“Is there a problem?” Part of her wanted there to be a problem—anything to keep him around a little longer. Dangerous thinking, but there it was.
“I, uh, I wanted to know if I could take you to dinner. If you don’t have plans, that is.” He’d given her an easy out.
She opened her mouth to make up a lame excuse, but instead the words poured from her heart instead of her head. “I’d like that. I’m starved. Why don’t you leave Nick here with Cyrus? We’ll come back for them when we’re done.”
His smile lit up his face, and his eyes regained their sparkle. “Great. You pick the place.”
“There’s not much to choose from in the off season. How about the Island Pub?” She suggested the bar where most of the locals hung out and the least intimate eating establishment on the island, so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“Best burgers in town.” He waited for her to lock the clinic door.
“Let’s walk. It’s only a couple blocks.” Sarah turned to find him close behind her. She made the mistake of looking into his blue-gray eyes. She felt herself falling under their spell as his gaze pulled her deeper. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. Her lips parted, sending him a silent invitation without her conscious permission. He touched her cheek with the rough pads of his fingers. Her breath hitched, and her entire body poised for more. A car honked on the street next to the clinic and snapped her out of her trance. She shook her head and slipped away from him.
Kissing him would send her back to square one when it came to getting over him.
She didn’t dare go there.
Not now and not in the next one hundred years.
* * * *
Blake could not believe Sarah had accepted his dinner invitation. He’d prepared himself for a bullshit excuse. Then they’d almost kissed. If it hadn’t been for old Mr. Sanders choosing that moment to drive by and lay on the horn, they would’ve. He didn’t know whether to curse the man or thank him.
Sarah walked briskly, and he hobbled to keep pace. She entered the pub ahead of him, almost as if she regretted her rash decision to have dinner with him and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Choosing a table in the middle of the large room, rather than one of the more intimate booths lining the walls, Sarah took a seat.
He didn’t really know why he’d invited her to dinner any more than he understood why she accepted. Hadn’t he reminded himself a few days ago they had no future? Yet, his damn SUV pretty much drove itself to the clinic today. Yeah, and it put the cat in the crate and loaded him up, too.
Blake was a pathetic mess, and he needed someone. That someone happened to be Sarah. Only using her because he was needy didn’t set well with him. He’d only leave her again and break both their hearts.
Being alone was tough because all his buddies had women in their lives who were permanent fixtures. Blake’s own parents had been the best example a person could have of a good relationship. If he couldn’t have what they had, he didn’t want anything. But healthy relationships required sacrifices on both sides. If Blake wanted Sarah in his life, he’d have to sacrifice hockey. So far he couldn’t fathom his life without hockey any more than he could imagine her leaving her vet practice and moving to the mainland.
He’d examined their situation upside down and inside out until he wanted to shout in frustration. Regardless of how he spun it, he kept coming to the same conclusion. He loved her. When two people really loved each other, shouldn’t they be able to overcome any obstacle blocking their future together? Love wasn’t easy, but it was worth it, as witnessed by his parents’ relationship. Yet here he was, thirty-five and alone with very little to show for his years except a shitload of money which meant very little to him, and no one upon whom to lavish his good fortune.
He fucking hated being alone.
With a sigh, Blake ended his pity party and took a seat at the table across from Sarah. The bar was pretty quiet, only a handful of people scattered at tables and a few others playing a game of pool near the back.
“Hey, Sarah,” said a big, bald bartender as he placed a glass of red wine in front of her without even asking what she wanted.
“Thanks, Phil.” Sarah smiled up at him, while Blake watched intently. Her smile wasn’t the smile of a lover—former or current—so he let out a relieved sigh.
The man turned to Blake. A friendly smile crossed his face. “What’ll you have?”
“A dark beer on tap.”
“You got it.” He placed a couple dilapidated menus in front of them and wandered off, stopping on his way to talk to another group of locals.
“Come here a lot?” Blake asked.
“Enough. Phil is an island staple. I’ve known him all my life. He was good friends with my father.” At the mention of her father who’d died a few years ago, her lower lip quivered, and Blake longed to comfort her. She wouldn’t want his comfort, and he’d be unwise to give it. He was confused enough when it came to his feelings for her. He suspected she felt the same.
It struck Blake that Phil most likely knew Sarah better than he did. Phil had probably known her longer and spent more time with her. Perhaps he’d known her mother before she’d succumbed to cancer. Hell, Phil might’ve known Blake’s family, though they hadn’t been much for frequenting bars when they’d been vacationing on the island.
Suddenly he realized Sarah was speaking to him. “Sorry, I missed that.”
She smiled sympathetically at him. “I drift off a lot this time of year myself.” She reached out to pat his hand. He couldn’t resist, he caught her hand in his and held it. She didn’t pull away. Her deep brown eyes met his, holding his gaze.
He didn’t want to fight the feelings anymore. He was tired of fighting his feelings, his injury, and his career. Why couldn’t things be simple for once and go his way?
