“Yes. I already said he was an asshole,” Lori declared. “But you’re free now.”
“Yeah. Free.” Kendall couldn’t muster any enthusiasm, no matter how hard she tried. She thought for sure she’d celebrate the day the divorce became final. After all, it had drug on far too long, and with each passing day, she got more reminders of why it was the right thing to do. Carter didn’t want a partner, he wanted a possession. And now he had one, with his perfect younger girlfriend to look pretty on his arm and worship the ground he walked on. Yes, Carter was sure happy to be free. Kendall, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to embrace the happiness Lori seemed to think she should feel. Sure, she was relieved it was finally done, but in the end, all she felt was that she’d failed. Wasn’t marriage supposed to last forever?
“It’ll get better,” Lori said.
“Really now?” Kendall raised an eyebrow. “And how many divorces have you been through?” As much as she adored Lori, Lori had Bo. And therefore Lori had no idea what Kendall was dealing with.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Kendall smiled wryly. “You’re trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that, but maybe I’m not ready. Just like I’m not ready to date.”
“You say that now, but I bet you’ll change your mind as soon as some hot guy asks you out.” Her friend smirked. “And who knows, maybe he’ll be a hockey player.”
“Right.” Kendall rolled her eyes. “Like that’s going to happen.” Her husband had decided to trade her in for a newer model. What the heck would a professional hockey player ever see in her?
***
Becker spent the first six years of his NHL career with the Detroit Red Wings, and every off season had gone back to his hometown of Madison, Wisconsin. He found it strange to be in San Antonio in the summer, but after being left unprotected by his former team in the league’s expansion draft, and thus being drafted by the Generals, this was home now. Even if it didn’t quite feel like it yet.
Several of the guys on the team were married, and a few others had steady girlfriends. Then there were the self-professed playboys of the team. Casey Denault held top honors there, always ready to boast about his latest conquests. And in the middle, there was Beck. He didn’t play the field. Hell, he hadn’t even been on a date in several months, as pathetic as that sounded. Beck was a lot more selective now than in his younger years, and at twenty-nine, he was ready to settle down. He just hadn’t met the right woman yet. Or had he?
“So who’s the redhead you were so chatty with?” Beck’s teammate, Ryder Carrigan, asked as they left the ice rink.
“Chatty? Hardly. I don’t think she likes me very much,” Becker mused. Hopefully he could change that. “Mom of one of the kids in my goalie group. Divorced, I guess, and the kid’s dad signed him up for the camp. She doesn’t seem too thrilled about that. I tried to convince her it’s not really all that dangerous.” He shrugged as he reached his silver BMW in the parking lot. “Just trying to help a kid out, you know?”
“That’s it? You weren’t trying to score with his mom?”
Beck laughed as he pressed the key fob to unlock his car door. “Nope. At least not yet.” The summer was young, though.
Chapter Three
Day two of camp focused again on positional drills, with the kids remaining separated into their individual position groups. The plan was to keep things that way for the first few days. Next week, they would start to get into the situational drills, with forwards battling defensemen in puck possession activities, and breakaways, when goalies went one on one with forwards, trying to stop a point blank shot. Becker most looked forward to that. He wanted to see what his future goalies could do under pressure.
Beck didn’t mind pressure. He thrived on it, really, and believed it was what made him a good goalie. Some of these kids would have what it took to be successful, and others not. He looked forward to finding out who fell in the category of having what it takes. Beck already had a strong hunch that Tristan Myers was in that group, but he wouldn’t know for sure until they got into the situational drills and he saw how the kid handled a little heat.
For now, Becker found himself facing some less threatening shots than usual, standing in the crease as Ryder, Nik and Noah skated toward the goal, passing a beach ball between them, before Noah finally took aim and fired the beach ball directly at Beck. He made the save easily. After all, a large, bright colored inflatable ball was a lot easier to keep track of on the ice than a three inch in diameter, hard disk of vulcanized rubber, and traveled at far less speed, even if Noah did have the hardest shot on their team.
