"It was a late hit." Landon's lips quirked. So she had been paying attention. "But if the refs don't see it, it doesn't count."
Minutes later, the ref blew the whistle.
"Bullshit!" Silver stood and approached the glass, pointing like she was condemning the ref to the farthest reaches of hell. Adorable in all her indignant fury. "You said offside was when the player crossed the blue line before the puck! He didn't!"
"The left winger did."
"He did not! I was watching!" She put her hands on her hips. "I don't like these refs. Let's get new ones."
Inwardly, Landon roared with laughter. Outwardly he managed a straight face. "We don't get to choose the refs, mignonne. And besides, that was the linesman."
"Oh . . . can we fire them?"
"No. The officials don't work for the team, they work for the league." He patted the seat beside him and draped his arm over her shoulder when she sat. His mouth watered as he caught her scent. The woman always smelled like flowers and candy. "If you're getting this worked up now, imagine what you'll be like during the regular season. This is nothing."
"I'm going to need a prescription for Prozac." She shot off the sofa as though a spring had propelled her. "That hit was bad. You said hitting the numbers—oh no! What if he's out for the season? He looks like he's hurt!"
Landon stood and moved to her side. Carter again. Not surprising, the kid had been chirping the entire game. But he got to his feet without any help and made it to the bench. "He's fine. And look, Pledich is headed for the box."
"He should be thrown out!" She glanced over her shoulder as the assistant general manager snorted. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, ma'am." The man pushed his glasses up with his thumb and went back to his paperwork, muttering. "Women don't get it."
"You I can fire." Silver bared her teeth and jerked on the hem of her white suit jacket. She turned to Landon. "I don't get it. I'm the owner, but I have no say over what goes on down there?"
Damn, can I take the fifth? "That's not entirely true."
"Then how can I make this team better? It doesn't take a genius to know they're not doing good. Five goals in ten shots. Is that normal?"
Okay, maybe it would be better if she hadn't been paying attention. His answer wouldn't satisfy her and her passion was driving him to distraction. "Non, mon chou, but we're playing a goalie from the minors against one of the best lineups in the league. We'd be doing better if I was out there—"
"You said these games don't count."
"They don't."
"And we need you playing your best during real games."
"True."
"Then sit down and shut up!" She faced the glass and threw her hands in the air. "What's wrong with him? We don't need a penalty now!"
Dominik Mason headed to the box after an interference hit on Pledich. The crowd roared and stomped their feet.
"Idiots!" Silver spat like an angry little cat. "Why are they cheering?"
"It's very hard to explain anything while you're fuming over every call, Silver." Landon hooked his fingers to the pockets of her slacks and pulled her back to the sofa. Beside him only after he thought better of placing her on his lap. "Take a seat. Breathe. And listen."
Silver's whole body trembled with agitation, but as she turned and lifted her gaze to his, something inside her seemed to latch onto his calm. She settled down beside him and folded her hands on her lap.
"Okay. I'm listening."
Landon smiled and tapped her nose. "There's a good girl. Now, one thing you have to understand about hockey, even if you can't fully grasp anything else, is that it's not just about scoring, or even winning. Of course, that's important too, but pride and respect stay with you even if you're with a team that can't contend for The Cup—"
"But—"
"Don't interrupt." His eyes narrowed slightly at her huff. It took everything he had not to latch on to her token submission. But he barreled on. "When you're out there on the ice, you've got to be able to trust that the other men have your back. For passes, or, if you're a goalie, to keep your line of sight clear. Works better if you're all gelling. That also means if someone takes a cheap shot, you're going to want to make them pay. Having every guy on the team going for revenge would be a mess, but that's kinda Dominik's job. I think he'd do it anyway, but at least the other teams know they won't get away with targeting our players." He shook his head and watched Carter skate by the opposition's bench, getting just close enough while he chirped to tempt them to make a grab for him. Punk! "Whether they deserve it or not."
