“Hey.” He leaned on the boards, smiling at her. His brown eyes danced with a combination of contentment and mirth. He seemed perfectly relaxed.
“Hey,” she said back.
“Are you still mad at me?” His question was earnest, as if her answer really mattered. His boyish concern melted whatever frost remained around her heart after watching him skate with Macy.
“It’s hard to stay mad at you.”
“I do have a certain irresistible charm.” He blew on his knuckles and swiped them across his chest.
“I’m so glad humility is number one on your list of virtues.” Amelia rolled her eyes.
“Let’s not forget my extreme morality, penchant for following any and all rules no matter how stupid, and my chaste behavior.”
“Yes, let’s not forget, especially your chastity.” Amelia laughed, and Brick joined in.
He leaned in closer, his eyes darkening. “I wouldn’t mind being unchaste with you.”
She shook her head. “You never give up, do you?”
“Absolutely never. Keep that in mind.”
“You two looked good out there.” Amelia deftly switched the subject.
“I didn’t know she could skate.” He grimaced and dipped his chin, shrugging one shoulder.
“I’m guessing there are a lot of things you don’t know about her.”
“Yeah.” He hung his head for a moment.
“You should get to know her.”
“I know. Spare me the lecture.” He sighed, not sounding defensive, but weary. “Ready for another spin around the rink?”
“Hardly. I suck at this. I’ve already wiped out Rush once.”
“Only once? I swear I saw twice.” He chuckled.
“The second time doesn’t count. He was still trying to get to his feet after the first time.”
“I like your logic.” His hearty laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “How about we watch for a while?”
“I’d love that.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d had enough humiliation for one day.
Amelia eased down the bench to make room, and Brick sat next to her, their thighs touching. She tried to move away from the heat of his nearness, but he latched himself to her side.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily, especially after last night. I don’t want chastity to be one of my virtues.” His dark eyes held hers and wouldn’t let her go. She felt every part of him as if he were physically touching her naked, sweaty body while he thrust into her over and over. “I never give up. I always get what I want.”
Amelia swallowed and forced her gaze to the ice. He was blessedly silent, giving her time to regroup and gain her equilibrium. “She’s something, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. She could feel his eyes on her, not on Macy.
“You’re getting somewhere with her.” Amelia did her best to ignore the heat rising between them. She concentrated on the skaters, noting not one of them came close to her ineptness.
“Yeah,” he said distractedly, looking away from Amelia. His gaze followed Macy around the ice. She’d ditched Rush and skated off to race Matt’s two boys.
“She’s competitive,” Brick noted with a smile.
“Like her father?”
“Yeah, like me.” He spoke with a measure of something that sounded very much like pride. “Did you know she could skate?”
Amelia shook her head. “No, not a clue. It’s odd she never brought it up. She can be such a chatterbox at times and shuts down at others.”
“Is that normal?” he asked, as if he really wanted to know the answer.
“I wouldn’t be too alarmed by her behavior. She recently lost the two most important people in her life.”
“Her mother taught her to skate. She was a figure skater. A good one. Not Olympic level, but good for BC.” He spoke softly, still focused on Macy, but he reached out his hand and took Amelia’s, holding tightly as if she were his lifeline.
“So you do remember her?” Amelia didn’t jerk her hand away, even though she probably should have.
“Yeah, I do now.” Sadness permeated his voice.
Before she could respond, Macy skated over with Matt’s boys hot on her heels. Their father followed at a more leisurely pace. Face flushed and eyes bright, Macy stared directly at Amelia. “Can I play a game of hockey with them?”
“Ask your father,” Amelia said.
Macy frowned for a moment, then looked at Brick. “Can I?”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t hurt anyone.”
She giggled and raced off toward the net.
Matt grinned after the three kids, who’d picked up a few more young participants on their way to the middle of the rink. Coop and Smooth gathered them around to pick teams and referee the rowdy bunch.
Matt snorted. “They’re braver than I am.”
“No shit,” Brick agreed, and squeezed Amelia’s hand.
Matt’s gaze flickered to Brick’s and Amelia’s entwined fingers. He said nothing. He glanced back to the middle of the rink. “She’s a good kid.”
“Yeah, I’m finally figuring that out.” Brick nodded, wary and a little embarrassed.
“We should take the kids bowling some night. I’m always looking for something to do when I’m home with them that doesn’t involve listening to my mom lecture me on being a good father and finding them a mother.”
Brick laughed. “Sounds like my mother. Glad it’s you and not me.”
“So, you game?”
“Sure.” Brick didn’t appear to be committing to anything, but he wasn’t ruling anything out, either.
Amelia sighed. She stared down at his big hand wrapped around hers and tried not to read much into it. He’d come a long way, but he had miles to go.
* * * *
After the skate, mountains of pizza boxes were delivered to the meeting room, along with soft drinks and salads. They finally arrived home mid evening. Macy’s eyes were drooping and her chattering about her new friends slowed to a few unintelligible words. Amelia helped her take a bath, then got her into her jammies, while Brick retreated to his living room to watch sports and gain back some equilibrium.
