by Lavinia Kent
“I don’t actually know what my father wanted. I think he would have been happy if I’d decided to major in English and then find a husband—and I don’t mean to disparage English majors. I just know that was one of the majors he considered suitable for women. It would prepare them to make good conversation at dinner parties.”
“Are you sure we’re not in the 1950s?”
“I know. It seems like he’s stuck there, and he’s not even that old. I have no explanation for it. He’s a dinosaur—there’s nothing I can do to change that. But what I was going to add was that while my father didn’t push me to go to law school, I have to admit that he probably has something to do with my wanting to be a lawyer. Although it may have more to do with my half brother, Aaron, Baxter’s original owner. Even though he was younger than me he always had such drive. He was planning to be a lawyer from the time he was ten and he made it sound so meaningful. He was going to practice some type of public interest law. That’s probably where my father’s influence played in. He made it clear that he thought it would be foolish to spend all that money on law school and then not make some of it back. I thought I’d do what Aaron had wanted to, but then when he died I ended up at the firm, and once I’d made that commitment I needed to make it work. I don’t want to think I’ve spent my life working toward something only to fail, but…And don’t think I haven’t noticed that we’re talking about me again.”
“I guess I won’t ask more about your brother, then.”
“I’d rather you didn’t right now. He died in a car accident. And it’s strange. Charlotte said something about a week or so ago about my not really knowing him, about how he would have ended up working for Dad too. But I can’t bring myself to think that’s true. He had such strong ideals.”
“I am not sure I understand, then, how his death got you to work for your father. I would have thought it would do the opposite.”
How did she put into words what she didn’t quite understand herself? “I know. I think partly I felt lost after Aaron’s death and I saw that my father was lost too. He’d always been so proud of Aaron, even when they didn’t understand each other. Maybe I wanted to replace him somehow.”
“But wouldn’t that have meant going to work for a nonprofit or something?” He was clearly perplexed.
“I don’t really have an answer. I just know that going to the firm is what felt right at the time. Maybe that’s why making partner has become so important to me. And maybe I do think Charlotte’s right that Aaron would have ended up running the firm. I know there’s no question my father would have left it to him.”
“So you’re trying to prove you’re as good as your brother?”
“Hell, I don’t know. I don’t like to think so, but there may be some element of truth to that. But I honestly don’t want to talk about it anymore. I don’t have answers to your questions. I think it’s time for you to tell me more about you and your mysterious plans.”
Brian’s shoulders rose again.
Was he hiding something? Was he in witness protection and hiding out from the mob? Is that why he was here and not working a real job? Probably not—she doubted he’d have such a family story if that was the case. “Do you not want to talk about yourself?”
He turned to face her fully. “No, I guess I’ve just put it off too long already and it makes it hard to start. There’s no big secret. It’s really not a big deal. You simply got the wrong impression and I chose to not correct it, and then wanted you to like me for me and not because of who I am.”
“Oh.” And that sure didn’t stop her curiosity.
“I’m—or I was—a goalie for the Mayhem.”
Chapter 17
Veronica stared at him in clear confusion.
He spelled it out. “I played professional hockey for an NHL team. I was the starting goalie. My leg got twisted during a game and my knee went out. It will never be the same again. I’ll never be able to play again. I’m staying with Aunt Mols because I needed to get away from my life and the smothering care of the people who love me—and walking dogs helped with rehab. It made walking a lot more fun.”
She continued to stare at him, really stare.
And stare.
And stare.
The silence began to eat at him. He started to talk again, unable to take the quiet. “It’s not that strange a story—and I never meant to keep it from you. I did tell the truth that I was taking a break from life. In my mind I was actually taking a B R E A K—as in bones—and yes, that’s a bad joke. I was surprised that you didn’t recognize me, and that even after all this time nobody has told you. I wasn’t truly famous, but in this area, a lot of people knew who I was. I’ve never hidden who I am, I just don’t brag. I get so tired of talking about it, particularly when people want to know about the injury and when I’ll play again. I hate the look of pity they get as they act like my life is over.”
That made her blink. “I certainly don’t believe that. You seem very full of life.”
“Thanks—I guess.”
“You must think I’m a fool, however,” she continued. “Assuming you were only a dog walker. It never did seem right—but I didn’t question it. You must be set for life—unless you’re one of those players who blew all his money. Oh, I don’t mean that. I’m sure you’re not. I mean, you’re too smart—” She shut her mouth suddenly, as if realizing there was nothing appropriate to say.
“I don’t take offense. I knew enough kids who got their first decent check and thought it would last forever. But I’m also not quite set for life. I only played a few years after my rookie contract.”
“I’m not quite sure what that means.” She did look a little baffled.
