“Fine, I’ll work with the kids, but get here as fast as you can. They’re getting antsy.” Gus hung up, and Ben drew her back into his arms.
“He sounded pissed,” he said while he continued to plant tiny kisses along her neck.
“He was.” She turned around to give Ben a quick peck before slipping free from him. “He has a rink full of novice players who are waiting for me to run them through their drills.”
“Need a little help?”
For the second time in as many minutes, he’d rendered her speechless. “You’re offering to help?”
He nodded. “I may not be much in front of the goal, but I remember some things from playing days. And if all else fails, I can offer to sign a few autographs.”
“Oh, I forgot, you’re Mr. NHL superstar,” she said with a laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re enjoying the ice again.”
A grimace crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything as he reached for his jeans.
But he was right about her not being able to play in the dress she’d borrowed from Jen for dinner. “I’ll run home, change, and meet you at the rink.”
She ran out the door before he offered to give her a ride. It was one thing to be sleeping with him. It was another thing if the whole town knew about it. Right now, discretion was her friend, especially while she was still working up the courage to tell him about Zach.
When she drove into the rink’s parking lot, he was waiting for her by the back door with just his skates.
“What? No pads today?” she asked as she grabbed her own gear from the back of the Jeep.
He shook his head. “No, I’m still not a hundred percent.”
“You looked great yesterday.”
“I only went out there yesterday because I wanted a date with you. My knee’s not ready to block shots all morning.” The muscles along his jaw tightened as he went into the barn, and her heart sank. He was still hiding behind his injury.
Hailey laced her skates up in record time and got on the ice with the group of eager seven- to nine-year-olds, but as soon as Gus saw Ben behind her, he said, “Hey, kids, look who Hailey brought with her—Ben Kelly!”
The kids erupted in a cheer and swarmed Ben. His eyes widened in sheer terror, and he gripped the boards as though they were all aiming to take him out. A few crashed into the wall around him, but none hit him. Their high-pitched voices fired off questions faster than a blue line of pucks during a shooting drill.
Can you play with us?
Do you know such-and-such?
Can I have your autograph?
Are you coming back next season?
Ben could barely utter a word before he was bombarded by the next question, but when one of the kids asked about his return, his face paled, and he tripped over his words.
Time for her to rescue him. “Okay, players, that’s enough. You can talk to Mr. Kelly after practice.”
Their grins were priceless as they skated back out to the center of the rink. So like Zach’s grin when he’d met Patrick, one of the Whales players. Did Ben have any idea what his mere presence meant to these kids?
She started them on a series of passing drills and went to check on him. “Sorry about Gus.”
He continued to slowly tie his skates. “It was bound to happen. Besides, I offered to come.”
“I hope they didn’t overwhelm you.”
He shook his head, then paused. “Well, maybe a little. Kids scare me. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always turned down one of my teammate’s invitations to join him at the children’s hospital.”
A sharp pain stabbed her heart, bringing tears to her eyes. What if he’d accepted that invitation, just once? Would he have met Zach? “You don’t have to stay, you know, especially since kids aren’t your thing.”
She started to skate away, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the boards. “I don’t mean it that way.”
“Then what did you mean when you said kids scare you?”
“They do. They’re so small and hyper and in your face, and I’m scared I’ll stumble over one of them and hurt them.”
“They’re children, not Chihuahuas.”
“Hailey.” He said her name like an apologetic plea and curled her hand up against his chest. “I said something that upset you, didn’t I?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because you look like you’re wavering between slapping me and crying.”
She blinked back her tears. He was beginning to read her too well. But one thing was certain—she couldn’t tell him about Zach right now. He probably would thank his lucky stars that he’d dodged a bullet.
“I have to get back to the lessons, Ben. It’s bad enough I was late. I don’t need to focus all my attention on you when I’m supposed to be here for them.” She unwound her hand from his and went back to the kids, completely ignoring him for the rest of the hour.
But when the lesson ended, Ben was still there. Only instead of hiding in the seats like she’d thought he would, he was out on the ice talking to the three kids who played goalie. He stood behind one of them, saying something quietly as he showed the kid how to use the stick and trapper to block the five-spot. The kid dropped to his knees in a modified butterfly and earned a high five from Ben when he got back up. His grin mirrored the kid’s, and the dark cloud that had hovered over her during practice started to lift.
The other kids skated over to him, but this time, he didn’t panic. He answered their questions with the same reserved manner he gave the press, moving closer to the edge of rink with each response. When he reached the seats, the parents swooped in, some of them supplying Ben with Sharpies to sign autographs. A good fifteen minutes passed before she finally had him alone.
She locked the front door as the last player left. “I guess you won’t be able to hide here much longer.”
“It was bound to happen.” He pulled off a skate and stared at it. “You know, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Meaning?” she asked as she started removing her pads.
