Crosscheck

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Crosscheck Page 19

by Rebecca Connolly


  “Yeah,” she replied around the lump in her throat. “Yeah, baby, I’m coming with you.”

  “It’s fine. It’s absolutely fine, no pressure, no worries. It’s fine.”

  “What are you whining about?”

  Zane looked at Rocco darkly. “Rock, I don’t like speeches.”

  Rocco rolled his eyes without any sympathy. “You lost, you get to make the speech. Just say, ‘Thanks for coming, thanks for your support, we hope this new team room brings the spirit of Northbrook back into the teams that come through here,’ then say something nice about Coach, and cut the stupid ribbon.”

  Zane raised a brow and turned to Trane in the limo. “You got a notepad or something? I want to get that down before I forget it.”

  Trane grunted a laugh and smacked his hand away. “Just pretend it’s reporters instead of suits. Besides, we only have to stay an hour, then we’re off to birthday festivities, right?” He looked around the limo at the rest of them. “Right?”

  They whooped, and Zane shook his head, chuckling to himself. “What did you guys have in mind? And by the way, Hope is so excited.”

  “Hope’s excited?” Jax barked a laugh. “Dice can’t stop giggling, he’s so jazzed. It’s like the guy never had a birthday party.”

  Laughter filled the limo while Declan protested, and Zane felt himself relaxing slightly. He really did hate making speeches, always had. He could play hockey in front of thousands, could take postgame interviews without breaking a sweat, but put him at a press conference or in a suit at a podium and he forgot what words were.

  Since he’d lost at their late-night card game last night, Zane had been named their spokesman of the day, which the others were delighted about, and he would have paid any of them some decent money to do for him.

  Unfortunately, they all made just as much as he did, if not more, so they weren’t tempted by his numbers.

  He’d been trying all morning.

  He was actually getting ready to up the ante, come to think.

  “Are we there yet?” Rocco asked loudly, looking out the window.

  Being with these guys was ridiculous, without fail, but it was also a riot. He’d gotten in yesterday with Hope, while Mara was flying in this morning, and his daughter hadn’t stopped smiling since. The guys had insisted she come to dinner last night, and they’d all somehow managed to talk Trane into splitting a dessert with her.

  She’d come over to the facility with Mara a little later, but he wished they were with him now.

  He’d feel much more comfortable about a stupid speech with them there. Mara had a way of calming him down with just a smile or a look, and everything about Hope made him happier.

  Coach Fenwick was being honored at this event. Coach Fenwick, who had taken the time to talk Zane through his fears of his parents’ divorce. Coach Fenwick, who had never once made a comment about Zane’s size, good or bad, when it came to playing hockey. Coach Fenwick, who had found that extra gear in Zane’s athleticism that he hadn’t known he had.

  He had to make a speech honoring that man and dedicating the new team room named for him.

  No pressure or anything.

  He exhaled slowly as they pulled up to the Northbrook facilities, and Zane frowned as he looked out of the window.

  “Huh. It looks like nothing has changed.”

  For a beat, no one said a thing.

  “Come on,” Clint insisted. “The landscaping is totally improved.”

  “The birds’ nests are gone,” Declan remarked with a nod as he eyed the letters on the building.

  “Get out,” Jax insisted, pushing Rocco towards the door of the limo.

  A scuffle worthy of a group of nine-year-olds ensued as the six of them fought for the position of first to exit, and Trane won the spot, being the largest and toughest. Thankfully, the press weren’t waiting for them, so no one cared about their arrival.

  Once they entered the building, however, things were different.

  The six of them were immediately ushered up to the new team room, where Bree Stone and her small but mighty band of cohorts took charge. Bree might be Clint’s girlfriend, and one of Zane’s favorite people, but she didn’t mess around, and Darci, her PR associate, directed them all with a brisk efficiency that left no room for argument or question.

  Not that Zane would have argued or questioned. He’d love to have all of this over sooner rather than later, and if anyone could make that happen for him, he’d do whatever was asked.

  Darci and Bree were so efficient, as it happened, that the guys were set before anyone else was.

