Playing His Part: A York Bombers Hockey Romance (The York Bombers Book 7)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  But she couldn't. Not yet. Not until she told him everything. And then...

  He might never hold her again.

  It was a chance she had to take. Better to tell him the truth and find out now that he wanted nothing to do with her than lie and lose her heart later.

  "Natalie? Was that the only reason? To get away from your ex?"

  "Yes, but..." Her voice trailed off as she searched for the words. Did she imagine it, or did Ben tense at her hesitation? She risked another glance at him then quickly looked away as a sudden chill gripped her. No, it wasn't her imagination.

  "Brandon and I dated on and off for a few months. I, um, I hadn't seen him for almost two months when he showed up and asked me to go to Vegas with him." And, like the fool she was, she'd fallen for his slick charm and dropped everything to go with him. "We were there for two days before I realized what he was doing."

  "What was he doing?"

  Natalie kept her gaze focused on the toes of her shoes. She couldn't look at Ben, couldn't even think of looking at him. Not now.

  "He was running a con. Not a very successful one, either." Because whatever Brandon tried usually blew up in his face and she knew it—which was why she should have known better. Which was why she should have left as soon as she found out.

  "You turned him into the police because he was running a con? And they actually locked him up for that?"

  It would be so easy to say yes. To leave it at that and hope Ben's curiosity would be satisfied and he'd drop the whole thing. And maybe he would. Maybe that would be enough.

  But she couldn't, because it wasn't enough for her. Not anymore.

  "No, that wasn't why."

  "Then why?"

  Natalie sucked in a deep breath, her lungs shuddering with the force of her exhalation. "He got pissed when the con wasn't working. Really pissed. I was waiting for him in the bar and he came in. I didn't notice him at first because some guy was trying to pick me up. It wasn't until the guy left that I realized Brandon had lifted his wallet."

  "So you're telling me he was a pickpocket?"

  "Yeah...except it wasn't just that once. He, uh, he started to use me as a distraction. To, you know, get some guy's attention while he grabbed what he could."

  There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of Ben's shoes scraping across the floor as he uncrossed his feet then crossed them again. "He forced you."

  "Forced." Natalie laughed, the sound short and bitter. She hadn't known what Brandon was doing, not at first, not for certain. But she had suspected—and that made her just as guilty. "I—I think I knew what he was doing but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't think he would be that stupid or that I could be that gullible. But by the end of the night...yeah, I knew."

  Ben shifted again. When he spoke this time, there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there moments ago. "And you still went along with it?"

  "No." Which was the truth, not that it mattered. She almost stopped there, realized that telling him the rest wouldn't matter. In his eyes, she was a thief.

  And he was right. She had suspected—maybe more than suspected—what Brandon was doing but she chose to ignore it. That made her an accessory.

  "When I knew for certain, I left and checked into another hotel. But I knew Brandon would try again, by himself or maybe he'd find some other woman to use. And I knew where he was planning to go. So I called the police and the casino and gave them an anonymous tip then went there myself to see if they'd pick him up. They did."

  Natalie shifted under the heavy silence that settled over the room and wondered if it was possible to suffocate from the weight of air. She dragged in one breath, then another and another.

  "And you thought he'd somehow find out you were responsible and come after you?" The cold edge in Ben's voice softened.

  "No, I knew he'd find out—but not because of that."

  "Then why?"

  Natalie shrugged, wondered if she had already said too much. Not that Ben believed her. She was an unwitting thief who'd told one too many lies in her life. Not to him, not directly, but he had no way to know that.

  "Why, Natalie?"

  "Because after they arrested him, I went back to his hotel. To his room—I still had a key—and found all the money he'd stolen, plus some I didn't know he had. And I took it."

  "You took it?"

  "Yeah. That's where I was coming from when I ran into you."

  "And you think he'd notice the money was missing?"

