No, getting back together with Jim isn’t going to happen. Even though I still love him, I can’t go back to that life. I can’t accept not being his everything and no matter what he might say, I wasn’t that to him for an exceedingly long time. It hurt too much, and while I might miss all the good things we had going for us they don’t outweigh the bad that tore me apart in the end.
Huffing out a sigh of regret and longing for everything we’ve lost, I cap the mascara I had just swiped across my lashes and turn to set it in my makeup drawer.
My gaze locks onto the edge of a photo pushed toward the back. I should ignore it—I had put it in this drawer over five months ago when I asked Jim to move out.
Not really wanting to, but not seeming to be able to help myself, I grab the photograph and pull it out.
I try to examine it without emotion, but I can’t. It’s of Jim and me about two years after Lucy was born. We were so young—just around twenty-two, I think—and we were on a little summer vacation. It was just the two of us. My parents watched Lucy, and Jim whisked me off to the Maldives. We were living a fairy tale with him being a professional hockey player making more money than we even knew existed, having a beautiful baby girl, and I had a husband that adored me.
The picture is a selfie as we were walking along the beach at sunset. Our faces are pressed in close together, both beaming at the camera, and just before Jim had snapped the photo on his iPhone, he turned and kissed me on the cheek. I’m grinning like a fool and Jim’s eyes are closed—almost in rapture—as his lips press against me. It’s a simple picture and even though his eyes are closed, the entirety of it is of a man deeply in love with his wife. It’s a moment that stirred such deep emotions when I first saw it that I knew I’d have to print it so I could see it often.
It was actually in a four-by-six frame on our dresser. I had knocked it over one day, shattering the glass. I pulled the photo out until I could get a new frame, then tucked it into the corner of the makeup vanity frame. I ended up looking at it far more often than I ever did when it was on the dresser, so I just kept it there.
Until the day Jim moved out, then I put it in the drawer.
I left the other photos of him up downstairs as most are family photos, and I wanted Lucy to have a connection to him in this house. It was a stark-enough contrast with him gone that I couldn’t erase him entirely.
I didn’t want to erase him at all, but I’d also given up hope a long time ago that he’d change. When I asked him for a separation, I had thought it might spark him into some type of action. I was hoping it would shock him enough to do something to fight for me, but he never did.
And now that I’ve actually found a nice man to date who seems into me, Jim wants back into my life?
It pisses me off almost as much as it amuses me.
I’m afraid it’s a little too late.
But that kiss, Ella. It was fantastic.
“Shut up,” I mutter. I mean, David is a great kisser, too.
Sort of.
A little too much on the wet side, but he more than makes up for that in the devotion he has shown me over the last few weeks. He knows I want to take it slow, and he’s accommodated my every wish. I wasn’t exaggerating to Jim, either. David is trying hard to win me over so I’ll let him take things to the next level. He sends me gifts, flowers, and cards. He manages to let me know every single day how much he likes me and wants more from me.
At the end with Jim, I would go weeks without knowing if he even loved me anymore.
With one more sorrowful glance at a photo that represents another life, I put it back in the drawer and close it. David will be here soon to pick me up, and I still need to decide what jewelry I’m going to wear.
♦
“This tortellini is really good,” I remark after swallowing a bite. “Are you sure you don’t want to try it?”
David smiles across the table, picks up his wine, and takes a sip. When he sets it down, his eyes are alight with humor. “For the third time, no thank you.”
I blink. “I asked you three times?”
He smirks at me, and no matter that Jim calls him Mr. Ordinary, David Wells is no ordinary man. He’s incredibly handsome, and that smirk makes him look downright sexy. “You’re distracted tonight, Ella. What’s the matter?”
And here’s the thing. David and I have known each other for a little over three weeks. We’ve been on a total of five dates, including tonight. But in between those five dates, we’ve had long telephone conversations and email exchanges where we’ve gotten to know each other perhaps even better than if we’d had a few more dates. He knows quite a lot about me, and he can clearly read my mood.
Setting my fork down, I wipe my mouth with my napkin and replace it on my lap. Sheepishly, I admit. “It’s Jim.”
“What about him?” David asks easily. I told him some things about Jim and why we’re separated. David knows why I want to take it slow. I have never badmouthed Jim to David, and he’s never felt the need to do it for me.
“He says he wants me to take him back,” I say, deciding that sugarcoating the truth would waste time.
David blinks, his smile disappearing and his eyes filling with concern. “And what do you want?”
“I don’t want the man I asked to leave back.” That’s the absolute truth. I’m never going to let myself be worthless in someone else’s eyes.
There’s a definite gleam of relief in David’s eyes. “Then why are you so distracted?”
“Well…” I begin, and then figure I need a sip of wine for fortification first. After swallowing, I say, “Jim has indicated he’s going to fight for me.”
David frowns. “What does that even mean?”
I shrug. “I have no clue. But I think he thinks it’s a competition with you.”
“Because you and I are dating,” David muses, tapping his fingers on the table.
“This is weird,” I blurt out, screwing my face up. “It’s weird, right?”
To his credit, David doesn’t say it’s weird. Chuckling, he admits, “I’ve never dated a woman who was separated before. So, this is new territory for me.”
