Sin Bin

by Maureen Smith

  She snorted. “Bugger off.”

  “Cynara,” Roxanne gently chided.

  “What? That sounds way more polite than ‘Go fuck yourself.’”

  Logan’s shout of laughter drowned out Roxanne’s shocked exclamations. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed sparring with Cynara. Her little jabs and barbs amused him. They were like kitten scratches that hardly drew blood. No matter how much she resented him, she never crossed the line. The only time she’d ever hit below the belt was after he’d broken her iPod when they were teenagers. In a fit of rage, she’d screamed that she hated him and wished he’d never intruded into her family. Her angry words had cut deep at the time. But other than that, she’d been relatively harmless.

  “I have to make some calls.” Sipping her wine, Cynara retreated to the other side of the suite with her phone to her ear.

  Logan grinned as he sat down beside Roxanne. “Is it just me, or is her British accent getting thicker?”

  Roxanne laughed. “It’s not just you. Her accent is definitely becoming more pronounced. She’s also using more British expressions.”

  “I noticed.” Logan snickered. “‘Bugger off’? ‘Heaps of dosh’?”

  Roxanne grinned. “I’m noticing it more and more every time we talk. When I picked her up from the airport yesterday, she called me ‘Mum,’ told me she was ‘knackered’ after her long flight and described someone as being ‘cheeky.’ Oh, and let’s not forget ‘bloody.’ I must have heard that word a hundred times before we got home.”

  As Logan cracked up laughing, Cynara grumbled irately from across the room, “I’ve been living in England for nearly a decade. Most of my friends and professors are British. Is it any wonder that I’ve picked up the accent and some common phrases?”

  Roxanne and Logan shared another look, laughing with their eyes.

  Roxanne was the closest thing he’d had to a mother since his biological mother ghosted on him. She’d welcomed him into her home and into her heart with open arms. She’d never treated him differently from her daughter. When she and Santino started having problems, she’d seen the worry in Logan’s eyes and assured him that nothing would ever change her love for him. One year later, she’d filed for divorce.

  He remembered creeping out of his room late one night and overhearing an argument between Roxanne and Santino. Roxanne was moving out that week and taking Cynara with her. To Logan’s surprise, she also wanted to take him.

  “The poor boy already lost one mother. I can’t let him go through that again.”

  “Then don’t leave,” Santino begged. “Stay with us.”

  “You know I can’t do that. Don’t ask me to.”

  “Then don’t ask me to give up custody of Logan! It’s bad enough you’re taking my daughter—”

  “Cynara belongs with me and you know it!”

  “And Logan belongs with me!”

  “Not necessarily—”

  “Ay, Dios mío!” Santino burst out in frustration. “What would you know about raising a thirteen-year-old boy on your own? A white boy, at that! Hell, your family doesn’t even like white people!”

  “What does that have to do with anything? I’m not asking them to raise him for me!”

  “Doesn’t matter! You’re not taking my son around—”

  “He’s my son, too!” Roxanne protested. “We both signed the adoption papers, remember? Logan needs a mother in his life—”

  “He needs a father just as much!” Santino shouted, pounding his fist on the kitchen counter. “Who’s gonna teach him how to drive? Who’s gonna give him dating advice? Who’s gonna give him the sex talk—”

  “Sex talk? As much as that boy has already been through—”

  Santino spoke right over her. “Who’s gonna take him to hockey practice and give him pointers on how to improve? Who’s gonna give him pep talks before a game? Who’s gonna teach him how to be a fucking man?”

  “For God’s sake, Santino! I’m not banishing you from his life! Just because I want him to live with me doesn’t mean you should disappear. I’d fully expect you to maintain an active role—”

  “An active role?” Santino fired off a string of rapid Spanish that was cut short by the sound of a loud smack.

  “Shut your mouth!” Roxanne raged at him. “How dare you? It’s your fault I’m leaving!”

  Santino banged his fist on the counter. “The boy stays with me, and I won’t hear another word about it!”

