His Game, Her Rules

by Charlene Groome

  “To us!” she says, surprised how easily the words flow out of her mouth.

  They clink their glasses together and take a sip, both letting out a satisfied sound, pleased by the brilliant taste that coats their mouths.

  “Very good,” she says.

  “Not bad,” he says, putting his glass down on the island and taking her into his arms. She holds his gaze steadily as though a powerful force were pulling their lips together. Ty runs his fingertips down one side of her arm. She feels his breath on her lips and is carried away by the firmness of his embrace. There is tenderness in every move. She follows him into the bedroom and lets him pull her down on his bed. His eyes drop from her eyes to her breasts. He slips the flowy blouse over her head and kisses her flesh along the silk trim of her bra. He murmurs the words, “beautiful” and “turn-on,” not sure what he’s saying. His head is at her tummy, exploring her crevassed abs. She doesn’t react to his neediness, but settles back into his comforter, enjoying the touch of his lips against her skin. Why did she believe dating Ty was against her rules?

  He presses his body into hers, completing their desire to feel loved, wanted, needed....

  As they lay in each other’s arms, catching their breaths, she realizes this is more of a committed relationship than she planned and it feels great to be loved, yet she can’t bring herself to say the words, afraid to have her heart broken.

  Ty jumps up and says, “I have to check on dinner!” He gets out of bed and dresses as he races into the kitchen.

  Eileen lies in his bed for a moment, dreaming what it would be like to live with Ty and share a bed permanently. The funny thing is, it doesn’t seem like a crazy idea. She reaches for her bra and panties and, once she is clothed, wanders into the kitchen, where an aroma fills the air.

  “It’s been a long time since someone has cooked me dinner.” It’s been a long time since she’s felt excited about a home-cooked meal.

  “It won’t be the last,” he tells her, dishing out the rice and putting it into a serving bowl. “Dinner is ready!” Ty announces, happily taking the dishes to the table set for two. “Have a seat,” he says, pulling out a chair for her and then returning to the kitchen to grab the chicken and his glass of wine.

  Eileen can’t help but smile. “Looks great!”

  “Dig in!” he says, waiting for her to start scooping out the rice before he helps himself.

  She dishes out a piece of chicken from the platter. “I’ll have to cook for you next time, but there’s no guarantee that my supper will turn out this delicious.”

  He tops up their wineglasses. “Timing is everything and dinner is always good when you have a glass of wine with it.”

  She cuts up her asparagus and before taking a bite, she says, “I think it goes with everything.”

  “I think so too.”

  “So have you seen Ritchie at work yet?” Eileen asks.

  Ty swallows and brings his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat before answering. “No, I haven’t. I heard soon, though.”

  “Yeah, I wonder what soon means. It could mean the end of the week or next month.”

  “Don’t let it bother you tonight. Just sit back and forget about work. Drink your wine and taste Tyler Caldwell’s cuisine.”

  Eileen grins. “I don’t think I have ever heard you or anyone else refer to you as Tyler.”

  “Just my mom,” he admits.

  “And Slick? How long have you had that nickname for?”

  He lowers his fork to the table and clenches his jaw as if not wanting to admit it. “I think it started when I played junior.”

  Eileen nods. “I don’t think I want to know why you got that name.”

  “No, I don’t think you’d want to know.”

  “Of course you’ve piqued my interest,” she says playfully and then takes a bite of her chicken. She swallows her food. “I can only guess why you have a nickname like that.”

  “You know what guys are like when they get together.”

  “Yes, I do. Too well, I think,” she says. “Where did you learn to cook like this? I had no idea you had a hidden talent besides hockey.”

  “That’s right; you thought you were getting just a jock.”

  “I had no idea!” She giggles.

  “My mom’s a great cook. I have to admit when I’m stuck on a recipe, I give Mom a call.”

  “Yes, moms are wonderful,” she says. “What’s your favorite meal she cooks you?”