“During the first few years, you play for a fixed starting salary. It seems like a lot of money to most people, but it goes fast, particularly if you’re young and foolish. And if you’re looking at how short many hockey careers are, it certainly doesn’t leave you set for life—but when you’re young, it’s hard to believe you won’t be playing forever.” He looked down at his knee. “Sometimes it seems like if you budget and prepare, you’re actually planning on only playing for a little while.”
“I can see that. But you made it past those first couple years.”
He turned his head and gazed out the window. “Yes, but not by long enough. I had a decent contract—enough that, I admit, if I wanted to live in the middle of nowhere and eat ramen and beans, I might not have to work again. But that’s not who I am.”
“Which is why you walk dogs to earn extra?” He’d expected a bit of bite to her tone, but she sounded calm, maybe too calm.
“I didn’t plan on that. I just wanted to be away, and I had memories of summers here with Aunt Mols. And I knew she’d take me in. It seemed like a great escape—and then I discovered that I honestly love walking dogs. They don’t judge you.”
Her face was very still—not frozen, but he didn’t know how to read it. She stood suddenly. “Why don’t you put the steaks on while I check the potatoes.”
He knew she was looking for time, for a chance to process everything. At least she was still suggesting they eat together, not hinting that he should leave.
* * *
—
Veronica didn’t know how to react, didn’t even know what she was thinking. Of everything she’d imagined, she’d never come close to this. It shouldn’t make a difference. Over the past weeks she’d come to know and like him for who he was, not what he did. So why should it matter now?
She knew next to nothing about sports—which should be abundantly clear by now—but she had to think he had enough to do more than eat beans and ramen. He certainly hadn’t spent it all on fancy clothes or flashy cars. At least she didn’t think so. Poking a fork into the potatoes, she asked suddenly, “Do you gamble or take drugs?”
He stopped in the patio doorway, the
plate of steaks in his hand, looking aghast at her question—as well he should—but her mind was barely working, so it was lucky she was speaking at all.
“No,” he said after a bit. “Why would you even ask?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. The thought popped into my mind—as to why you’d need to live on beans. My filter is clearly not working—not that it ever works well around you. I think I just don’t know how to react. This shouldn’t change how I see you, see us, but somehow it does.”
“I thought you’d be shocked—but then happy. Be glad that I was someone more suitable, someone your father might even like.”
Her head came up. “God, I am not even thinking about that. I am just feeling confused. It shouldn’t change how I see you and yet somehow it does. And I’m not sure it’s a good difference, that I like you having a real career.”
“What? I’m not sure I understand.” And he truly did sound confused, but then, she was confused too.
“I guess I’d reached a point where I thought I had started to figure out our relationship—or whatever we call it—and now I’m sort of thrown for a loop. And it sounds horrible, but I think I was actually liking being the one in the relationship with the power. God, I shouldn’t be talking before I’ve thought this all out. I am sounding like a horrible person and I don’t mean to—I guess I’m not sure how I am supposed to feel.”
She could feel his body stiffen even though she wasn’t looking at him. “And what do you mean by that?”
God, she really didn’t need to be trying to reassure him. “I just mean that when you were somebody who wasn’t taking life seriously, it was easier to…to think what I wanted was more important—my schedule, my needs—and somehow that let me cling to the idea that this”—she gestured back and forth between them—“was mostly about sex. It let me pretend.”
He put the steaks down and walked toward her. “And you’re admitting that it’s something more?”
Fuck. Her head was spinning. “I’m not saying that, but hell, I also can’t deny facts. We may be having a lot of great sex, but I’ve never had a fuck buddy make me steaks for dinner—and no, I’m not saying that I’ve had a ton of fuck buddies, only that this relationship is not at all what I had mapped out in my mind when we began it—not that it ever was—and now I don’t know what to think. You’re some famous sports guy and I am just a woman who’s still trying to fill her dead brother’s shoes.”
“I certainly don’t agree with that. You’re a woman who needs to figure a few things out—and I’ve certainly got my own share of that too. I am now realizing that I reacted so badly to your not wanting to be seen with me because I was concerned that was what the rest of my life would be like. I mean, I worried nobody would ever look at me the same again, so I was really ready to react. And I think you should realize that I certainly didn’t intend to be starting something either. I may not be the guy who doesn’t take life seriously, who has no idea how he’s going to support himself, and who depends on his elderly aunt for help, but that doesn’t mean I was looking for more than fun.”
Her head jerked up.
He leaned over and kissed her lightly. “But that doesn’t mean I am not feeling whatever this is too.” It was his turn to gesture between them. “But now I am going to put those steaks on and then we are going to eat. And then we can talk, because you’re not the only one who’s feeling a little confused.”
“Okay.” She stepped back, wishing she understood exactly what…Damn, she wished she understood any of this.