“It’s new for me, too,” I murmur, taking another sip of wine.
“What did you tell him?” David asks, and I actually choke on the sip I took.
My eyes water as I cough, managing to set my wine down before I spill it. Inhaling, I ask, “What do you mean by what did I tell him?”
David’s expression says he knows I’m not that obtuse. His question is legit. He just stares with one eyebrow cocked. He does have the nicest blue eyes.
“I didn’t say anything,” I finally admit.
“Didn’t tell him you welcomed him trying to win you back?” David suggests.
“Nope.”
“Didn’t tell him that you didn’t want him to try?” he presses.
“No,” I admit a little guiltily.
“Gave him no indication at all what you were feeling?” he asks pointedly.
I shake my head. “I guess I was just shocked.”
“Shocked he wants to make a go of it? Or shocked by something else?”
It’s almost like David’s a little too perceptive, and I know I can’t keep details from him. Not if we’re going to continue to see each other.
I cross my arms on the table, leaning inward a bit. My eyes lock onto his. “He kissed me yesterday. I guess he wanted to prove there was still something between us. And he said he was not afraid to go head to head with you to win me back.”
David’s lips press flat, and he nods with understanding. “A competition, huh? And you’re the prize?”
“It’s so stupid,” I assure him.
“Is it really?” he asks in a low voice. “You have a lot of history with him. A daughter. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”
I lift my chin, not letting my gaze waver. “Because, honestly, I don’t think he can make me happy. I don’t think he knows what I want and even if he did, I doubt he ha
s the ability to give it to me.”
“Then tell him not to bother,” David suggests, but it’s more than a suggestion. He’s deftly pushed me into this corner where I’ve said I don’t believe in Jim. David is probably right… I should dissuade my husband from even trying.
“You and I seem to have something good,” I say softly.
David nods, reaching out across the table and I easily put my hand in his. “I think so.”
My gaze moves down to my hand in his. It’s a nice hand. Strong. Sure. Comforting.
“But,” I continue, bringing my gaze up. “I wonder…”
“If he could be what you want?” he finishes for me.
“I’m pretty sure he can’t.” I shake my head in consternation. “But there’s that tiny part that just wonders. And, like you said, we have history.”
Much to my surprise, David doesn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezes my hand. “It sounds like I still have a shot then.”
My eyebrows shoot up, my eyes flaring with surprise. “You’d want to keep seeing me? Even if my husband tries to pursue me?”
“Well,” he drawls with a grin. “You don’t seem confident he can do it. Seems like the odds are in my favor, right?”
I frown, confused by his response. I thought he’d graciously call us quits. “So you want to continue to date me, but you’re okay if I date my husband?”
The look I get is a bit censuring. “No, that’s not what I said. But, for now, he hasn’t asked you out. He’s only made some big talk. It’s not like he’s done anything to concern me.”
My gaze drops guiltily, and I tug my hand free. “Actually… when he kissed me, it was…”
I don’t know what it was, but I felt it everywhere. I can’t say that to David, because then he’ll want to know if his kisses make me feel that way… and they just don’t. But won’t that come with time? As we get to know each other better?
“Oh, boy,” David says in dismay. “That kiss was something, wasn’t it?”
I shake my head because David is inferring the emotional feeling it might have produced. “It was intimate,” I correct. “Proprietary, like he was staking a claim. But I pushed him away and told him that wasn’t what I needed to make me happy.”
“I see,” he murmurs in dismay.
“I pushed him away,” I reiterate.
But did you really want to, Ella?
Shoving that thought down, I pin my gaze on David. “I know this just made things messy, and I would not fault you at all if you want to walk the other way. I have no clue what Jim may or may not do. But I wanted you to know that he said he wants to make an effort.”
David seems to consider that. Our waiter starts to approach us, but David shakes his head, waving him off. Bringing his attention to me, he asks, “And what do you want, Ella?”
It’s a fair question. He wants me to pick him over Jim affirmatively, but it’s not about that with me. “I just want to be happy, David.”
David rubs his jaw with his hand, his expression dubious, which is why I’m surprised when he says, “I’d like to keep seeing you, Ella. I like you a lot. And I understand you want to take things slow. I am still cool with that, too. But if it ever comes to the point we can’t progress because you want something with Jim, I hope you’ll be upfront with me about it.”
“Of course I would,” I exclaim. “I would never string you along, nor would I do that to Jim. All I know is I like you, too. And what you and I have is what I’m sure about in my mind. Yes, we might be going slow, but I just came out of a very unhappy situation. I’m not sure if Jim’s even serious about any of this, but I just wanted you to know what he proclaimed. I want to give you the opportunity to walk away from this because it’s not simple for me right now.”
Before responding, David takes my hand in his once again. “I respect your honesty, and it’s just another thing about you that I find myself drawn to. I might stick around a while to see where this goes.”
My face breaks into a wide smile. “That makes me happy.”
Which is the truth. A real truth, because David is a genuine guy whom I like a lot.
