“Mmm hmm. I felt invested, you know? Like I had to watch. For Jasper.”
“I get it.” Kurt had known from day one of Lisette taking care of his brother that she had a heart as big as Lake Pontchartrain. And he’d known by the end of her assignment that going the extra mile wasn’t extra in her mind—it was expected. “That was nice of you.”
“At least, that’s why I started watching.” She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against the edge of his ear. Her warm breath curled in a moment before her words did. “Then I just got hooked.”
“On the bloody teeth flying into the air?” Kurt teased. Because Lisette didn’t strike him as a standard puck bunny. Someone who just got into the game to get under the players’ jerseys. “Or all the body slams into the plexiglass?”
She stayed on tiptoe, so her eyes were even with his. “On you, Kurt. I liked watching you.”
Kurt hadn’t seriously dated anyone in two years. Hadn’t fucked anyone in at least six months. So yeah, he was a little bit off his game. But that? That was flirting. No doubt about it. And he damn well still had game. His hands shot out to clamp at her waist, holding her in place. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
Another big silence filled up all the empty space in the hallway. Sure, he could still hear the clang of weights from behind, the slam of lockers to the left and the stupid music overhead. Management let everyone—players to trainers to accountants—each pick music for a day. From today’s twanging guitars, it was transplanted Tennessean Randy from Payroll’s turn.
But all that background shit didn’t compare to the sound of Lisette looking at him. The almost utter silence. Just the rasp of her silk shirt fluttering up and down against her bra. The soft intake of breath, the slow exhale. The grinding thud as Kurt swallowed hard.
The lack of words focused him completely on the unreadable pools of her eyes beneath the thick sweep of her lashes. The dark, mysterious depths sucked him in like quicksand—only Kurt didn’t want to get free. He wanted to drown in them.
His hands weren’t still anymore. Without conscious thought, he curved his palms down, around her round hips. Hips that would be perfect to hang on to when Lisette sat astride him while he lifted her up and down onto him in a steady rhythm. He could picture it as clearly as he could picture the moment when he first lifted the heavy Cup overhead to the cheers that filled the entire arena.
“Kurt?” She reached up to tease her fingertips along the edge of his stubbled jaw.
“Yeah?” He should kiss her. Lisette gave every sign of wanting to be kissed. So what if the fluorescent lights hummed overhead? And the hallway smelled of IcyHot and sweat, overlaid by the stupid pine air freshener that did nothing? It didn’t have to be a romantic setting for their first kiss. It’d just be a moment. The right moment. All that mattered was how much they wanted each other. Their kiss would be so hot it’d burn away everything else.
After a slow blink, she asked, “Are you doing okay? I mean, it’s almost been a year since Jasper...are you dealing? Sleeping the night through?”
There it was. The reason he’d never tried to get anywhere with Lisette, and probably shouldn’t ever. His fatally ill brother had always been between them, literally and figuratively. Kurt would never have done anything to distract her from caring for Jasper. His well-being, his comfort, had been all that mattered.
And now that Jasper was gone, his ghost hung between them.
Great. His little brother was still cockblocking him. Sure, he’d given Jasper a fair number of wedgies and noogies. Pushed his broccoli onto Jasper’s plate more times than he could count. But this was way beyond an appropriate level of payback.
It was almost enough to make him smile at the irony. Which was weird, because no thought of Jasper had conjured up a smile in almost a year.
Kurt let his hands fall to his sides. Took a couple of steps back. Away from the temptation to do something really fucking stupid—like keep touching her. “I’m getting through. And sleep’s overrated. There’s some damn fine classic sports to be watched at three a.m. Plus, I’m totally into this series on training to be a Navy SEAL. Their workouts are insane.”
Her gaze flicked to his biceps. And then, unless he was crazy, it kept going in a full-body once-over. Talk about mixed signals. Because from the way she brought up Jasper’s name, Lisette’s leftover concern for him was obviously the only thing keeping this conversation going.