  “That would have to be her cabbage rolls. They’re to die for,” he says, placing a hand to his stomach. “I’d love for you to meet my parents one of these days. My mom would love you.”

  “Thank you. That would be really nice,” she says. “I am curious what they’re like.”

  “My mom’s easy to get along with.”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  Eileen’s cell phone rings.

  Ty stops chewing. “Is that your phone I hear?”

  “It is,” Eileen says, ignoring the ring.

  “Are you still getting threats?”

  “No, not since I was let go. Obviously it was someone tied to the organization. How else would someone know where to find me?”

  Ty shrugs. “Coincidence?”

  “Whoever it was, I’m glad it’s over.”

  “Go ahead and answer it if you want, I don’t mind.”

  “No, that’s okay. We’re eating,” she says, taking another bite, fearing that Mario is trying to get in touch with her. When she swallows her food, she says, “Whoever it is, I can call them back. Look at that—it stopped ringing.”

  A moment later, Ty says, “I think I hear it ringing again.”

  Eileen stands up from the table to retrieve her purse. “Sorry, it’s probably my friend Brooke phoning to tell me that she’s sold another purse,” she says with a nervous laugh. “Her business is picking up.” Eileen opens her purse up and pulls out her cell phone, which is still ringing. “Hello?” she answers, a little irritated that it’s cutting into her romantic dinner date. She knows the number and it better be important.

  “Elle!”

  “Nick?”

  “Uncle Gary’s been in a car accident. I’m at Vancouver General.” The color in Eileen’s face drains. Her stomach feels tight, her heart beats faster, and she brings her hand to her forehead. Suddenly the memories of her parents come to mind, her brother calling her to tell her the bad news. It was five years ago, yet some days it feels recent. Eileen remembers that cold November day. She came home late from the veterinarian clinic where she worked as an assistant when Nick called to say there had been an accident. At first, she thought her mom had a broken arm or her dad had some cuts and scratches. Nick was calm on the phone. He didn’t alarm her or suggest that she should expect anything serious. She didn’t even change her clothes. It was only nine-thirty; she could shower when she came home.

  Eileen remembers parking her car in the first stall she saw and rushing into the emergency room, where a nurse met her to take her to Nick. It was like a whirlwind. One minute, she was walking down the hallway of the hospital; the next, she met Nick and Cathy, who were crying, at a waiting area. She knew something bad had happened. Even though her heart was telling her what she didn’t want to know, the fear overcame her when Nick opened his mouth. It was a blur, all those emotions. The devastation and reality of her parents’ death was nothing she ever expected. What hurt the most was that her parents were good people and were deeply loved. She was close to both of them. The car accident didn’t have to happen. It was timing. If only they left earlier or didn’t go to the party at all, her parents would be alive. She’ll never get over her loss.

  She squeezes her eyes shut.

  Oh, please let Uncle Gary be okay.

  Eileen glances over at Ty, who is sitting at the table, not eating, but listening closely to her conversation. “I’m on my way,” she says frantically and throws her phone into her purse.

  Ty’s eyes lift in curiosity. He sits back in
his chair as though bracing himself for the news. “What is it?”

  “Uncle Gary, he’s been in a car accident. That was my brother calling me to let me know,” she says, looking at him. “I’m really sorry, Ty, but I have to go.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Ty says, jumping up from the table. “Let’s go!”

  They arrive at the emergency ward of Vancouver General Hospital. The room is packed to bursting, so they opt to stand outside for some fresh air as they wait for the prognosis.

  Nick walks out of the ER doors to where Eileen and Ty are standing, embracing each other. Nick looks at Ty and then makes eye contact with his sister and says, “I thought I told you to be careful, Elle.” His tone is bitter. There is no doubt he is disappointed that she’s not alone and she’s with a hockey player, of all people.

  She breaks away from Ty and shoots Nick a puzzled look. “I am careful,” she says.

  “No, I don’t think you understand.”

  “I do understand,” she snaps, knowing exactly what he’s referring to. “You don’t have the right to tell me who I can be with.”

