Maybe This Love

by Jennifer Snow

  Now he understood Kristina’s need to help her son.

  He sat back. A temper like that would never get the boy to the NHL. Not these days. Years ago, big brawly players were something coaches appreciated having on their team, and a good defensive player without a fear of fighting was still secretly on every coach’s wish list, but a smaller player who was simply a hothead? No.

  The ref broke up the fight, and the boy was sent to the bleachers for a five-minute time-out, limiting his opportunity to demonstrate his fantastic puck-handling and scoring abilities. Watching Brandon from the bleachers, he saw him hit his stick against the seat and sit with his head in his hands.

  Damn.

  Against his better judgment, Ben waited for him outside the locker rooms an hour later. When the door swung open and the kid nearly collided with him, he said, “Hey, Brandon?”

  The kid’s expression was one of mixed disbelief and awe—the same one each of the boys leaving the room had worn when they saw him—but Brandon’s quickly faded to annoyance. “Wow. Mom has zero pride.”

  Ben wanted to think if he ever had kids, he’d do whatever he could to make them happy and help them reach their goals, too. “Your mom didn’t send me,” he said. It was technically true. He’d refused to give in just to have her sign the papers, putting his trust in Sanders in court the following week. “I was watching the tryouts. I like to see who might be kicking my senior citizen butt out there in a few years.” The joke was meant to lighten the tension that was so thick between them.

  But the boy didn’t even crack a smile. “I’d like the chance, seeing as how you married my mom and now you’re trying to ditch her.”

  If the roles were reversed…“I bet you would. Look man, I’m sorry about everything that’s going on. The last few months have been crazy.” He hadn’t even thought about the boy and how all of this must be affecting him. Guilt washed over him. “I know it must be hard.”

  “Try awkward as fuck.”

  “Hey! Language.” A coach wouldn’t put up with a mouth like that.

  Brandon smirked, but it was colder than the air in the arena. “Okay, Dad.”

  Shit, this had gone sideways fast. Ben clenched his teeth and fought the urge to say Oh well, I tried. “Let’s start over. I’m not here to talk about what’s happening between your mom and me. Quite honestly, I can’t even wrap my head around that, so let’s talk about what I saw out there today—as one professional player to a soon-to-be pro.”

  The kid’s face softened just a fraction. “You think I can play?”

  “I think you’ve got what it takes to make it as far as your dedication and determination and hard work will take you, but you need to check that temper, man.”

  “Seriously?” He pushed past him, heading toward the exit.

  Damn. Were all kids this stubborn and hardheaded? “You’re a really good player,” Ben called after him. “It’s too bad you’re going to blow your shot at this opportunity, because believe me, there’s no better path to the NHL.”

  Brandon stopped. “It’s too late. Coach already said that my chances are slim after that time-out. I lost too much time on the ice, and that fight…” His voice trailed as he turned around.

  “He said slim. Not completely gone.” Ben walked toward him. “Do you want this opportunity or not?”

  The boy stared at him for a long moment. Most people would have assumed his hesitancy was because he lacked the drive to do what was necessary to achieve the success he sought. Ben knew it was the kid deciding whether or not to trust him, so he waited.

  “Yes,” he said finally.

  “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do. Write a letter to Coach Sample apologizing for your behavior…”

  The kid nodded.

  “And one to that Grayson kid you nearly knocked out.”

  “No way. You should have heard what that asshole said out there.” Anger was back.

  Ben laid a hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t let someone else’s words or actions determine how you act. He only taunted you because you were playing better than him. Better than anyone else out there. Being skilled makes you a target. Being able to brush aside insults makes you a professional. Some fighting can’t be avoided, but try. Now, two letters of apology as soon as possible, before team selection is made.”

  The kid looked as though he’d rather clean the locker rooms all season, but he nodded. “Okay.”

  Now the hard part. “And contact the Colorado Anger Management Center. They have a program for teens with anger issues.”

  “I don’t have anger issues. The guy was just an asshole,” Brandon argued.

  “Fine. Call it an asshole management course if that makes you feel better, but enroll and tell the coach you’ve done that in your letter.”

  “You think that will work?”

  “No guarantees, but it will show that you’re doing everything you can to curb your…to succeed,” he said. “It will go a long way.”

  Brandon sighed. “I don’t know, man. My mom’s already riding my ass about school and shit.”

  Ben shrugged. “It’s your future, Brandon. The choice is yours. It’s always yours, remember that.” He tapped the kid on the shoulder as he passed. He’d tried. Brandon’s fate came down to how badly he wanted this for himself. He could only offer advice and hope that something he’d said would stick.

  “Hey, Westmore,” Brandon said behind him.

  He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

  “Could you give me a ride to that center?”

  * * *

  “Well, good news for your boyfriend,” Kendall said, poking her head around Olivia’s office door the next morning.

  Olivia glanced up from her computer monitor, her eyes tired from lack of sleep. After dropping the Sullivan case, she was putting in extra time on the other files she had on her plate. Staying busy helped keep her mind off of Ben and her possible pregnancy and the mixed emotions strangling her over both. “I’m sorry—what?”