Because nothing worth having is easy. If everything fell in your lap, you wouldn’t see the value in it. His father’s words of wisdom floated back to him as if he were in the room with his easy-going smile, puffing on a good cigar. A pang of loneliness clenched his gut. Sarah took his other hand in hers and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged, not in the mood to lie. He’d been lying to his coaches, his trainers, hell, to himself. He didn’t want to lie to Sarah. “Just wondering where my life goes from here and wishing I could find a way to make sure you’re in it.”
“Blake,” she said with a sad sigh.
Phil chose that moment to return with their drinks and to take their orders. He pointedly stared at their linked hands. They ordered burgers, and he once again left them alone.
“Can’t we find a way, Sarah? We’re smart, industrious people.”
“I’m not cutout for a long-distance relationship. We tried for six months. I hated it. Let’s not rehash all this. It does no good. I know what I want. I want a family, a man to share my life, one who’ll be there waiting when I come home from a difficult late night or vice versa. I don’t want a man who’s gone over half the time and unreachable.”
“But I’m retiring,” Blake pointed out.
“To do what? More hockey? Coaches work as hard and travel as much as the players. You’d be required to live in Seattle year round. I can’t bear the thought of leaving this island. It’s the only home I’ve ever known, and the only one I want to know. We’ve both made our choices. Why make this any worse than it needs to be?”
Blake shrugged as she released his hands and took a sip of wine. Blake took a long pull on his beer, his head grinding through the possibilities while knowing she’d never agree to any of them. She was right. Coaching was brutal.
Being without Sarah would make it even more so.
Chapter 5—Offsides
Blake and Sarah didn’t head straight back to the clinic after dinner. She seemed to want to linger along the waterfront. He gladly agreed, not wanting the night to end. They’d set aside revisiting their relationship and had a lovely dinner, enjoyed each other’s company, and laughe
d more than he’d laughed in a long time.
Sarah hesitated in front of the cute, little bistro with a for lease sign in the window.
“Is this the place Janna mentioned?” Blake asked.
“Yes.”
“My mom and I used to joke about opening a little café together on this island.” The words tumbled out, as that long-forgotten memory squeezed at his heart.
“You did?” Sarah’s quick glance betrayed her surprise.
“Yeah, Mom loved to cook.”
“But with you? Her big, brawny, hockey-playing son?”
“Yeah, actually,” he admitted.
“You are a good cook.”
“I make comfort food, not that fancy shit most of the restaurants on this island serve.” Blake didn’t care much for food he couldn’t pronounce or identify.
“Exactly the type of place we need. Most of the locals would prefer it rather than more places catering to tourists.”
He grinned at her. “Are you trying to talk me into staying?” He kept his tone light and teasing, but deep down he was dead serious as a seed of hope took place, a seed too wild and crazy to process. He pushed it aside for now.
She ducked her head, but not before he caught her face turning red. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pressed his face to the window and looked inside.
“Everything’s here. All the tables, chairs, looks like the kitchen is intact from what I can see.”
“And the view is incredible,” she added helpfully.
“That it is.” Blake turned to study her, pretty damn sure her reasons for walking by this little café were more than casual. Not that it mattered. He was going back to Seattle to coach hockey, his first and only true love, wasn’t he?
But he loved to cook, and he loved Sarah—no doubt about that. Her absence in his life had made his heart grow fonder, and he longed for her. These past few days had been a combo of torture and heaven. He loved being in her presence, hearing her voice hitch with the quick breath she took when he looked into her eyes, inhaling the scent of her peach shampoo, and feeling her warm hand enveloped in his.
She met his gaze and licked her lips. Oh, God, he couldn’t resist those soft pink lips. Just could not. He lowered his head and cupped the back of her neck with one hand, pulling her closer. She didn’t resist. Instead, she met him halfway and ran her hands up his arms. Their lips touched, and Blake’s future plans exploded in front of his very eyes. All he could see was Sarah, this island, and a huge passel of kids to replace the families they’d both lost. As he deepened the kiss, any further thoughts were sucked into nearby Chinook Channel and whisked away.
Their tongues tangled. Blake’s breathing grew harsh. His need for her overwhelmed him, leaving him needy and scared shitless. They kissed until he swore they’d both have bruised lips.
Sarah drew back first, gripping his shoulders, as if using him for a crutch in order to stay on her feet. “Blake,” she whispered, his name like a song on her lips.
“Sarah,” he croaked, fighting for the words to make things right between them. Yet, mere words wouldn’t be enough, and Blake wasn’t prepared to give up hockey, even for Sarah. Even worse, he wasn’t prepared to give up Sarah. He wanted that fucking cake, and he wanted to eat it too.
Only life never worked like that, at least not for him.
She buried her head in his chest and clung to him, and he clung right back. Finally she lifted her head and searched his eyes as if they held the answers, but he didn’t have any answers, just too many questions of his own.
“I don’t know what to do about you,” she said.
He managed a half smile. “Same here. Come home with me tonight.” He hated the pleading tone in his voice, but what the hell?
“I’d love to.” She surprised him by not hesitating.
“You would?”
Sarah stroked his cheek and laughed. “Yes.”
“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s get the kids and hit the road.” He grabbed her hand and together they walked to the clinic and loaded their animals. Sarah followed him to his beautiful waterfront home—the very home he’d inherited from his parents five Christmas Eves ago when his family never made it to the island for Christmas.