  Bree smiled at them all, shrugging. “Well, go ahead and have a look around, I guess. We’ve got a few minutes before we get going.” She gave Zane a look. “You did arrange for the little bug to come to this, right?”

  Zane threw his hands up in mock disgruntlement. “Does everybody want her to be here more than me?”

  “Yes,” at least four people said without missing a beat.

  Zane shook his head, then looked at Bree with a smile. “Yes, she’ll be here. Mara’s bringing her.”

  Bree’s eyes brightened, her smile turning wry. “Mara, huh? Can’t wait to meet her.” She turned and slipped her arm around Clint’s waist, walking away with him, Clint kissing the side of her head as they stole a moment.

  The action caught Zane in the center of his chest, somehow connecting with nerves in his left foot. He wanted that with Mara, wanted the easy comfort of being together no matter who was around. The natural draw towards each other, a gravitational pull filled with energy and tension, the warmth that came with breathing the same air and inhabiting the same space.

  They fit; that was the sense filling him at this moment. Clint and Bree just fit.

  Mara could be his perfect fit.

  He prayed like hell he could be hers.

  “Z! Get a load of this!” Jax called with a laugh.

  Zane shook himself out of his mooning stupor and ambled over to one of the photo murals on the wall. He chuckled almost immediately upon seeing it.

  He and Jax were maybe fourteen and roughly the same size, though Jax outweighed him by at least fifteen pounds, and their elite squad teammates were lined up with them. It was one of the intersquad games, so the other guys weren’t pictured, being the opposing line, but somehow it still managed to capture their energy and attitude.

  If punk fourteen-year-olds trying to look intimidating could have energy and attitude.

  Zane swore softly as his eyes traced over the faces of other guys they had once played with, guys he hadn’t thought of in years. “That feels like a lifetime ago, but I’m pretty sure I could recall every minute of that game.”

  “Same here.” Jax tapped the image of one of the guys in their lineup. “Ryan Waters. Remember him? He was supposed to be better than all of us put together.”

  “Jeez, I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” Declan commented as he came over. “How long has it been?”

  “Ten years,” Zane murmured, remembering all too clearly the day Coach Fenwick had come to practice with tears in his eyes to tell them Ryan had been killed in a car accident. They’d all worn the number seventeen for him in the next home game, and it had gone down in Northbrook history as the greatest game they’d ever played. It had also been the first game where Zane had collected more than one penalty and learned the value of working the crowd.

  Ryan would have loved that.

  A somber silence fell over them all as they stared at his picture together.

  “Hey, there’s my princess!”

  Zane blinked at Jax’s exclamation, turning to see who he meant. To no one’s surprise, Hope stood there in a bright-green dress, her hand tucked in that of a gorgeous woman in a long navy dress, belted at the waist, which gave her already perfect body some serious oomph. He couldn’t even see her legs, and his throat was going dry.

  Mara fidgeted with the scarf draped around her neck, her smile wavering as she glanced around the ro
om.

  “Uncle Jax!” Hope squealed, releasing Mara’s hand as she ran to Jax.

  He swooped her up and swung her around, then held her at his chest, giving her a serious look. “Now, who did you come here with, bug? I don’t know her.”

  “That’s Miss Mara,” Hope said at once, beaming a grin at her. “She’s my dance teacher, and I think she’s Daddy’s girlfriend.”

  All of the guys snickered at that, and Zane shook his head with a sigh.

  Better make his mark, then.

  He strode over to Mara with a warm smile. “Hey, you.”

  Her relieved smile back at him was everything. “Hey, you.”

  He leaned down to kiss her cheek, slipping his arm possessively around her, tugging her close to his side. “You okay?”

  She nodded, her blue eyes bluer than he could ever remember seeing. “Much better now that you’re here.”

  “Mara,” Jax said then, sticking his hand out with a grin. “Nice to see your face in person.”

  Zane glowered, but Mara only shook Jax’s hand, her mouth curving in a playful smile. “Jax. I was told you’re not my type.”