  “Westmore. Kristina Sullivan dropped the case. She’s coming in to sign the divorce papers later this afternoon.”

  Olivia blinked. Had she fallen asleep at her desk? She sat straighter and shook off the exhaustion. “Why? Did you try to talk her out of it?”

  Kendall shot her a look. “Trouble in paradise?”

  She sighed. She knew her coworker had seen the picture of them at the skating rink, but luckily she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else in the office. “There never was any paradise, just a complicated mess.” One that she hoped she could put behind her quickly, but so far, her chest still contracted at the mention of Ben…or any reminder of him. “Are you sure she wants to do this?” Given the circumstances, Kristina had a great chance of getting what she wanted in court the following week—an extension on her marriage and forced counseling with Ben.

  A thought that shouldn’t have such a heart-wrenching effect on her.

  But Kendall nodded. “She said she didn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love her, and keeping Ben married is unfair.”

  Olivia wouldn’t argue against that. “What’s Kristina asking for in a settlement?” she asked. She’d reviewed Ben’s financials herself—the man had a lot to lose if Kristina was still looking for some kind of retribution. For the first time, Olivia was seeing the other side of the proceedings, and it was definitely hindering her abilities on her other cases. She was constantly reminding herself that they were different. These other men were not Ben.

  “Just enough to cover our legal fees. And I had to plead with her to do that.” Kendall shook her head. “Why do I keep getting these cases?”

  “Sorry. I thought this one was in the bag.” She really had. With Ben’s statement and the shared history between the two, the case had seemed like a no-brainer with a win for Kristina. Of course, Ben would have had the right to reapply for a divorce, but who knew what might have happened in that time.

  But he was free. Or would be soon.


  “Well, now the path is clear for you two,” Kendall said.

  Olivia shook her head. While there may no longer be a divorce case, there was still a potential pregnancy and baby to consider, and she didn’t suspect Ben was the type of man who dated pregnant women. Not to mention the fear of being hurt beyond repair when he moved on. Which he always did. She wouldn’t for a second allow herself to think she could be the one to change him. Make him want to commit. “No, that was a momentary lapse in judgment, that’s all.”

  “You sure you’re not having another one by letting him go?”

  Chapter 15

  He didn’t have time for this shit right now.

  Hitting Ignore on the call from his lawyer, Ben resumed tying his skates. This was the last practice before what could be the final game of the semifinals, and he had to focus. His team depended on him to perform the same way tonight as he’d been performing so far in this series and advance them to the finals. Finally. Text messages from his mother, his brothers, and just about everyone else who had his personal cell number wishing him luck had him on edge already.

  He couldn’t choke this time. He had to push past the personal.

  Focus on the game. Live only in this moment. Don’t mess this up.

  He stood and pulled his jersey over his head.

  “Hey man, how you feeling?” Owen asked, coming into the locker room, the mascot’s head under his arm.

  “Good. Solid.”

  His friend studied him, then, seeming convinced, he grinned. “Just wait until you see the routine I’ve got planned as soon as that winning goal sails straight into…”

  Ben’s cell rang again. “Damn it!” Picking it up, he tossed it to Owen. “It’s Sanders. Tell him whatever it is can wait until after the game.” He turned away to get his gloves and helmet as Owen answered.

  “This is Ben’s personal assistant, Owen, speaking.”

  Ben placed his hands on his hips.

  “No, he said to tell you that if you haven’t noticed, he’s going to win game six of the semifinals tonight, so if you could fuck off until then…”

  Ben swung around. “Not quite what I said.” He reached for the phone.

  Owen pulled away slightly, his eyes wide as he listened.

  Ben could hear Sanders on the other end. No doubt telling Owen where to shove the mascot head. “Give me the phone.”

  He slowly handed it over.

  “Hey, Sanders, sorry…”

  The line was dead.

  Damn. “What did he say?” he asked Owen. Whatever it was he could handle it. Or rather push it aside along with everything else.

  His buddy smiled. “Seems as though you already had one win today.”

  “What?”

  “The chick—your wife—dropped the case. Sanders filed the divorce papers this afternoon.”

  Ben’s legs felt slightly unsteady as he processed the good news. A weight he hadn’t fully realized he was carrying lifted from his shoulders, and he hugged the big furry in front of him.

  He was a free man.

  * * *

  A week and five unopened, unread, unanswered…yet undeleted text messages from Ben later, Olivia marveled at the man’s persistence. As soon as the divorce papers were filed, he’d started trying to contact her. Which made her believe that he’d been resisting their connection while he was still technically married.

  Only making him that much more appealing.

  She suspected he’d never had to work hard for a woman’s attention, and this lack of acknowledgment from her must be driving him insane. It was really the only explanation for his attempts at contact.

  She was certainly losing her mind. The temptation to read the messages was overwhelming, distracting her from their weekly office meeting with the firm’s partners, and she knew she should delete them, but instead, she scrolled over them. Not reading them.