"So this is what you consider a good penalty?" Silver held her tongue between her teeth and tilted her head slightly. "Like when that defense guy got a tripping penalty?"
She's catching on. He nodded. "Yes, exactly. You've got to know the rules. And you've got to know when to break them."
The door to the owner's box opened and Landon glanced over distractedly to see who'd come in. His eyes widened as he watched his sister stride towards him, her eyes spitting fire.
"Tu es stupide! Tu mériterais une claque en pleine face!"
Silver scrambled to her feet when it looked like Becky might slap him like she'd threatened to in French. "Excuse me, who are you?"
"Miss Delgado, I appreciate you forcing my brother to stay off the ice, but this is between me and him." Becky gnashed her teeth together in the way she did whenever she got really mad. The sound made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He stood before she could shove Silver aside and she latched onto the collar of his shirt. "Suis-moi."
"Non. Calme toi un petit peu." He pried her fingers loose and held a finger up to Silver as he drew his sister to the back of the room, speaking low in their birth language. "What are you doing here? Where's Casey?"
"Staying with mom and dad. And by the way, you're lucky I didn't tell mom why I came down or she would be here beating you upside the head for being such a moron!" Her voice rose and she ignored his efforts to quiet her. At least no one could understand what she was saying. She cracked him upside the head and kept ranting. "Who leaves the kitchen while they're cooking? You could have died! I can't lose you!"
Landon pulled her into his arms and let her stifle a sob against his chest. "I'm okay. And I'm sorry I scared you. I swear I'll be more careful from now on."
She sniffed and shook her head. "It only takes once. Just once. You don't always get lucky."
A massive fist took hold of his heart and squeezed. It wasn't surprising that Becky was this upset. She was the most level headed person he knew, but something like this would trigger all too recent memories. She'd almost lost her daughter because her now ex had left their toddler alone in the bath 'to play' while he entertained his new girlfriend.
Patrick had called her from the hospital and Becky had called Landon on the way there, almost falling apart as she asked him to join her because she wanted him to take her husband out like the trash he was. Landon had no problem with that. Yes, accidents happened, but that wasn't the first time he'd neglected his daughter for a piece of ass.
"Becky, look at me." He dried her tears from her face with his palms and kissed her cheeks. "Would it make you feel better to slap me a few times?"
Becky let out a watery laugh. "Yes, but I won't." She stood back and looked him over. "Are you sure you're all right? No burns?"
"Well?" Landon lifted his bandaged hand. "Just a little one, but that happened before the fire."
"Ugh." She gently took his hand in hers and shook her head. "Swear to me you'll never try to cook again. Either order out or find someone to do it for you." Her nose wrinkled as she glanced over at Silver who was pretending not to watch them. "Just not her."
"Hey, for all you know, she's a great cook!"
"Really? Well, then, how about I bring mom and dad and Casey down for your first home game. She can cook us supper and convince me that she won't kill you." Becky reached into her purse and brought out some tickets. "That would make me feel much bette
r."
"But we're not—"
"Make your big sister happy and don't argue." She elbowed past him and approached Silver, switching fluidly to English. "Sorry about that. I was on the phone when the fire started and I had a mini panic attack." Her hand jutted out and Landon winced as her nails dug into the back of Silver's hand. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Rebecca Bower."
"Silver Delgado." To Silver's credit, she didn't even wince. A pleasant mask slipped over her features and she arched a brow at Landon as he joined them. "I freaked a little when Landon told me he burned down his apartment, so I can only imagine how you felt."
"Yes, well thank you for taking care of him."
"He's a good investment."
"I'm glad you think so." Becky finally released Silver's hand and gave her a tight smile. "I hope you don't mind, but the family will be coming down in a few weeks to watch Landon's play, and he said you can cook, so we'll be swinging by for an early dinner before the game."
