Broken (Breakers Hockey Book 1)

by Elise Faber

  “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she’d breathed.

  Caleb had laughed, taken her arm, and drawn her forward. “Come on, crazy. You can’t possibly want any more plants. The house and yard are filled with them.”

  And they were.

  Lexi’s house was an explosion of greenery and flowers, both inside and out.

  But he’d seen the disappointment on her face when Caleb had laughingly led her from the displays. Just a flash of sadness, the barest blip of anything before she’d laced her arm through her husband’s, her lips curving into a wide smile, her head resting on his shoulder.

  Luc had been three paces behind them, alternating between wanting to tear Caleb’s spine out for introducing that flash of despair onto her face, and wanting to give Lexi his credit card and turn her loose in the local garden center.

  The latter of which he’d done.

  Which was why he was walking across his lush deck, descending the three stairs that led to the in-ground hot tub, also surrounded by greenery and flowers and fucking twinkly lights above his head.

  It was an oasis.

  Built by the woman who’d had sadness on her face last night for far longer than the blip that day at the fair.

  Who’d probably be wearing that despair for many more days and nights ahead.

  Which was why he kept walking.

  Past the hot tub, beyond the tiny herb garden he’d never once so much as plucked a leaf of basil from, moving farther to the small, wooden bench in the back corner of his yard, almost completely concealed by the grouping of oak trees. More twinkling lights, this time hung through the branches overhead. The bench’s seat was covered with a thick, brightly-colored cushion that was a “dream”—Lexi’s word—to recline on, a small round table perched next to it. On top of which currently sat a paperback of Lexi’s.

  She’d accidentally left it when her house had needed to be fumigated for termites and Caleb was out of town on business. She’d stayed in the guest room, had been here for seventy-two hours, had spent hours in the yard gardening and reading. Their time together had been long enough for him to build the fantasy in his mind, to dream about what it might be like if she could stay forever.

  Then she’d gone home.

  And he’d done what he always did when she left, when she went back to her life—he’d locked that shit up and shoved it deep down. Because it was a fantasy, and it would never be reality, not with her so in love with her husband.

  Friends.

  Best friends.

  That was it.

  He’d resigned himself to the fact it was all they’d ever be.

  But now—his fingers ran over the spine of the paperback, traced the bright letters on the front, shoving—now maybe—

  No.

  She’d just found out her husband had cheated on her. Yesterday.

  Only an asshole would prey on her now, when she was vulnerable, when she’d had her life shattered and—

  Sighing, he stepped past the bench, the table, the book, and then with anger flooding through him—fury that she’d been hurt, rage at the situation, at knowing that this wouldn’t change anything between them, not right then anyway—he did the only thing he could.

  He stepped up between those oak trees.

  And he slammed his fist against the trunk.

  Over and over again.

  Until the pain in his hand masked the pain in his heart.

  Chapter Seven

  Lexi

  She felt sort of human by the time she emerged from Luc’s shower.

  The steam-filled stall and “girly shit” had gone a long way toward that, but it was also the numbness that had settled inside her.

  Caleb.

  She just couldn’t believe he’d had a whole other life outside of her.

  Multiple lives.

  And he was going to have a baby—or Girlfriend Three was. Brittney. A slender blond with huge boobs, a beautiful face, and who was twenty-two.

  Twenty-two.

  Lexi hadn’t felt old, had actually felt in the prime of her life at thirty-six, but seeing the trio of women, all in their early twenties, all far more beautiful than her, and a whole wealth of insecurity had swept forward to encompass her.

  For one moment, she’d hated herself, hated her body and the way she looked.

  Had thought there was something clearly lacking, if Caleb had needed to seek out someone else.

  But then it had hit her that he’d sought out three other women. Not even those young, gorgeous early-twenties beauties had been enough to satisfy him. So, it was that kernel she was holding on to as she stepped out of the shower and began the process of starting her life over.

  Again.

  Once after her mother had died and her dad had pushed her away.

  And now, she began anew again, after spending seven years with a man who was apparently a douche canoe—actually, no. There was no apparently about it. He was a douche canoe.

  She glanced at her clothes, not wanting to pull her dirty things back on, not wanting to be wrapped in the same fabric that had seen the shattering of her happiness.

  Not wanting to wear old underwear.

  Ew.

  That at least, tugged her from her sad state.

  It was over with Caleb. Even if Brittney hadn’t been pregnant, it would still be over. And yes, Lexi thought that name with a sneer, even though it probably wasn’t fair, especially when it seemed like all of the girls had just recently found out about each other and Lexi, and had actually done a decent thing by coming to tell her.

  She was still sneering, still upset.

  Because Brittney was going to stay with Caleb.

  Stay with Lexi’s husband.

  “Not anymore,” she whispered, staring up at herself in the mirror, wincing at the still-swollen eyes, the dark circles, the pale skin. Brittney could have him, and Lexi could even understand why the girl would stay with him. She was pregnant and twenty-two and . . . he was Caleb.

  Charming, sweet, kind, so fucking good at making people feel good.

  At making women feel good.

