“Ever been on a gondola?” he asks, squeezing my hand.
“No. Is that what we’re doing?” I practically yell with excitement.
Ten minutes after Rhett finishes checking in, my sandals are in one hand, while the other wraps around his neck as he lifts me up in his arms. “Care to take a ride, ma’am?” His animated Texan accent makes my giggle. Our guide, Sammy, immediately introduces himself and raises my hand for a kiss.
“Oh my God. This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” I tell Rhett as he sits down beside me. “Besides watching you on the ice of course. Oh, and listening to you speak like a true Texan.”
“I couldn’t be happier treating you to the coolest thing you’ve ever done … darlin’.” He leans over and gently kisses my lips.
“For the lady.” Sammy hands me a small platter of chocolates and petit fours, then gives us both a cup of delicious-smelling, marshmallow-topped hot chocolate.
“Oh yum.” I lift a small square piece of chocolate and feed it to Rhett.
Sammy stands behind us, and we leave the canal. I’m sipping on the indulgent chocolaty heaven when he starts singing what appears to be Italian love songs. I’ve never done anything so romantic, and tears sting my eyes. Rhett takes the platter of desserts from me and sets them on his other side, moving closer, his leg brushing mine. He wraps his arm around me, and my head falls against his shoulder as we quietly cruise through Lake Carolyn, listening to the sound of the passing waterfalls and looking up at the biggest, brightest moon I’ve ever noticed.
After the hour-long ride, Rhett tips Sammy a hundred dollars and we head back to the car. Everything about this guy a surprise, he’s anything but what I’ve labeled professional athletes in the past. He acts normal. Doesn’t pretend he’s God’s gift. Doesn’t look down at average people or walk around with the whole “look at me, I’m special” kind of swagger. He’s just … Rhett.
“Thank you so much for that. It was absolutely beautiful.”
He starts to speak when his cell phone dings. He pulls the phone from his pocket and looks down at the incoming text. His gaze is suddenly strange, his eyes far away. His jaw clenches as he looks at me with a wan stare.
“I’m sorry, Kass, but I’m going to have to take you home. Something’s come up.”
A little curious and a lot disappointed, I stay silent as my mind races to figure out what’s happened. Yet, he doesn’t say another word.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rhett
I’ve become an expert at hiding the truth behind a smile.
It’s nine PM when I return to my car. Anxious, I reach for my phone to read the texts I’ve ignored while driving Kass home. They’re all from Lake.
I need to talk to you.
Call me, dammit.
What the fuck, Rhett?
****
Next morning, another night of fitful sleep, I wake up groggy as hell after hours of going through Lindy’s belongings and boxing them up for Lake. Unfair doesn’t even begin to define this shit show. With karma having its fucked-up way, some of the worst things simply happen to the best of people.
Today is game day, and I should be resting. Instead, the next thing I know, I’m pounding out a set of weights guaranteed to leave my ass shaky and sore. “Down with the Sickness” by Disturbed is blaring over the speakers as I finish a third set of chin-ups, a combination of dread and adrenaline flying through my blood. Thoughts of Kass and the abrupt ending to our date have me wanting to call and apologize. Hell, she didn’t even question me when I told her I needed to go without a decent explanation.
Once again, I’m feeling the intense need to tell her everything. Be honest and hope she might understand. Kass is a smart woman. Confident she knows about Lindy, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t realize just how hard I’m still struggling to put this behind me and become human again.
There’s no winner in this situation. No matter what I do or say, somebody loses. Ends up alone.
Noon comes around and I’m dressed, headed out to the rink for an afternoon game against the Bruins. My head spins with unsteady, dazed worry and uncertainty.
More hours ahead of lurking with apprehension.
Overflowing trials and tribulations.
Questions I still can’t answer. Faces I still don’t remember.
Unresolved matters that fill every second of every damn day.
Wishing things were different, I have Kass to consider now. Her feelings. Her future. Fuck, I already miss her. I won’t deny it. Dammit, I can’t. After backing into my usual parking spot, I lock the car door and send off a quick text while I head to the dressing room.
