Bodychecking

by Jami Davenport

  He lifted his hand to knock on the door. “Hey, I’m—” he said as she flung open the door and threw herself in his arms with huge, gulping sobs.

  Cedric held her tightly as scenarios fueled by his recent true-crime marathon ran through his brain. Had someone died? Been murdered? Had her attacker contacted her? His head almost imploded at the possibilities. He conceded he did have a bit of an overactive imagination. With the precarious state Bella had been in lately, her tears could be caused by something as simple as a torn fingernail.

  He held her tightly to him, stroking her back and murmuring words of comfort. She clung to him as if he were her personal savior. Her tears wet his Tommy Bahama shirt, and her now-too-thin body was racked with sobs. Whatever was wrong, she certainly hadn’t called him over for any kind of physical entertainment. Despite his alarm at her obvious distress, his heart filled with hope. She’d called him in her hour of need, which meant something.

  When her heart-wrenching sobs finally subsided and her body stopped shaking, he led her to the couch, noticing for the first time her studio was furnished with the furniture from his condo—the very furniture he loved and the very furniture she’d replaced with the pastel nightmare. Not that he cared right now.

  Rumble lay in his dog bed several feet away and growled a greeting. Cedric flipped him off, and the dog growled louder.

  Sitting Bella down on his leather couch, he faced her and held both of her hands. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  She stared up at him, looking almost as pathetic as she had the night of the attack. Her tear-streaked face was devoid of makeup. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

  “My mom.” She choked on the words, and a new bout of tears started. Her pulled her into his arms once again. Bella soaked his other shoulder—not that he was complaining. He’d gladly hold her under any circumstances. Cedric rubbed her back and waited patiently for the tears to subside once more. Sniffling, she raised her head.

  “Your mom?” he asked gently. “Is she okay?”

  Bella shook her head.

  “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”

  “She’s dying.” Her words were a wail of pain and agony.

  “What happened?” Cedric’s chest constricted. He’d only met Bella’s parents a few times. They were crappy parents but seemed to be okay people. Regardless, they were still her parents. Just like his parents were still his. He doubted he’d ever shed a tear over his father, but his mother merited a few.

  “She didn’t give me any details, but she told Izzy she has stage-four cancer. They’re heading to Mexico for a controversial new treatment. It’s her only chance.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He wiped the tears from her face with the bottom of his Tommy Bahama, at a loss as to what else to do. He’d never been good at this kind of stuff though he was getting better. He’d had a lot of experience lately.

  She laid her head against his chest and sighed.

  “I guess none of us can guarantee that we’ll have a tomorrow. Only a today,” he said.

  She managed a wry smile. “That’s pretty deep, Ced.”

  “Surprised?” he teased and drew a small smile from her.

  “Absolutely. What’s happening to us?” She met his gaze, blinking away the tears and sniffling.

  He wasn’t sure what she meant so he took the safe road. “I guess we’re growing up, throwing out the superficial, and delving deeper.”

  “Now that’s even more profound.” She giggled, making him chuckle. Wiping her tears away with his shirt, she gazed up at him, once again serious. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.” He wrapped her once again in his arms and held her as they both took comfort from the other in an easy silence.

  “Do you think we could try again?” She looked up at him.

  He wasn’t exactly sure what they were trying, but he’d settle for anything, sorry sad-ass that he was.

  She must have read his expression. “I want to start over as if we’ve just met and date like normal people do.”

  “We never dated, did we?”

  She smiled. “We fucked like rabbits any chance we got.”

  “Yeah, we did,” he said, forcing the wistfulness from his voice. This would be better, and it was what he wanted too. They needed to build a relationship centered on more than sex, sex, and more sex. Though he’d take the sex if she offered it.

  “I don’t know if I have the guts to go out in public, but I’ve been practicing my cooking. Maybe you could come here?”

  His stomach protested, still recalling the pot roast she’d cooked for him. “Ja, sure, that’d be great.”

  He’d do whatever she asked because he’d been a sucker for this woman way too long, and he wanted as normal as possible a relationship with her. “I have a home game tomorrow then we take off for a nine-day road trip. It seems like every time you need me the most, I’m gone, and I hate to leave you right now.”

  “You have to. I understand. During the season, hockey has to come first.”

  Which was exactly one of the reasons he’d fallen for her. As an athlete, she got it. She understood the commitment he made to his sport and never questioned that nothing short of a death in the family would make him miss a game, even though he was sorely tempted to develop a case of the plague tomorrow night. He wouldn’t, and she wouldn’t respect him if he did. She was exactly the kind of woman a guy wanted on his team, and he planned to find a way to sign her to a long-term contract, maybe the longest possible.

  “We fly in from Winnipeg early morning a week from this Wednesday. How about that night?”

  She nodded with a gleam in her eyes he hadn’t seen in far too long. He couldn’t resist. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, a soft, sweet, achingly tender kiss, which contained all the sadness and need he’d seen reflected in her eyes. When they drew back, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her tear-stained cheek. She caught his hand in hers and held it.

  “Stay with me tonight and hold me,” she said in a feeble little voice so unlike Bella.

  “Absolutely.”