It was nothing compared to what Becker routinely faced in games, from the likes of Tyler Seguin, John Tavares and Connor McDavid, but the kids in his goalie group all cheered the save. Noah, on the other hand, responded with an exaggerated pout.
“Come on, you can’t let that go in?”
Beck laughed. “Nope. That one was easy. And hey, I let you score with the golf ball. No way was I getting in the way of that.”
“Good choice,” Noah said, retrieving his beach ball and deflating it. “Maybe next time I’ll get you with this.” He was the team’s practical joker, and once fired an orange at the goal to see what would happen. The orange hadn’t fared too well.
In comparison, Becker was far more serious than his teammate, but Noah was a good guy who was always ready with a laugh or a gag, and he was already popular with the kids. “Yeah, right, whatever,” Beck countered. He saw Tristan Myers headed in the direction of the stands and decided to follow. Any opportunity to talk to Hot Hockey Mom again. She was sitting with the same friend from yesterday, and looked even more beautiful, if that was possible. “Hello, Mrs. Myers,” he greeted her.
“It’s Kendall. I thought we already established that.”
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” The truth was, he’d done it on purpose, trying to gauge her reaction. Since she immediately corrected him, Becker was left with the impression that she didn’t much like the connection to her ex-husband, even if she still used his name for whatever reason. Good. Maybe that meant she was happy to be rid of him. Beck certainly wasn’t sorry that Mr. Myers was out of the picture. “I wanted to say hi, and see if you were feeling a little more comfortable about Tristan playing goalie.”
“I’d feel a lot more comfortable if the only thing flying in his direction was that beach ball you just kept out of the net.” As she said it, Kendall let out a soft laugh and Beck decided her laugh was almost as sexy as her smile. Some guy actually let her go? Either he was missing something, or the ex was an idiot. Or maybe blind.
“I’m more comfortable with that, too,” Becker acknowledged, “but it’s not as challenging.”
“He’s right, Mom,” Tristan piped up. “Don’t you want me to be challenged?”
Nice job, kid. It’s good to have an ally.
“Challenged is fine,” his mother said. “I just don’t want you hurt.”
“And I’ve already told you, Kendall,” Beck said, making a point of using her first name this time, “that we’re focused on ensuring that kind of thing doesn’t happen. We want to teach safe play,” he explained. “I’d welcome the opportunity to talk more about that with you sometime.”
“What are you suggesting?” Kendall asked.
Good question. Beck wasn’t entirely sure himself. He wasn’t a fool, though, and he wasn’t one to waste an opportunity. “I don’t know.” He gave her a casual smile. “Maybe we get together sometime, outside of here, like for dinner or lunch or something, and you tell me your concerns about Tristan playing hockey, and I try to address them and calm your fears.” There. That sounded good. Right?
“Like a date? You want to take me on a date?”
“Actually, I hadn’t mentioned that word at all.” Yet it was apparently the first thing that came to her mind. Interesting. Very interesting. “But I wouldn’t be opposed, if you’re saying ‘yes.’” Beck figured he was crossing into dang
erous territory and expected to be shot down.
Instead, Kendall’s friend answered for her. “Yes. She’s saying ‘yes.’”
Becker turned to the other woman. She had a son in camp, named Coby, who was working mainly with Noah on defense. “I’m not sure we’ve been formally introduced.”
“We haven’t, no.” The petite blonde extended her hand. “I’m Lori Barkley, Coby’s mom and Kendall’s best friend, and I’m happily married,” she said. “Kendall’s very much single, though, and she’d love to have dinner with you.” She looked at her friend. “Right, Ken? I know you’re free tonight. It’s Wednesday, after all.”
Beck didn’t know the significance of Wednesday, nor did he want to put Kendall on the spot. “Up to you,” he said. “I’ll let you speak for yourself.”
***
Oh, he’d let her speak for herself. Wasn’t he the chivalrous, magnanimous type? Goody! Kendall found herself trapped between telling off this presumptuous jerk and glaring at her best friend for somehow putting her in this predicament. What the hell was Lori thinking, anyway?
