In the Zone (Portland Storm 5)

by Catherine Gayle

  He let out a sigh and scowled slightly. “You’re getting off at the station? That’s the only place we’re stopping. I can’t let you out anywhere else.”

  “The station is perfect,” I said, climbing up into an empty seat, still holding the five out for him.

  He grudgingly took the bill from me and shoved it into his pocket. “All right. But not a word about this to anyone. It’s against policy and I’m not willing to lose my job over this.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  The other passengers got back on board after taking a few minutes to look around the wooded area and the fancy houses in Keith’s neighborhood. This neighborhood had some of the biggest houses I’d ever seen, which was probably why the trolley was stopping here until they finished repairs on the line and went farther. It gave people something to ooh and aah over. Now that I was seeing it in the light of day, it seemed even more impressive and imposing.

  When we returned to the Lake Oswego station, the conductor gave me a sidelong look. “Remember. Not a word.”

  I nodded my agreement, climbed down, and raced home so I could shower, change, and get out the door. There was a bus leaving in fifteen minutes and I intended to be on it.

  MY FRONT DOOR was unlocked and Brie was missing when I got home. Not a good sign. It was as though she’d run away. Again.

  I tried calling her, but after her cell rang a few times, I got her voice mail. “Hey, it’s Keith,” I said after the tone. “Just want to be sure you’re all right since you’re not at my place. Call me when you get this so I don’t worry about you, okay?”

  I hung up and went into the kitchen to fix myself some lunch. I needed a big meal since I wouldn’t eat again until after the game, other than a snack a couple of hours before the puck dropped. Pasta, tomato sauce, chicken, and a huge salad was my go-to pre-game meal. It’s what I typically ordered when I went to Amani’s with the guys, so that’s what I made. By the time I’d cooked, eaten, and cleaned up, she still hadn’t returned my call.

  That really wasn’t a good sign. Even if she’d been getting herself ready for work when I’d called, she should have had time by now to have listened to my message and responded.

  Had I fucked up with her last night without knowing it? I’d thought the night had been amazing. Good conversation. Fun event. Insanely good sex. It had been the best fucking date I’d been on in a long time, and it was all because I’d been with Brie. But maybe she didn’t feel the same?

  I didn’t want to be pushy if she wasn’t into me, but I did want to know she was all right, that I hadn’t done something to inadvertently hurt her. Or at least that was what I told myself as I dialed the number for the dance studio.

  “Rose City Ballroom Dance Academy. Tanya speaking. How can I assist you today?”

  “Tanya, it’s Keith Burns,” I said.

  “Hi, Keith.” She sounded a little too happy to be talking to me. “What can I help you with? Need to schedule another class?”

  “Not exactly, no.” Although, taking more of Brie’s classes didn’t sound like a bad idea if it meant getting to spend more time with her. At least, if I hadn’t messed up my chances with her already. “I was wondering what time Brie’s supposed to be in today is all.”

  “She’s already here,” Tanya said. “One of our other instructors had a sick kid, so I asked her to come in early and cover some classes.”

  Just like that, I felt a lot better. “Okay. Good deal. Thanks, Tanya.”

  “Anytime, hon. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

  The best answer I could give her would be no. I should’ve thanked her for her time and assistance and hung up the phone. That’s not what I did, though. “Actually, yeah. I was wondering if she seemed…all right…when she got there.”

  “She seemed amazing when she got here. You could come see for yourself. She’s got a short break between classes in about half an hour.”

  “Yeah? Thanks. I might just do that.”

  “Mmm-hmm. See you soon.” She clicked off the line, and I headed for the door, despite the fact that I should be headed upstairs for my pre-game nap—particularly since I hadn’t gotten enough sleep and Bergy would kill me if I had a bad game tonight.

