by Joss Wood
There had to be another way. There was always another way. They just hadn’t thought about it yet.
“Would it be such a bad idea to let this corporation buy the Mavericks?” she abruptly asked Kade.
Kade considered his response. “It would definitely be different. They have a history of clearing the deck and changing all the management, the leadership. That would mean Quinn, Mac and I would be figuratively on the streets.”
“Other teams would snap you up,” Rory argued.
Kade nodded as he stopped at a traffic light. “Sure, but we wouldn’t be on the same team. We’ve been together for nearly fifteen years, Rory. We fight and argue and irritate each other to death but we know each other. We trust each other.”
“There’s that damn word again,” Rory muttered.
“One you seem to have a problem with,” Kade observed, sending her a smile. He really was a very good-looking man, Rory noticed. Not Mac hot, but still...phew!
“Am I being unreasonable?” she demanded, slapping her hand repeatedly against the dashboard. “The man has been injured! It was serious. I’m trying to protect him.”
“Yeah. And he’s asking you to trust him to know what he’s doing,” Kade responded, gently removing her hand from his dashboard and dropping it back into her lap. “It’s too expensive a car to be used as a punching bag, honey.”
Rory winced. “Sorry.” She shoved her hands under her thighs to keep them from touching something she shouldn’t and sighed heavily. “He makes me nuts.”
Kade laughed. “I suspect he feels the same way about you.” He tapped his finger against the steering wheel before turning his head to look at her. “Mac never asks anyone for anything.”
Rory looked puzzled, not sure where he was going with this.
“He injured his arm because he tried to move a fridge on his own, something either Quinn or I or any of his teammates, coaching staff, support crew, maintenance guys or office staff would’ve helped him with...had he asked.”
“Try living with him for nearly two months,” Rory muttered, reminded of all the arguments she’d had with Mac. “I think it has something to do with the fact that his mother was emotionally, probably physically, neglectful of him. He learned not to ask because his needs were never met,” she mused.
Kade switched lanes and sent her an astonished look. “He told you about his mother?”
“Not much. A little.” Rory shrugged.
“Holy crap.”
Rory shrugged again, brushing off his astonishment. “Not asking for help is stupid. Everyone needs someone at some time in their lives.”
“I agree. I’ve been trying to tell him that for years,” Kade said, turning into her street. He pulled up behind a battered pickup and switched off the growling engine. Pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, he half turned in his seat. “So, we agree that we are talking about a man who is ridiculously independent and stupidly self-sufficient and hates asking for a damn thing?”
“Precisely,” Rory agreed, reaching for her bag, which sat on the floor by her feet. She dug around for her house keys and pulled out the bunch with a flourish. “Found them! Yay.”
Kade’s hand on her arm stopped her exit from the car. When she looked back at him, his expression was serious. “Interesting then that our self-sufficient, hate-to-ask-for-anything friend asked you to be there at the practice game, asked you to trust him. Practically begged you...”
Rory sucked in a breath and scowled at him. “Oh, you’re good,” she muttered as she stepped out of the car.
“So I’m frequently told,” Kade smugly replied. Rory shook her head as she climbed out of the low seat, charmed and amused despite the fact that he’d backed her into a corner. She turned back to look at him and he grinned at her through her open window. “Frequently followed by...can we do that again?”
Rory slapped a hand across her eyes.
“I’ll leave your name with security. Day after tomorrow. Four p.m.”
Rory managed, using an enormous amount of self-control, not to kick his very expensive tires as he pulled away.
* * *
Mac couldn’t help glancing around the empty arena as he hit the rink, as at home on the ice as he was on his own two feet. Stupid to hope that she’d be here. Intensely stupid to feel disappointed. There was nothing between them except some hot sex and a couple of conversations.
He was happy the way he was, happy to have the odd affair with a beautiful woman, happy with his lone-wolf lifestyle. Wasn’t he?
Not so much.