  One of the guys choked on a laugh, but Jax’s eyes only narrowed at them both. “Really? And?”

  Mara didn’t respond right away, but she shook his hand once more. “He was right.”

  “Shots fired!” Rocco bellowed while Declan and Trane only laughed in near hysterics.

  Zane kissed Mara’s cheek again, sliding his lips to her ear. “That’s my girl.”

  She slapped his back, her cheeks turning pink but her smile tempting him to say more.

  So much more.

  “Okay, guys,” Bree announced as she reentered the room with Clint, Coach Fenwick behind them. “Ready?” She stopped at seeing Mara, then grinned. “You’ve got to be Mara.”

  Mara’s smile turned hesitant again. “Guilty.”

  “You’re coming with me.” Bree looped her arm through Mara’s, pulling her from Zane. “Come on, bug, we’re going over here, okay?”

  “Okeydoke.” Hope nearly hopped out of Jax’s arms and took Bree’s free hand as she led them over to the other side of the room.

  “Yeesh,” Zane muttered, watching as Bree chatted with Mara out of his earshot. “That makes me nervous.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Clint laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “My girlfriend is not that nosey.”

  Zane gave him a sidelong look. “And mine isn’t that open.”

  Clint shrugged. “No worries then.” He pushed Zane forward, towards the reporters now filtering into the room.

  Showtime.

  Zane forced a smile, shook Coach Fenwick’s hand, and nodded at whatever his coach said, though he didn’t actually take any of it in. He was too busy fighting the urge to check the position of his hair, the band in it suddenly feeling like a snake strangling the life out of him.

  He turned to the reporters and cleared his throat. “Good morning,” he announced as he folded his hands loosely before him. “Thank you for coming today.”

  The reporters all kind of nodded, turning on their phones or mics, photographers snapping a few pics early.

  “The six of us,” Zane went on, gesturing to their group, “and every other proud Sabercat that has ever sat in this room before, are thrilled to have the support of the community and our new sponsors to make this renovation possible. It seems only right to dedicate this new team room to the man who has dedicated his life and his career to furthering the development of hockey players here at Northbrook.”

  Zane paused and turned to smile at Coach, standing next to him with an almost sheepish expression. “Coach Fenwick and his impact on Northbrook Hockey are legendary, and there is no one who deserves this honor more than him. It is our hope that in his name, in his honor, every future Sabercat entering this room will feel the pride, the power, and the privilege that it is to be among us, and they will know that they carry with them the support of us all. Thank you very much.”

  Applause filled the room and Zane stepped forward to shake Coach Fenwick’s hand, smiling in surprise when Coach pulled him in for a quick hug.

  “Thanks, Z,” the older man grunted. “Thanks for being here.”

  Zane patted his back. “Wouldn’t miss it, Coach. You deserve this.”

  Darci stepped forward with a pair of shears and directed Zane to one of the doors, where a green-and-white-striped ribbon was tied. Biting back a sigh, Zane posed with the club president, Mr. White, and Coach Fenwick for a few pictures, then snipped the ribbon to the general applause of reporters, sponsors, and whoever else had showed up. He handed the shears to Darci with a nod, waved to the cameras, then turned back to the guys.

  “So moving,” Trane muttered through a smile. “Really.”

  “They’ll be making motivational videos from that any minute,” Rocco added.

  “Shut up,” Zane snapped before turning around, clapping his hands on the shoulders of them both for a few more photos.

  “Three on three after this?” Clint asked, somehow without moving his lips.

  “Nah. I got my girls here.” Zane glanced over at them both, winking.

  His daughter stood in front of Mara, whose arms were draped over her shoulders and holding her hands, swinging them back and forth in the air. She grinned at Zane and looked up at Mara, pointing at him. He saw Mara’s smile spread and felt his own smile do the same.

  It was an automatic response. Mara just made him smile.

  “Right, we done?” Zane said suddenly, returning his attention to the photographers. Without waiting for a response, he looked over at Bree. “Bree, we good?”

  Bree gave him a thumbs-up, grinning knowingly. “Good, thanks, guys.”

