Jodie caught Kendra’s sympathetic expression. “Poor wee thing.”
“She’s doing a bit better today.” She told Kendra about the ruptured eardrum. “Nick was pretty freaked out.” She spooned up a mouthful of cookies and cream.
“Poor guy.”
“He’s an asshole.”
Kendra blinked. “What? Why?” She frowned. “Do you blame him for her ruptured eardrum?”
“No.” Jodie poked her ice cream. “I don’t think he could have done anything different. When they went to bed, he knew she wasn’t feeling well, but he didn’t know it was an ear infection until they woke up in the morning.”
“So why’s he an asshole, then?”
The words squeezed out through her tight throat. “He broke up with me.”
Kendra sucked in a breath. “Oh.” She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, regarding Jodie somberly. “Why?”
“Because he’s an asshole.”
Kendra snorted. “No other reason?”
She fought back the wave of tears that threatened. “He says he can’t handle being responsible for someone else. He needs to focus on hockey right now.”
“Huh.” Kendra paused. “Are you okay?”
Jodie’s bottom lip quivered. “Not really.”
Big Stick: An Aces Hockey Novel Page 24