Mac glanced at the empty seats and banged his stick on the ice in frustration. One thing. He’d asked her one damn thing and she’d refused. Talk about history repeating itself... It served him right for putting himself out there. He’d learned the lesson hard and he’d learned the lesson well that when it came to personal relationships, when he asked, he didn’t always receive. With his mother he’d never received anything he needed.
His childhood was over, he reminded himself.
Besides, it didn’t matter, he had an investor to impress, a team to save, Vernon’s legacy to protect. Mac glanced over toward the coach’s area and immediately saw Quinn and Kade standing, like two mammoth sentries, on either side of a slim woman and an elderly man who bore a vague resemblance to Yoda. The woman wore jeans and a felt hat and the older man was dressed in corduroy pants and a parka. These were their investors? Where were the suits, the heels, the briefcases?
Hope you have what we need, old man, Mac thought, as the rest of the team followed him onto the ice. Hellfire, his arm was already throbbing and he’d yet to smack a puck.
Maybe Rory was right and playing wasn’t such a great idea. He swung his injured arm and only sheer force of will kept him from grimacing. The team physio had strapped his arm to give it extra support but the straps were misaligned and, he was afraid, doing more harm than good.
Crapdammithell!
“McCaskill!”
Mac spun on his skates and there she stood, a resigned look on her face. His heart bumped and settled as he skated toward her. She stood next to a large man who looked familiar, and it took Mac a minute to place him. His nurse from The Annex...what was his name? Troy? Unlike Rory, Troy was wearing a huge smile and his gaze bounced from player to player in the manner of a true fan.
Mac stopped at the boards in front of Rory and sent her a slow smile. Damn, he’d missed her.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, wishing he could take her into his arms, kiss her senseless. He wanted, just for a moment, to step out of these skates, out of the arena and into the heat of her mouth, to feel her pliant, slim, sexy body beneath his hands. Huh. That had never happened before. Skating, hockey, the ice...nothing could normally top that.
Mac looked at Rory, arms folded across her chest, her expression disapproving. That didn’t worry him; he’d learned to look for the emotion in her eyes. Those gray depths told him everything he needed to know about how she was feeling. Yeah, she was worried, but resigned. A little scared, but he could see that she was trying to trust him, trying to push aside her intellect to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Rory narrowed her amazing eyes at him. “I’m not for one moment condoning this, and if you do any more damage I will personally kick your ass.”
Deeply moved—he understood how hard this was for her—he sent her a crooked grin, silently thanking her for taking this chance on him, on them.
Rory, stubborn as always, tried to look stern but her eyes lightened with self-deprecating humor. And, as always, there was a hint of desire. For the first time, he easily recognized tenderness in her steady gaze.
And concern. She was so damned worried about him. When last had someone cared this much? Never? Mac felt his heart thump, unaccustomed to feeling saturated with emotion.
“N
oted,” Mac gruffly said, needing a moment to regroup. Or ten. Pulling in a deep breath he pulled off his glove with his teeth and held out his hand for Troy to shake. “Good to see you.”
Troy pumped his hand with an enthusiasm that had Mac holding back a wince. “You play?” he asked Troy.
Troy nodded. “College.”
“When we’re finished with the practice match, maybe you’d like to borrow some skates and join us on the ice?” Mac asked.
Troy looked delighted. “Awesome. My gear is in the car so I don’t need to borrow a thing. Wow. Awe. Some.”
Rory rolled her eyes and looked at Mac again. “You okay?”
“Pretty much. Better now that you are here.” Mac looked over the ice to the other side of the rink, where Kade and Quinn were still in deep conversation with the investor. Quinn didn’t look like he was about to call the team to order anytime soon. “Speaking of, can I borrow you for a sec?”
Rory nodded and he pushed open the hinge board and stepped off the ice. He sat on a chair and looked up at Troy. “It’s great that you are so damn big, dude.”