  But also . . . if Lexi looked closer, she recognized that he’d also been good at making her feel bad.

  Never outright.

  Just quiet, soft, slivers of conversation, planting a seed of insecurity, twisting something she said into a fight, but then the next day acting like it had never happened, praising her to excess, showering her with kindness and compliments, until she’d forgotten all about those barbs, until he’d made her feel like the luckiest woman on the planet. So, she’d tiptoed around during those spiked times, so damned careful, and then when the switch flipped and everything was fine again, and . . . she’d convinced herself their marriage was fantastic again.

  He wasn’t like that all the time.

  Everyone had bad days, right?

  Sighing, she ran the towel over her hair, knowing she needed to remember those bad times, those kernels and the switch flipping, needed to focus in on them so she could move on.

  But all the good stuff kept flashing into the forefront of her mind.

  Caleb bringing back her favorite cheesecake from New York, chilled on dry ice, just because he knew she loved it.

  Caleb finding her a rare book on gardening, the pages so fragile she was almost scared to turn them.

  Caleb proposing to her with a tree. An actual tree in a pot because he wanted her to plant it in the house they bought, to watch it grow tall and strong over the years. That tree was planted in their back yard, thriving, its branches wide and thick and—

  He had other women.

  Inhaling, she nodded to herself in the mirror, wrapped the towel tighter around her, and bypassed her pile of dirty clothes. Later, she’d collect them.

  Right in this moment, she would see about borrowing something from Luc.

  She pushed out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Luc bending over the bed, straightening the covers. He glanced up when she entered th
e bedroom, started to turn for the door.

  “Sorry,” he said, his eyes deliberately away from hers, even though he’d seen her in much less clothing—toweling?—when they’d spent hours together in the hot tub. “I just thought you might want some clean clothes.” He nodded toward the end of the bed, and she noticed for the first time that he’d left a stack of items there. “They’re probably too big, but at least they’re clean.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured, and he was already striding to the door when she groaned.

  “What?” he asked, his gaze seeming to linger on her legs for a couple of heartbeats before lifting to meet her eyes.

  “I just realized that I need to find some place to live.”

  Luc’s lips pressed flat. “You’re not going to kick him out of your house?”

  She probably should. But she didn’t want to be surrounded by that lie, that sham of a relationship. Plus, she couldn’t afford it on her own, especially if she had to buy him out.

  More than that, living there again, knowing it would all be a sham.

  “No,” she said. It would be more than she could bear.

  He didn’t press her for an explanation, just nodded firmly and said, “Then you’ll stay here.”

  Her eyes widened. Her lips parted in protest.

  Luc was suddenly in her face, his body very close to hers, the spice and sandalwood of his scent surrounding her, and any words stoppered up in her throat. “You’ll stay here,” he said again, cupping her cheek, and she saw that his knuckles were split open and raw, and she wondered what had happened. Was about to ask when he jostled her lightly. “Lexi, honey, you’re staying until you get on your feet again. Are we clear?”

  She wasn’t a woman who liked orders.

  But this was Luc.

  And it was a command that allowed her to finally take a full breath, to not feel so fucking broken.

  So, she nodded and said, “I’ll stay.”

  He smiled, and it made something in her heart unfurl.

  Something that was chased by a blip of fear and prompted her to add, “Just until I get my feet under me.”

  Those fingers stroked gently across her cheek. Just once before his hand fell back to his side. “I have no doubt that will be very soon.”

  She wished she had his confidence.

  Chapter Eight

  Luc

  It was two days later, and Caleb had been following Lexi around, excuses tumbling off his tongue as she gathered up the things she needed.

  Luc had offered to come and do this for her, so she didn’t have to see her soon-to-be ex-asshole, but she’d wanted to do it herself.

  And he got that, understood she wanted some sort of closure.

  But . . . fucking hell, he didn’t want Lexi within a hundred yards of the bastard.

  Still, Luc was waiting where she’d asked—on the porch—and listening through the open door as Caleb kept talking, the fucker continuing to follow Lexi as she strode through the ground floor, gathering up the things she would need immediately.

  They’d agreed it would be best to just get the essentials, and Luc almost smiled when he watched her pick up an indoor plant—one he’d bought her and one she apparently considered to be essential—and carried it out the front door, her eyes meeting his.

  He lifted his brows in question, silently asking if she was okay.

  She nodded, handed him the plant. “Too delicate to be left to its own devices,” she said softly.

  “Want me to grab the others?” he asked.

  Teeth nibbling on the corner of her mouth. “Just the ones on the table,” she murmured. “The others will be fine for a bit.”

  He squeezed her wrist, knowing that the bit would be until Caleb’s next business trip. They planned to move the rest of her stuff out then, and though he knew Lexi was worried about where they’d put her belongings, especially if she hadn’t found an apartment to rent by then, Luc didn’t give a shit. They’d get a storage unit or cram them into his place. He just wanted Lexi to have this break be as painless as possible. “Got it,” he murmured, ignoring the pleading look that Caleb was tossing him, having trailed Lex into the front hall.

  As though Luc would put a good word in for him.

  Never. Going. To. Happen.

