“That’s very true,” Nadia agreed. “Lack of accessibility is a big issue, but there’s also the image factor. Most people I know identify hockey as strictly a Canadian sport, so that already makes it seem foreign. I was also surprised to read somewhere that the NHL audience is the richest of all professional sports, with one-third of viewers making more than $100,000. And, of course, we both know that white guys are the face of professional hockey. The minority players are few and far between.”
“Very true,” Dawn conceded, nodding. “That’s one of the main reasons Reid opened this community center—to make hockey more accessible to minority youth. He truly wants the NHL to become more diverse, and he’s doing his part to help make that happen. If more ice rinks begin popping up in urban communities around the country, it wouldn’t surprise me if we start seeing more black and Latino players entering the NHL over the next ten or fifteen years.”
“That would be great,” Nadia enthused. “I know my brother would certainly appreciate that. He’s always loved hockey and wanted to see more players that look like him.”
“He just might get his wish.” Dawn paused. “In time.”
Nadia smiled, watching as Reid laced up a pair of skates that had been provided for him. When he stepped onto the ice, a boisterous cheer went up from the crowd of children and parents.
He began skating around the rink with the kids, laughing warmly as they tried to impress him with their skating ability.
“He’s really good with children, isn’t he?” Dawn fondly observed.
Nadia smiled softly. “He certainly is.”
“They always love it when he comes for visits. He enjoys himself too.”
“I can tell.”
Dawn smiled at her. “I don’t know if you’re religious or not, so forgive me for speaking out of turn. But I truly believe that when you have a good heart and allow God to use you, He gives you abundant favor. I think Reid was meant to score his three hundredth career goal right here at home where his star was born, if you will.”
“You think so?”
“I do,” Dawn asserted. “I know Detroit gets a bad rap, but we’re good people. So when Reid scores that goal tomorrow night, don’t be surprised if those Red Wings fans give him a standing ovation.”
Nadia grinned. “Do you really think that could happen?”
Dawn gave her an enigmatic smile. “This is Detroit. Anything’s possible.”
Nadia’s grin widened. “I’ll remember that.”
Just then a freckled young redhead came up and murmured something in Dawn’s ear. She nodded and told the girl, “I’ll be right there.”
As the employee nodded briskly and walked away, Dawn turned back to Nadia and smiled. “I have to take an important phone call. But it was such a pleasure to meet you, Nadia.”
“You too,” Nadia said amiably. “Thanks for keeping me company. I enjoyed our conversation.”
“So did I.” With a twinkle in her eye, Dawn touched Nadia’s arm and pointed toward the ice rink. “You’ve got yourself a real good man over there. Hold on to him.”
“I definitely plan to,” Nadia said with an answering smile.
Dawn winked at her before leaving.
Slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans, Nadia ventured closer to the rink to observe Reid. He had taken a little black boy aside to coach him on how to skate backwards.
As she watched, Reid dropped to a crouch, bringing himself to eye level with the boy. As he gave him instructions, the young player listened intently and nodded, his small face a study of concentration.
When Reid stood and skated over to the boards, the boy followed him and then mimicked his movements, assuming a basic hockey stance with his knees bent, back straight and head up. Then Reid braced his hands on the boards, pushed his body away and smoothly glided backwards on the ice. After that quick demonstration, he and his young pupil performed the drill together. When the boy successfully skated backwards without stumbling, his whole face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“I did it!” he cried excitedly.
“You sure did.” Reid grinned broadly and gave him a high five. “Told you you could do it.”
When the boy beamed up at him, Nadia’s heart completely melted.
In a flash, she saw Reid coaching their own son, patiently teaching him how to skate and play hockey like his old man. The image filled her with such longing she had to catch her breath. God help her. She’d never wanted any man’s baby as much as she wanted Reid Holden’s.
As if sensing her thoughts, he suddenly looked up and met her eyes across the ice rink. When he winked, her stomach quivered. She could only smile weakly in response.
Before they left the community center that afternoon, Reid gave out autographed trading cards and posed for a bunch of pictures. He called Nadia over for a group photo with all of the children. When she walked up to him, he kissed her temple and curved an arm around her waist before the picture was snapped.
At Dawn’s request, he took some questions from reporters, keeping his responses short and to the point. Now that Nadia knew the history of his adversarial relationship with the media, she understood why he was so guarded and on edge as he faced the reporters. He still didn’t trust them, and it showed in his rigid body language.
As Dawn was escorting Reid and Nadia across the atrium toward the exit, a lone voice called out, “So how are your parents doing, Reid?”
Nadia watched as his eyes flashed with fury and hardened.
Oh, shit, she thought with a sinking sense of dread.
Slowly he turned to face the reporter, a skinny white guy with shaggy brown hair and pockmarked cheeks.
When Reid spoke, his voice was low and controlled. “What did you say?”
The reporter smirked. “I asked if your mother has forgiven your father for cheating on her.”
