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The Sweetest Seduction, Breakaway Hearts

Page 18

by Crista McHugh


  Sucker.

  She made a show of writing it down on her pad. “Anything to drink?” Because he sure was going to need something after tasting the special.

  “What do you have on tap?”

  She gritted her teeth. This conversation couldn’t end fast enough. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Something local.”

  She rolled her eyes and rattled off the different microbrews they had on tap. Knowing her luck, he’d probably choose something generic like a Labatt or a Bud Light.

  But when she finished, he said, “I’ll go with the Old Yale Pale Ale.”

  Hailey jotted that down and returned to the bar to pour his glass. Her revenge on Ben Kelly started tonight, and hopefully, when the night was over, she’d never have to see him again. She dropped the beer off at his table without saying a word and went back to the kitchen to heat up a slice of Cindy’s meatloaf.

  At first glance, the slab of meat looked quite good—thick and juicy and perfectly browned, nestled next to a mound of fluffy mashed potatoes and steamed green beans. But it was Cindy’s secret spices that turned plain ground beef into a raging inferno on the tongue. Lumberjacks had wept after tasting it. Ben shouldn’t be any different.

  Her father’s eyes widened when she came out of the kitchen carrying the plate. A couple of the locals elbowed each other and snickered. They all knew what was about to happen.

  “Here you go.” She set the plate down in front of him and tried to keep a straight face. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  She dashed back to the bar and stood next to her father. Everyone in the bar stared at Ben’s booth, waiting for the moment when he took that first bite.

  Oblivious to the spectacle he was becoming, Ben cut off a chunk of the meatloaf, speared it with his fork, and brought it to his mouth. Five seconds later, a hoarse cough filled the room, followed by boisterous laughter. Another person had fallen victim to Cindy’s meatloaf.

  Her father stopped long enough to toss her a few packets of saltines. “Give him some of these to ease his pain.”

  She approached the table slowly while Ben guzzled dry the pint of beer she’d given him earlier. “Here, try these.”

  He took the crackers from her and ripped open the cellophane like a starving man, stuffing the saltines in his mouth. His cheeks were flushed, and the sound of constant sniffling broke up the munching sounds. After he’d eaten the last one, he took a deep breath. “Is there a reason why you don’t seem to like me?”

  “Several.”

  “And that gives you reason to prank me like this?”

  The grin fell from her face. “Everyone in town knows about Cindy’s meatloaf. You were just gullible enough to try it.”

  “So this is more of a locals versus outsiders thing?”

  “Nope.” She leaned on the table and spoke so only he could hear her. “Listen, even though you’re trying to lay low with this new look, I know who you are.”

  He leveled his eyes with hers, refusing to look away. “And?”

  Now was her chance to tell him everything, to publicly humiliate him in front of the whole bar. But when he covered her hand with his, a storm of emotions erupted inside her, and her tongue refused to work. She’d never revealed the name of Zach’s father to anyone, not even her dad. At first, it was because she didn’t know more than his first name. Then, when she’d finally realized the starting goalie for the Vancouver Whales was the same man she’d had a wild one-night stand with, she doubted anyone would believe her. And after she’d gotten the letter from the team’s public relations manager stating that Ben had denied ever knowing her, she’d decided it wasn’t worth it.

  But now she had him. Now he was at her mercy, and she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Zach.

  Worse, she couldn’t look away from him. Fire raced up her arm from where he held her hand, warming her blood and reviving the same rush of desire she’d felt nine years ago. And the longer she stared into those steely blue eyes, the stronger the memories of that one night grew.

  God help her, she was still attracted to him, even after all the shit he’d put her through.

  Hailey jerked her hand back and lowered her eyes. “Listen, just stay the hell away from me, got it?”

  She didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she retreated back to the bar and poured another pale ale. “Pop, can you take this to twelve? I need a minute.”

  Her father gave her a questioning look, but took the glass to Ben’s table and dropped it off as she cut through the kitchen and went out the back door. The cool night air soothed her raw nerves and cleared her mind. She gulped it in and wrapped her arms around her midsection. For nine years, she’d imagined hundreds of things she would say if she ever ran into Ben again, and tonight, none of them had come out. But at least she’d made it very clear she didn’t want him around.

  When she came back in, he was rising from his table. A stack of bills sat on the edge, no doubt a smaller tip than the one he’d given Cindy. She waited until he slipped out the door before collecting it.

  A slip of paper sat on top of the money. It was worn and yellowed, the creases held together by tape in some places. The ink had faded, but she still recognized her own handwriting.

  It was the same note she’d left in Ben’s hotel room that night.

  She closed her hand around the note and dashed out the front door after him. Most of the local business had closed, and the streets were nearly deserted at this hour. The streetlights cast cones of light on the sidewalks below. She looked to the right, then the left, searching for the man she needed answers from.

  Several heartbeats later, she spied a solitary figure climbing into a Land Rover. Hailey ran toward him and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. She didn’t care that he had a cane in his hand that could probably leave her battered and bruised if he chose to use it. She held up the note. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  He searched her face for a moment as though he were worried he’d made a mistake. Then he pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his own.