  Logan had crept back to his room, crawled under the covers and curled into a tight ball, heartbroken at the thought of saying goodbye to another woman he loved.

  But Roxanne hadn’t deserted him. After the divorce, she’d still attended his hockey games, waving homemade signs and cheering her head off every time he scored a goal. She’d kept him every other weekend unless he had a tournament out of town. She’d made his favorite dishes, rented his favorite movies and snuck him gifts the day after his birthday. She’d cried when he moved to Canada to play junior hockey at sixteen. And when he graduated from high school just days after her emergency appendectomy, she’d defied her doctor’s orders and traveled to Toronto so she could watch him walk across the stage, whooping and cheering loud enough to nearly rupture her stitches.

  “Logan?” The sound of Roxanne’s voice pulled him out of his reverie.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  She smiled. “I was just saying how excited I am about tomorrow’s game. We’ll be rooting you on—”

  “Speak for yourself,” Cynara interjected from across the room. “I won’t be at the game.”

  “But it’s the last game of the regular season,” Roxanne protested. “And it’ll be Logan’s birthday.”

  “Sorry. I have other plans.”

  Roxanne gave Logan an apologetic look.

  He chuckled. “No worries. Having you there will be more than enough.”

  “Don’t forget my family and friends are coming, too,” she reminded him. “It was very kind of you to rent a suite for us, but you really didn’t have to. We would have been perfectly fine sitting in the stands.”

  “I know, but it was hard getting good seats together for such a large group.” Logan smiled. “Everyone will enjoy the suite. The view is nice and you’ll get VIP service.”

  Roxanne gave him a loving smile. “Congratulations again on winning your division last night. I’m so proud of you boys.”

  “Thank you.” Logan chuckled. “It really came down to the wire.”

  “But you came out on top, and that’s all that matters.” Roxanne held up her glass for a celebratory toast. “To going the distance and winning the Stanley Cup.”

  Logan grinned. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”

  They enthusiastically clinked glasses and laughed, then swigged their wine.

  Cynara rolled her eyes at them before turning away to resume her murmured conversation.

  Roxanne patted Logan’s knee. “I was so glad when we got an expansion hockey team in Vegas. Now that you play here at least once a year, it gives me another chance to see you.” Her voice softened. “At the same time, I know how hard it is for you to come home.”

  “It is,” Logan admitted, lowering his eyes to his glass. “But it’s been…easier this time. Better.”

  “Really?” Roxanne looked hopeful. “You mean that?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh, baby, I’m so happy to hear that.” Roxanne gave him a warm, twinkling smile. “Any particular reason for the change?”

  The memory of waking up with Jupiter had him smiling from the inside out. He wasn’t a big fan of baring his soul and talking about his feelings. But he found himself wanting to confide in Roxanne. He knew she’d be thrilled at the prospect of him being in a relationship for the first time, and hearing a woman’s perspective might be really useful to him for future reference. But he didn’t want Cynara to overhear the conversation and start ragging on him.

  So he leaned toward Ro
xanne and murmured, “We can talk later.”

  A delighted gleam lit her eyes. “You mean you have something to tell me?”

  “Maybe.” He winked.

  She squealed and clapped her hands together, making him laugh as he speared a few pieces of fruit and stuffed them into his mouth.

  Roxanne dabbed at the corner of his lips with a napkin. “I know next year’s schedule hasn’t been released yet, but it would be wonderful if you guys were playing the Golden Knights around Christmas instead of having back-to-back games in Canada. I still feel bad that nobody was around for the holidays last year.”

  “You don’t have to feel bad,” Logan assured her.

  She kept going as if he hadn’t spoken. “It wasn’t right for us to leave you on your own. I mean, Santino was overseas scouting players, and Cynara and I went on that cruise—”

  Logan put his hand over hers. “Please stop apologizing. I told you I didn’t mind spending Christmas with Hunter’s family in Quebec. They have a nice place out on the lake. It was cool. Seriously.”