“I suppose dinner would be all right. I have to eat, anyway, and the kids are with their dad tonight.” There. She’s said it. Kids, as in plural. Would Becker still be as interested, if he even was interested, when he learned she had a special needs daughter in addition a budding hockey star son? Carter had sure made his interest, or lack thereof, painfully clear after they’d learned their daughter might never be ‘normal.’ Carter’s word, not hers.
“Perfect,” Becker answered. “I can pick you up at six, if that’s okay. What’s the address?”
Okay, maybe he hadn’t heard her and she could have a pleasant time with him before he figured it out, and decided to cut and run. It was probably selfish to accept, knowing where it would likely lead, or not lead, but Kendall deserved a nice evening out? It was hard to deny that he was incredibly good-looking. “1065 Raynor,” she said. “And can we make it six thirty?” It would give her time to get the kids ready to spend the night with Carter, including making sure all of Alison’s equipment was ready, and still make herself look presentable. Or some reasonable facsimile of presentable, at least.
Becker nodded. “Sure. Six thirty it is. I’ll see you then. Bye, Tristan.” He turned and skated off, and Kendall couldn’t help but admire his form. What the hell had she gotten herself into?
“Mom?” Tristan asked. “Are you really going on a date with him?”
She was quick to shake her head. “No, of course not. It’s not a date. Just a chance to get to know your coach a little better.” Kendall turned to Lori. “What do you think you’re doing, anyway?”
“Too bad,” Tristan said. “I hoped it was a date.”
“You did?” Kendall asked, a little taken aback by the question.
“Sure.” Her son looked down at the ice. “I mean, Dad goes out on dates all the time now. Why can’t you?”
Why, indeed? The news didn’t surprise her. After all, she’d been warned that Carter now boasted of his exploits on Facebook by a friend who apparently felt the need to keep her in the loop, since Kendall had blocked Carter from her news feed. It obviously wasn’t restricted to social media, though, since Tristan seemed to know. Just how many different women had her son already been exposed to since Carter had left her? “It’s still not a date, okay?” Kendall told him. “Now go grab the rest of your stuff so we can go pick up your sister.”
“Yes, Mom,” Tristan ambled off, still wearing his skates, and Kendall turned to Lori.
“So now you’re accepting dates on my behalf?”
“At least you’re admitting it is a date.” Lori’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “I figured you need to get out of the house and have an enjoyable evening with a handsome man. It will do you some good. Netflix will still be around tomorrow. And you heard what Tristan said. It’s not as if Carter is sitting at home alone watching Orange is the New Black.”
It was a not-so-thinly-veiled reference to Kendall’s favorite guilty pleasure, and it stung. “You’re right,” she said, feeling new determination. “I’m going to go to dinner with Becker and have a wonderful time.” Either that or she’d have a miserable time, but at least she wouldn’t be sitting at home eating ice cream and comparing her life—sometimes unfavorably—to a group of women in prison.
Lori grinned. “That’s what I like to hear. And I’m glad you’re not mad at me for butting in.”
“Oh, I am, a little,” Kendall said. “That will change to a lot if this date is a disaster.”
“It won’t be,” Lori declared. “I predict that you’ll end up thanking for giving you a little kick in the rear.”
“We’ll see about that.” At least Kendall had something to look forward to for a change.
***
Becker pumped a fist in the air as he walked away. Yes. She said yes. Well, technically her friend had said yes for her, but Kendall hadn’t backed out when he’d given her the opportunity. On some level, she must want to go out with him, even if she wasn’t fully admitting it to herself yet. Why were women so complicated, anyway? Why did they have to play games?
When Beck saw something he wanted, he went after it. No games, no denial. If some people thought he moved too fast or came on too strong, so be it. Life was short. He didn’t want to waste a single minute.
It wasn’t until Becker got to the locker room to change that something Kendall said sank in. She had the night free because the kids were with their dad. Kids, as in plural. He didn’t know how many, but obviously more than one. What on earth was he getting himself into? Well, he’d find out soon enough.