  I made one stop on my way to the studio—the florist. I’d never been the kind of guy to bring a girl flowers before, but it seemed like the right thing to do today. I picked out an exotic looking arrangement with flowers the woman called leopard lilies, verified that they weren’t toxic for cats, and traveled the rest of the distance to the studio.

  TANYA LOOKED UP from her computer and smiled when I came through the door. “Gorgeous. And the flowers are, too.” She winked.

  “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

  “Not a chance. Brie already knows my pet name for you.”

  While I was definitely curious about what she called me, I wasn’t curious enough to ask. Something told me I was probably better off not knowing. “Should I wait in here?” I asked.

  “Yeah, grab a seat. She should stop in any minute.”

  I sat in one of the chairs near the window, and Tanya returned to the computer. Then I tried not to become impatient while I waited, but I really, really, really needed to see Brie again, with my own eyes. Just to be sure I hadn’t screwed anything up without meaning to.

  My eyes stayed glued to the doorway until she finally walked through it. She was in another outfit much like the one she’d worn on our date last night—a shapeless skirt that brushed the floor even with her heels on and a boxy top, both in drab, dark colors. She’d pulled her hair back into a messy bun. Some of it had come loose, so she pushed it back behind her ear as she crossed over to Tanya, guzzling from a bottle of water.

  “You’ve got company,” Tanya said, nudging her head in my direction while her eyes stayed on Brie.

  I stood up as she turned to face me and held out the flowers. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I…” She tucked her hair behind her ear again even though it hadn’t come loose this time. “Hi,” she said, a whoosh of air coming out with the word, making her sound breathy and sexy.

  “And that’s my cue to go check on… I don’t know. On something,” Tanya said as she scooted past Brie and out the door, winking at me over her shoulder before she disappeared down the hall.

  “Hi,” I said once Tanya was gone. “Sorry you got stranded at my place without a ride.”

  “It’s all right. I convinced the trolley conductor to let me get on and ride back to the station.”

  The trolley? Christ. She hadn’t even called a cab.

  I made a mental note to leave money for a taxi the next time anything like that happened. The bus stop nearest to my house was kind of a hike. But…well, leaving money was probably not the best idea, either. She might think I was paying her for spending the night with me. Maybe I’d better scratch that one.

  “I’d thought about waking you before I had to leave to see if you wanted me to take you home then,” I finally said, “but I figured you needed sleep, after… And you’d said you didn’t have to be at work until the afternoon.”

  She had started blushing like crazy as soon as I hedged around the reason she’d needed sleep. Her blush was fucking sexy as hell. I couldn’t understand how I could find this woman so insanely gorgeous and yet she was constantly trying to cover herself up, to hide everything about herself.

  She took a few steps, closing the distance between us some. I met her in the middle, and she dipped her head to smell the flowers. “They’re beautiful,” she said. “Thank you. And thank you for last night, too.”

  I took advantage of her proximity and kissed her. When I traced the seam of her lips with my tongue, she rocked forward on her toes with a sigh, letting her lips gently part. I kept it brief, since we were in her place of business, but I couldn’t keep myself from doing at least that much.

  When I broke it off, she took the bouquet from me and moved to a cabinet along the wall. Af
ter digging around in it for a minute, she pulled out a clear vase and set to work arranging the flowers in it.

  “I hope we can have a lot more nights like last night.”

  She gave a noncommittal, “Hmm,” and put another stem in place.

  I moved in behind her, putting my arms around her waist and easing her back against me. She flinched when I splayed my palms against her belly.

  “Why are you always trying to touch me?” she asked.

  “Because I like touching you. I like looking at you, too. You’re beautiful, Brie.” I kissed the back of her head while she continued positioning the flowers. “Why do you try to hide yourself?”

  “I’m not hiding. I’m right here.”

  “You don’t look at me when I look at you. You wear clothes in plain colors that don’t fit—”

  “These fit,” she interrupted. “They aren’t too tight.”