“I’ll bet you could qualify to be a SEAL. I mean, I know you’re more used to skating across water than being in it, but you could do it, Kurt. One hand tied behind your back.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Always good to have a backup career.” The moment the words came out of his mouth, he regretted it. Because he didn’t have a backup career. Should’ve. Didn’t. Which left him strung up by his skate laces right now.
“So they say.” Lisette’s response came out as half-assed as his.
It made him wonder exactly what she’d been going through herself since Jasper’s death. Had she been having a hard time? Because that was fucking unacceptable. She was so full of light and cheer and happiness. Nothing should weigh her down.
“Miss Broussard?” A front-office guy in a tie poked his head through the doors. “We’re ready for you.”
“Oh, Kurt, I have to go. It was nice—really nice—seeing you again.” Then she flashed a smile that was anything but half-assed. It was full of warmth and heat and went through him faster than an X-ray. Stirred his dick to half-mast just as fast.
“Good to see you, too.”
She hurried down the corridor at a pace that had her hips swaying hard beneath the tight black skirt. Kurt watched. Of course he watched. Hell, his eyes were glued to her ass the way he wished his hands were.
Mason—no, he had to remind himself to call the guy by his spanking new title—Coach Courage came out of the locker room right as the tap of her high black heels disappeared beneath the noise of the training facility. Kurt pointed at her. “Coach? Why is Lisette Broussard here?”
“Oh, did she get lost and run into you? Fuck.” The dark-haired Canadian rubbed his forehead, like he did during dozens of daily frustrations after stepping into their former coach’s shoes. “We’ve got to put better signage up. The UPS delivery woman wandered right into the locker room last week.”
“Pretty sure that was on purpose. Archer got a new tattoo on his thigh and blasted it all over social media. I heard there was a bounty for anyone who snapped a photo of it.”
“Archer’s an idiot. Don’t let me catch you doing something like that, Hawk. I don’t care that it’s your nickname. I don’t want to see some fucking bird on your biceps in the next team photo.”
Right. Like Mason could really stop his players from getting tattoos. Guess the promotion had him on a bit of a power trip. One that Kurt didn’t have the patience to deal with right now. “Coach? Lisette?”
“She’s here for an interview.” He checked his watch. The one with two different stopwatches that he used when he put the players through brutal sprint sessions on the ice. “I’m supposed to swing by and do a quick meet and greet in about fifteen minutes.”
Okay. Maybe instead of cockblocking from the grave, Jasper was actually trying to do some good. Kurt couldn’t figure out any other reason for Fate to hand him such an opportunity.
He blew out a deep breath. “Whatever you do, don’t hire that woman.”
Chapter Two
Lisette stopped herself from slamming the door at the last second. Oh, her day deserved a slammed door or twelve. But Noelle might be napping. And she couldn’t bear the thought of a door slammed in a fit of temper someday causing the tiny baby in her sister’s tummy to fail a geometry test.
Was that massive overkill on the fetal-development worry scale? Probably. But Lisette was already head-over-heels in love with her niece- or nephew-to-be and wouldn’t risk doing anything to stunt their growth.
She could, however, throw back two or
three Sazeracs herself. It’d cause no harm to Noelle’s baby and might tamp down her raging temper. So Lisette kicked off her heels and tiptoed, barefoot, straight to the refrigerator.
Where she suddenly remembered that her sister had thrown a giant party upon learning she was pregnant so her friends could drink up all her liquor. Lisette leaned her forehead against the cool stainless-steel door. There wasn’t a drop in the house. That was the problem with quitting your job, using up your savings to train to switch careers and having to move in with your sister.
Who was she kidding? Lisette had waaaay bigger problems than just an empty liquor cabinet. Such as no job, and suddenly, no longer even a prospect of a job.
“How’d it go?” Noelle leaned against the doorframe. Both hands cradled the nearly imperceptible baby bump beneath her oversized pink tee.
“Oh, you mean my job interview?” She pushed off the fridge and circled the room, staring at all of the cabinets as if that’d make rye and bitters magically appear. “The one that was supposed to be a slam dunk?”
