A Perfect Catch

by Anna Sugden

  “Absolutely.”

  They both grinned.

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Maggie said as she laid Joe in his Moses basket. He didn’t stir.

  “What’s that?” Tracy smiled at her sleeping nephew.

  “What exactly Ike said or did to make you change your mind about working with him.”

  Tracy groaned inwardly. She’d hoped her sister had forgotten that particular subject. “I told you—it was a smart business move.”

  “And that’s really all there is to it?” Maggie’s tone was skeptical.

  “Of course.” But even as she spoke, Tracy’s mind flipped back to that moment in the hospital room when she and Ike had shaken hands to seal the deal.

  She could almost feel the electricity that had tingled the palm of her hand. When his thumb had caressed the back of her hand, that tingle had spread all the way up her arm. Her heart jolted now, as it had when their gazes had met and she’d seen the fire in his green eyes.

  Tracy fought the urge to moisten her lips. That would be too much of a giveaway. Instead she took a deep breath and tried to look unaffected.

  “Why do I think there’s more to this than you’re telling me?” Maggie tapped a finger against her lips, as if musing.

  Feigning innocence, Tracy shrugged. “Ike and I have always rubbed each other the wrong way.”

  “I think the problem is that you rub each other the right way.”

  “The physical side of things was never the issue,” Tracy admitted reluctantly. “Our relationship didn’t work because we were too different. Once the lust faded, we didn’t have much else going for us.” Still, it had been glorious while it had lasted.

  “As you once asked me, why do you need to have a relationship? Can’t you guys have another hot fling, then go back to annoying each other?”

  Tracy smacked down her body’s reaction. “I won’t mix business with pleasure.”

  “Ah, but you said yourself the business won’t take long. This could be an opportunity for you to give things another go.”

  “I don’t know that I want to try again. The end was awful last time. Let’s face it, Ike hasn’t changed and neither have I.”

  “That’s not quite true. You’ve both mellowed since I came to the States.”

  “All right. Maybe we haven’t changed enough or in the right way.” Was that why she felt so unsettled? Because she couldn’t be sure.

  “But maybe you have. Isn’t it worth finding out?”

  Tracy didn’t want to admit that she was scared—if it didn’t work out, she sensed the pain would be far worse than the last time—so she hedged, “Let’s see how things pan out. If Ike and I haven’t killed each other by the time our business is done, maybe I’ll consider it.”

  “Good grief. For someone who encouraged me—I’d go as far as to say practically bullied me—to take a chance on Jake, you’re being ridiculously coy.”

  “And for someone who was gun-shy about dating again, especially a hockey player, you’re being ridiculously gung ho about me and Ike. Not that there is a ‘me and Ike.’”

  “Yet. But I wouldn’t rule it out. If you gave it a shot, you might be pleasantly surprised. At least you’d have a hot few days.” Maggie waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

  Tracy shook her head at her sister’s antics. “I wonder how much time I’d get for justifiable homicide.”

  “I don’t know. But remember—as Joe’s godmother, you’d inherit nappy duty.”

  “Joe, you just saved your mother’s life.”

  Maggie leaned forward and placed her hand on Tracy’s. “You deserve to be happy. I want you to have what Jake and I have.”

  “I’d love that, too. I just don’t think it will be with Ike.” No matter how much she might want it to be.

  Tracy’s pulse jumped. Where had that thought come from?

  Before she could analyze that any further, Maggie squeezed her hand. “Promise me that if the opportunity arises, you won’t reject it straight away.”

  Tracy hesitated. Was she really considering another go round with Ike? Her head told her that would be foolish, but her heart whispered that she’d be a fool not to try.

  The stunning truth was that Tracy wanted to listen to her heart. “I promise.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IKE STOOD AT the window of the hospital ward’s sunroom the following afternoon and watched a plane climbing into the wintry sky.

  He didn’t know if it was the jet carrying his teammates out to the west coast for a four-game road trip, but it might as well be. He wouldn’t see anyone from the Ice Cats for at least a week. Even once they were back in town, they had a pair of back-to-back games, so no one would have time to stop by.

  Ike used his good arm to rub the ache in his chest. He hated feeling left out. And he hated feeling alone.

  He’d heard other players talk about how hard it was to be out with a long-term injury—the loneliness, the isolation—but he’d never experienced it himself. Even on the few occasions he’d been unable to play, Ike had always been with the team. He’d gone to the practice arena, seen the trainers and medics, hung around with the healthy players.

  This was different.

  He was on his own. Away from the action. Away from the guys. The inactivity was bad enough, but the silence was hell.

  It hadn’t even been a week since his accident and he was going crazy. He had months of this to look forward to. At least it was only months. There had been a couple of dark moments over the past few days, especially late at night, when Ike had felt so weak and been in so much pain that he’d wondered if his arm would ever be right again. The thought that his career might be over terrified him.

  Even now, in bright daylight, with all Doc Gibson’s assurances, Ike couldn’t help wondering how he’d cope if this wasn’t just temporary. If he never played again. If this isolation was permanent. Hockey was all he’d known for so long, he couldn’t get his head around life without it. Worse, who he’d be if he didn’t have hockey.