"I never—" Landon snapped his lips together at Silver's glare, then tried again. "Becky—"
"That would be wonderful." Silver eyed the rink and cleared her throat. "I look forward to meeting your parents."
"Good." With a curt nod, Becky turned away from Silver and reached out to give Landon a stiff hug. "I have to catch my flight. I feel much better knowing you're okay and in good hands. See you in October."
"You want me to drive you to the airport?" Landon followed his sister to the door and held it open for her. "I'm not really busy."
"I'll be fine. And I have a feeling she needs you here." Becky's lips quirked as Silver made an aggravated sound at another 'bad call'. "She's really clueless, isn't she?"
"She's learning."
"I thought you had better taste."
"Did you?" He stared at her until she looked away. She knew better than to assume that after his last relationship. "Really?"
"Okay, okay, you're right. But . . . Silver Delgado? Seriously?" She flattened her hand on his chest. "What the hell are you going to do with a girl like that?"
Her presumptions irked him, because no matter what she thought, he and Silver were just friends. But even worse, she didn't think Silver was worthy of him.
He bent down and whispered. "I hated Patrick, but I never judged you for being with him. He was a mistake, but he was your choice. I get that you're gun shy, but you don't even know her and you're not being fair."
Becky nodded slowly. "So you're saying she's not a mistake?"
A mistake? No. The only mistake is not making her mine. "I've known her less than a week, but I can tell you, right now, any man would be lucky to have her."
"Okay. I'll take your word for it." Becky sighed and patted his chest. "Just don't be as stupid about her as you were about cooking bacon."
"I won't." Liar! He clenched his fist against the door. "Have a safe trip home."
After his sister left, he returned to Silver's side, his palms itching to touch her even though he knew he shouldn't. Silver solved that problem by slipping her hand into his.
"Dominik did it again." She smiled up at him. "And this time, I got it."
I knew you would. He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head as they observed the rest of the play in silence. I just wish that I got you.
Chapter Twelve
After the game, Silver strolled down the short hall away from the concession stands and groaned as Landon broke off a piece of his huge pretzel and held it to her mouth. The man couldn't seem to stop feeding her! Every time they hung out, her strict, self-imposed diet took a nose dive out the closest window. But the approving smile he gave her was worth every pound she'd have to burn.
Stepping lightly, she pictured the game in her head and chewed fast. "You know, even though we lost, I think we played pretty good. I mean those two last minute goals were . . . ."
"Sweet." Landon fiddled with his tie and undid the top button of his off-white shirt. "If they hadn't disallowed the last one, we would have tied it up. I think we've got a strong season ahead of us."
"With you in net?" Silver tugged him past the elevator, towards the stairs. "We would have buried them! And we're going to bury all the other teams!"
"You haven't seen me play yet, mignonne." He held the door open for her and followed her down the first flight. "For all you know, I'm horrible."
"I doubt that." Reaching the door to the main floor, she stopped and turned to fix his new grey tie. His fans would be out there. He had to look perfect. Her lips twitched up as she ran her gaze over his barely-there brown hair and his charming smile surrounded by a scruffy shadow. He always looks perfect. She gulped as his gaze turned knowing and her pulse quickened. "That word, 'mignonne', what does it mean?"
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Cutie."
"Ah." Open door. Keep moving. She backed up and this time held the door open for him. "And 'chou'?"
"Cabbage," he said, hooking his arm through hers to lead her through the parting crowds.
Digging in her heels, she jerked him to a stop. "Cabbage?"
"Yes. It's a common French endearment."
"Yeah, well could you use something else?" Her nose wrinkled as she tried to imagine how 'cabbage' could be considered an endearment. "I hate cabbage."
"How about, mon lapine?"
"Which means . . . ?"
"My rabbit."
She punched him lightly in the gut. "No freakin' way. I'm your boss, not your puck bunny."
His teeth flashed in a broad grin. "Touché. Shall we go with mon chaton?"