“Yes. That one,” Noelle said dryly.
“It went great. Off-the-charts terrific.”
“Then why are you pacing the kitchen like a caged tiger?”
“Because.” Lisette threw up her hands. “Because after they all but promised me the job on the spot, I got a call ten minutes later when I was on the freeway coming in from Metairie. They turned me down. Flat.”
“I’m sorry, Lissy.” Noelle rounded the breakfast bar to envelop her in a hug that made everything better—for about ten whole seconds. “But don’t let yourself dwell on it too much. Something else will come up.”
Hormones made her older sister happy. All the time. Everything was rainbows and unicorns and happy endings. It was adorable, but far from useful. “I’m sure you’re right. But when? I need a job. I’m spending all of my savings on school. I need money. Now.”
“I told you that you can stay with me as long as you like.”
“Which is sweet.” Lisette pulled out of the hug. “Except that you’re getting married in two months. Before the baby poofs out your wedding dress, remember? The ingredients to a good marriage do not include your desperate, third-wheel sister skulking back to your spare room. I’ve got to pull together enough for first and last month’s rent someplace else. Get out of your hair.”
Noelle might not feel the urgency. But Lisette did. And she had a feeling that, as understanding as Sean was to her face, her sister’s fiancé was counting the days until Lisette moved out.
Not that she blamed him one bit.
A knock on the front door sent them both spinning around. “Did you order a hot guy to cheer me up?” Lisette teased.
“Sorry, Lissy.” Noelle shook her head as she walked to the door. “I nabbed the last one in all of Orleans Parish.” She opened it, turned over her shoulder and yelled, “Or maybe not.”
That was odd. Since there wasn’t any reason to stay in the kitchen, Lisette gave in to curiosity and wandered through the living room to catch a glimpse of what must be a super-hot UPS man.
“Is Lisette home?” a deep voice rumbled.
“For you? I’m pretty sure she is.” Noelle opened the door the rest of the way and headed back toward her bedroom. “He’s all yours, sugar.”
All six feet, four inches of Kurt Lundquist filled the doorway. Short brown hair, spiked in the front. Blue eyes as light as an Antarctic glacier. A strong jaw that drew attention to wide lips that made a woman imagine all sorts of wicked things. Although the image of his naked chest was indelibly etched upon Lisette’s memory, now it was covered by a steel-blue polo tucked into bone-colored shorts.
Having him show up at her apartment door—or even her sister’s door—was an almost year-long fantasy come true. Lisette had lusted after Kurt since the moment she’d met him, shaking hands across his brother’s hospital bed. Actually, she’d lusted after him for a year prior to that. Ever since he’d made the move from the Cincinnati Snakes to the Cajun Rage. Posters and billboards of him had been plastered all over New Orleans. Lisette had fallen for his ice-cold eyes and hot body just as hard as the rest of the women in the city.
Not that it mattered. It was clear he’d never looked beyond her purple nurse’s scrubs to see the woman underneath. To him, she was just Jasper’s caregiver. And no matter how much she wanted Kurt, no matter how much she’d grown to like and respect him while working in his family’s house, Lisette knew she’d never be anything but a reminder of the saddest time of his life.
Nevertheless, she was super glad to still be in her interview outfit. If he’d shown up five minutes later? It would’ve been the makeup-off, shorts-on, ponytailed version of herself who greeted him. She might not have a shot with Kurt. But Lisette did have her pride.
So she put a tiny bit of a sway in her walk as she approached the door. “This is a surprise. I never expected to see you again, let alone twice in one day.”
“Watch out. I’m addicting.”
“That’s a bold promise.”
“Nope.” His lips curled into the same smug smile he slipped on right after a perfectly executed slap shot. “Just a fact.”
“Even bolder.”
“Bold enough to get an invite inside?”
Omigosh. The shock of Kurt flirting with her, showing a side she’d never seen other than in television clips, had shocked the manners right out of her. Lisette yanked the door open wide. “Of course. I’m so sorry. I’m having a weird day.”