  He wouldn’t think about that or he’d drive himself nuts.

  At least he’d finally been allowed out of bed, even if he couldn’t wander farther than the end of the hall. He’d been shocked by how shaky his legs had been walking to this dayroom. He’d almost stumbled several times, as though he’d been bedridden for months, not a few days. Perhaps he hadn’t made up for all the blood he’d lost. It was easier to think that than to admit how seriously he’d been hurt.

  It felt good to be back in his own clothes, too, though having the young nurse help him was another indignity he could have done without. She’d had to massacre the Ice Cats sweatshirt Kenny had brought him; she’d split it down the left seam, chopped off the sleeve, then safety-pinned it all together to allow access for his immobilized arm. There had been no way to pull his jeans on one-handed other than to ask for help. Right after that, he’d called his mom and asked her to bring him sweatpants next time she visited.

  Ike was beginning to realize he was in for a rougher ride than he’d thought. Every action reinforced how tough it was to do even simple things with only one arm. He was no longer as confident as he’d been about how he’d cope at home by himself.

  At least by Friday, he’d be figuring it out in the privacy of his own home. Assuming Tracy came up with a plan that would convince the tight-assed surgeon to sign the damn release papers.

  Ike’s heart kicked at the thought of seeing her again. He looked up at the clock on the gray wall. Less than an hour to go.

  They were like oil and water every time they were together. Or was it fire and dynamite? Either way, he shouldn’t be grinning like a freaking Cheshire cat.

  He forced his curved lips into a straight line. Tracy was coming to see him on business, not to party between the sh
eets. She’d be quoting figures and terms, not whispering sweet nothings. Not that she’d ever whispered sweet anything. Hot and spicy, for sure, but not sweet. Like the night he’d moved into his house, when she’d asked him to choose which room he wanted to christen first. He’d practically lost it right there in the front hall as she’d described—in tantalizingly explicit detail—what his options were.

  Ike swore and leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane, willing his body not to react to the memories. He had to remember that all she cared about was growing her business and keeping her independence. One day, he’d find someone who heated his blood and wanted marriage and kids. He didn’t need to settle for anything less than the whole package, no matter how great Tracy was at the first part.

  His cell rang. Grateful for the interruption, Ike reached for it. The stiff fabric of his new sling rasped against the back of his neck, reminding him that he wasn’t supposed to move his arm. Swearing under his breath, Ike used his good hand to pull the damn phone out of his pocket before grinding out a hello.

  “Is it a good sign that you’re growling like a grizzly?” Tru teased.

  Ordinarily, Ike would have given his brother the verbal equivalent of the bird, but he was so pleased to talk to someone who wasn’t on the medical staff, he let the comment slide. “You’d be pissed, too, if you were stuck in this place.”

  “Aww, aren’t those lovely nurses cooing over you enough?” Tru laughed.

  Ike bit back the urge to whine about them being mean to him. His brother had enough to rag him about.

  “I have to fight them off with a stick,” he drawled. “But you can have too much of a good thing.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, they do say women love to take care of a helpless, injured man. Guess that’s true even for a miserable SOB like you.”

  “If you weren’t in Denver, I’d show you how helpless I am. Even one-armed I can still kick your butt, little brother.”

  “Brave words when you can’t act on them.”

  “Back at ya.”

  “I can handle whatever you throw at me, net boy.” Tru’s tone became serious. “I wish we weren’t so far away, so we could help you.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but you and Jenny should be focusing on my soon-to-be nephews or nieces, not worrying about me.”

  Tru’s wife was expecting twins in the spring. “We are. Everything’s going smoothly.”

  “Glad to hear it. Take good care of her.”

  “Trust me, I plan to spend a lifetime doing just that.”

  The warmth in his brother’s voice tugged at Ike’s heart. He was pleased that Tru and Jenny had finally overcome their traumatic past of terrible secrets and bitter betrayal, and found happiness together. They seemed to complement and complete each other. Whatever happened, whatever lay ahead, they’d face it together.

  Even as their love made him envious as hell, it gave Ike hope that someday he might find the right woman, too. If he ever got out of this damn hospital. “Yet another downside of this injury is that I’ll miss seeing you guys when the Cats are in Denver on Monday.”

  “Yeah, that sucks. Maybe you can fly out during the All-Star break, since you won’t be playing this year.” Tru stopped, as if realizing what he’d said. “Crap, man. I’m sorry.”

  Ike hid his disappointment with his own jab. “At least I’ll know I wasn’t selected because I’m injured. What’s your excuse?”

  “My stats are looking damn fine this season. Either way, since the All-Star game is in Denver, I’ll be around.”

  “Nice catch.”

  “Almost as good as one of yours.”

  Ike sighed. “As good as I was. Who knows how my arm will work once I’m healed up.”

  “The doc said you shouldn’t have any problems, right?”

  “Sure. But plenty of players have found their reflexes weren’t as sharp after a serious injury. You never know until you get out there and start playing again.”

  “I know, because I know you. Whatever it takes, you’ll make damn sure you’re good enough again.”