Chapter Four
Twice, Kendall considered backing out of the date, or whatever it was, but since she’d neglected to exchange phone numbers with Becler and thus didn’t have any way to contact him, canceling wasn’t an option. Instead, she fussed over what to wear, what to do with her hair, and everything else, with Lori’s guidance.
“This is silly,” Kendall said, when her friend insisted she put makeup on. Makeup? Right. Most days it was enough of a struggle to get both kids moving, functional and out the door. When was Kendall supposed to fuss with makeup? She thought she did well if she had a chance to wash her hair. Bonus points if it was styled. “It’s not even a date. He’s not interested in me. He just wants to try to convince me that my son is going to be NHL caliber goalie someday, and therefore I shouldn’t mind if Tristan gets his faced bashed in.”
Lori made no effort to disguise her eye roll. “Right. That’s why he asked you out to dinner, rather than talk to you at the rink after camp. It’s a date, Kendall.”
“But why would he possibly want to date me?” Kendall studied her reflection. Okay, she wasn’t bad looking. She had pretty eyes, and some guys seemed to like redheads, and her time on the treadmill—at least when she found the time—helped her stay in decent shape post childbirth. Even after Carter managed to stomp on her heart, Kendall hadn’t completely lost her confidence, and when friends and colleagues tried to reassure her she’d find someone else, she generally believed them. But a professional athlete? No, she wasn’t buying that.
“Because you’re smart and kind and beautiful,” Lori said, like the good best friend she was.
“I’m average,” Kendall countered. “And he could have anyone. He could have one of those perfect-bodied cheerleaders at their games.”
“Ice girls,” Lori said. “They’re called ice girls. And maybe he doesn’t want one of them. Maybe he wants someone real.”
“Real?” Kendall scoffed. “I have a feeling he’ll decide my life is a little bit too ‘real’ for him.”
“You’re talking about Ali.” Lori walked closer and put a hand on Kendall’s shoulder. “Come on. She’s an angel.”
“Yes, she is. She’s my angel, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything,” Kendall said, “but that doesn’t mean everyone can see that.”
“You mean her father.” There was no mistaking the disdain in Lori’s
voice. “We’ve already been through this. Carter’s an ass. And karma is a bitch. Someday, it’s all going to come back to bite him.”
Kendall smiled wryly. “We’ll see.” She didn’t wish any ill will on Carter, not really. She just wanted him to cherish his daughter in the same way he adored his son.
“Yes, we will.” Lori walked over to Kendall’s jewelry box and pulled out the necklace she’d given Kendall for her birthday a few months wear before. It was a chrysoberyl stone. “Wear this,” Lori said, holding it up. “It brings out your eyes.”
“Thanks.” Kendall took it from her and put it on. It truly was a beautiful stone. “For everything. I’m still not sure about this, but I’m going to do my best to go have a good time tonight.”
“I’m glad.” Lori glanced at her watch. “On that note, I’m out of here before the hockey hottie shows up. Well, that and Bo’s making his famous fajitas tonight, which means I get to sip mojitos on the deck while I watch him cook.”
“Yeah, rub it in, why don’t you?” Kendall teased. Lori had been her rock during the divorce. No way did she begrudge her friend her happiness.
“Hey, maybe Becker cooks. You never know.” Lori gave her a hug. “Call me when you get home. I don’t care what time it is.”
Kendall knew Lori meant it, and appreciated her friends support. “We’ll see,” she said, showing Lori to the door.
“True. Maybe you’ll be too busy.” Lori gave her a wink before turning and heading down the walk.
“Yeah, right.” Kendall closed the door and leaned back against it, laughing. Her friend had a vivid imagination, for sure, but if anyone would be having a wild time tonight, it was probably Lori and Bo.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Kendall pulled it open and barely recognized the man standing in front of her. Becker looked, well, smaller, without all of his huge goalie gear, which was silly because he wasn’t small at all. No, he was tall, definitely tall, and his build looked solid, but now instead of hockey pads he wore dark jeans, paired with a blue and white striped shirt. Instead of damp with sweat, his dark brown hair was dry and fell softly across his forehead. The sexy smile was the same.
Scoring at Love (Men of the Ice Book 4) Page 2