He’d managed to wriggle out of most of his daddy duties since the skate, but judging by the determined set of Amelia’s jaw, he wasn’t getting out of whatever she had planned next.
Amelia handed the children’s book to Brick. “Why don’t you read her a story? You can read, can’t you?”
He shot her an annoyed glance. “Of course I can read. First-grade level.” He reluctantly took the book from her hand. “Where the Wild Things Are?”
“I believe in kids being exposed to the classic children’s books.”
“My mom used to read this to me. It was my favorite.” He thumbed through the book, momentarily transported back to a simpler time.
“It’s her favorite, too.”
“Really?” he said softly, running a thumb over the worn hardcover. “It’s seen some use.”
“It was mine.”
He met her gaze, and something passed between them. He couldn’t explain what it was, only that it relaxed him, made him feel languid and mellow. As though he’d come home from a long, rough road trip only to find exactly what he needed right here waiting for him. He could stay in this spot forever, lost in eyes as blue and warm as a tropical lagoon.
“Go, read to her before she falls asleep.” She gave him a gentle shove. He blinked a few times and nodded.
Brick walked into his little girl’s room, feeling out of place yet right where he needed to be. He glanced over his shoulder. Amelia leaned against the doorjamb and gave him the thumbs-up. She loitered there, showing no signs of leaving, most likely ready to do damage control if he messed this up.
Macy hugged Simone to her and waited for her story. Brick lowered himself into the small chair, praying he wouldn’t break it and trying not to feel a little insulted when Macy frowned at him.
“Amelia says you like this book.”
“I do.” She lay back against the stack of pillows and watched him with intelligent brown eyes. He suspected she saw him for what he really was and worried he’d come up lacking.
Swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat, Brick opened the dog-eared book and cleared his throat. He began to read, his words stiff and stilted to his own ears.
Macy frowned, making a face he’d seen a thousand times in a bar when horrible karaoke singers belted out a song so awful it made his ears bleed.
“You’re just reading it,” she interrupted, wearing her pouty face.
“Isn’t that the idea?” He didn’t have a clue what the hell she wanted from him.
“Amelia does voices.”
“Okay.” Great, just great. He was expected to do sound effects? Brick did his best to create different voices. His animal sounds were decidedly lacking, causing Macy to shed the pouty face and giggle uncontrollably. He grinned. It was a small triumph but a pleasant one.
He read a half dozen more pages, getting into character more with each page he turned.
Macy’s eyes fluttered closed, and he tucked the comforter around her. He stared down at his daughter, his responsibility, leaned forward, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
It’d taken a while for the entire situation to sink in. He was still confused and mourning his old life, not that he’d exactly buried it yet, but he was adjusting to his new responsibilities, and at times, enjoying them. He walked out of the room, smiling. Amelia smiled back from her post at the door and followed him down the hall.
“You did good.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He poured them both a glass of wine and sat next to her on the couch. She scooted away from him, which he didn’t find much of a deterrent, but he let her have her distance for now. Much to his surprise, he needed to talk; sex could come a little later.
“I need to find out what happened to her mother.”
“It’d be a good idea. You have no clue?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Have you tried Googling her name?”
“Uh, no. I can’t remember it.” He racked his brain for her name.
“Let’s try to find it. She was a figure skater, right?” Amelia’s laptop was already in her lap and ready for action.
“BC champion.”
“Okay, that should be easy enough.” Amelia typed British Columbia figure skating champions and clicked on a link. “Is her name on here?”
Brick looked over the list. He didn’t need to look far. “Elizabeth Holtzer. That’s her.” He shifted uncomfortably on the couch and wiped his forehead with his palm. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”
Amelia typed Elizabeth’s name in the Search field and pressed Enter.
The search results filled the screen. Brick leaned closer to read them.
Elizabeth Holtzer of Vancouver, British Columbia, was killed by a drunk driver going the wrong way on the Mercer Street exit ramp. Ms. Holtzer was pronounced dead on the scene. Her four-year-old daughter survived the crash with only minor injuries.
Brick absorbed this piece of information. That was his exit.
She lived in Vancouver, but she’d been in Seattle, exiting the freeway using his off ramp.
She’d been coming to see him, and she’d brought Macy with her.
Chapter 13—Teamwork
Amelia studied Brick. He’d turned whiter than freshly fallen snow. With his tan, she wouldn’t have thought that was possible.
“Brick?”
He didn’t react. Only stared straight ahead.
“Marty?” She put a hand on his arm, and he jerked away from her. Rising to his feet, he shuffled zombielike out the glass doors to the deck. Amelia hurried after him. He slumped against the railing, his hands shaking, his eyes haunted.
“Macy’s mother was coming to see me. She was bringing Macy to meet me.”