  It’d be hell, but he’d do it for her.

  * * * *

  Bella watched Cedric on TV as he played great game after great game. He’d risen from his slump in grand fashion and was burning up the ice and taking no prisoners.

  With a green marker she x-ed the final square on her Sockeye calendar, which marked off the days until he returned from his road trip. She’d never done that before. If that wasn’t weird, she wasn’t sure what was.

  They texted every evening following his games, after which Bella combed the Internet for all things hockey. She’d known a little about hockey before, but now she found herself studying up as if she were getting ready for an NHL fan final exam. Hockey became her new obsession, along with practicing cooking, writing, and painting a few rooms for Izzy. In truth, Cedric was probably her obsession, but she chose to pretend otherwise. To admit how much she needed him would be to own up to another vulnerability. She’d been smacked in the head with so many lately, she couldn’t deal with one more.

  Something inside had shifted her the day she’d learned of her mother’s cancer and called Cedric for comfort. He’d held her all night long, and they’d done nothing more than kissing, but, oh, how that man could kiss. She wanted more out of him, but she wasn’t sure what more was. They’d done the sex route, but this went beyond sex. She’d brought up the dating, something he’d pushed in the past. Only this time, she wanted normalcy in her life. Dating had always seemed like something other women did, not Bella. She’d been too busy going for extreme highs, rather than concentrating on an activity as seemingly mundane as dating. Yet, it didn’t seem so mundane now.

  The sensei at her dojo called again to inquire in his gentle way if she was ready to come back. The man who’d replaced her was a well-known dick, and her former students were suffering because of him, and Bella shouldered the guilt of deserting them along with everything else. The load she was carrying weighed heavily
on her.

  She told Sensei she’d think about it, but she had no intention of returning to martial arts teaching. How could she when it hadn’t helped her when she’d needed it most? She didn’t have confidence to believe she could help these remarkable women and men who’d risen above more heinous acts than Bella ever had.

  On Wednesday, as time drew closer for her dinner in with Cedric, she became equal parts nervous and excited. She prepared dinner carefully. Emma helped her with an easy—for Emma—marsala chicken, red potatoes, and a tasty salad. Her sister disappeared before Cedric was due, wishing her luck. Bella wished she’d called a caterer.

  He’d be here in a half hour. Bella took a quick shower and dressed in a conservative but sexy sweater and flirty skirt, despite her recent moratorium on attracting attention to her body, even though she knew the attack had nothing to do with how he’d been dressed at the time.

  Besides, this was Cedric after all, and he was one-hundred-percent safe. He’d become her lifeline and her shoulder to lean on. She could be herself around him, and she wasn’t certain she’d ever been herself around anyone else before, even her sisters.

  She heard a knock on the door, fifteen minutes before Cedric was due. Bella checked the peephole. Of course, it was Cedric, beyond punctual as usual. She opened the door, feeling weirdly nervous. Rumble growled from his dog bed in the corner, lifted his big head, saw it was Cedric, and went back to sleep after wagging his stump a few times.

  Cedric stood on her doorstep, holding a huge bouquet of bright flowers in one hand and a bag of doggie treats in the other. He sported a huge, yet nervous, smile, and shifted from one foot to the other. His uncertainty won her heart.

  “Hi, there,” she said, almost shyly, and Bella couldn’t recall ever feeling shy a day in her life.

  “Hey, beautiful.” His lopsided grin reminded her of more carefree days. He dropped the gifts on the counter. She allowed herself to be pulled into his spell, as he wrapped her in his charm and made her feel safe.

  Life was good when Cedric was in it.

  The thought startled Bella as he pulled her into his strong arms like a precious package with a big bow and expensive gift wrap. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his subtle aftershave. His deep voice rumbled in her ear, his accent unusually strong, as he spoke to her in Swedish, which always turned her inside out and upside down.

  “I missed you,” he growled as he nuzzled her neck and nipped at her earlobe. She whimpered, truly aroused for the first time in far too long. She wanted more, and maybe tonight she’d have the guts to go for it.

  “I missed you too.” Her oddly husky voice startled her with its raw need.

  “I missed this. Missed us.” He rested his forehead against hers and hummed a nonsensical song. She nodded into his shirt, unable to speak. Yeah, she missed this also, so much it scared the crap out of her. He felt so good. His arms comforted her instead of sending her into a panic. His voice lulled her into boneless relaxation. His freshly scrubbed scent made her lightheaded, as if floating lazily on a white fluffy cloud on a warm summer day.

  Maybe, just maybe, she was healing a little, and she was doing it her way at her speed on her terms.

  She pushed her newfound courage further, lifting her face to his and sliding her hands under his shirt to feel his warm skin. She heard his breath catch. Her lips parted in invitation, and he accepted her invitation. Their lips touched, soft, moist, and warm. The gentleness in his kiss burrowed past her walls and into the rooms housing the real person she hid from the world.

  He pushed her sweater up and ran calloused fingers over her exposed back. She shivered, reveling in his touch on her sensitized skin. His hands drifted higher, and she froze, pushing on his chest. He stepped back, his eyes dilated with desire, yet his gaze was troubled.