Troy grinned and made a production of fluttering his eyes at him. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Cut it out, Troy,” Rory muttered.
Mac laughed and jerked his thumb toward Rory. “She’s more my type. But I do need you to stand in front of me so Quinn and Kade, and especially that small old guy, can’t see me.”
Troy, smart guy, immediately moved into position. “Like this?”
“That works.” Mac pulled off his jersey and leaned down and grabbed Rory’s bag, holding it out to her. “I need you to re-tape my arm. The team physio did it but he’s done something wrong, it’s hurting like a bitch.”
Rory looked like she was about to say “I told you so,” and he appreciated her effort to swallow the words. While he ripped the stabilizing tape off his arm with his other hand, taking quite a bit of arm hair with it, Rory pulled out another roll of tape. He groaned when he saw that it was bright pink. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Consider it my silent protest,” Rory said, a smile touching her mouth. She was still worried about him. He could see it in her eyes, in her tight smile. But she cut the tape into strips and carefully ran the tape over his biceps and elbow, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“Quinn’s getting ready to move,” Troy told them.
“Nearly there,” Rory muttered, smoothing the end of the last piece of tape across the other two. She nodded. “That should give you more support, especially when you extend.”
Mac did a biceps curl and he sighed with relief. He took the jersey Rory held out to him and pulled it over his head. When he was dressed, he stood up and dropped a hot, openmouthed kiss on her lips. “You are brilliant.”
“Do not hurt yourself.”
“Don’t nag.” Mac kissed her again, still in awe that she was here, that she was helping him, standing by him, doing this. She’d shoved aside her training, had placed her trust in him, something she so rarely gave...
Quinn’s impatient whistle broke into his thoughts and his voice drifted across the ice calling them to order. Mac turned back to Rory. “Kade has invited the team and some suits to a cocktail party tonight at Siba’s. You know—the bar in the Forrester Hotel? Meet me there at seven?”
Rory scowled at him but her eyes were soft and still scared. “Maybe, if you’re not back in the hospital.”
Mac grinned at Troy. “Such a sarcastic little ray of sunshine. Thanks for your help. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“She’ll be there,” Troy told him.
“You’ll damn well go,” Mac heard Troy telling Rory as he skated, slowly it had to be said, away from them. “That man is nuts about you.”
He really was, he reluctantly admitted.
* * *
“You are so in love with him,” Troy crowed as he flung his hockey bag into the trunk of his battered SUV. Rory eyed his piece of rusty metal; she hated driving anywhere with Troy because she was quite certain her chances of, well, dying were increased a thousand percent whenever its tires met the road.
Rory, her hand on the passenger-door handle, looked down at the front wheel and sighed her relief. The tires had been changed and Troy had promised her it had just had its biyearly service. Rory had replied that it needed a funeral service but she’d eventually abandoned her idea of taking a taxi to the arena and allowed Troy to drive her in his chariot of death.
Rory tugged at the handle and cursed when it refused to open. Troy, already behind the wheel, reached across and thumped the panel and the door sprung open, just missing hitting Rory in the face. “I hate this car,” she muttered, climbing in.
Troy nodded his head. “Yeah, me too. But it’s paid for, thereby freeing up money for the nursing home.”
Rory, grateful that they’d left the subject of Mac and her feelings, sent him a concerned look. “How is your mom? Any more walkabouts?”
Troy momentarily closed his eyes. “No, she’s fine. Well, as fine as she can be.” He stared at the luxury car parked next to them. “I’ve found a home just outside the city, a place that looks fantastic. They have space for her, could take her tomorrow, but I just can’t afford it.”
“I could...” She had to offer to loan him the money. He wouldn’t take it, but she wished he would. He was her best friend, an almost-brother...why didn’t he realize that she’d move mountains for him if she could?
