by Lynda Aicher
“I love you too much to go back to the drugs.”
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. She didn’t know whom she was thanking, but there had to be someone who’d heard her pleas and listened.
She sucked in a breath before turning in his arms. His eyes were slightly shiny when she met them. Open and vulnerable to her yet again. She trusted that, and him. Believed in what he said as much as what she saw.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For finding me. Coming back when I closed you out. For turning away from the drugs.”
“I can’t have them and you both.” He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, tucking them under her chin. “I know that and I want you more.”
And that about stitched her broken heart right back together. It didn’t alleviate the knot in her stomach but it gave her something to believe in again. A place to go from and toward.
“I love you, Scott.” His eyes closed, a wave of relief washing over his face before he reopened them. Had he really doubted that? “I didn’t say it before because I thought it would hurt less if I held it back. But it didn’t. It actually hurt more because you left thinking I didn’t care.”
His smile was gentle, his touch soft when he repeated the stroke on her cheek. “I never doubted that. Ever.” His gaze drifted over her face then around the gallery behind her. “Do you have to stay?”
She was shaking her head before he finished his question. “No. Let me talk to Rock though.” She didn’t care what her brother said or thought, leaving with Scott wasn’t a question.
His short laugh was barely more than a puff of air. “Should I come with you?”
Yes. No. Who cared? She couldn’t sort through the best option with him so close. Not when her eyes were stuck on the gentle slope and curve of his lips, or when the press of his hand on her lower back seared through the thin material of her dress to heat the skin beneath.
His eyelids lowered, a heaviness falling into his gaze. “If I kiss you now, it will not be decent or appropriate.” Her lips instantly tingled and she wet them without thought. His groan was low and lined with a chuckle. He pressed his temple to hers, his laugh vibrating over her. “That wasn’t fair.”
Her smile grew huge and brightened her from the inside out. It was so good. Just being there with him. In his arms. Hearing his laughter. Inhaling his scent. She could stay there forever.
His neck was smooth beneath her lips when she kissed him there. A long hold that was a promise to both of them. The shudder that went through him was subtle where they touched. A silent confirmation that he was as affected as her.
She stepped back, taking his hand to lead him through the people to her brother. Rock’s hard gaze tracked them the entire way, and she returned it with one of her own. Carter was at his side, hand on Rock’s back. A grounding touch? Warning? Restraint? It was hard to tell.
She smiled at him and tried to silently communicate that this was all right. She knew what she was doing. She’d be okay. Her nerves had settled into a mix of relief and new fears, but that was good. The chance of a new start and the future she wanted was worth the jitters. More than.
Rock’s focus shifted to Scott when they neared. His chest expanded with a big inhale and his rigid military stance gave the impression he was ready to fight. But she caught the drop in his shoulders and the lowering of his chin. Her love for her big brother tripped over itself to constrict her throat for the hundredth time that night.
“Scott,” Rock said, completely ignoring her. She rolled her eyes and squeezed Scott’s hand.
“Rock,” Scott said right back, tone just as firm.
She glanced at Carter, who shot her a wink and a smile. Apparently, they had some posturing to do, and she didn’t have the patience for it. She let go of Scott and raised on tiptoes to wrap her brother up in a hug before he could protest.
“I’m fine,” she said in his ear. “We’re working it out. Give me time. I’ll call if I need you. I promise.”
He squeezed her tight. “I’m here for you if you do.”
She sniffed, touched at his support, and stepped back, smiling. “Thank you.”
Scott laid a hand on her shoulder, the protective declaration warming instead of irritating. “I won’t hurt her,” he said to Rock, all firm promise. He held out his hand, and Rock eyed it before he shook it.
“You’d better not,” Rock said, warning clear.
Carter burst into laughter then, and she was right behind him. It bubbled through her to release more of her doubts and anxiety. She covered her mouth with her hand to try and stifle the chuckles, but it was no use.
“What?” the two men asked in unison, which only kicked her and Carter into another round of muffled giggles.
“I think the cow’s been traded,” Carter choked out then ducked Rock’s glare.
That was exactly what she’d been thinking, but smacked Carter on the arm for good measure. “I am not a cow.”
“Not even close,” he said, grinning.
“Are you two done?” Rock asked, brow raised. He glanced at Scott and shook his head as he stared at the ceiling. Yeah, he was really put out.
Scott’s cheeks had turned a light shade of pink, which only endeared him to her more. He held his ground though as he reclaimed her hand. “You’re definitely not a cow,” he murmured.
She let them both off the hook by waving goodbye and leading Scott out of the building. There was a smile on her face and heart when she stepped outside into the fading sunlight and still-warm night.
They were moving forward, and that was so much better than holding still or going backward. The promise was back, along with the hope that they’d figure this out. Compromise and find a solution or two that would work for both of them. Whatever it was.
She was with him, looking ahead, and they were in it together.
Chapter Thirty
Scott kept glancing at the beautiful woman in the seat next to him just to ensure she was actually there. Rachel was with him when he’d almost given up hope of that ever happening again. He’d held her hand as much as he could during the ride back to his house, a solid touch point he clung to.