  “No, they aren’t too tight. They’re hanging off you.” If I wanted to, I could easily gather several inches of fabric in my hands and tug to prove my point. I got the impression that she didn’t even know what size she should wear, or maybe she didn’t care as long as it was something that hid her body, and that made me more furious at Val, a man I’d never met, than I already was. He’d better hope I never met him, too.

  She took her time placing the last few stems in the vase. “They don’t make clothes in bigger sizes that can make a body like mine look good.”

  “You look good in anything. Or nothing. And every place in between.”

  Brie spun around and stared up at me, her blue eyes as dark and intense as I’d ever seen them. “Maybe to you, but no one else needs to see all my rolls. I don’t even like—”

  She cut herself off, but I could easily finish that sentence for her. She didn’t even like letting me see them. That much was painfully obvious. I wished I knew how to help her see herself the way I saw her. How to show her how beautiful she was, how her body wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

  “I’ve seen plenty of women in all shapes and sizes in clothes that flatter their bodies,” I said. “Maybe you haven’t found the right brand or something. We could go shopping.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” She didn’t sound as though she believed such a thing were possible. “I don’t know about going shopping with you, though. What do you know about finding clothes for women?”

  She had a point, there. I didn’t know the first thing about it—only that there had to be something. “I just wish you would believe in yourself more,” I said after a long moment of silence.

  “I need to go put water in these, and then I have another class to teach.”

  So that was the end of that. At least for now. I backed up a step so she could turn around more easily. She grabbed the vase and headed for the open doorway. “Thanks again for these. They’re really beautiful,” she said, looking over her shoulder from beneath the doorframe.

  Not half as beautiful as she was, despite her efforts to become invisible. “You’re welcome. I should go, too. I’ve got that game tonight.” And I really needed to get at least a short nap before it. “Can I call you after, or will that be too late?”

  “You can call.” Brie gave me a shy smile, and then she hurried away.

  I was still standing there, staring at where she’d been, when Tanya came back in the room. “I haven’t seen a smile like that on her since she came to Portland,” she said to me. “So that means not only do I like to look at you, but I’ve decided I like you, too.”

  “Thanks. I think.” I dragged a hand through my hair, debating whether I should talk to Tanya about what was on my mind. But to my knowledge, there was no one in Portland who knew Brie better than Tanya, so if I didn’t ask her, I had no clue who I could ask. Plus, Tanya was kind of curvy, too. Not as curvy as Brie, but curvier than a lot of women. Maybe she’d have some ideas about where we could go shopping. I might as well go for it. What would it hurt? “So I was wondering…”

  “Yeah?” she asked when I didn’t go on. She’d taken up her seat behind the computer again and was typing away.

  “Do you know where Brie should go to buy clothes?” Fuck, that came out wrong.

  “You want to buy her clothes?” Tanya said, but she gave me a scowl over her shoulder, as though she was admonishing me for being a tactless ass. She wouldn’t get any argument from me about that. “I have some ideas.”

  “She said she can’t find clothes that flatter her or something like that. Surely there are places that make things that’ll suit her, though. Aren’t there?” I barely knew how to find clothes that fit me, so finding something for her went way over my head. I had to have a tailor custom-fit my pants and jeans because all the skating I did had made my thighs and ass huge. Off-the-rack pants weren’t an option for most hockey players.

  “There are a few places I could recommend,” Tanya said cautiously. “I don’t know if Brie is ready to accept that she’s a knockout and start dressing like the hottie she is, though, you know?”

  Yeah, I knew.

  “You have any other ideas how we can help her out with that? I mean, maybe if she had something that fit her properly, it’d start to click.”

  She narrowed her eyes on me, as though assessing the intent behind my words.

  “I want to help her see herself the way I see her. I want her to be confident.”