“That’s your off-ramp.”
“She died on that ramp. Just before the preseason was to begin last year.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
Amelia squeezed his arm, wishing she could do something but knowing she probably couldn’t.
“I didn’t even know it. Why didn’t someone tell me?” He shook his head over and over, leaning on the railing and covering his face in his big hands.
Amelia approached him, placing a hand on his broad back. His big body shook. She rubbed his back in slow circles. “It wasn’t your fault, Brick.”
“I know,” came the muffled response. “But all the same, if she hadn’t been bringing Macy to meet me, she’d still be alive. That’s why Macy’s grandmother said what she said in her letter to me.”
“What did she say?”
“Her mother has gone to heaven, and that’s on you.”
“It’s not on you, Brick. Don’t blame yourself.”
He looked up at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “But it is on me. Someone came to the SHAC that day. Demanded to see me. Claimed she had information I’d want to know. Gave them her name. I told our security guys I’d never heard of her. They had to call the police to get her to leave. After that she must have decided to go to my house.”
“Are you sure it was her?”
“I think so.” He nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“How would she know where you lived?”
He shrugged. “Maybe hired a PI or something. Who knows? If I’d agreed to see her that day, she’d still be alive. I deprived Macy of her mother. And now all she has is a shitty father.”
“You’re not a shitty father. You’re learning. And furthermore, you didn’t contribute to her death. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Other than fucked so many women over the years that their names mean little or nothing to me.” His curled his lips in disgust.
She couldn’t argue that point, but she doubted he was an exception when it came to young, good-looking athletes with the world and women at their feet.
“Brick, you didn’t do this. You aren’t responsible.”
“I know that. Deep down, I truly do, but tell that to my heart, and tell that to Macy. Do you think she knows?”
Amelia shook her head. “She’s never said a word.”
“She has to remember the crash that took her mother’s life. Did you see that car? It was so crushed that there was no guessing what the make and model was.”
“Brick, don’t beat yourself up over this. I don’t think Macy blames you.”
“Are you so certain?”
She wasn’t certain about anything, but she doubted Macy would have kept quiet if she did blame him.
He straightened and met her gaze. Agony and self-loathing simmered in the depths of those deep brown eyes.
“Brick.” She reached out and touched his face. He laid his cheek against her hand and closed his eyes momentarily.
“I need you, Ammie.”
“I know.” She couldn’t refuse him, not with the raw emotion roughening his voice and the starkness in his eyes. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back inside, down the hall to his bedroom. She locked the door and turned to him. He stood in the middle of the room, glancing around as if to get his bearings.
Amelia captured his gaze and managed her best sultry smile. Once she had his full attention, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it aside, followed by her T-shirt. The anguish in his gaze slowly faded and was replaced by desire, hot and smoldering and needy.
He needed her.
His gaze settled on her bra, or more likely what was under it. He licked his lips and groaned. She winked, liking the power she had over him, and not the least bit repentant about seducing the bad boy. Maybe she would be later, but right now, this was the best idea she’d ever had.
To hell with her baggage and his.
They were two people seeking comfort in this moment, and they were going into this with their eyes open. At least, she was. And she suspected Brick’s eyes were always open. He expected nothing more than a hot lay, or did he? Had he changed? D
id she mean more than that to him?
Putting her hands behind her back, she unhooked her bra with a deft flick of her wrist and let it gently fall to the floor. Brick made an animal sound deep in his throat, something between a groan, moan, and growl, and sexy as hell.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
“Goddess,” she corrected as she sashayed toward him. With one gentle push on his chest, he sat down hard on the edge of the bed. He reached for her, but she sidestepped him.
“You’re my goddess.”
“I bet you say that to all your women.”
He rubbed his chin and pondered that for a moment. “Don’t recall, but right now the only woman I’m saying it to is y—” The words died to a strangled croak as she unzipped her tight jeans and shimmied out of them. She stood up straight, wearing nothing but a smile and her panties.
“Fuck.”
“We’ll get to that,” she quipped.
“Sooner rather than later.”
“Good things come to those who wait.”
“I’ve been waiting since the day I met you.”
Amelia gaped at him, but recovered quickly. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. I haven’t had sex since I met you.”
“Not even on road trips?” She couldn’t imagine he could be celibate for this long.
“Not even on road trips. Have mercy on me, sweetheart.”
Amelia was blown away. One hundred percent blown away.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the bed, straddling her in a sly move only a guy with a goalie’s reflexes and flexibility could accomplish. Imprisoning her wrists in one of his hands, he held her arms over her head.
“I have you right where I want you.”
“But you’re still wearing your jeans.”
He frowned, as if he’d forgotten that one little detail. “Damn.” He rolled off her and shucked his jeans and underwear. He leaped off the bed, opened a window wide, and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a discarded T-shirt. Whipping open the nightstand drawer, he rolled on a condom in record time and crawled on all fours across the mattress.
Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8) Page 15