Nadia frowned as a disapproving murmur ran through the crowd. She could feel the tension rising, knew that the cameras were rolling.
Reid’s expression was terrifyingly ominous, anger radiating off his body like a nuclear bomb. “How is that any of your damn business?”
The reporter’s smug expression faltered for just a moment. Then he recovered and drawled smoothly, “Well, given what’s at stake for you tomorrow night, I was just wondering how your parents’ bitter estrangement might impact—”
Without warning Reid lunged forward.
“Reid!” Nadia cried out, grabbing his arm.
He stopped and looked down at her. Rage, raw and powerful, glittered in his eyes. His fists were clenched at his sides and his muscles were like steel beneath her hand, hard and unyielding.
She reached up and gently cupped his cheek. “Don’t do it, baby,” she implored, her voice low enough for his ears only. “There are children watching. Children who look up to you.”
His stormy gaze shifted to pan the crowd of little faces watching him, eyes wide with curiosity and concern.
“Let’s just go,” Nadia urged.
He glared at the rude reporter, a muscle throbbing in his jaw. She could see him struggling to keep his temper in check.
“Please,” she whispered.
His jaw slid to one side. He shot one last menacing glare at the smug reporter, then took Nadia’s hand. She exchanged relieved looks with Dawn before he led her across the atrium and out of the building.
He didn’t say a word until they were back inside the car. His jaw was set in a hard line, anger seething from every pore.
After several moments, Nadia reached over and gently stroked his cheek, trying to soothe away the torment. “Forget that reporter,” she said softly. “He’s an asshole, just some jerk trying to make a name for himself.”
“I know,” Reid muttered darkly. “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin like that.”
Nadia grimaced, shaking her head. “For what it’s worth, I understand why you did. He was way out of line, trying to get a rise out of you.”
�
��It worked,” Reid growled. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have kicked his fucking ass.”
“I know, baby. But hitting him would have given him the reaction he obviously wanted. It also would have traumatized your young fans. It’s one thing to see you kicking ass on the ice. Knocking out reporters? Not a good look.”
“Yeah. I know.” Reid pushed out a deep, ragged breath and then looked at her, a ghost of a smile touching his mouth. “You were great in there.”
She gave a rueful little laugh. “Like I said, I didn’t want you getting arrested for killing that douchebag.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.” His lips quirked. “Although, yeah, you probably did just save me from going to jail.”
She laughed again.
“What I was referring to was the way you interacted with the kids,” Reid went on. “You were really great, Nadia. They loved you.”
She smiled, her cheeks warming. “Not as much as they loved you.”
“Don’t be too sure of that.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles and stroked her palm along his face as he stared into her eyes. “I can tell you’re going to make a wonderful mother someday.”
A melting warmth spread through her at his words. “I was thinking the same thing about you, that you’re going to be an amazing father.”
As they gazed at each other, he turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. She shivered, her lips parting on a shaky breath.
When the reporters and cameramen began emerging from the building, Reid slowly released Nadia’s hand and started the engine.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get some lunch.”
He took her to a ritzy seafood restaurant on Detroit’s riverfront. They had a cozy table by the window, where they could enjoy breathtaking views of Windsor, Ontario across the glistening river.
“I can’t believe I’m looking at Canada,” Nadia marveled, sipping from a glass of red wine as she stared out the window. “This is so cool.”
Across the table, Reid gave her a lazy smile. “When we come back in the summer, I’ll take you over to Windsor. It’s a pretty city and the weather will be warmer, so we can spend the day sightseeing and sailing.”
Nadia smiled at him. “I’d like that.”
She didn’t know what pleased her more: his lovely suggestion or the way he was making future plans for them, as if there was no doubt in his mind that they would be together.
Their waiter appeared to top off their wine and ask how they were doing. His tone was deferential, and he still wore the same star-struck expression he’d had when they arrived. Nadia wondered how long it would take him to ask for Reid’s autograph.
When he departed, she took another sip of the rich wine that tasted of blackberries and currants. It was the perfect complement to the delicious lunch they’d enjoyed: flaky sea bass with caramelized scallops and a creamy slice of key lime pie for dessert.
Reid was gazing at her, his expression soft and warm. “I’m glad you’re here, Nadia.”
Pleasure spread through her veins. “So am I. I’m having a wonderful time.”
“Good.” He smiled, reaching for his wineglass. “I wish you could come to all my away games.”
“So do I. Then I could keep a close eye on you.”
He looked startled for a moment, the joke catching him off guard.
When she winked, he chuckled softly and brought his glass to his lips, watching her over the rim as he drank his wine.
She smiled. “I’m hanging out with your sisters tomorrow while you’re off doing your game day stuff.”
He nodded. “Avery told me. Sorry I won’t be around most of the day.”
She waved off his apology. “Don’t be sorry. Duty calls.”
He grimaced. “Speaking of which…” He pulled his buzzing phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Everything okay?” Nadia asked.
“Yeah. Just a sec.”