  “Well,” Tanya said, tapping a finger on her lower lip, “you could take her to Lane Bryant and Avenue. They make good-quality clothes in bigger sizes—things that should flatter her. And you could order some things from a few places, but you’d need her measurements—which I have, since we’re getting an outfit made for a job she just booked—but I don’t think I should give them to you. She’ll have to do that herself, but you could broach the idea. She might be embarrassed if she knew I had anything to do with it, though. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I don’t want her to think I find her frumpy or anything like that.”

  “I don’t want that, either,” I assured her. “It’ll be our secret.”

  She had a mischievous gleam in her eye when she said, “Then I’m on board.” She rattled off a few more places I could try to talk Brie into exploring.

  “And you’ll be sure she has her measurements so we can figure out what size she needs?” I asked as I made some notes in my phone.

  “Yeah. I can find a way.”

  “Thanks, Tanya.” I edged my way toward the door because I really did have to get home for a pre-game nap. “This means a lot to me.”

  “I’m liking you more by the moment,” Tanya called out as I left. “You may be sneaky, but you’re sneaky with good intentions.”

  THE BIGGEST PROBLEM with having a new defensive partner, no matter how adept he may or may not be, was communication. After you’d been working alongside a guy for a while, you learned to read what he was going to do well before he did it, just because of his positioning or the direction he moved or the way he was holding his stick. That sort of recognition—or maybe knowledge was more appropriate—only came with time, though. Repetition was key. Until you’d spent enough time together on the ice, you had to rely on your ability to talk to each other out there.

  So far tonight, in our game against the Florida Panthers, Colesy and I weren’t doing so well with the whole communicating thing. He’d try to bank the puck around behind the net to come out for me, expecting me to be waiting there for it, but I’d already be halfway up the ice with the forwards with the expectation that he was going to send it up to one of them. I’d see a Panthers forward trying to pull off some dipsy doodle dangling move and head after him to ram his ass into the boards, expecting that Colesy would take up position in front of our goaltender, Hunter Fielding, but Colesy would be chasing the same asshole I was, trying to poke the puck away with his stick, and Hunter would be all alone. Those were only a couple of examples of the dozens of miscues our pairing had experienced through the first two periods tonight, and we were two lucky sons of bitches that the worst that
had come of it—so far—were a few really good scoring chances in tight on our goaltender. Hunter had saved our bacon so far, but we couldn’t keep leaving him out to dry like that.

  I wiped the sweat off my face and neck with a towel again, not that it would do any good, and took a big swig of Gatorade. When I looked across the locker room at him, Hunter had his eyes closed, but he couldn’t hide the rapid movement behind them, or the small, sudden tapping of his fingers as he sat in his stall. He was sweating even more than I was, no thanks to me and Colesy, but he wasn’t letting that stop him from whatever weird visualization ritual he was always doing. Before the puck dropped and between periods, if he was the guy in the net that game, there was no doubt that this was exactly how you’d find him—oblivious to the rest of us while he chased pucks in his dreams.

  Bergy came in the room. He’d left his suit jacket somewhere else, and he tugged on the thin strip of his tie almost absentmindedly as he paced up near the whiteboard we were all facing. “Way to hang in there, Hunter,” he said after a long minute. Then his gaze fell on me. “Your D has been leaving you out to dry, but you’ve kept us in the game.”

  His stare made me feel like maggots were eating holes in my eyeballs and leaving me with nothing but the empty sockets, and all I wanted to do was look away, but that was what he was waiting for. He’d pounce if I did, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. I knew good and fucking well how much Colesy and I needed to improve, and fast, and there was nothing Bergy could do or say to make it sink in any more than it already had. We just needed more time to learn each other.

  He could sure as shit unnerve me with that damn stare, though.

  It wasn’t just me, either. Zee and a lot of the other forwards who’d been in the league for a while—long enough to have played against him—had been on the receiving end of that stare plenty of times on the ice. Bergy had been one mean motherfucker out there, and a lot of it came down to the way he would stare at you before the puck would drop.

  Well, it seemed he was finding ways to make use of that same skill set in a new way.