They didn’t speak much during the drive, even though there was a ton left unsaid and unanswered. There was too much to tackle when he had to focus on the road.
He parked in the garage and led her into his house, his nerves on overdrive. Sweat made an unpleasant glue that had his shirt clinging to his back. He could only hope she didn’t smell his fear. Because yeah, that was so attractive.
He froze, stomach dropping when he reached the end of the short hall that opened into the kitchen and great room. She stopped beside him, her small gasp echoing through the silence.
He closed his eyes, an escape and preparation.
“What happened?” she asked, hand tucking around his arm. “Did someone break in?”
The disaster was still there when he reopened his eyes. Exactly as he’d created and left it. Another round of shame turned his stomach and seemed to throb in his knee. He’d done this. All of it. The physical mess was a manifestation of his life.
But he was moving forward. Accepting and changing.
He took a fortifying breath and let the past go.
“I did this,” he admitted, owning it. She turned to him, eyes wide. He nodded. “Earlier today. When I was looking for drugs.”
She stiffened then turned back to study the great room before leaning forward to take in the wrecked state of the kitchen. “In the pantry and couch?”
He should be used to the embarrassment by now, given how often he’d experienced it lately. It didn’t make it any easier though. “I used to stash small quantities of them everywhere.” He ducked his head then forced himself to meet her eyes. She deserved that respect. Plus he couldn’t lie if he was looking at her. “It was a messed-up way of deluding myself into believing I wasn’t taking that many.”
“By hiding them all over?” The disbelief in her voice matched her raised brows.
>
He shrugged. “It was another game. Another way of avoiding the truth I didn’t want to see or admit to.”
Her expression softened then flattened. “And now?”
And now. She was standing there with him again. Didn’t that say enough? “I’m done playing games.” He waited a beat to ensure she was following him. His heart did a quick hitch then settled. This was completely right and too long in coming. “All of them,” he went on, grabbing ahold of her hands. “Including hockey.”
He’d let that go this afternoon. Right after he’d flushed the pills down the toilet and finally deleted Jessie’s number.
Her mouth fell open a bit, disbelief mixing with hope as she stared at him. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Without a doubt this time. “You were right. Everyone was right. A title or trophy isn’t worth it.” He drew her in to hold her close, keep her safe. “Hockey was killing me.” The truth scratched over his throat and tore at his soul. His lungs hitched when he tried to take a breath. She tried to back up, but he held her tighter. Clung to her. And she clung back.
“It used to let me breathe,” he went on, needing to explain. Needing to say it aloud. “It filled me when nothing else would—could. Until it started to choke me.” He inhaled the fruity scent of her hair, a reminder and promise in one. “But I was too stubborn and blind to recognize it. Hockey was all I had. What was I without it?”
Damn. Damn. Damn. The frustration burned from his chest to his mouth, pounded at his mind and laughed at his weakness. And right next to it was the craving. Taunting louder. Teasing with its false ease.
She laid a kiss on his neck, another one right above his collar. “I can’t be your everything,” she whispered, strain in her voice.
He cupped her face, met her eyes, heart racing. “I know that. I would never ask you to be.” The fact that she didn’t try—knew that she couldn’t be what he had to be on his own—only proved how strong she was. How right she was for him. “I need to figure out what to do next. Find out who I am without hockey.” He kissed her forehead, sent up every wish he had that she understood and would stay by him as he figured it out. “But I want to do it with you.”
Tears shone in her eyes but none fell. She wet her lips, a soft smile forming. “I’d like that.”
Her breathy words were his final goal. Victory screamed through his blood and sang in his heart as he claimed her lips in the kiss he’d been dying to take since she’d stepped back into his arms.
She opened to him instantly, clambered in to find their mutual heat. Her lips were soft and firm like her touch. Like her. It was all there. The missed passion and love that he’d craved and now needed more than drugs or hockey.
She was everything he’d given up and never thought he’d have. What he’d always wanted and had been too afraid to find. Until she’d walked into his life and had seen him. Stood by him and loved him for who he was, not what he did.
She mattered to him. More than hockey or his image or the national title.
It would’ve been so easy to get lost right there. Take her upstairs and make love to her. But he owed her more than jumping into sex, which would be fantastic in its own way, but not yet. With a moan of regret and a last peck of promise, he eased back.
Her eyes were dazed but clear of tears. He would never stop loving her. His heart expanded, almost burst with that knowledge. That truth.
He released her long enough to slip off his suit coat and tie. He slung them over a bar chair and unbuttoned his collar. She set her purse on the counter and took his hand as he led her to the patio.
The air was warm but comfortable when they stepped outside. Darkness had fallen during their ride home, but the moon and inside lights provided enough light to see. He rolled up his sleeves on the way to the double lounger and kicked off his shoes by the chair. There was something about this space, the quiet that was thick with nature’s noises that he thought of as theirs now.