Can I see you tonight?
“You look like shit, man.” Tack and I take a seat in the dressing room. Images flash through my mind for a few seconds. “You okay, Gentry?”
Still rubbing the fatigue behind my eyes, I answer with a solemn, clipped, “Rough night.”
Tack knows the look, the tone of my voice. He doesn’t ask for further explanation as we finish dressing and head for the ice to warm up.
After Nielson, who happens to be a defenseman, manages to catch a deflection midair, he drops the puck down, batting at it like a baseball swing from an impossible angle, and manages to tuck a puck in the last thirty seconds of the game. I can’t stand the arrogant prick, but the play was nonetheless a damn good inventive goal. Barely scraping by, we get through the grueling afternoon game with a one-goal win. No help from me, I fucking sucked on the ice. I head off to change and shower, tossing a puck toward a smiling, curly-haired little girl. So damn cute.
“Rhett!” Coach calls me out, motioning me over to where he’s standing to avoid the rest of the team as they head back to the locker room.
“You looked like hell today. I need you in one piece, Gentry. Go home and get some damn rest.”
I shrug, knowing I really do need an hour or two to get my sanity back. Last night left me drained and mentally exhausted. I never realized how difficult going through Lindy’s personal belongings would be. All the photos. Every damn card from every flower arrangement I’d ever sent her. The fucking pictures from Vegas. Maui. I boxed nearly all of them up, keeping a few that I couldn’t part with. As soon as I make a quick trip by Lake’s condo, I’ll take Coach’s advice and head home for some much-needed relaxation. With an upcoming trip to Columbus, I need to find a way to close my eyes for more than two hours at a time. Otherwise, I’m not going to be worth two shits to the team.
“I appreciate it, Coach. Got no sleep last night. Another bad one.”
Only responding with a quick nod, he needs no more clarification to justify my lack of contribution to the game. He knows what I’m dealing with. They all do.
After a ninety-second shower, I walk to my car with Tack beside me.
“You need anything, man?” he asks with a hand on my shoulder. “Anything at all. You know I’m only a phone call away.”
“I’m good. Just need a little shuteye. I’ll be good as new tomorrow.”
“Okay. Come on then. Let’s get you out of here.” He watches me get in my car, giving me a short nod. “Take it easy, Gentry.”
“Thanks, man.”
Behind the wheel, I check my phone.
I’ll be home by six. Wanna have dinner at my place?
After a quick response, I drop off the three boxes at Lake’s place and tell her goodbye for what’s likely the last time before she moves back to Florida, then head home. It takes forty-five minutes longer than I anticipated trying to get through insane Dallas weekend traffic, but finally I’m home. My clothes in a jumbled pile beside the bed, I crawl underneath the sheets, desperate for a few minutes of sleep. The familiar scent once filling the bedroom is gone. There’s nothing but the smell of clean linens now that the housekeeper is back on schedule.
My hands against my temples, I rub them hard, chasing at the headache trying to make its way behind my eyes. Slammed with another bout of guilt so strong, I literally feel it spira
ling through my spine. My eyes instantly tear up, which I fucking detest. I ease them shut and luckily fall into a deep sleep minutes later.
When I awake, the clock reads 5:15 PM. I scratch at my jaw, amazed that I actually slept. It feels so damn good for a change. Kass expects me at seven, so I take another shower and dress in jeans and a black button-down. I’m dying to see her. My moral sense stabs at me, but I can’t shake it.
Somehow, she already means too much.
A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky as I park beside her Camry and grab the bottle of Merlot I picked up on the way. It’s definitely going to storm, and I look off to nowhere really, memories flashing back, my chest clutching.
Polar hates storms, babe. Can’t he sleep inside just this once?
Kass answers the door smiling, the smell of something amazing bringing on a deep rumble in my gut. I lean in for a kiss.