  “See, Mom?” Cynara crowed triumphantly. “Your precious baby boy spent the holiday with his bestie and had a blast. Now for the last time, stop trying to make me feel guilty for taking you on the cruise. We had a wonderful time, and it was just what you needed.”

  Roxanne threw her an exasperated look. “I never said I didn’t enjoy myself, nor am I trying to make you feel guilty. And why do you keep butting into our conversation? Aren’t you supposed to be on the phone?”

  “I’m on hold,” Cynara said in a snotty voice.

  Shaking her head, Roxanne turned back to Logan and clasped his hand between hers. “I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere for Christmas this year. You know how much I enjoy spending the holidays with you, whether we’re here or in Denver. As much as I love that big, beautiful house you bought me, I appreciate it the most when it’s filled with the sounds of laughter and music during Christmastime.” There was a twinkle in her eyes. “If there’s someone special you’d like to bring home this year—”

  Her words were interrupted by a firm rapping at the door.

  Logan recognized the knock. He’d heard it many times when he was growing up. Judging by the tense glance that passed between Roxanne and Cynara, they also knew who the distinct knock belonged to.

  Logan gave Roxanne a gentle look. “Is it okay if I—”

  “Of course. He’s your father.” She set her lips and squared her shoulders.

  Bracing himself for anything, Logan put his glass down on the table and went to open the door. He grinned at the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood there. “You made it.”

  “Just barely.” Santino Tavárez laughed and gave him a manly backslapping hug. “I just got in. The flight was bumpy as hell.”

  Logan chuckled. “You only say that because you hate flying.”

  “Nah, it was bad. I’m lucky to be alive, trust me.” Santino tugged his tie loose. “I need a drink.”

  Before Logan could warn him that he had company, Santino shouldered past him into the suite. He pulled up short when he saw his estranged ex-wife and daughter.

  The three of them stared at one another.

  Cynara’s face was a stony mask.

  Roxanne looked grim and tense.

  Santino looked shaken to the soles of his Gucci loafers.

  Logan clapped his hands together, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Man, it’s good to have us all back together again. Feels like old times.”

  Roxanne and Cynara exchanged a look that made it clear they didn’t share the sentiment.

  Santino gazed earnestly at his daughter. “Hey, baby girl. How’ve you been?”

  “Fine.” Cynara didn’t return the pleasantry by asking after his health. Not that anyone expected her to.

  “How’s school?” he persisted. “You’ll be getting that Ph.D. soon, won’t you? How’s your dissertation coming along?”

  “Fine.” Cynara offered no more.

  Santino forced a laugh. “I remember how stressed out I was when I was working on my master’s thesis. Whew. The struggle.”

  Cynara lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her wine.

  Santino swallowed hard and shifted his gaze to his ex-wife. “It’s great to see you, Roxy. You’re looking as good as ever,” he said, running an appreciative eye over her voluptuous figure. He’d always preferred women with meat on their bones. He used to tell Logan that he needed juicy flesh he could “grab and hang on to,” whether he had a woman beneath him or riding him.

  He divided a nervous smile between Roxanne and Cynara. “I didn’t even know you ladies were here.”

  Roxanne rose from the couch. “We were just leaving.”

  “Don’t leave on my account.”

  “We’re not. We’ve got some more errands to run.” Roxanne hugged Logan and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

  He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She finished her wine and picked up her purse.

  “I’ll walk you down to the lobby,” Santino offered.

  Roxanne looked like she wanted to refuse.

  “Please,” he said humbly.

  She hesitated, then turned and headed for the door. He went after her.

  When Cynara moved to follow her parents, Logan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Give them a minute.”

  Her dark gray eyes narrowed. She was a mama’s girl, fiercely protective of Roxanne.

  “Just chill with me for a sec.” Logan grinned lopsidedly. “I won’t bite.”

  She snorted. “I dare you to try.”