  “No, but someone needs to look out for you,” he counters.

  Ty cuts in, “Look, we’re not here to fight—”

  “Stay out of this!”

  “I love your sister. I’d never want to hurt her, and I won’t.” Ty glances at Eileen, and it’s a pivotal moment when she knows he feels the same about her.

  “I respect that you are looking out for her, and as her brother, you should. Now, if we can all get along . . . right now, there’s a man lying in a hospital bed, hurt and waiting for a prognosis, while we’re out here arguing about who your sister can have a relationship with.”

  Eileen is distracted by her aunt walking out of the sliding doors of the hospital, looking distraught, no makeup on and wearing a long skirt and dress top.

  “They say he’s going to be fine,” Auntie Lin says, exhaling a breath. Her eyes are teary. “He really had me worried.”

  “How is he feeling?” Nick asks.

  “Okay,” she answers, wiping an eye with a finger. “He has a gash on the side of his head, some bruising.... He looks rough, but he’ll be okay.”

  Eileen relaxes her shoulders. “That’s a relief.”

  “He really had me worried,” Auntie Lin says again weakly, bringing her hand to her heart. “I can’t live without that man. He’s my life, my best friend. . . .”

  Ty reaches for Eileen’s shoulders and pulls her into his chest.

  Suddenly Eileen has a better understanding of what it feels like to be loved by a man. She needs to find the time to tell him, tell him she was wrong for doubting him and to promise to never doubt him again. After she meets with Mario tomorrow.

  Chapter 18

  Eileen walks the pier at Granville Island, watching people peel off crust from their sandwiches and throw it to the pigeons. Summer is almost over, but one would never know from the public enjoying the sunshine. A busker plays the accordion and a clown entertains the crowd. She walks back in the direction she started from. Her hands are clammy, and her toes are moist in her sandals. She feels her cheeks warm with worry, as she looks around and wonders if Mario is a no-show.

  She looks at her watch: quarter after two. He’s not going to show. Did she really expect Mario to show up pleading for her to come back to him? He’s probably done some thinking and is tired of sleeping with the same women over and over again so he’s coming back to her to try and reconcile the relationship. Is it possible after all this time? What about Ty? She’s in love with him and can’t imagine life without him. Why didn’t Mario contact her two years ago to say how he feels?

  “There you are!” a voice yells out. Mario is walking toward her wearing dark sunglasses and a tight T-shirt showing off his athletic build. A thick gold band with diamonds is on his right index finger, his souvenir for winning the Stanley Cup last year.

  Eileen turns to him and smiles with uncertainty. She lifts her sunglasses off her face to reveal herself and takes a good look at her ex-boyfriend. She is stunned by his saunter and easygoing smile. The Mario she remembers is a tough-guy, hard around the edges, with lots of attitude and a healthy dose of self-assurance. He would raise his chin every time he made a statement and hold out his chest as though proud of his attitude.

  “Hi,” she says, smiling, staring at his well-formed physique and noticing his tanned skin.

  If he thinks I’m going to take him back, I’m not. I’m not going to be his second best. I need to show him that I don’t miss him and I’m much better off without him. Kill him with happiness, that’s what I have to do, and don’t forget to smile, lots.

  “Sorry, I’m late. I’m so glad you’re still here,” Mario says. “I couldn’t find parking.”

  “I was just about to leave,” she lies, still studying him, his dark mop of hair, his thick eyebrows, and his white teeth, none of which are real—he’s been wearing dentures since he was twenty-five after he got punched in the mouth in a game.

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” he says, looking content and peaceful, not so uptight like she remembers.

  Eileen smiles.

  “You look great, Elle. Really good,” he says, eyeing her up and down and then pulling her in for a hug and a quick release.

  “Thank you. You look good yourself,” she says, grinning.

  “Lost ten pounds,” he says, patting his stomach. “Changed my diet and my workout.”

  “Good for you! Congratulations on winning the cup.”