  Natalie's head snapped up at the tone in Ben's voice. Not disbelief, not humor, but something similar. Not only did he not believe her, she was positive he thought she was exaggerating and adding an unnecessary dramatic twist to the story.

  "Brandon will never be accused of being very smart but even he would notice if five thousand dollars disappeared."

  Ben's eyes narrowed, either at the sharp tone of her voice or at her words. Maybe both. His mouth opened. Snapped shut. Several long seconds went by before he opened it again.

  "Five thousand dollars?"

  "Yeah."

  "And you just took it?"

  "Yes."

  "You were walking around with five thousand dollars. In cash. In Vegas."

  "I wasn't walking around. I was having a drink with you."

  "Not all night, you weren't. Shit. Natalie, do you have any idea what kind of risk you were taking? What if someone saw you with the money? Someone could have mugged you. Or...or—"

  "I wasn't exactly flashing it around. I stole it, remember?" She winced as the words fell from her mouth and immediately wished she could take them back. Yes, she was a thief, had already admitted it. There wasn't any need to remind Ben of that fact.

  She dropped her gaze and ran a shaking hand through her hair. How long before he stormed out of the kitchen? Seconds? Minutes? How long before he told her to pack her bags and get out? She waited to hear the words, knew now that a piece of her heart would die when they finally came.

  "Where's the money now?"

  "Gone."

  There was a long pause, filled with what could only be surprise. "You went through it already?"

  "What?" Her head snapped up again. "No. I didn't spend it—I donated it to a woman's shelter. That same night, after you dropped me off at my hotel."

  "You donated it?"

  "Yeah."

  "You didn't keep any of it for yourself?"

  "No. I told you, it was stolen. I stole it. But not because I wanted to keep it. I just...I didn't want Brandon to have it."

  The silence stretched around them again, pulling her nerves so tight she was sure they'd snap. Ben was silent—too silent. And then he laughed. Just a chuckle at first, the sound muffled behind his hand. The chuckle grew louder, turning into a full laugh. He dropped the hand from his mouth and held it against his side as he leaned against the counter.

  And kept laughing.

  Natalie stared at him, unable to say a word. Shock and anger and anxiety mingled together to render her mute.

  He was laughing? But why? Did he really care so little about her that he could find humor in what she'd told him? Or maybe he was laughing at himself, for being so stupid as to rush into a marriage with someone who was no better than a thief.

  That made more sense...but it did little to ease the fear and anxiety tearing her apart.

  She lowered her gaze. Closed her eyes. Waited for Ben's laughter to stop. Because it would stop. And when it did, he'd come to his senses and tell her to leave.

  A minute went by, then another before the laughter finally faded. She heard his steps against the cold tile as he moved across the kitchen, sensed his presence as he approached her. Felt the heat of his body and caught a faint hint of the mingled scents of his woodsy-herbal soap and something else that was pure male, pure Ben. The heat of his hand under her chin scorched her flesh as he tilted her head up. She kept her eyes closed, couldn't bear to see the censure in his gaze as he looked at her.

  "Natalie."

/>   That was all he said, just her name. That was all it took for her eyes to open against her will. But it wasn't censure she saw in his deep gaze, it was humor—and something that might be admiration.

  Or it could be nothing more than her imagination, desperate to see what she wanted to see.

  He didn't say anything for a long minute, just watched her with those mesmerizing eyes. Then he lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers in the softest of kisses. She stiffened, pulled away and frowned at him.

  "Why did you kiss me?"

  "Because you're my wife."

  "I'm a thief."

  "No, Natalie, you're not."

  "But I am. I'm just as guilty as Brandon because I suspected what he was doing and didn't do anything to stop him."

  "That doesn't make you a thief."

  "But I was there—"

  "You reported him."

  "I stole the money from his room."

  "But you didn't keep it."

  "I still stole it."

  Ben shrugged and brushed another quick kiss against her mouth. "And you gave it away. That makes you like Robin Hood."