Troy sighed. “I love you for offering but...no. I can’t.” Troy turned the key and the car spluttered and died. He cursed, cranked it again and Rory held her breath. It rumbled, jerked and eventually put-putted to life. “You wouldn’t think that I’d just had it serviced, would you?”
“Nope. Then again, I think trying to service this car is like putting a Band-Aid on a slit throat.”
“Nice,” Troy said as they pulled out of the arena parking lot. “Let’s get back to the interesting stuff. When did you fall in love with Mac?”
“Ten years ago,” Rory replied without thinking. She jerked up and scowled at her friend. “I didn’t just say that out loud, did I?”
Troy grinned. “You so did.”
“Dammit.” She didn’t want to be in love with Mac. That meant she had to give him up, she’d have to retreat, do what she did best to protect herself and fade away. Loving Mac carried too many risks, too much potential heartache.
“So, are you going to keep Mac around or are you going to dump him when he gets too close?”
Lord, Troy knew her well. She had to make a token protest. “I don’t do that.”
Troy snorted. “Honey, you always do that. You meet a guy, you go on a couple of dates and when you think something might have a chance of developing, you find an excuse to dump him. You have massive trust issues.”
“So does Mac. He also has abandonment issues!” she added.
“It’s not a competition, Rory! Jeez,” Troy snapped as they approached the first set of traffic lights. “Man, these brakes are soft. Didn’t they check them?” They stopped and Troy looked at her. “Okay...continue.”
Rory stared at the drops of rain running down the windshield. She might as well tell him, she thought, he knew everything else about her. “You know how Shay loves to tease me about stealing her boyfriends?”
“Yeah, and you get all huffy and defensive and embarrassed.”
“She was dating Mac when she walked in on us...we were about to kiss,” Rory quietly stated. “How would she feel if I started dating him, started a relationship with him?”
“I bet she’d be fine with it.” Tory rolled his eyes, and without taking his eyes off the road instructed his cell phone to call Shay.
“What are you doing?” Rory demanded.
“Calling Shay,” Troy replied, as if she were the biggest idiot
in the world. Which she was, because she was talking to him about Mac.
“Troyks!” Shay’s bubbly voice filled the car.
“Hey, oh gorgeous one. I’m in the car with Rory and we have a question for you.”
“Shoot,” Shay replied.
“It’s not important—” Rory stated, leaning sideways to talk into the phone.
“Back off, sister.” Troy growled. “Rory’s using you as an excuse not to date Mac McCaskill. So how would you feel about them getting it on? You know, even though you’re married to the hunkiest homicide detective in the city,” Troy added, his tone wry.
“My Mac?” Shay asked.
Her Mac, Rory scowled. And didn’t that just answer her question right away?
Shay was quiet for a minute. “Well, judging from the way they were eyeing each other way back when, I’d say it’s about ten years overdue. A part of me is still slightly jealous that he never looked at me like that.”
Like what? “Nothing happened!” Rory protested.
“Maybe, but you both wanted it to,” Shay responded. “I think he’d be really good for you.”
“He almost cheated on you, with me!” Rory half yelled. Okay, the straws she was grabbing were elusive but she was giving it her best shot.
“He was twenty-four, we were having problems and whenever the two of you were in the same room you created an electrical storm. Besides, as you said, nothing happened. It’s not that big a deal.”
Shay must’ve forgotten that being kissed by Mac was a very big deal.
“Go for it, Rorks.”
Okay, who was this woman and what had she done with Rory’s insecure, neurotic sister? “Are you high?” Rory demanded. “He’s a commitment-phobic man-slut! He changes women like he changes socks!”
“I don’t think that’s true. Not so much and not anymore.” Shay laughed. “I liked Mac. I still like Mac. He was a good egg and he put up with an enormous amount of drama from me. You should date him, Rorks, give this relationship thing a spin. Who knows, you might end up being... I don’t know...happy?”
Troy looked triumphant and Rory placed her hands over her face. “You are high. It’s the only explanation...”