  She knew the Avalanche had won the semifinals and advanced to the finals. Lyle had shown up to work the day after wearing a snow-covered mountain peak foam hat in celebration and hadn’t shut up about it. Olivia would have thought the upcoming finals would be Ben’s only focus.

  Apparently not, as another text from him arrived.

  “Olivia, what do you think?”

  Damn.

  “Um…I think…” Quick. What had they been discussing? She glanced at the meeting agenda, feeling Lyle’s gaze on her. The partners, too, waited for her to say something.

  Madison scribbled something on her pad and discreetly nudged it toward Olivia. Mediation agreement changes, it read.

  Right. “I think we should implement the requirement. It would certainly cut down on the time we spend in court, and the firm makes more money from those sessions anyway. They usually take about six hours, which we can bill the client directly for, and the government funding for mediations will offset any drop in billing.”

  He was nodding. “Good point. All in favor of approving the changes.”

  Olivia smiled at Madison. So far her assistant was keeping her secret, and she was even respecting Olivia’s privacy by not asking about it.

  Back in her office a few minutes later, she removed her suit jacket as she sat, and Madison followed her inside. “Thank you—you saved my life in there. I’d completely zoned out.”

  Madison closed the office door. “Yeah, you seemed a little preoccupied.” Going to the office windows, she closed the blinds as well, blocking the view to the hallway.

  Olivia shot her a look. “What’s happening?”

  Peeking through the blinds, Madison looked up and down the hall before rushing to the file cabinet on the other side of the office.

  Olivia marveled at the height of the heels the girl was wearing—five inches at least. Three was her limit, and even then she was terrified. She may have grown out of her braces, but clumsy never seemed to go away.

  “While you were in there, these came for you,” she said, pulling a vase of lilies from the side of the cabinet that was hidden from view.

  Olivia’s jaw dropped. “Oh no…”

  “Don’t worry. I told the women waiting in the reception area that they were sympathy flowers.”

  She nodded. She hadn’t even been thinking about that, but Madison was right. The last thing the bitter soon-to-be-divorced women in the waiting room would appreciate was a sign of love and affection in their face. “Does the card say who they’re from?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but she was certain Madison must be able to hear her heart pounding.

  She handed her the card.

  Stop ignoring me, or this will become a daily habit.

  Damn. He’d signed his name—his full name. There’d be no lying to her assistant about these now. Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, she struggled to find the right words. “Listen, Madison, this is…”

  “Exciting,” she said, quickly taking a seat, folding one hot pink pant leg over the other and swinging the white stiletto–clad foot.

  Exciting? Hell no. More like career-hindering. The partners had heard about her motion to withdraw from the Sullivan case, and they’d accepted her reasoning of having represented Abigail as a valid one, but they wouldn’t be impressed if they knew the whole truth. She’d been lucky that none of them were subscribers to People magazine. She shook her head. “No. It’s not what you think.”

  She frowned. “So, you’re not having a thing with Ben Westmore?”

  Olivia winced. That would depend on one’s definition of a thing. Did it include having dinner with him at his lake house? Kissing him? Agreeing to a skating lesson? Being tortured by constant thoughts of him? Then yes, in that case, yes she was having a thing. Oh God. She swallowed hard. She may be trusting Madison with a lot already, but there was no way she was adding this to the pile. Forcing her voice to remain steady, she said, “No. Definitely not. He’s been trying to contact me, and I’ve been avoiding him.” That was true at least.

  Madison frowned. “Isn’t his case resolved?”

  “Yes.” Sh
e eyed the lilies on the desk, then reread the card. Daily flowers were the last thing she needed. Though they were beautiful…and the only ones she’d ever received from a man. She shook her head. “Can you take these away?” She’d buy her own damn flowers. She’d never needed a man to do anything for her before, and she didn’t need one now.

  But what if she wanted one? God, Ben was making her crazy. Even if she did want a relationship, he wasn’t a relationship guy. Going any further with him would only lead to disappointment and heartache. And if he wasn’t interested in marriage, he certainly wouldn’t be willing to step into the role of father, if she was pregnant.

  “What should I do with them?”

  “I don’t know. Just don’t tell anyone where they came from.” Helping Madison to her feet, she handed her the flowers and shoved her gently toward the door.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to keep them?”

  “One hundred percent.” And she’d have to make sure Ben didn’t deliver on the promise of sending more…which meant contacting him.

  Damn, he was sneaky, and the worst of it was she knew it wasn’t an empty threat. Sitting in her chair, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and picked up her cell phone, hesitating for an eternity before texting,

  Are you insane? No more flo

  “I hope that’s a ‘Thank you, the flowers were beautiful’ text.” Ben’s voice in her office doorway made her jump and hit the Send button before she was ready.

  Shit. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking past him to the reception area. Madison wasn’t at her desk. Where did she go?

  “If you’re looking for your assistant, she’s locked out of the building.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “I buzzed in, said I was delivering something, and then I slipped past her into the building.”

  She sighed. “You’re impossible.”

  His cell chimed and he read her text. “And insane apparently. What does No more flo mean?” he asked with a grin.

  “Okay—out! This ends now, Ben,” she said, grabbing her office keys to let Madison back in before someone else did.