He sat then drew her down so she rested between his spread legs, nestled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and enjoyed the perfection of the moment. The rightness he’d almost given up.
He’d spent the afternoon on a long call to his rehab therapist then sorting through his life. Being real when he’d avoided it for so long. It was another shameful moment to realize how many people he’d spurned when they’d been trying to help him. He owed apologies to many. One he’d already made that afternoon.
Hauke had been there for him when he’d called for the gallery information and managed to say the right things after Scott had told him he was retiring. That had morphed into a few ribbings about Scott dating Rock’s sister and not telling him. And like that, a brick of weight had lifted from his shoulders. One of many he needed to remove.
“I like it out here,” she said, fingers trailing over the back of his hand in slow swipes that tickled but didn’t.
“It’s the reason I bought the house.” Lakes were nice and often busy. This space was all his own. “Thankfully, the county sprays for mosquitoes.”
That got a low chuckle of agreement. He rested his cheek on her head and took a moment to breathe and catalog where he was, where they were and what was next. Planning too far ahead that afternoon had been too risky. A dream he hadn’t allowed to focus in case she didn’t happen.
Now though, now it was time to plan. At least a little bit. And that started with the truth.
“My knee didn’t make it through three days of skating and workouts,” he admitted. Icing and resting today had helped, some. It still ached like a bitch and throbbed whenever he stood or walked. “I tried to deny it. Force myself to endure and prove everyone wrong. That didn’t work very well.”
“What happened?” She didn’t try to turn around, and he was grateful for that. It was hard enough just getting it all out.
“I have three friends, teammates, who I told about everything.” He swallowed, throat burning just thinking about how he’d scorned their concern and damned their attempts to help. “They called me on it, especially Grenick.” A small laugh escaped. “That man pretty much told me I was being an ass and stupid if I kept skating.”
She chuckled. “I think I like him already.”
“Yeah. You probably will.” He used that term deliberately. He had every intention of introducing her to all of his friends—and family. “How long are you here for?”
Her inhale was sharp and she tensed in his arms. Not a lot, just enough to warn him. “Monday.” Okay. He’d expected that. She had school, after all. “And I don’t know when I can get back. Maybe in October for a long weekend.”
He squeezed his eyes closed, thankful she couldn’t see him, and dove in for what he really wanted. He had to ask. Offer at least. His stomach pinched then eased. They’d work it out, even if she said no. “How would you feel about me coming back with you?” His breath stuck in his chest as he waited, and waited. When no response came, he blew out the air and moved on to option B. “That’s okay. I know it’s a lot, fast. I just thought—”
“No.” She squirmed around to place her fingers over his lips. It was too dark to read her eyes, but her smile almost glowed. “I mean, yes. You’re welcome to come back with me. Stay as long as you want or until you decide what you’re going to do.”
Everything relaxed at her agreement. Muscles he hadn’t known were tense sagged with the release of another burdensome worry.
He pressed a kiss to her fingers then gently moved them away. “We, remember? We’re going to do that together.” His sister had been right about that too. Her words that morning had hit too close to the truth, which was why he’d rebelled.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and released it with a smile. “That means everything to me.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. “My father made all of the decisions in our house. I never saw him confer with my mother or worry about how every deployment and move impacted our family. It was all about him and his career.”
&nb
sp; Understanding dawned clearer as Scott viewed his actions through her perspective. “And I did the same thing.”
She glanced away. “It looked and felt that way at the time, yes.” Her eyes were bright when she looked back. “But I also see that I reacted mostly based on my past and not on the current situation. On us. I offered no flexibility and I see how my response came across as an ultimatum to you. I’m sorry for that.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m open to other options if you need to be here.”
“I can’t stay here.” That bomb dropped out fast and hard with the force of a day’s worth of conviction.
“What? Why?” She gaped at him. “This house is beautiful.”
He glanced around and shrugged. “But it’s just a place. One that has a lot of ties to what I’m trying to give up.” Another truth he’d come to that afternoon. It’d been a long day of revelations and admissions that’d left him oddly drained and revitalized. “I’ve been home two weeks and almost went back to the drugs. Even if I’m not playing, the temptation is here, the source easy.” Deleting Jessie’s number was little help when the man was a ten-minute drive away. “And being around guys who are still playing is going to be hard until I get my footing back.”
“I get that.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “I’m glad you do too.”
Yet she hadn’t pushed him to leave. He gave her a kiss, letting it spill through him to fill in the empty spaces he’d long forgotten. This was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and he had no doubt now that they’d get there.
“I want to see some specialists, too. Figure out what can be done for my knee now that my pro career is over.” He had to get himself straightened out so he could be there for her and hopefully their children. “And I have a few ideas for long term. Maybe something we could do together that would utilize both our skills.”
“Ooh.” She leaned back, brows winging up. Her tone was playful though, a smile on her lips. “That’s sounds interesting.” She waggled her brows, face straight for a whole second before she burst out laughing. “Okay. Now I’m being lame.” She shook her head and glanced at the sky. “Can I blame it on the wine I drank?”