“Don’t get me wrong—kids still scare me. But in small numbers, they aren’t too bad.”
“Says the man who grew up with six brothers.”
He chuckled and untied the other skate. “I might actually want a kid or two one day. Not anytime soon, but one day.”
And just like that, her mood sank again. What if you found out you already had one?
She stuffed her gear into her bag. “I’ve got to go to work. Playoff games mean the bar will be packed.”
“Wait.” He pulled her into a kiss just as Gus fired up the Zamboni. “Want to come over again tonight?”
Her mind hesitated. As much as she wanted to spend another night in his arms, she still needed to come to terms with telling him about Zach. Everything she’d witnessed this morning told her Ben wasn’t ready for that bomb to be dropped on him. “We’ll see how I feel after my shift.”
“I’ll stay up for you.”
Hailey threw her gear into the back of her Jeep and started the engine, but her mind was still replaying what Ben had said. Not anytime soon, but one day.
Maybe she just needed to give him more time. When she knew he was ready to learn about his son, she’d tell him. But for now, she needed to wait.
****
Ben stretched out on the couch with a beer and turned on the TV. Hailey had called ten minutes ago to tell him she was coming over, and he couldn’t wait to see her again, if only to pry into her actions at the ice rink this morning. She was such a contradiction. One minute, he finally felt like he’d broken down her walls, and the next, she was back to wearing that pained expression that threatened to squeeze every drop of joy from his heart.
He wanted her to open up to him. He wanted to know what he’d said or done to hurt her so he wouldn’t do it again. But she refused to tell him. Instead, she ran away, using her job as an excuse.
He’d watched her with the kids today. She
was a natural coach, and it was obvious they all adored her. She was the kind of woman who would make a good mother someday. And as much as it surprised him, he wanted to be the man she chose as the father of her children. Once he’d acknowledged that, he’d forced himself to overcome his own fear of kids.
He flipped through the channels until he came to the sports station, where they were recapping the day’s playoff games. The highlights kept zooming in on a Boston player as he went in to block a shot and got hit with a puck. The expression of agony on his face slammed into Ben’s gut and made him forget about Hailey. Over and over again, they showed him getting hit, his eyes squeezing shut in pain, his mouth open in a silent scream.
Ben’s heart hammered as they showed the player skating off the ice, favoring his leg. Then the screen panned back to the reporters behind the desk as they continued to discuss the injury. He caught the words “broken leg,” and the ache in his knee flared to life.
His mind screamed at him to turn the channel as they continued to talk about some of the other significant injuries this season, but he couldn’t turn his eyes away. He stared into his own face on the screen. His breath caught when he realized what they were about to show. Time seemed to slow down as they replayed that night from three months ago. He was standing in front of the goal, bracing for impact as the other player sped toward him. He raised his stick and gloves to try to diffuse some of the impact. The mucker’s stick hooked his skate, yanking it forward. The same look of agony flickered across his own face a split second before the player ran into him.
Ben’s gut curled into knots, and sweat beaded along his forehead. He remembered very little about that night other than what he’d been told. He’d seen a picture of the collision, but never the actual footage. And now, it was like he was living it all over again. His muscles locked. Pain exploded from his knee and ran throughout his entire leg. His vision blurred in a haze of colors. Somewhere in the distance, he heard someone calling his name, but his lips refused to work.
Why me? What could I have done differently? What could I have done to prevent this? Will I ever be able to come back?
Those were the same questions he’d asked over and over again during the days that had followed his injury. And just like before, he had no answers.
A pair of cool hands touched his cheeks, and a shadow moved in front of the screen. “Ben, look at me.”
As his vision came into focus, he found Hailey standing beside him. A shudder rose inside his throat. He clamped his mouth closed to keep it from escaping.
She pried the remote from his hands and turned the TV off before pulling him into her arms and pressing his ear against her chest. Her heart was beating at the same dizzying pace as his own. “Was that the first time you saw what happened?”
All he could do was nod.
“I’m sorry.” She ran her fingers through his hair, each stroke thawing the icy fear that held him prisoner. “I know it came as a shock to you.”
“I can’t,” he finally managed to whisper. “I can’t go out there again.”
“Bullshit.” She lifted his chin and gave him a stern glare that would’ve made Mac proud. “One injury is not going to destroy your career, Ben.”
He pushed her back and stood, his leg screaming from the slightest twinge. “Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one who had your knee destroyed.”
“No, but I know what’s like to have my dreams stolen from me in a matter of seconds. Unlike you, I wasn’t afraid to get back out there and keep trying.”
A new emotion burned through him and replaced his terror—shame. “Damn it, Hailey, don’t compare me to you.”
“I’m not. But I know you’re hiding behind your injury.”
His knee popped and clicked when he put weight on it, halting his steps as he tried to leave the room. “I blew out my knee, Hailey. It’s never going to be like it was before.”