Her brows shot up expectantly.
He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "Kitten."
Little tremors ran over her flesh, causing all the tiny hairs to rise. Heat flooded her cheeks and she forced her eyes not to drift shut as she shook her head. "You shouldn't call me things like that, Landon. We're friends. Just friends."
"I know."
"You don't want more, do you?"
The skin around his eyes creased as he brought her hand to his lips. "I want us to have this, Silver. I love hanging out and talking. I love you calling me on my shit. More would change everything."
"You're right." But, but—A little voice in her head whimpered as she slammed a mental door in its face. He was right. And things were complicated enough with Dean. "So, about dinner with your parents . . . ."
Landon groaned and released her hand to run his own over his hair. "I'm sorry about that. When Becky gets something in her head—"
"That's not what I'm worried about." She bit her tongue, then laughed. "I'm no better at cooking than you are! What are we going to feed them?"
He chuckled. "I'm sure we'll think of something."
"Maybe we can get Dean to play chef." Where the hell had that come from? Arms folded over her chest, she watched the crowd thin and quickly changed the subject. "Umm . . . where are you staying tonight?"
Before Landon could answer, a voice called out from the other side of the room. "Bower! I was looking for you."
"Hey, Perron." Landon shook hands with the man. "What's up?"
Max glanced over at Silver. "Hey, sis." He continued before she could stutter out a coherent word. "We all heard about the fire. I'm sorry you're laid up, but glad to hear you made it out okay. Where are you aiming to crash?"
"There must be a good motel around here?" Landon apparently didn't notice her trying to get his attention with her wave and throat clearing, because he just kept talking. "I was about to ask Silver, but she probably doesn't know anywhere cheap." He gave her a one armed hug. "No offense, I wouldn't want you staying at a place like that anyway. Your dad probably had you all set up when you moved back, right, ma chérie?"
Uck, I need a translator for this guy. What's he calling me now? The French words sounded familiar. Pricey? She elbowed him in the side. "I'm paying you enough for you to stay somewhere nice. And besides, I was going to say—"
> "I have to replace everything, Silver. I'm not wasting money on a hotel."
"Then—"
"Why don't you stay at my place?" Max put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "A man has his pride, darlin'. And I've got plenty of space, Bower. I reckon Sloan and Dominik won't mind having you around."
Landon nodded slowly. "What about your wife?"
Max snorted. "She'd take Sloan's whip to me if I didn't make the offer. Seriously, man, we're a team. We look out for each other."
"Thank you. It shouldn't be for more than a week," Landon said.
Silver ground her teeth. "Are you sure you have enough rooms?"
"Vanek moved in with Carter, so we're got a spare." Max seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh. "If you're concerned, you can swing by and check it out."
Damn it, Landon can stay with me! She wanted to kick Max. He obviously thought she would rather take his word that Landon would be fine than face Sloan and Oriana. Her family. More people who couldn't stand her.
But he obviously didn't know her very well.
She smiled sweetly. "I'd love to."
Eyes wide, Max looked at Landon as though expecting him to object.
Landon smiled and took her hand. "I was hoping you'd say that. We can swing by your place and pick up a few movies. We've got a few Clint Eastwoods to go through to finish our marathon."
"Oh yeah! I fell asleep during Unforgiven—I really wanted to see that one!" She batted her eyelashes at Max. "You don't mind, do you, bro?"
* * * *
Silver flicked her French manicured nails, one at a time, against her thumb as she gazed up at the blocky, modern two-story house from the driver's seat of her car. A light breeze came through her open window and the cold bit through her thin, sporty fall jacket. She'd changed at her place while Landon picked out the movie, going for a casual look in jeans and a plain white cotton t-shirt, but now she wished she'd stuck with her regular, high fashion wardrobe. Louis Vutton didn't leave her feeling vulnerable and young. Heels gave her stature.
Sneakers made her small and insignificant.
Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) Page 14