  “Thanks! A lot has changed. Actually, I’ve gone through a lot of changes since . . . since you and I . . .” he says, his voice trailing off.

  “You and me both,” she says quickly, saving him the explanation.

  They walk together to find a place to sit.

  “Would you like something cold to drink?” he asks. “I could use a lemonade.”

  “Make that two,” she says, making their way to the walk-up counter.

  “What have you been up to?” he asks, paying for their drinks.

  “A lot.” She’s unsure of where to start.

  “All good, I hope.” He hands her a tall plastic cup half filled with ice, and they wander over to find a bench facing the water.

  “Yeah. But I want to hear about you,” she says, taking a sip from her straw. “What makes you travel across country to see me?”

  If he tells me he’s coming back for me, I’m not falling for him, no way. I don’t care how charming he is. I’m with Ty now.

  “I had some unfinished business to take care of.”

  “Really?” she asks, not believing a word he’s saying. He never played for the Warriors so the only unfinished business here is to see her. “In Vancouver?”

  “First of all, I really wanted to see you to tell you that I’ve missed you, Eileen.”

  He really does want me back!

  “And I want to tell you that I’m sorry how things ended between us. I wasn’t fair to you.” He looks out onto the water filled with sailboats and water taxis.

  “It took you two years to realize that?”

  “I know it seems unreasonable to come back here and beg for forgiveness.”

  “Are you begging?” she asks sarcastically and then laughs.

  He shakes his head, grinning slightly. “Do you forgive me?”

  Did she? For a year, Eileen has held a grudge against Mario and never thought she would see him again. Now he’s sitting beside her drinking lemonade and she’s stuck for words. If Nick were here, he’d want to knock him out.

  “Mario.” She clears her throat. “You hurt me,” she admits. “I was caught up in Mario Visconti the romantic, charming boyfriend, not the tough-guy hockey player you’re famous as. What you did to me wasn’t fair—you really hurt me.” Her voice softens. “I tried to forget, but I trusted you—”

  Mario turns his body to face her, lowers his drink to his lap, and says, “I do feel bad. At the time I wasn’t thinking of us. Unfortunately, I was
thinking of myself. I guess the saying ‘you hurt the ones you love’ is true.”

  Her heart races and a pang of guilt hits her. She thinks of Ty. Love is such a strong word.

  Eileen tilts her head toward him. She has to be bold now and ask him the question she has been pondering since she broke up with him. “Are you saying you love me?” she asks, finding her strong voice because she knows he didn’t love her the way she loved him.

  It takes a moment for him to answer. “Well, yeah, Eileen, I still do. Just because two people aren’t together doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings still, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  But he isn’t acting like the Mario she was once in love with. He’s acting distant as though he’s a stranger to her now. Did he forget how close they once were?

  “Mario, you don’t have to say it because you think it’s the right thing to say.”

  “I’m not.” His coffee-colored eyes find hers.

  She swallows hard, caught in a cloud of emotions. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “I’ve been in therapy,” he admits. His head bounces slightly as though ashamed. “The doctor told me that one of the things I need to do is ask for forgiveness from the people I love.”

  “Oh,” she says, trying to understand. “Really? Therapy? Why?”

  “You know . . . I’ve had some personal issues over the years, trying to accept myself... been in conflict with a lot of people all the time. It’s not healthy,” he says, staring out at the water, unable to look at her now. “I’ve come to the realization that my life won’t change itself. It will take work to fix it.”

  “What made you decide to deal with the issues?” she asks again, still trying to understand his point of why he needed to fly from Pittsburgh to Vancouver to ask her for forgiveness. “You flew out this way to see me?”

  “Yes.” He finishes the last of his drink, gives his cup a shake, and then tries sipping for another drop. “My girlfriend, Brandy. She’s the reason for my therapy.”

  Eileen nods her head. “You’re still with her?”

  “Yes, we’re engaged.”

  Eileen’s eyes widen.