  The man was dead to him.

  But Lexi didn’t need any more shit heaped onto her, and that included Luc brawling with her not-yet ex-husband. Not that it would be brawling, he knew. His fury was a deep, ice-cold sort of rage, and he had absolutely no compunction about wanting to make the other man pay. It would be a bloodbath.

  Just . . . not today.

  Inhaling sharply through his nose, Luc moved to his SUV, opened the tailgate, and carefully stowed the plant.

  Then returned to the house and snagged the remainder of her pots from the table—along with a few others that were nearby that he could fit in the back.

  Once he’d filled the trunk, he returned to the house and saw that there were a few packed totes in the hall. Most looked to be filled with makeup and hair stuff, a blow dryer, a metal tong-like thing, some brushes, and a toiletry bag, all shoved in alongside several wrapped up towels that appeared to be for her hair.

  The next bag had clothes—no, underwear. Colorful, lacy underwear that had heat curling down his spine.

  He punched it down.

  Extinguished it as best he could.

  Then grabbed both bags and the one with kitchen stuff, things he probably had at his place, but wasn’t about to argue with her over. If Lex wanted her blender, then she’d have her blender.

  Luc went onto the porch and stowed the bags in the back seat then followed the noise of Caleb’s whining and excuses all the way upstairs and into their bedroom. He’d never been in this space before, but it was intrinsically Lexi. The bright floral painting on the wall over the bed, the soft purple rug, the crisp white linens, the pale gray dresser and nightstands.

  Caleb was standing next to her as she emptied that dresser, shoving things into a suitcase, even as he was still pouring out bullshit, though Lexi was giving absolutely no indication that she was listening to him in the least.

  The bullshit halted when Luc cleared his throat and let his fury bleed onto his face.

  His hatred. His rage.

  That Caleb would have the gift that was Lexi and to treat her like this.

  Oh, Luc was very close to murder, to that aforementioned bloodbath.

  But he stifled it, because when Lexi glanced up from her suitcase, he didn’t miss the relief in her eyes.

  Luc nodded encouragingly. “You’ve got this,” he mouthed.

  Her shoulders lifted and fell on a breath, and then she opened the final drawer, scooped out her clothes, and shoved them into her suitcase.

  “Lexi,” Caleb said, “please, don’t do this. It’s not what you think.”

  Luc started to move, to go to her side, but his strong, capable Lexi had it.

  “Caleb,” she snapped. “You are so full of shit that you don’t even recognize its taste on your tongue.” She zipped the suitcase closed, stood. “You cheated on me. You got another woman pregnant. When we were—” Her throat worked, and Lexi’s eyes glimmered with tears before she sucked in a breath, straightened her shoulders. “There’s never any going back from that. Not with me. We’re done.”

  There was a finality in her words that had Caleb’s shoulders slumping.

  But then the bastard reached for Lexi’s suitcase, whether to carry it out or hold it hostage, Luc didn’t know. Instead of waiting to see which way it would go, he strode across the room, snagged the bag and positioned himself between them. “Ready?” he asked, glaring at Caleb.

  Lexi nodded, headed for the door then paused, spun back to the bed and snagged her pillow.

  “Now, I’m ready,” she whispered. “Ready to move on with my life.”

  He unlocked the door, exhaustion heavy on his shoulders.

  It had been two weeks since Lexi had found out about Caleb. The
y’d returned the previous Friday to clear out the rest of her stuff from the apartment.

  Then he’d gone on the road with the team, finished out the last three games of the season, while she’d gone back to his house, and had hopefully made herself at home.

  The Breakers hadn’t made the playoffs—a pathetic undertaking—and Luc now had some tough decisions to make. The board, the coaching staff, the scouts all would have opinions about what the next season’s roster should look like, but ultimately, the final choices would be down to him and what type of deals he could negotiate.

  And who he had to cull.

  Normally, he would have gone straight into his back yard—well, he would have stopped by the kitchen, snagged a beer, and then proceeded to the back yard to get drunk enough to clear his mind.

  Today, however, his pit stop—and his pitying—was interrupted by soft humming.

  He moved into the kitchen, saw Lexi swaying, her hips moving to whatever music she was listening to, her earbuds bright white against the brown wisps of her hair that had escaped her ponytail.

  Something was boiling on the stove, the oven was on, and she was wearing an apron over her dress, heels on her feet.

  It was his actual 1950s caveman fantasy, all born to life.

  A woman in the kitchen, waiting for him.

  A dress that could be lifted, heels that could be pressed into his back when she wrapped her legs around his hips as he thrust deep.

  God, he was a fucking pig.

  Lexi was still humming, dancing, slowly spinning in his direction.

  Her eyes widened when she saw him, one hand going up to tug the earbud out. “Hey!” she said brightly, though he didn’t miss the ring of red around her eyes that showed him she’d been crying.

  Again.

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry about the team,” she murmured, her face soft. “I know the season didn’t go how you wanted.”

  That was the understatement of the year, but Luc just smiled and said, “Shit happens.”

  A blip of bleak in her eyes. “Yeah, it does.”