While he responded to the text message, Nadia sipped her wine and casually glanced around. Although the restaurant boasted an upscale clientele and fancy décor, the atmosphere was warm and relaxed with soft strains of piano music infusing the air with holiday cheer.
Full of good food and the warm glow of wine, Nadia sighed languorously as Reid put his phone away. “I’m taking a nap when we get back to the hotel,” she announced.
“Yeah?” A wicked gleam entered his eyes. “You can take one after we’re done.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Done what?”
He wiggled his brows suggestively.
She laughed. “Seriously, dude? Didn’t you get enough last night and this morning in the shower? I mean, you were almost late to practice trying to score one of your hat tricks.”
He chuckled. “And it would have been worth it.”
She shook her head at him. “You’re insatiable.”
“I thought we already established that.”
She grinned.
He grinned back and winked.
She set her glass down on the table and patted her stomach. “I should have ordered something lighter. I’m gonna be too stuffed to eat tonight, and your mom will be offended.”
“No, she won’t,” Reid said. “Besides, she’s not the one making dinner—her personal chef is. And Maeve’s an excellent cook, so I’m sure you won’t be picking at your food.”
Nadia smiled faintly. “I’m really nervous about meeting your parents tonight,” she confessed.
“Don’t be.”
“I can’t help it. What if they hate me on sight?”
Something flickered in Reid’s eyes, something that sent a frisson of warning down her spine.
She went still, staring at him. “What’s wrong?”
He was toying with his linen napkin, folding it into different configurations. “Nothing.”
He’s lying.
“I don’t believe you,” she told him.
He didn’t respond.
She let a few seconds lapse and realized he was going to make her ask. So she did. “Do your parents have a problem with me?”
He hesitated, then said in a low voice, “They don’t know you.”
She frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”
He lifted his eyes to hers. His gaze was hard and narrow. “I’m not going to let anyone disrespect you.”
A knot of anxiety twisted inside her. His words could only mean one thing. “Do you think someone’s going to disrespect me?”
A muscle clenched in his jaw before his gaze shifted away.
Her heart sank like a stone. She stared at him, her spine stiff with tension. “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Nadia—”
“Tell me the truth, Reid. I have a right to know what I’m walking into tonight.”
His lips pressed into a grim line. “My mother’s going through some—”
“Oh my God. You’re still dodging my question.” Nadia shook her head in disbelief, feeling hurt and betrayed. “I was honest with you about my father. After he found out we were dating, I told you how he felt about our relationship. You should have given me the same courtesy.”
Reid watched her with a brooding expression. “You’re right. I should have.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t want to come this weekend.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have.” Her angry retort landed on the table like a bomb set to detonate.
They stared at each other, the tense silence throbbing between them.
Without breaking eye contact, Reid tossed his napkin onto his plate, then slid his chair around the table to sit beside her. When his knee brushed hers, heat shot through her veins before she jerked her legs away and averted her gaze. Even when she was mad at him, he could still turn her on with the slightest touch.
“Nadia.” His voice was low and urgent. “Look at me.”
She shook her head, staring blindly out
the window. The wintry afternoon sun shimmered on the water, the beautiful view suddenly mocking her.
“Dammit.” Reid pulled her chair around to face him, making her gasp in surprise.
“What—”
He kissed her on the mouth, intently, his big hands framing her face as he whispered fiercely, “I love you.”
Just like that her heart melted, along with her anger. She would never tire of hearing those words from him. “I love you too,” she whispered helplessly.
He held her face between his hands, his eyes boring into hers with searing intensity. “You and me. Me and you. Nothing and no one else matters. You understand, baby? No one else matters but us. Remember that.”
She searched his eyes, then swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “I will.”
But it was easier said than done.
28
Shortly after reid signed his first NHL contract, he fulfilled another dream by moving his parents to the north, buying them a mansion on the lake in Bloomfield Hills. The exclusive residential community boasted lush woodlands, scenic watercourses and windy roads that led to multimillion-dollar estates.
That evening as Nadia stood staring up at the white-columned brick mansion looming in front of her, a knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. It wasn’t the lavishness of her surroundings that intimidated her—the sprawling house, the glistening lake, the five acres of velvety green lawn, the scent of old money wafting through the crisp winter air. She came from an upper middle-class background, so being around the über rich didn’t faze her.
What unnerved her was the prospect of meeting Reid’s parents—namely his mother—and being judged unsuitable based on nothing more than the color of her skin. It saddened and angered her, and made her feel even more apprehensive than she’d felt taking Reid home to her family on Thanksgiving.
Observing her anxious expression, Reid reached down and took her palm, lacing his fingers through hers. His hand felt strong and warm, and she clung to it.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured her, just as he’d done on Thanksgiving. “Come on.”
Fighting the urge to run back to the car and drive away—with or without Reid—Nadia forced her legs to carry her across the circular cobblestone drive and up the curved steps to the massive front door decorated with a silk-ribboned wreath.
Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) Page 42