“Hi,” I whisper against her lips, which taste so damn good. Staring deep into her warm blue gaze, I stroke her hair. It feels good to see her. She’s so beautiful. She feels soft and delicate as I pull her against me gently, inhaling the sweet feminine scent of her hair, her shoulders, her breath. Frantic to touch her, I want to simply pull her in my lap and kiss her until we’re both out of breath.
Jesus, this woman.
“Hi yourself,” she says, jumping at the sudden crack of thunder that shakes the walls of the apartment. “God, I hate storms.” As she inches in close, her smile is so full of innocence and unsuspecting, it feels like an exploding livewire between us.
“Come here, doll.” I reach for her hips, dragging her against me even tighter, every part of my body hard with need as I run my hands over all her soft curves before ending up tugging through the thick strands of her hair with one hand, while the other covers her beautiful ass cheek.
Her expression is laced with sensuality and sexual need as she gives me a satisfying groan, which I swallow with another kiss. She lifts her hand, placing it on my chest and pressing in a way that has me wanting to reach for the buttons on her soft white sweater and rip it wide open.
“Here. Let’s go in the kitchen before dessert burns.” She takes my hand, leading me to the fantastic smell of what I believe, if I’m not mistaken, is apple pie.
“What—the—fuck is that amazing smell?” Massive aromas of butter and cinnamon-coated apples smell like heaven on earth. “Please tell me that’s what I think it is. I haven’t eaten apple pie in at least two years.”
She smiles, her face radiating goodness and solid femininity.
“It is,” she whispers. “Believe it or not, I’m a pretty freaking amazing cook,” she points out, opening up the oven to the delectable concoction that’s making my mouth water.
“Very well noted, sweetheart.” I lean in and press another quick kiss against her forehead after she sets the freshly baked pie on the back burner of the oven. “From what I’ve witnessed firsthand, you’re freaking amazing at more than just baking.” I cover her lips with mine and kiss her deeply, my dick instantly straining against her warm body.
“I missed you, Kass.” I breathe in her scent again, wondering if the time is right to sit her down and explain my situation. Lying isn’t something I condone. Always an honest man, right now I can’t stand the thought of telling her I’m nowhere near ready for anything serious. She wouldn’t understand that it’s got nothing to do with her. It doesn’t. She’ll think I’m just looking for an easy fuck. I’m not.
“Again, my apologies for screwing up a perfectly wonderful evening last night. Duty called, I’m afraid. Hope you don’t think I’m being an ass again,” I say with a thin-lipped smile.
“You didn’t screw up anything,” she says quietly, her lips slanting into a sweet smile as she rubs my lower back while I fight the urge to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and take her to her bedroom where I can feast on her body until deep hours of the night.
“Last night was amazing. I’ll never forget it.” She backs up just a little, flashing another smile that once again makes everything bad seem just a little brighter. A long, heavy minute ticks by. Kass is quiet while I feel like a fucking asshole for not offering her a real explanation.
“Hope you’re hungry.”
“Famished,” I respond with a wicked lift of my eyebrows.
Her eyes gleam with hazy sensuality as her tongue sweeps over her lower lip. This heated chemistry between us turns me so damn hard that my loins ache.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kass
Dinner flies by. We talk hockey. Hair. Discuss Thanksgiving and the reasons I spent the holiday with Darci and her live-in boyfriend instead of my parents. Nothing else is mentioned about last night and the sudden ending to our date. Of course, I don’t ask. And won’t.
Eight PM finds me feeling oddly domesticated, and I almost feel like this could really become something … more. Rhett helps clears off the kitchen table after a meal of chicken picatta and my favorite chopped Italian salad, like he’s done it a million times. Like he’s perfectly comfortable returning food items to the refrigerator and wiping off countertops. My memory darts back to his direct language and controlling moves during lovemaking. His jealousy. His anger over my jeans that had an inch-long distressed rip in the back of my thigh, instead of underneath my ass as he claimed. Jekyll and Hyde. Dominant.
My stomach flutters with butterflies and chills cover my whole body when he comes behind me and wraps his arms around my waist while I place two plates with pie crumbs in the sink. The air in the room turns warm, along with everything between my thighs.