  At first, she was too shocked to move. She stood there in his arms, paralyzed as he kissed her. When her arms decided to move, they betrayed her. Instead of pushing him away, they wrapped around his neck. Her mouth opened and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

  Dear God, he was even better than she remembered. The warmth she’d felt earlier from his touch was a mere candle to the raging inferno that blazed through her now. She pressed her body against the hard planes of his chest, his abs, his shoulders. She followed his tongue in a seductive entreaty that made her forget about the pain of the last nine years. It was as if time had reversed, and they were back in that elevator on their way to his hotel room.

  And if she had to do it all over again, she doubted she would say no.

  He pulled away, heat simmering in his eyes. “I thought that was you.”

  She stumbled back, gasping for air. What the hell had just happened?

  “See you around, Hailey.” He climbed into his SUV and drove off, leaving her stunned in the middle of the street.

  She had no idea how much time had passed, but when she looked down, she still had the note in her hand and no more answers than what she’d started with.

  “Is everything okay?” her dad asked when she returned to the Sin Bin. “He didn’t short us on the bill, did he?”

  She shook her head. She had no idea how much he’d left, but it had seemed like more than enough to cover two beers and the special. “Pop, do you think you’ll need me to help close up for the night?”

  His face hardened. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

  “Maybe.” She folded the note, taking care with the fragile creases, and tucked it into her pocket. “I just need to go home and check something.”

  The corners of his mouth tilted down, but he went back to drying the clean glasses. “Don’t make a habit of this.”

  “I won’t
.” She grabbed her things from the office and drove to the small trailer on the edge of her dad’s property that served as her home. He’d given it to her when Zach had gotten old enough to need his own room. There wasn’t an inch of it that didn’t remind her of her son, and yet she refused to move.

  She went straight for her bedroom and pulled a box out from under her bed. Inside was a scrapbook she’d made, cataloging every event in her son’s brief life. She pulled it out without opening it, looking for the stack of letters she’d received from the Vancouver Whales.

  When she’d first realized who Ben was, she tried reaching out to him, saying she wanted to talk. She got no answer. When Zach got sick, she’d tried a more desperate approach, trying to let him know about his son before it was too late. That’s when she had gotten the letter from their PR manager, claiming that Ben denied ever knowing her.

  She unfolded the letter Ben had left on the table tonight and laid it on the bed next to the letter that said he didn’t know her. Her gaze went from one to the other, reading each word carefully.

  If Ben had told his PR manager he didn’t know her, then why had he kept her letter all these years?

  Chapter Five

  Ben threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight that streamed through his window. That was the problem with summers in BC—the sun was up at an ungodly hour. It didn’t help that every time he closed his eyes, he dreamed of a woman with sexier-than-sin dimples lying underneath him. Sometimes her hair was blue, sometimes blond. It didn’t matter. All he knew was that he was hornier than a teenage virgin looking to get laid before graduation.

  Nine years had passed since he’d first met Hailey, and nothing had doused the heat between them. That kiss last night was proof. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to invite her back to his place and recreate that one night between them. The only thing that had held him back was the change in her demeanor.

  She obviously hated him, and he had no idea why.

  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t discover the reason. He had time to kill here in Cascade, and he’d been given a second chance with the one woman he could never forget. Maybe if he was persistent, he’d get lucky in more than one way.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and tested his knee before standing. The doc had cleared him to start skating again, but caution still held him back. It was all mental—he freely admitted that. Even as he stood and put all his weight on it, he only felt the slightest twinge. But the idea of getting back on the ice—of falling to block a puck only to get slammed by another player and have his knee ripped apart again—set his heart thumping faster than a set of speed-skating drills.

  He reached for the reassuring comfort of his cane. As long as he carried it, no one pressured him to return to the team.

  An hour later, he’d completed the reps of exercises his physical therapist back in Vancouver had given him to do. The muscles still fatigued quickly, but every day, they grew stronger. And every day, he came closer to making a decision he would’ve liked to put off indefinitely.

  Would he return to the team next season?

  He wiped the sweat from his face and pondered that question, still unable to come up with an answer. All he knew was that the ice still called to him, whether he liked it or not.

  Only now he knew the ice would be occupied by one player whose love of the game surpassed his own.

  After a shower and breakfast, he found himself back at the ice rink. He came in through the back door and waited in the shadows like before. And just as he’d expected, Hailey was on the ice.

  Today, she was alone. No high school kids to beat up. No grumpy Gus yelling at his boys to keep up with her. Just a line of pucks along the blue line and a cardboard cutout of a goalie standing in front of the net.

  Hailey launched a slap shot at the goal. It hit the cutout in the crotch, knocking it over.

  Ben reflexively covered his own crotch and winced. No man liked watching a nut shot, even if it was on an inanimate object.

  It did little to comfort him when he realized the cutout was of him. “Do you really hate me that much?” he asked after she reset it.