  Zane nodded and moved away from the guys to scoop up Hope and take Mara’s hand. “Come on. We’ll take a quick tour of the place, and then . . . it’s somebody’s birthday, so we’ve got some celebrating to do!”

  Hope gasped and took Zane’s face in her hands. “Really, Daddy? Can we?”

  “Yesh,” he said though squished cheeks. “I fink so, but I can’t feew my faesh.”

  Hope giggled and released his face. “You’re a dork, Daddy.”

  “I know.” Zane grinned and turned her to face the guys. “We ready, boys?”

  Declan whooped and came over with a clap of his hands, opening his arms. “Uncle Dice wants to be your tour guide, Hope. You good with that?”

  “Yay!” Hope cheered and extended her arms towards him, making Declan laugh as he took her from Zane’s hold. “Let’s go!”

  Never one to bypass an opportunity, Declan immediately turned and strode for the door, tickling Hope as he went, the other guys following them.

  “Wow,” Mara murmured, her fingers rubbing across his in their hold. “They really do love her.”

  Zane snorted softly. “Yeah. And they won’t waste a moment turning her against me, so let’s catch up.” He started for the door, tugging Mara behind him, her snickers making him laugh as well.

  Their group wandered around the entire facility, with Bree joining them about halfway through. Hope laughed the entire time, thanks to the stories, antics, and commentary from her uncles, so he didn’t have to worry about her for a second, leaving him to focus more on Mara. She was quiet but stayed close to him, smiling and letting him tell her anything and everything about Northbrook. She took it all in, asking only a few questions, but aside from her hand constantly being in his, he wouldn’t have known she was there had he not seen her.

  “You okay there?” Zane asked finally as they headed to the car after the impromptu tour finished. “You’re not saying much.”

  Mara smiled up at him and pulled his own move on him, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face and stroking his cheek in the process. “I’m fantastic,” she assured him as she sent a jolt of sensation up his spine. “I feel like I just watched home videos from your childhood, and I find you absolutely adorable.”

  He chuckled and tugged
her closer, leaning down to brush his nose against hers. “How adorable?”

  She pressed up to her toes and kissed him softly. “Very.”

  “Hey, lovebirds, let’s go!” Rocco bellowed. “Hope picked a birthday venue, and we gotta change!”

  “Change?” Zane repeated, frowning at his friend as he stood by the cars. “For what?”

  “The arcade, Daddy!” Hope beamed at him from the limo. “Uncle Jax says it’s the best!”

  Zane groaned under his breath, shaking his head. “Well, if Uncle Jax says so . . .”

  Mara nudged him, laughing. “Stop. It’ll be fun. Look how happy she is.”

  He could see how happy his daughter was and knew how much fun something like this could be for her. Truth be told, he was touched. It was one thing for him and Mara to give up their night in the city for Hope’s birthday, but these five guys, and Bree, were willing to do the same. Not many people would choose to spend their time with a newly minted six-year-old girl, but they were.

  It was incredible, and as Hope’s father, he was touched.

  “Let’s go, babe,” he murmured to Mara. “This could be gold.”

  Only an hour later, their group pulled up to a Jax-approved location, and Zane burst into laughter at seeing it.

  “What?” Mara asked as the others joined in.

  “Rally-Kats was the token location for all of our team celebrations when the season ended,” Zane explained. He climbed out of the car and offered her a hand, pulling her flush against his side and draping an arm around her shoulders as they headed for the entrance, Hope riding in style on top of Trane’s shoulders.

  Mara looked at the building in surprise. “This place? Really?”

  “Oh yeah,” Clint told her as he came alongside her, Bree’s hand in his. “Pizza parties were nothing unless they happened here.” He laughed at Mara’s dubious expression. “I promise, they’ve updated the place since we were here last.”

  “Who cares?” Jax turned around to walk backwards, grinning at Mara. “I bet I can beat you in Pac-Man, Mara Matthews.”

  A burst of pride lit up Zane’s chest as Mara’s brows snapped down at the bet. “You’re on, Jax. I own you.”

 

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