by Anna Sugden
“Yeah.” He ran his hand over his head. “But we’ve just got done agreeing we’d keep things cool, and I messed with that.”
Sapphie laid her palm against his cheek. “Just so you know—while we’re being open, honest adults—I do want to kiss you.”
“I want to kiss you, too.”
His crooked smile, that scar, were nearly her undoing. “We have to be sensible.”
Scotty gave that slow nod again.
Damn him! She would not be tempted.
If she didn’t make a definite stand right now, she knew she’d regret it. “Until my time with the Cats is over, we’ll settle for being friends. No benefits. Period.” She pecked him on the cheek, then got in her car before he could respond. “Good night.”
She peeked at him in her rearview mirror as she drove away. He stood watching until she’d turned the corner. Once he was out of sight, she sighed heavily.
So much for familiarity breeding contempt. For avoiding anything that smacked of a relationship. In the past twenty-four hours, she’d flip-flopped as often as a politician. Spend time with Scotty. Don’t spend time with Scotty. Kiss him. Don’t kiss him. Be friends. Don’t be friends.
Who was she trying to kid? She wanted to sleep with him. Wanted another glorious weekend. Why couldn’t she give in to it and go along for the ride, for as long as it lasted?
Because this wasn’t about just her.
Sapphie could handle all that and keep her heart intact. She wouldn’t suddenly start smelling orange blossoms or flipping through brides’ magazines because she and Scotty had a few dates. Even the thought of getting serious would remind her of what responsibilities and commitments had stolen from her as a child, and she’d backpedal so fast she’d get whiplash.
That wouldn’t be fair to Scotty. He wasn’t a fling kind of guy. Even if he said he could handle it, she knew he couldn’t. And sooner or later, his need to deepen their relationship would feel like a noose around her neck. Worse, because she genuinely liked him—admired and respected him—she’d want to let him down gently. So she’d let things drift on the surface, while inside she already had one foot out the door.
No matter how hard she tried not to, she’d end up hurting him. That was the last thing she’d ever want to do. He deserved better.
So did she.
What to do?
Sapphie continued to ponder the issue at her apartment and late into the night. She was no closer to a solution as she drove to work the following morning. Nor by the end of a grueling day. She’d spent the morning trying to untangle the mess the previous owners had left and the afternoon on a Skype call resolving issues on a project in her Chicago office. She wasn’t sure if it had been a help or hindrance that she hadn’t seen Scotty, except in the distance.
On impulse, instead of going home, she decided to stop by Issy’s. Her friend had always been able to give her perspective. The smell of grilling food greeted her as she pulled into a parking slot outside Issy’s apartment.
Issy and J.B. were living here while they looked for their new home. As J.B. had been renting the town house where he’d lived—and he’d shared it with a couple teammates—it had made more sense for him to move in with his new wife.
“This is a nice surprise,” Issy said when she opened the door. “I’m afraid you’ve missed Sophia. I put her down about half an hour ago.”
As usual, Sapphie had lost track of the time at work. When Issy was single, it wouldn’t have mattered, but Sapphie didn’t want to cut into her friend’s baby-free time with her husband.
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized it was that late. I can come back another time.”
“Don’t be silly.” Issy pulled her inside. “Join us for dinner. J.B. can toss another steak on the grill. You look like you could use a glass of wine. Tough day at the office?”
“No more than usual,” Sapphie hedged.
J.B. greeted her warmly. “Great. In return for dinner, you can give me the inside scoop on what’s happening in the front office.”
“It’s early days, so there isn’t anything to tell. You probably know more than I do.”
“Dam—Darn it. Oh well, I’ll feed you anyway.”
Sapphie laughed. “Thanks. First let me sneak in and see my goddaughter.”
Sophia didn’t stir when Sapphie leaned over the crib and pressed a kiss to her soft pink cheek. So precious. Sapphie’s heart swelled with love for the baby. Yet she didn’t feel the slightest urge to have one of her own. Perhaps because she knew all too well that babies were hard work. Then they became toddlers. Then children, then mini adults. The work never got easier. They took more and more out of you.
Never again.
Shaking her head sharply to get rid of the claustrophobic feeling, she cast one last look at Sophia.
While motherhood was not for her, Sapphie was a great doting godmother. “Sleep well, sweetheart,” Sapphie murmured before joining her friends.
As J.B. served the steaks, Issy caught Sapphie up on what various members of the Ice Cats and their families had been up to following the wedding celebration. Over dinner the conversation shifted to the couple’s search for their new house, which was going more slowly than they’d expected. They were thinking about building their own place if they couldn’t find somewhere they liked.
After they’d eaten, J.B. excused himself. “I promised I’d stop by and see Mad Dog tonight. Kenny said he’s still cut up about what happened with Lizzie.”
Kenny Jelinek and Taylor were J.B.’s closest friends, as well as his teammates.
“He was pretty down when we spoke a couple days ago,” Sapphie acknowledged.
“Give him a hug from me,” Issy said as she kissed her husband goodbye.
J.B. shot her an exaggerated look of pain. “Can’t I just slap him on the back?”