  She spun around on her skates, her eyes wide. A heartbeat later, her face hardened, and she went back to the line of pucks. “The rink’s closed, Kelly.”

  “The back door was unlocked.”

  “Not for you.” She snapped her stick back and sent a zinger of a top shelf shot. It blasted past the cutout’s shoulder into the net. The next shot slid through the five-hole, followed by a bar down shot that narrowly missed the cutout’s head.

  He let out a low whistle as she fired off shot after shot with deadly accuracy. “You’re quite a sniper, even if you aren’t playing against a real goalie.”

  She sprinted toward him, stopping just before she crashed into the wall. “Why don’t you come out here and give me a real challenge?”

  “Can’t.” He tapped his cane on his bad leg.

  “Bullshit.” She pushed back from the wall, her eyes holding his in a challenge. “You’re just scared to face me.”

  He was scared, all right, especially after seeing how she’d abused his likeness.

  “I meant what I said last night. Leave me alone.”

  “And what if I don’t want to?” He purposely exaggerated his limp as he came down the stairs.

  “Damn it, Ben.” She threw her stick on the ice and shed her gloves like she was getting ready to beat the shit out of him. “What do you want from me?”

  He refused to be drawn in by her ire. Growing up with six brothers had taught him that the best way to avoid a fight was to stay calm and well out of fist range. He coolly assessed her from several steps up, trying to find a way to disarm her before she blew up. He kept his voice quiet and soothing as he replied, “A second chance.”

  Her mouth parted like he’d just kneed her in the gut, followed by a flash of pain in her eyes. She sucked in a shaky breath. “And why should I give you one?”

  “I’m having a hard time trying to figure out why you’re so hostile toward me.” He closed the space between them one step at a time. “After all, you were the one who left me without so much as a good-bye.”

  “I left you a note.”

  “Yes, and I kept it for nine years.” He reached out, his mouth going dry as he took her hand. It was strong and warm, the calluses on the palm speaking of the hours she devoted to the sport. And it felt absolutely perfect in his.

  She stared down at their hands, her anger fading just as it had the night before. No matter how much bluster she surrounded herself with, she couldn’t hide the physical connection between them. He’d witnessed it last night when he’d kissed her, and he had proof of it now. It gave him the courage to continue. “I have no intention of wasting this opportunity, Hailey. We had something special that night, and I want to know if there could be more.”

  She yanked her hand back, a cold shell encasing her as she drifted backward, her eyes fixed on the ice. “No, I can’t afford any distractions, especially from you.”

  “Why?”

  Her blue eyes flashed, and the seething hatred reappeared. “Listen, if you’re looking for a quick fuck, I’m sure the great Ben Kelly should have no trouble finding plenty of bimbos up at the resort to satisfy his needs.”

  “I never said I wanted a quick fuck.” He fought to keep his voice low and steady, even though he was inwardly panicking. He’d waited years to have a second chance with her, and it was somehow slipping from his grasp. “I was thinking more along the lines of taking things slowly, getting to know you better.”

  “Yeah, well your kiss last night suggests otherwise.”

  “And if I remember correctly, you were kissing me back.”

  Two blotches of red appeared on her cheeks, but he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. She turned around and went back to her line of pucks. “It’s not happening, Kelly,” she said before firing another missile into the net.

  He wanted to run
out there on the ice and kiss her until she agreed to give him a second chance, but the wall wasn’t the only thing holding him back. “Not even dinner?”

  “Nope.”

  Time for a new tactic. “What would I have to do to convince you otherwise?”

  She paused, her stick suspended in the air, ready to deliver another slap shot. Then she lowered it and slowly skated back to him. Her lips pressed together in a line of defiance, but her eyes flickered over him with a hint of curiosity. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

  Hope warmed his blood. He was finally making progress with her. “I’ve waited nine years. What’s a few more days?”

  The corner of her mouth rose into the sly grin that carved the dimple into her left cheek. “Very well. I’ll go out to dinner with you after you successfully block a shot from me.”

  She held his gaze while she returned to the blue line, her grin widening into that second dimple. Then, as if to prove her point, she took another shot at the cutout. The puck sailed just above the catcher’s mitt.

  Ben grimaced and glanced down at the ice as though it were an alligator-infested swamp. He definitely had his work cut out for him if he wanted to accept her offer.

  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to win her over in other ways.

  He forced a smile on his face and waved. “See you around, Hailey.”

  Chapter Six

  Hailey hopped off the Zamboni and grabbed her gear. Her legs wobbled like rubber from running miles of skating drills, but the ache had faded once she got the blood moving again. It had been a good practice session.

  Even better, Ben Kelly hadn’t shown up to distract her today. She’d guessed right—he was afraid to step foot on the ice again. His limp had disappeared completely when he’d come down those final stairs to stop her yesterday. He was hiding behind his injury, and she doubted he would overcome his fear to accept her ultimatum. Hopefully, he’d take no for an answer this time and leave town.

  A pang of sorrow pierced her chest, though, as she thought of him leaving. He had sounded so earnest, so sincere about wanting a second chance that she’d almost believed him.

 

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