  Ike hoped so. The alternative wasn’t worth thinking about.

  Tru continued. “Don’t think negatively or you’ll drive yourself crazy. Turn your mind to something positive. Find a new hobby. Oh, wait, don’t you need two hands to knit?”

  “Good thing you can skate, bro, because you’d never make a living at stand-up.” Ike paced back and forth across the room, suddenly feeling restless. “You sound like Ma. She said this is the perfect time for me to start thinking about my future outside the game.”

  “Seriously? I know she mixes up her words, but I can’t believe she’d want you to consider retirement.”

  “Not retirement—dating.” Ike waited while his brother laughed his ass off. “She thinks that since I can’t catch pucks, I should focus on catching myself the perfect woman.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Your injury will win the sympathy vote.”

  “Right. Except I can’t do anything about it because I can’t move my arm.”

  “Let her do the work, bro. As they say, ‘lie back and think of England.’”

  Ike’s mind made the connection between England and Tracy and in a flash was back where he’d started before the phone rang. He didn’t need his imagination to picture Tracy “doing the work.” He had the memories. Blood-pounding, groin-tightening memories. “Maybe. Once I’m out of this place.”

  “When will you be discharged?”

  Ike stopped in front of the window again. Another jet was taking off. “I want to be out of here on Friday.”

  “So soon?”

  “I’ll be ready. Hell, I’m ready now.”

  “Mom said Tracy’s helping you.”

  “Yeah, so? That’s her business. Why shouldn’t I hire her?” He winced at the defensive note in his voice.

  “You two don’t exactly get along. Just saying.”

  “We can put our differences aside for mutual benefit.”

  “That’s very mature and adult of you.” Tru’s tone was mocking.

  “What can I say? It goes with me being the eldest. Besides, it’s the only way I’ll get out of here on Friday.”

  Behind him, someone cleared her throat.

  Ike whipped around to see Tracy standing in the doorway.

  His mouth went dry at her intriguing blend of professional and sexy. The fitted red jacket, nipped in at the waist, and black pencil skirt were elegant, yet emphasized her delicious figure. Sheer black hose and black high-heeled pumps completed the picture. No-nonsense, yet at the same time, distinctly feminine.

  Man, how was he supposed to concentrate on business when his brain had just shorted out?

  “Gotta go, Tru,” he said quickly. “I’ll catch you later.”

  “Keep me posted and follow the doc’s orders. We all want you back to full health ASAP.”

  They exchanged goodbyes, then Ike slipped his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. “Tru says hi.”

  Tracy smiled warmly as she came toward him, making him wish she would smile like that for him.

  “How are he and Jenny doing? Last time I spoke with Jenny, she was struggling with the altitude and morning sickness.”

  He grimaced. “Uh, yeah. I think that’s all done with now. Sounds like they’re pretty settled.”

  “Great. Moving out to Denver was a big enough upheaval for them both, without having to worry that Jenny might lose the babies.”

  “I know the way your company managed everything for them and made it go so smoothly was a huge help.”

  “Thanks. We do our best.” She sounded pleased. “Now, let’s sort you out so you can go home.”

  “The sooner, the better. Can I say again how grateful I am that you’re doing this for me?” Ike touched
her shoulder, then realized she might think that was a little personal and dropped his hand.

  “Oh.” Surprise widened her eyes and a hint of color brushed her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his words or his touch. “You’re welcome. Shall we get started?”

  “For sure.” He indicated the couch with a coffee table in front of it. “Over here looks good—we can spread out the papers.”

  Tracy took the seat across the table from him and opened her briefcase.

  Ike pretended not to notice the way her skirt hiked up, showing even more of her legs, before she smoothed it down again. “Uh, would you like a drink?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” She pulled out a thick red folder, extracted a couple of documents and slid one across the table. “Why don’t I talk you through the main points and you can give me your thoughts on them?”

  “Sounds good.” He sat and picked up the sheets. “Shoot.”

  Once again, Ike was fascinated to see the transformation as Tracy slipped into work mode. She looked very much the successful businesswoman. He hadn’t seen this side of her the last time they’d worked together; she hadn’t yet developed this professional persona. He wasn’t sure he liked the change, though he couldn’t say why.

  Even the way she spoke changed, becoming brisker and more formal. “Per our discussion, I’ve provided information and given detailed pricing options for three services—a driver, a housekeeper and yard maintenance. I’ve also screened potential candidates for you. My recommendations are highlighted. Feel free to ask questions as I go along.”

  As Tracy went through her proposal, Ike was impressed by how thorough it was, after little more than a day. She’d always been good at her job. Now she was slick, organized and efficient. Clearly, she’d kicked everything up a gear. No wonder her business was thriving.

  Still, he couldn’t help missing the old Tracy.

  Ike forced his attention back to the proposal. He needed to be released. If the new Tracy could make that happen, fast, that was all that mattered.

  Turning to the last page, Tracy tapped the costing summary with her finger. “The housekeeper service has to be for a minimum of three months. You’ll also get a much better deal if you have the same driver for a specified period. Yard maintenance is flexible, but again, a fixed-period contract will work out better financially.”