Issy rolled her eyes. “You’d hug him if he scored a goal.”
“That’s different.”
“Use your imagination, then. He needs cheering up.”
“A hug from me won’t do the trick. Trust me.”
“In that case, tell him I sent him a hug.” Issy grinned at her husband. “And lots of love.”
“Forget that,” J.B. growled. “He gets your best regards. If he’s real bad, a handshake.”
Sapphie and Issy laughed as he stomped out.
Once he’d gone, Issy gave Sapphie a stern look. “All right, spill. Why are you really here on a work night?”
Sapphie considered pretending she had no idea what her friend was talking about, then told her about Scotty. “I don’t know why I’m fretting so much. I agreed to drinks, food and the occasional social event. Nothing more. Why am I worrying about what-ifs and maybes?”
“I’ve never seen you this wound up about a guy before,” Issy said thoughtfully. “Except for that jackass with stalker tendencies in LA. The appropriately named Randy.”
“He was intense. And, to be clear, I never went out with him. He had an apartment in the same building and took my friendly hellos to mean that I lurved him as much as he lurved me.” Sapphie made a face as she mimicked his emphasis.
“He was weird. He stole your dry cleaning and wore your sweater to bed.”
Sapphie winced. “I don’t need reminding. This situation is completely different.”
Issy sipped her drink. “Honestly, I don’t see what you’re so worried about. Scotty’s a grown man. More than capable of making his own decisions about dating. Why are you tying yourself in knots trying to protect him?”
“He’s been through a difficult year. He seems...vulnerable.”
Issy’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re talking about Scotty Matthews. He laid out opponents for a living. He had the hardest slap shot in the league and the deadliest hip check.”
“Come on
. You know Scotty’s more than that clichéd image of a hockey player. He’s a totally different man off the ice.”
“That’s true. But I still think you’re not giving him enough credit. Vulnerable or not, he can hold his own—with you or with anyone else. Leaving aside the work issue, what have you got to lose?”
“His friendship.” That mattered a lot. Even though in truth they barely knew each other. “If... When things end between us, he won’t want anything to do with me.”
“Sweetie, if you don’t do this, you won’t have a friendship anyway. This arrangement you’ve agreed to gives you both a chance to get to know each other better. And if things work out, more. Why worry about how it might end before it’s even started?”
“Because it will end. It has to.”
“Your friendship with Taylor didn’t when you stopped sleeping together.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because Mad Dog and I were on the same page. Neither of us wanted more than what we had. Scotty and I aren’t even in the same book.”
“Except you just told me that you are for this dating-without-commitment deal.”
Sapphie threw up her hands. “See, I’m going round in stupid circles.”
“Stop overthinking this. If you like him, consider this a chance to start again. Put the weekend you spent together to one side. Imagine you’ve just met and go from there. One step at a time.”
Put like that, Sapphie began to see that maybe it could work. The problem was that she and Scotty had gone about things back to front. If they hadn’t slept together, would she be having any of these worries? “You’re right. Sex was the complicating factor.”
Issy smiled ruefully. “It usually is. Look at me and J.B.”
Although it had worked out in the end, her friends’ relationship had turned rocky when their no-strings vacation fling had resulted in Issy’s pregnancy.
“Much as I love Sophia, she’s the perfect cautionary tale. She’ll remind me to take things slowly and carefully.”
The key was not to sleep with Scotty again. Sapphie would just have to make sure they weren’t in a situation where their chemistry could spiral out of control. No romantic evenings. No time alone, even at work. She could handle that.
Sapphie toasted her friend with her wineglass. “I think things will be okay after all.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHAT A DIFFERENCE a couple weeks made.
Scott whistled as he sauntered around outside the Brew House. Grey had recommended the run-down tavern in the bustling riverfront district on the Jersey side of the Hudson as a possible investment opportunity. Given his friend’s eye for a business with potential, Scott had come here to give it the once-over.
It had also given him the perfect excuse to invite Sapphie to join him again for after-work drinks. He hadn’t seen much of her at the office over the past two weeks because they’d each had their own work commitments. Marty’s team was busy evaluating the organization for their final report, which was due shortly. Meanwhile, Scott and Callum had had to not only pull their own proposals together but also manage team and player issues—training camp was less than two weeks away.
On the one hand, the lack of contact was fine, because it kept the lines clear between business and pleasure. On the other, it added to the awkwardness when they did get together, because they had to get over the tense initial few moments. Maybe if they were around each other more, meeting up would be more comfortable from the outset.
Scouting the Brew House had given Scott the perfect way to change things up.
His cell rang as he was walking into the tavern. Half expecting it to be Sapphie phoning to say she was late, he was surprised when the caller ID showed Cam “Bullet” Lockhead, his old friend and former teammate.
Scott was lucky that he’d been able to stay with the Cats for his whole career, whereas Cam had moved from team to team, especially after he’d hit thirty. Often traded at the spring deadline to a franchise that needed grit for a play-off run, Cam would then be moved again in the off-season. His last few years before retirement he’d bounced back and forth between the minors and the NHL. A victim of the changing game, which didn’t need enforcers anymore, Bullet had hung up his skates two years before Scott had.