“And yet your knee was just fine when you blocked my shot yesterday and when you fucked me in the shower last night.” She blocked his escape and pointed to his injured leg. “I’ve been watching you since you came back into my life. You only limp when someone challenges you to get back out on the ice. Otherwise, your knee is as good as it was three months ago.”
The room felt like it was closing in on him. Her accusations dogged him, suffocating him until he could no longer fight them off. “What do you want me to say, Hailey? That I’m terrified to go out there again? That I live in fear that next time, they won’t be able to put me back together again?”
“Yes, because once you acknowledge your fear, you can begin to face it.” She took his hands in her own.
A rush of calm peace flowed into him from her touch, and he took his first deep breath since seeing the replay. “And how do I face it?”
“One day at a time.”
His voice cracked under the weight of his uncertainty. Was it really so simple? Would he ever be able to go back out on the ice and not be paralyzed with fear the moment he saw a player careening toward him? “And what if I never get over it?”
“You will,” she said with such certainty that he almost believed her. She pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. “You love this game too much not to.”
He pressed his forehead against hers, his defenses weakening. “And if I never go back to playing?”
“Then that will be your decision, but I don’t want you to make it because you’re scared. If you decide to retire, do it only after giving the game one more try.”
A shimmer of hope broke through his doubts and warmed his frozen blood. “If you think I can…”
“I know you can, Ben. And I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”
She kissed him again, this time luring him out of the darkness of his own mind. He lost himself in the comfort of her arms, in the passion this beautiful woman could inspire in him. He’d been more than just physically broken, and yet she was willing to help heal him in every way that mattered. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” she replied before covering his mouth with her own.
This kiss was more raw and hungry than the prior ones, reviving his desire for her until he could think of nothing else. His cock stiffened, and he steered her to the bedroom. “We can talk about this in the morning.”
“Indeed.” She pulled his shirt over his head and wrapped her arms around him. “Right now, I want to prove to you that I want you, no matter what you decide.”
He grinned and lifted her onto the bed, the ache vanishing from his knee. “Then by all means, please do.”
Chapter Thirteen
A puck sailed through the air, flying toward the space above Ben’s shoulder. He snapped his glove up and snatched it before it hit the net, and a grin formed behind his mask. “That’s eight,” he teased.
Hailey banged her stick against the ice. “If I’d known you’d be this good this quickly, I’d have never made that bet with you.”
He tipped his mask back and skated toward her. Three weeks had passed since he’d first blocked her shot and taken her to dinner, and now she was in his bed almost every night. He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer for a kiss. “Why did you make that bet with me?”
“I thought it was obvious. You love the ice, Ben. You love the game. All I had to do was give you that final push to get you back out there.”
“And for that, I thank you.” As his lips covered hers, he thought about how much she’d come to mean to him. She was no longer the girl who’d given him the best night of his life, although the sex was still mind-blowing. She was a woman who calmed him when he was frustrated with his knee, who comforted his aching muscles with massages that usually ended with him lying naked beside her, who challenged him to improve both on and off the ice every day.
And yet every once and a while, he’d sense she was pulling back, just like she was now. She broke off the kiss and skated toward the fallen puck, leaving a chill in her
wake. “What’s wrong?”
“Who said anything is wrong?”
He intercepted her. “I think I know you well enough by now to know when you’re keeping something from me.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Remember, I want to know what you’re feeling—the good and the bad.”
She shrugged him off and slid the puck back and forth with her stick, her back to him. “You’re almost back to playing condition. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before you go back to Vancouver and leave me here.”
Now she was the one who feared being abandoned. “I meant what I said about not wanting to let you go. When I go back to Vancouver, I want you to come with me.”
Her shoulders tensed, and the puck stilled. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can.” He closed the gap between them and turned her around, but she didn’t raise her eyes to meet his. “Why not?”
“For starters, I need to keep training.”
“Who’s to say you can’t train in Vancouver? I’m sure I can arrange for you to get as much ice time as you need.”
“But who will take my shifts at the Sin Bin? Pop needs me.”
“I’m sure he can hire someone to wait tables.” He lifted her chin so she was forced to look at him, and he saw it in her eyes again—the same mix of grief, guilt, and fear she’d had that night in the shower. “What’s the real reason you won’t come back with me?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t afford any distractions right now, Ben.”
“And that’s what I am to you? A distraction?”
“No.” But that didn’t stop her from adding some space between them. “But as I’ve been telling you, this is my last shot at the Olympics, and I need to stay focused. I can’t be worried about telling Pop I’m quitting or packing up my stuff to move to Vancouver. Maybe once the National team has been named, we can talk about this, but I just can’t right now.”
His jaw tightened as she skated away. Her points were all valid, but he couldn’t shake the suspicion there was something more that she was hiding from him. “Fine, I can wait.”
The Sweetest Seduction, Breakaway Hearts Page 25