Being with Sarah in this house dissolved the haunting memories and replaced them with warmth and hope. For now, he’d hang onto the good feelings and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.
* * * *
Sarah pulled behind Blake’s truck in the driveway and got out, opening the door for Cyrus, who immediately went about his business watering bushes. Blake stood next to her, ignoring the protesting cat in the crate he held.
“Nick isn’t happy.”
“Not one damn bit,” Blake laughed and cast a sexy smile her direction. They waited impatiently for Cy to finish and entered the house. Blake released Nick from the crate. With a flick of his tail and a withering look over his shoulder, Nick, glad to be around his buddy again, curled next to Cy near the hearth, even though Blake hadn’t built a fire.
“Would you like a nightcap?” Blake asked, playing the polite host, even though she’d bet her booty he’d much prefer to have her horizontal and naked in the next five minutes.
Sarah shook her head. Considering she needed to be at the clinic by eight-thirty AM, she had no intention of wasting one more minute. Instead she turned to the stairs and gave him an exaggerated come hither jerk of her head, crooking her index finger at him. He laughed and hobbled after her. Sarah broke into a run, and Blake was no match for her with his leg in a cast. She stopped at the landing and waited as he struggled up the stairs. By the time he’d reached the top, he was panting, while she’d stripped off all her clothes.
“Sarah, you’re killing me.” His eyes shone with desire and a need much deeper than lust.
“You’re wrong, I plan on making you live all night long.”
He grinned from ear to ear, tossing his T-shirt over the bannister as he finally reached the landing. Together they entered the bedroom and closed the door so the animals couldn’t intrude.
She turned to him, more than ready to get this party started. After some creative positioning to accommodate his cast, they made wild and crazy love to each other. Sated and spent, they lay in each other’s arms in comfortable silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts.
It wasn’t long before Blake nuzzled the top of her head. His erection pressed against her leg. She smiled against his bare shoulder, knowing he was ready for the next round and so was she. This time they made slow, sweet love to each other.
Lying next to him and hearing his steady breathing, Sarah’s head spun as she sought to find a way to work things out between them. Blake was her forever love. She knew it the moment she first laid eyes on this rugged man gently holding a tiny kitten in his large hands. He’d stolen her heart last Christmas Eve, and tonight she’d stopped kidding herself. She’d never get her heart back from him. Not that she wanted to retrieve it.
She wanted Blake forever. She loved him, and when you loved someone, there had to be a way to make it work. She’d seen a flicker of interest in his eyes when she’d shown him the small café. She’d hoped against hope he might be content to run a restaurant on the island. They could decorate it with a hockey theme, come up with a clever name, and with his money, he wouldn’t have to open it more than a few days a week, maybe a little more during tourist season.
They needed to find a way for the man to satisfy his hockey craving. She lived on an island requiring an hour’s ferry trip to the mainland and two driving hours to Seattle or an hour in a floatplane. Blake probably wasn’t too wild about commuting via floatplane considering what happened to his family, and she didn’t blame him one bit.
Being with him again in body and soul obliterated her resolve regarding a long-distance relationship. They had to find a way to make this work. To do so would require compromises from both of them. Maybe she had options, such as bringing in a partner so she could spend a portion of her time on the mai
nland.
She didn’t know how far either would go for the other, but she was willing to try because not to try would be the biggest regret of her life.
Chapter 6—Driving to the Net
Blake bustled around his kitchen, incredibly energized considering the three hours of sleep he’d gotten the night before. The reason for his sleepless night lay upstairs, and he glanced at his watch, wanting to give her as much time as possible to sleep while allowing for breakfast and arriving at the clinic on time.
Last night had changed everything just as his first night with Sarah on Christmas Eve had one year ago. This time he didn’t know how he could leave her again. This realization had him rethinking every truth he’d held dear about his goals, his future, and his needs. Up until last night, he’d considered hockey his number one need, now she’d turned his entire life upside down and had him questioning his steadfast commitment to all-things hockey.
He could have a fulfilling future without hockey, couldn’t he? Would Sarah be enough to keep him satisfied for the rest of his life? He thought so.
Blake stood in his kitchen and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room at the dark, swirling waters of Chinook Channel. He loved this place. Yet did he love the island and Sarah enough to be content and happy here? He also loved the game, the swish of his skates on the ice, the adrenaline rush of a shot hitting the net, hearing the crowd cheer after a hard-won game. That part of his life was gone regardless of whether he stayed on the island or returned to Seattle to coach. He’d never play NHL hockey again. He was mourning the death of a career. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to mourn the death of his relationship with Sarah for a second time.
Memories flooded back from this past summer of him leaning against the ferry railing as it pulled away from the dock. Sarah stood on shore with tears streaming down her face. Leaving her broke his heart and hers, but she’d insisted on the breakup, believing it was for the best. His life had been in Seattle, hers on the island. Now he wondered if he should’ve fought a little harder, explored options he’d been reluctant to explore, and reexamined his priorities.
A Madrona Island Christmas Page 7