“Weird how? Like you found a fingertip in your salad?”
She froze, one arm outstretched toward the cream-colored sofa. “That’s randomly horrible. Do you think that just because I’m a nurse, body-part references won’t skeeve me out?”
“Now I’m sorry. I just...” Kurt shoved his hands into his pockets. “Let’s say I’m out of practice making small talk with a pretty girl.”
This couldn’t be happening. Kurt couldn’t be standing in the middle of her sister’s living room, flirting with her. It made no sense.
Hang on.
What made even less sense was him pretending to be off his game. In fact, it pissed Lisette off more than a little.
“Do you really expect me to fall for a line like that? Remember, I spent a lot of time listening to you tell Jasper stories. Especially stories about all the women who throw themselves at you. How they wait to ambush you at the rink after practice. Follow you up the elevator in hotels. Even trail you into the bathroom at clubs.”
He nodded. “That still happens.”
“I thought so.”
“I just don’t follow through anymore.”
“Really.” She let the disbelief and sarcasm coat the word as thickly as perfume hung in a Bourbon Street bar bathroom on a Saturday night. “You’re telling me that you took a vow of celibacy to win the Cup? The way some guys stop shaving?”
“Not on purpose. But I promised Jasper that I’d win it. For him. I pushed myself harder than ever. I used any extra time to help a couple of rookies on the team. Basically, I didn’t look at anyone without a mouth guard, a helmet and a stick for the whole season.”
“The season ended in April, Kurt. With the biggest win of your life. Champagne can’t be the only thing you popped to celebrate.”
Snickers floated down the hall. Great. Not only did Lisette get to be humiliated by a sports star, but she had a witness. She hurried down the hall. Stuck out her tongue at Noelle before trying to shut the bedroom door. But Noelle jammed a foot in the gap.
“You’re really putting him through his paces. Make him work for it, Lissy.”
“Eavesdrop any more, and I’ll set the scale ahead by five pounds. You just won’t know when.”
“Cruel.”
“Nosy.” She slammed the door. Living with her sister turned them both back into teenagers occasionally. When Lisette whirled around, Kurt was there. In her space. Filling the hallway with his broad shoulders.
He braced one hand on the wall behind h
er. “Look, I’m not feeding you lines. And I’m not lying. Once I won the Cup, I didn’t have anything else to work for, to aim for. So I’ve, uh, been in a funk. For a while.”
Understanding sliced through her on razor-sharp shards of regret for hassling him. God, she’d trained in not just how to care for the dying, but how to care for loved ones dealing with their loss. How shortsighted to ignore all of that just because Kurt was famous. Or because maybe, just maybe, because she’d always been jealous of the women who got to spend the night with him.
Lisette was aghast at her lack of compassion. She put her palm gently on his chest. “You’re still grieving.”
“Maybe some.” Shrugging, he added, “Not all the time. That heavy fog of it is gone.”
It hadn’t even been a year since Jasper’s death. Lisette knew all too well, clinically, that grief didn’t fade away cleanly, like a pimple. That it’d come back and go another ten rounds on Kurt when he least expected it, many more times. Taking off her nurse’s cap, though, it was easy to tell from the dull flatness in his tone and the downward turn of those wide lips that Kurt was still struggling.
After silence hung between them for far too long, Lisette prompted, “But?”
“I can’t get my stride back. Can’t get excited about...well, anything.” His other arm lifted to cage her in completely. Those ice-blue eyes pierced shockingly straight into her. “Until today. I was excited to see you.”
Lisette could barely breathe. She didn’t want so much as a puff of air to dispel the moment. The heat, the intensity swirling between them. She just wanted to stand here, a breath away from lips that promised to engulf hers, eyes that already burned with something she was scared to try to name.
She wanted this moment, taut with anticipation, to last forever.
It didn’t seem possible, but when she didn’t respond, Kurt moved even closer. His breath fanned across her cheek in an almost infinitesimal caress. In a near whisper, he said, “I shouldn’t do this.”
Check My Heart Page 2