Scott answered. “Hey, man, good to hear from you. What’s going on?”
“Not much. You know how it is.”
Scott winced at his friend’s flat tone. Bullet had always been taciturn, but recently he’d sounded depressed. Scott knew Cam had struggled with retirement, initially going to his small hometown in Canada, intending to leave the game completely. But he’d missed the sport he loved and turned to scouting.
“Are you still with Seattle?” Scott asked.
“Yeah, but the travel’s a bear. Too much time on my own, freezing my ass off in miserable rinks, watching too many kids with barely enough talent. And don’t get me started on the parents. Plus Laurel says she sees less of me than when I was playing.” Cam paused. “So, I’m thinking of reaching out to the Cats for an ambassador’s role,” he said casually.
“Didn’t you say you’d rather lick your gloves than schmooze with the suits?”
“It can’t be as bad as what I’ve been doing. I’d be in one place and Laurel might be happier. She enjoyed living in Jersey.”
“But it would mean talking to, you know, people.”
His friend’s laugh sounded rusty. “I can manage some occasional small talk with the posh muckety-mucks.”
“I could put in a good word for you with our GM. Callum’s a stand-up guy. He’ll give you a fair hearing.”
“Okay. If you think it’d be worth it.”
“For sure.”
“Thanks, man.” His friend sounded brighter. “I appreciate it.”
Trying to keep Bullet positive, Scott asked about his kids, who were also in college. They exchanged family updates, and then he explained what he was doing at the tavern.
“I keep meaning to call Grey,” Cam said. “We can compare notes on battered brains.”
“Are you still getting headaches and dizziness?” Like Grey, Cam had suffered several concussions during his playing years.
“The medication keeps them under control most of the time, but you never know if it’s going to be a good or a bad day. The doc says I’m doing all right, so I mostly ignore it and soldier on.”
“I hear you.” Some mornings his body was so stiff he felt like a tin man whose joints needed oiling. “You’ll get there.”
Scott’s heart kicked as he saw Sapphie pull into the parking lot. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. The person I’m meeting has arrived.”
“You’re dating?” There was a smile in Cam’s voice.
“We’re just friends.”
“Uh-huh. Hot blonde, spicy brunette or cool redhead?”
Scott grinned. “Hot blonde.”
“On a scale of one to ten, is she a fifteen?”
“At least. More like a twenty.” Well, a fifty, but he wasn’t telling his old buddy that.
Cam whooped. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He sobered. “Laurel will be pleased you’re not on your own anymore.”
“Whoa. It’s not like that.”
“Then, bro, you ain’t doing it right.”
“What do you know? You’ve been married to the same lovely lady all your life.”
“How do you think I’ve kept her with me? I’m not just a pretty face.”
With a broken nose that hadn’t fixed straight and several nasty scars, he wasn’t even that. Scott laughed. “I’ll let you know what Callum says, but don’t be a stranger in the meantime.”
He hung up as Sapphie walked toward him. Today’s dress and heels were the same blue as her eyes. Despite the
early-evening heat, she looked as fresh as a spring morning.
The hostess showed them to a booth in the back and slapped down two dog-eared menus. “Marge will be your waitress tonight. Enjoy.”
He and Sapphie exchanged looks at her bored tone.
“A miserable front of house puts you off before you’ve even ordered.” Sapphie shook her head. “Too many empty tables for a Friday night. Since it’s the last weekend before Labor Day I know people are headed to the shore, but this place should be doing better.”
“Grey said the price was much lower than he’d have expected given the prime location.”
“Ryan Grey? As in the former Cats defenseman who runs that amazing steak house.”
“The very same.” He tamped down the jab of jealousy and explained that Grey was helping him look into investment opportunities. “Apparently, for the asking price, you can’t find a better deal. The business is sound and there aren’t any hidden nasties. But the sales figures are poor and getting worse. Plus there’s a high staff turnover.”
“Not a great reflection on the current management.”
“What can I get you to drink?” Their waitress sloshed ice water into the plastic tumblers.
“A Miller Genuine, please.” Sapphie’s smile wasn’t returned. “And some chili poppers.”
“Same for me,” Scott said. “But I’ll try your buffalo wings.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back with your order.”
Unfortunately, right back was twenty minutes. The beer was warm and the appetizers cold. Scott and Sapphie hoped as they placed their dinner orders—a loaded burger for him and meatball mac and cheese for her—that the simple fare would be edible.
It was, but the service was again painfully slow and their waitress disappeared, so they couldn’t get another drink.
“What do you think?” Scott asked once they’d taken the edge off their hunger.
“This place needs a lot of work to improve it, but if you fixed it up right, you’d make a killing. It’s in a prime riverfront spot with ample parking and space for an outdoor dining patio. Plenty of room inside to add a decent-sized bar.” Sapphie swept her hand in a half circle to illustrate her point. “Give the place some atmosphere, add decent food and drinks, plus slick service, and people will flood here.”