  "I didn't give it away because I was feeling generous—I gave it away to get back at him."

  Ben chuckled again then brushed another soft kiss against her lips. "Doesn't matter."

  Natalie frowned, fought against the first glimmer of hope that broke through her carefully-constructed walls. "You don't think I'm a thief?"

  "No, I don't. I think you got caught in a bad situation and handled it the best way you knew how at that moment."

  "But Brandon knows I stole the money. He's going to figure it out."

  "I doubt it." He kissed her again, a little longer this time. "I'm sure the police searched his room. And if they didn't, the hotel staff would have packed everything up once he missed his check-out date. Anyone could have taken it, he'll have no reason to think it was you."

  "Oh. I didn't think of that." Natalie sagged against the refrigerator. Not in relief but in guilt as another thought rushed through her mind. She gasped and nearly choked on the short rush of air.

  "What is it?"

  "That means we didn't have to get married."

  Ben jerked back as if she'd slapped him. "What?"

  "If there's no way for Brandon to find out I took the money, I don't have to worry about him coming after me. It means we didn't have to get married." Natalie swallowed back her guilt—and her sorrow. "It means we don't have to stay married."

  "Bullshit." The word fell from Ben's lips with such vehemence that she actually jumped. He braced both hands against the refrigerator, one on either side of her face, and leaned in. "We're married—and it's too late to do anything about it."

  "But—"

  "No buts." He dipped his head and caught her mouth with his in a searing kiss that made her cling to him. He pulled away moments later, his breath as shallow and ragged as her own. "Stay here."

  She wanted to ask him why but couldn't catch her breath in time and then it didn't matter because he was gone. She pushed away from the refrigerator, tried to steady herself and calm the frantic beating of her heart. Then he was back, a small gift bag held in one hand. He held it out to her, his face expressionless.

  "What's that?"

  "It's yours."

  "But—" Natalie stared at the bag then looked at Ben. "What's it for?"

  One corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "It's for you. Now open it."

  Natalie hesitated, finally reached for the bag and stared down at it. She glanced at Ben when he made an impatient sound then carefully removed the tissue paper. A wad of material rested at the bottom of the bag and she reached for it, slowly pulled it out.

  Tears filled her eyes when she realized what it was. A Bombers jersey, with Ben's last name stitched in large block letters above the number 33. Natalie blinked back more tears and finally looked at Ben—and her heart melted at the shy grin on his face. "It's your jersey."

  "Yeah. I figured it was about time you got one. You know, since we're married." The shy grin faltered, replaced by uncertainty. "You don't have to wear it if you don't—"

  His words ended in a surprised grunt when Natalie threw herself at him. She pushed up on her toes and pressed her mouth against his before he could say anything else.

  And then there was no need for words.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "So I guess Ben was running a little late tonight."

  Natalie paused, the soda halfway to her mouth as heat flamed her face. She stared at Jenny, at the knowing twinkle in her eyes, then gaped at Haley. "You snitched!"

  The women laughed, even Cara, who was normally the quiet one of the bunch.

  Haley shook her head then held up her right hand in a mock oath. "I swear I didn't tell a single soul that I saw Ben flying out of the parking lot, half undressed, when I came to pick you up."

  Natalie's face grew even hotter at the continued laughter. Yes, Ben had been running late—a lot late because he had insisted on seeing her in the jersey...and nothing else. They'd lost all track of time until Ben looked over at the clock, let out a loud "Fuck!", and scrambled to get ready with a speed that astounded her. He'd run out the door, water dripping from his wet hair and his shirt untucked and only partially buttoned. The tie was haphazardly draped around his neck and his suit jacket was hanging from one arm.

  Yes, they had both been totally distracted and lost all track of time, making him late. Hopefully not late enough to get into trouble.

  And even though Natalie knew she should feel at least a little guilty...she didn't.