But the one thing I hold back from him is that, deep down inside, even if David and I progressed and Jim never followed through with his big words, I know I’ll never love anyone the way I loved Jim. And I have to wonder what type of disservice I would be doing to David by letting him fall for a woman like that.
I shake the thought off.
Nothing is serious with David at this point. We’re two people who like each other and have a good time. We’ve enjoyed some goodnight kisses that might have gotten a little deeper each time he bids me farewell at my door, but I’ve been upfront with him since we were set up on a blind date.
I’m not ready to get serious with anyone right now.
He assured me that he was fine with that, and I’ll have to take him at his word.
Squeezing his hand before I pull it away, I grab my fork and spear another tortellini covered in a light carbonara. I wave it playfully in the air. “Now, are you sure you don’t want to try a bite of this?”
Laughing, David leans forward. “Fine. Give me a damn bite.”
CHAPTER 4
Steele
There are high fives all around as we trudge into the locker room on our skates. We beat the Edmonton Grizzlies in a hard-fought 2-1 win on the ice. My line was equally matched with their second line, and it felt like a battleground the entire time. My legs are shaky as I make my way to my cubby and sit on the bench to pull off my blade guards, followed by a quick unlacing of my skates.
I’m thinking about going to sit in an ice bath before I leave tonight since our team trainers stand at the ready to attend sore muscles, strains, and bruises.
I’m followed by my linemates, our cubbies all on the same row. Kane, our center, Jett right-winger, and Bain and Riggs defensemen. I’m the last part of the line, playing left wing.
The mood is high because we won, and most of the chatter revolves around reliving the glory plays tonight or scuffles some of the players got in. At one point, our team captain, Bishop Scott, walks over to give us personal congratulations. It’s been his routine since he assumed the captaincy last year.
“That was a sweet goal,” he compliments Kane. It was fed off a pass from Jett, so he turns to him and grins. “Just as sweet assist.”
Bishop moves off to the third line, and Kane shifts to me. “I swear I thought you had that goal in the third.”
“Clanged right off the fucking pipe,” Bain grumbles.
I shrug. I’ve been in the league for longer than most of these guys, and I don’t obsess over every missed goal anymore. I know I can’t make a hundred percent, but as long as I give a hundred and ten percent of my effort, I’m satisfied.
The shaking of my legs tells me I did.
“What are you guys doing tonight?” Jett asks. He’s the youngest on our line at twenty-five, and he’s always wanting to go out and party after a win. “Some Sneaky Saguaro?”
He’s referring to the restaurant/bar here in Phoenix that has become our unofficial hangout after games.
“I’m in,” Kane says as he removes a skate. “I bet Aaron is, too.”
“Why is that?” I ask curiously.
“Our women folk have decided to go camping tonight,” Kane replies with a grin.
Tipping my head back, I laugh. Leave it to Mollie and Clarke to do something like that, especially since Mollie is a travel blogger.
“I’m in,” Bain replies. He’s closer to Jett’s age, and they’ve been hanging out a lot lately.
As expected, Riggs doesn’t answer at all. He’s an intensely quiet man unless we’re out on the ice, and, so far, no one has been able to break the barrier with him. He’s not rude, just a little standoffish. He doesn’t engage in small talk, so you best believe if he says something, it’s probably important.
“What about you, Jim?” Kane asks as I stand from the bench, having pulled my skates off.
/> My hands go to the hem of my sweater. Before I lift it, I shake my head. “I’m out.”
“Doing something with Lucy after the game?” he inquires.
The sweater comes off, and I toss it in the bottom of my cubby where equipment personnel will pick up all of our gear for cleaning. “Nah. It’s a school night.”
Which wouldn’t ordinarily be a deal-breaker on game night, but Lucy decided she didn’t want to come to the game—not even my enticement of offering her friends tickets changed her mind. Not going to say it didn’t hurt my feelings just a tad, since she used to come to most.
But that was almost a different life before Ella asked me to leave.
On the flip side, although Lucy didn’t want to come to the game tonight, our entire day and evening yesterday went way better than expected. Admittedly, her attitude buoyed after I told her I’d think about a puppy.
“Then come out with us,” Jett urges since I seemingly have nothing to hold me back. It’s exactly what I’ve done after most games we’ve won since the split from Ella.
“I actually have plans,” I reply as I start to work on removing all my padded protectors.
That causes Kane’s head to whip my way. “A date?”
I know why this causes him confusion because he was my stalking ride-or-die a few weeks ago when I tailed Ella and Mr. Ordinary, and he knows I want my wife back.
“Not a date,” I assure him. “But I am going over to Ella’s to talk to her.”
Of course, Ella has no idea I’m coming over, but I like catching her off guard.
“Nice,” Kane says, nodding his head with a knowing look. “You go and ‘talk’ with her.”
He puts up air quotations when he says the word “talk”.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be a dick. We’re just talking.”
Snorting, Kane turns his attention to his own pads, but he does ask, “How was your night with Lucy?”
“Great,” I drawl, followed by a chuckle. “As long as you don’t count the emotional blackmailing of a thirteen-year-old asking for a puppy.”
Kane barks out a laugh, as do Bain and Jett. Riggs appears not to be listening, stoically quiet as ever.
Steele Page 4