A few minutes later the steaks were done and Brian cut the meat into slices before placing it on plates and topping it with the compound butter he’d picked up at the town’s deluxe grocery.
Veronica added the salad and potatoes and they sat at the table and stared at each other.
Brian wanted to pretend that it was memories of everything that had happened there that held their attention, but he knew better.
Veronica cut her meat and took a small bite. She didn’t say anything.
“Is it good?” he asked. That was an easy way to start conversation.
“Delicious.”
Well, that wasn’t much of a start.
He pulled in a deep breath, let it out. “I meant what I said about not looking for a relationship. I may have wanted a little more than you, but I was just looking for fun too.”
“Okay.” She was not making this easy, although he didn’t blame her. She still looked slightly dazed.
He continued. “I wasn’t looking for a relationship—and particularly not with someone who wants to stay here. I mean, I’m enjoying Forbidden Cove, but it’s certainly not where I plan to make my life.”
* * *
—
And that was something she hadn’t even considered. She’d been too distracted by how he fit into her life to even wonder how she might fit into his. It was one more reason to have been comfortable with him being a dog walker, someone where her career and wants would come first.
Her face fell into her hands. Was she really such a selfish bitch? She didn’t think she’d always been, but she certainly felt like one now. She should be delighted, and all she could think about was how this would change things, change them in ways she wasn’t sure she liked. “Maybe you should go home.”
“I don’t think that—”
She cut him off. “It’s all coming out wrong again. I suddenly feel exhausted and I don’t know how to respond. I know this shouldn’t be a big deal, but somehow it has me feeling unsteady. I honestly think I should be alone until I have my feet under me again.”
* * *
—
Brian wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He wanted to have it out now, but he did understand her reasons for wanting longer to figure it out. He had to admit that this conversation was bringing up issues he hadn’t even considered. “I’d rather talk now. I hate letting problems simmer, but I also don’t want to push you.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “Your mother really is a therapist, isn’t she?”
“Yes. And she’d be horrified that I let this develop. I should have spoken up right away. There truly wasn’t a reason not to.”
“I can’t believe I even considered you were nothing but a dog walker. Fuck, I don’t mean nothing, your being a dog walker was fine with me.” Her head fell in her hands again. “I feel like such a fool—and a bitch. Can I be a foolish bitch?”
He stood, looked down at his half-finished steak. This had not gone at all as he’d wanted. A part of him had honestly hoped that she’d react with joy. “I’ll go, then.”
“That would be best.” She did not look up.
“Do you want me to walk Baxter before I go?”
Still she did not look at him. “No, please, just give me time to think.” She sounded so tired suddenly.
He turned to leave, stopped. He really did want to turn and force her to work this all out with him. He still didn’t quite understand why it was such a big problem. Yes, there were issues, but they weren’t issues they couldn’t deal with. How could it be better to stew? In his family if there was a problem, there’d be a brief, but loud, argument and then everything would be resolved.
He sensed, however, that this was not the case with Veronica. He might hate this pattern of always putting things off, but if he pushed her, would he regret it?
Step by step, he quietly walked down the hall and out the door.
* * *
—
Veronica sat there quietly after he left. She still wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling—or why she was feeling it all so intensely. It was supposed to be just for fun—and fun shouldn’t leave her feeling this way.
Only it wasn’t just fun anymore. They might not have been together that many times, but right from the beginning she’d sensed that there was something differ
ent about him, something different about the two of them together.
She sat staring at her plate for a few more minutes, trying not to think, not to understand the thoughts that were slowly forming in her mind.
Standing, she picked up the plates and scraped the remaining food into the trash. Baxter rose to stand beside her, his expression making it very clear what he thought about wasted steak. Finishing the task, she served him his kibble and then went to fetch his leash.
If she kept doing things on autopilot, step-by-step, then perhaps she could avoid thinking about things until her subconscious had a chance to digest it all.
After the walk was finished, she moved up to the bedroom and got ready for bed with the same slow, methodical precision.
When she finally slipped beneath the sheets, alone, she had come to some decision. It still seemed so strange that his having had a real career made everything so much more complicated. If someone had asked her, she would have been sure it would make it easier. Was she like her father, looking for a relationship where she held all the power? She certainly wasn’t going to get that with Brian. He might be easygoing and looking for ways to help her, but she knew he could only be pushed so far.
Chapter 18
The next day was so busy she hardly had time to think. Several of the matters that Charlotte had pushed off on her were coming to a head, and Brooks had questions about the McKellan brief, apparently there were a couple of issues that Greg had neglected to tell her about. She actually banged her head on her desk in frustration more than once.
It would have been a rough day just dealing with her own work while trying to avoid dwelling on Brian, but with the addition of Charlotte’s, it was almost unbearable. Normally she liked being busy, but this was beyond busy. And there was nothing she could have done to prevent it.