  She took a hesitant sip of her soda then carefully placed it back in the cup holder attached to the seat. "If you didn't tell, how did—"

  "Let's just say you have a certain, very satisfied glow about you right now." Jenny offered her an exaggerated wink. "Besides, Tyler sent me a text earlier asking if I knew where you were because Ben hadn't shown up yet."

  Natalie choked back an embarrassed laugh. Not so much at the fact that apparently everyone knew what they'd been doing, but from the knowing wink Jenny gave her. She did her best to ignore the embarrassment. So what if everyone knew? Ben was her husband. It was perfectly normal for them to spend time together.

  Her husband.

  Warmth filled her as she repeated the words to herself. Her husband. She had told him the truth about what happened in Vegas and he didn't care. He didn't consider her a thief even if she had taken the money from Brandon to get back at him. And he didn't seem upset at all when she had voiced the sudden realization that they didn't need to stay married, not if what he had said about Brandon never finding out she took the money was true. In fact, he'd been pretty adamant when he told her they were married and were going to stay that way. And then he'd given her the jersey and she had tried it on and...

  Heat of another kind filled her at the memory and she reached for the soda again, wondering if everyone would notice if she used the cold cup to cool her flushed face. Probably.

  Haley nudged her arm and leaned closer. A hint of curiosity flashed in the depths of the woman's hazel eyes. "By the way, nice jersey."

  "Oh. Thanks. Ben gave it to me tonight."

  "Yeah?" Haley lowered her voice, the curiosity growing just a little brighter. "Does this mean things might be a little more permanent between the two of you?"

  "I—" Natalie closed her mouth, suddenly unsure how to answer. Or maybe she was afraid to answer. What if she said yes and jinxed it? What if the past couple of weeks were nothing more than a novelty for Ben and he grew tired of having her around? He might change his mind, might decide that he'd done enough and ask her to leave.

  She didn't want to think that would happen. She wanted to believe that he cared about her, at least a little bit. It would be foolish to think he could ever love her, she didn't expect that. Natalie was a realist, knew better than to hope for something that would never happen.

  Except it was already too late
.

  The realization slammed into her, knocking the breath from her lungs. The cup started to slip from her grasp and she scrambled for it, catching it before it fell to her lap.

  No, she didn't expect for Ben to ever love her—but she had started to fall in love with him. Started? Natalie almost laughed. She had started weeks ago, maybe even before then. The final plunge, what had pushed her completely over the edge, had been that night in his bathroom, when he had confessed his insecurities to her.

  This afternoon had merely sealed her fate.

  Haley was still watching her, the curiosity changing to certain knowledge. Her smile grew wider and she sat back with a small nod. "I see. That's not such a bad thing, you know."

  Natalie opened her mouth to answer, to tell her it was the worst possible thing. To love someone who would never love you back? She didn't want that heartache, didn't want that disappointment.

  She didn't get a chance to respond because the music filling the arena grew louder. The lights dimmed and the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeaker. The crowd rose to their feet, cheering as the Bombers raced onto the ice. Natalie stood with everyone else, her eyes automatically searching for Ben.

  There he was, skating in a tight circle around the net before heading back to the bench. The lights came back up and she caught the expression on his face. The tightness around his mouth and his eyes and the angry way he gripped his stick.

  The way he dropped to the bench, as if he wanted to kick it with his skate instead.

  Natalie's heart sank when she realized he must have gotten into trouble for being late. If the stiff set of his shoulders and rigid line of his back meant anything, he must have gotten into a lot of trouble.

  She leaned forward, ready to ask Jenny what could happen to Ben for being late. He was on the bench so he was obviously playing. Maybe his coach had just yelled at him. But would that make him so angry? Jenny might know—

  She never got to ask the question because Cara spoke up, her quiet voice filled with curiosity and worry. "Where's Travis? I don't see him."

  Jenny glanced at the bench then turned to Cara. "He might not be playing tonight."