  “Sorry.” He rubbed his hands over his face, as if the gesture could erase his frustration.

  “Cedric,” Bella said in wispy voice she didn’t recognize as her own. “I started it. You were only following my lead. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  He buried his face in her hair and drew in a tortured sigh. “I know, you’re not ready. I understand. Really, I do.” He looked up and met her gaze with understanding, despite the tic in his jaw betraying how hard this was for him.

  Pursing her lips, she nodded and forced a smile. “I cooked dinner, and it’s going to be fab-u-lous!”

  “It smells damn good to me.”

  Pulling away, she grabbed his hand and led him to the small dining table. He took a seat while she dimmed the lights and lit the candles. She placed his flowers in a vase on the table, plated the food, and set the two plates on the table. The domestic scene enveloped her in a warmth she’d been missing for too long.

  Cedric stared at the food and raised his gaze to hers. “This is almost too beautiful to eat.”

  “If the presentation is good enough, you’ll forget what the food tastes like.” She winked at him, and it felt so good to tease.

  “I’m positive it’ll be great.”

  She poured some wine and smiled at him, even as the confidence drained from her. Susie Homemaker she wasn’t. She’d barely been able to toast an English muffin without turning it into a hockey puck. Yet, this meal looked good, and she’d followed Emma’s directions with an attention to detail she rarely displayed except when putting on makeup or learning her katas.

  Cedric saluted her with his wineglass and raised the fork to his mouth. He took a bite of chicken and chewed. Bella held her breath, waiting for his verdict, and the bastard made her wait. She was pretty certain he’d lie even if he didn’t like it so she watched his handsome face carefully. He’d grown some stubble during the road trip, which looked sexy as hell on him, hiding his pretty-boy face and giving him a slightly rougher appearance. She liked both versions.

  He looked up to find her watching him. A smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

  “Well?” she said, a little demanding and a lot impatient.

  He chuckled, leaned across the table, and squeezed her hand. “Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. I never knew you could cook.”

  She blew out a breath. “Neither did I.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. Bella joined in, and some of that heavy weight bearing down on her shoulders lifted.

  * * * *

  After dinner, Bella wanted to watch hockey; the Pens and Bruins were playing. Cedric attempted to conceal his shock as he sipped another glass of wine. From the excellent meal, beautiful table, and her interest in hockey, everything about Bella tonight had surprised him.

  He’d gotten a little carried away earlier, and she’d stopped him. He was a guy, after all, and he couldn’t deny he wanted Bella as much as he’d ever wanted her, but he had to take it slow, let her call the shots and give him hints when she was ready for more intimacy.

  Yeah, intimacy.

  Bella and he had fucked each other’s brains out, but he didn’t believe they’d ever been intimate in the emotional sense of the word. Cedric wanted that intimacy, and he was willing to wait for it.

  Bella sat close to him, their thighs touching, a good sign. He put his arm loosely across the back of the couch, entwining his fingers in the silky strands of her dark red hair. He couldn’t resist touching her, but he was careful, watching her closely for any negative reaction or moments of panic. So far, he saw none.

  “You want to watch hockey?” he asked a second time, not certain he’d heard her correctly.

  “I love hockey.” Her radiant smile couldn’t be faked. She meant it.

  “You do?” She’d always liked hockey, but loved it? This was fucking weird, but he went with it.

  “Yes, besides I have a crush on a certain Penguins player.”

  Cedric rolled his eyes and blew out a disgusted snort. “You and half the female population of the US and Canada.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “Do you want me to be?” he shot back, enjoying their bantering. It’
d been too long.

  “I asked you first.”

  “I’m jealous of any man you’re interested in who isn’t me.” He spoke honestly, laying it out there and waiting for her reaction.

  Her gorgeous red lips formed a perfect O, reminding him of the times those lips had been wrapped around his cock. His dick remembered too, and hardened in appreciation of those memories. Give the damn thing an inch, and it’d take a mile. He reached for her hands and took the leap to the next level.

  “Bella, I want to be the only man in your life. I want a relationship with you.” The words popped out, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—take them back. He’d fooled himself into believing all he’d wanted was exclusive sex from her, which he hadn’t gotten in a month. Time to face facts. Obviously he wanted more. How much more? Fuck if he knew?

  “We’re trying this dating thing,” she offered.

  “I know. I guess I want to be the only man in your life.” He held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

  She shook her head, staring at her hands. “I don’t know. I’m not seeing anyone else, but I’m not sure what I’m ready for next.”

  “I’ll wait however long it takes.”

  “What if I’m never ready?” She raised luminous green eyes to meet his.

  “You will be. I’m a patient man.” He leaned close and left a trail of kisses across her jaw. She tilted her head and whimpered, which was a damn good sign in his playbook. They were making progress, and, more importantly, so was Bella.

  “I don’t know what I want.” She squeezed his hand and held it tight as he nuzzled her neck.

  “What are you afraid of? And don’t say the attack. This goes far beyond that. You’ve been avoiding relationships your entire life.”

  “I know,” she said honestly, “but the attack only complicates everything.”

  “And gives you a good excuse.”

  “Do you think that’s all this is? An excuse?”