“You’re an excellent cook,” he whispers, smiling at my ear. “And strikingly beautiful.” He brushes kisses against my earlobe, moisture pooling between my thighs as his breath tickles me, and I inhale the masculine scent of his body. I want him again, my body already helplessly wet with desire. Need throbs deep in my belly and I find myself smiling, feeling a little strange at how comfortable I feel around him. Yet, I’m not a total idiot. Rhett’s been a widower for less than a year. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know I need to carefully guard my feelings.
“And you, Rhett Gentry, are notably romantic and very superior … on the ice … and off.” I feel his mouth curve into another smile against my neck and I shift to face him. Before I can turn around, he’s already done that for me, spinning me in one quick second and pulling me against his chest. Another inhale of his male scent has me moaning soft sounds of pleasure, already pulled under his spell again. My body quickly softens against him as I explore his face and eyes, wondering what kind of thoughts lurk behind that stare and when and if he’ll ever tell me he was married.
He gazes down at me and bows over, kissing the top of my head while his lips linger.
“Superior? I think I like that term.”
“And you should,” I tease, my hands roaming the firm muscle of his back, my nipples hard as bullets at how turned on he’s already managed to make me.
“Your hair always smells so nice,” he says, his lips still resting against my head.
“Hair stylists should probably have nice smelling hair. It might be bad for business, otherwise.”
He takes my long strands between his hands, pulling it tightly behind my neck. His lips widen with a sensual smile, making me realize how much more drawn to him I’m becoming each time I see him. The playboy hockey player who’s really not a player. The wealthy professional athlete that doesn’t flaunt his money or popularity obnoxiously. He doesn’t come off as being any of that. He’s sensitive. Mindful. Fun. Probably Dominant.
And quite possibly hiding a hint of sadness underneath his strapping outward appearance.
We’re both silent. With my hair still in a tight grip behind my neck, my gaze freezes on his clenching jaw and beautiful thick lips. His eyes are brimming with desire, and he drops his mouth onto mine, my body instantly on fire from the sounds of his deep-chested groan.
“I want inside you, Kass.” His slate-blue gaze takes ev
ery breath from my chest as I feel his hardening erection behind his jeans. I nod, letting him know I want the same. My fingertips wind around his waist and ease down over his muscular ass. “I’m so damn hard for you, sweetheart.”
“I want you, too,” I whisper, feeling susceptible and vulnerable. So damn turned on.
He reaches for my hips and pulls me up around his body, my legs automatically wrapping around his torso. With a throaty groan, he rolls his hard shaft around my belly and walks us toward the bedroom, the delectable pounding between my thighs still alive and fresh from forty-eight hours ago.
He’s kissing my neck as we reach the bedroom, his peppered jawline purposely teasing my skin. Gently, he releases me, laying me back on the bed and covering my body with his. His lips against my neck again, he gently nips right underneath my ear with his teeth, then instantly covers the small, biting sting with moist licks of his tongue.
Soft and responsive eyes blaze with heat as he stares down at me.
“Jesus, woman. What are you doing to me?” He shakes his head, a look in his eyes that has me asking myself again if his words are sincere or if I’m simply rebound material. My chest flickers with apprehension and disappointment at the thought. “You make me want to crack open every guideline I have and throw the pieces all to hell.”
Our eyes are locked, but he breaks it off, blinking with another sigh as his body tenses.
“And you … I don’t know. I’m confused, Rhett. Are you sure you really want to be here?”
Please say you do. Please don’t let me be a mercy date.
His eyes dart back toward mine, his palms instantly reaching for my cheeks.
“Oh God, Kass,” he says, the pain, or whatever I still see deep in his gaze, forcing the breath from me. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
His eyes turn soft as he palms my cheeks. Warm, sweet pleasure fills me, and my intuition disappears in a quick flash when his hands leave my face and move down, caressing my belly and the length of my thighs. He slips off my leggings and panties and grips my hips, flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
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