  He laughed at the threat.

  She glared down at his hand. “I suggest you remove that before you draw back a nub.”

  Logan laughed, shaking his head as he released her arm. “You can take the girl out of North Vegas…”

  She gave a haughty sniff and turned away, nose in the air. Her spine was so stiff it almost crackled.

  Grinning, Logan flopped back down on the couch, topped off his glass and downed the wine in one gulp.

  As Cynara pretended to study an abstract painting on the wall, he decided to attempt small talk. But after the way her poor father had crashed and burned, he figured he’d avoid asking her about school.

  “So how was Nigeria?”

  Cynara’s expression softened for just a moment before she shrugged a shoulder. “It was hot.”

  Logan gave her a wry look. He wasn’t fooled by her flippant response. He knew how much her advocacy work meant to her. He knew how many years of literal blood, sweat and tears she’d poured into helping Boko Haram kidnapping survivors.

  “C’mon, Duchess,” he said gently. “You know damn well I wasn’t asking about the weather. Tell me about—”

  She held up a hand. “I know you’re not just being polite. I know you genuinely care about those schoolgirls. But if it’s all the same to you, Logan, I’d rather not talk about anything heavy right now.”

  “Fair enough.” He leaned back against the couch, draping his arm across the top. “What would you rather talk about?”

  “I don’t know.” She joined him on the couch and poured herself another glass of wine. “Let’s talk about you.”

  His guard went up. “What about me?”

  She swirled her wine, admiring its rich color. “I never told you this, but one weekend when I was home, I saw your Meadow. Or at least I think it was her. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, obviously. But I’m pretty sure it was her because she was taking a bunch of foster kids to the planetarium.” Cynara smiled. “I looked out the car window, and there she was just skipping along and laughing with the children, looking like a black Mary Poppins.” There was no snark in her voice. Just warm amusement tinged with admiration. “I started to pull over and say hello to her. But then I changed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  Cynara shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling sociable.”

  Logan smirked. “Color me shocked.”r />
  She gave another shrug and sipped her wine, her eyes twinkling at him over the rim of her glass.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  Cynara lowered her glass. “She filled out nicely, your little Meadow. I bet you’re just loving all those sexy curves.”

  Logan couldn’t hide his grin. “I am, as a matter of— Wait.” His eyes narrowed. “How do you know I’ve seen her recently?”

  It was Cynara’s turn to grin. “Mom told me. Apparently she heard you give Meadow a shout-out after a game—”

  “Coño,” Logan muttered in exasperation. “Did everybody and their mama see that damn interview?”

  “Our mama did,” Cynara said with a snicker. “She called me up all excited, babbling about how she nearly fell out of bed when she heard Meadow’s name come out of your mouth. She deduced that you and Meadow must have recently reunited. She’s been dying to ask you, but she wanted to wait and see if you’d bring it up yourself. I know she could barely contain herself when you guys were sitting here and you promised to share some big secret later on. Just know she’s going to harass you until you pour out your heart to her.” Cynara chuckled. “She’s already counting down the days until you announce your engagement.”

  “Whoa,” Logan exclaimed. “Let’s not get carried away here. Meadow and I are just friends.”

  Cynara stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. I’m serious.”

  Cynara threw back her head and burst out laughing, holding her stomach like she’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. She had a nice laugh. Rich, warm and throaty. Too bad it was being unleashed at his expense.

  He glared at her. “What’s so fucking funny?”

  “You are,” she wheezed, dabbing at her watery eyes. “You are an absolute comedian, Logan. Seriously. What you just said was positively hilarious. I mean, c’mon, dude. Are you really going to sit there and pretend that you haven’t been carrying a torch for that girl since you were a prepubescent ten-year-old? Remember that misshapen little pendant she made for you? You used to wear it around your neck and sleep with it under your pillow every night. Remember that day you were playing outside and one of the neighborhood kids tried to snatch the pendant off your neck? You practically beat him to a pulp!”