by Anna Sugden
“I wasn’t planning to stay. But Sean was playing a gig at a club nearby last night, so I thought we’d stop by and you could check him out. He’s checking his precious drums in the van and will be in shortly.” Angela laughed. “I think he’s nervous about meeting you.”
Scotty still hadn’t moved. “I’m not sure there will be enough food for everyone.”
Angela got the bag of prepared salad leaves from the crisper, then reached for a bowl. “Can’t you get some more steaks out of the freezer?”
Sapphie waited for Scotty to mention her presence, but he didn’t. Although his brain had probably frozen the minute he’d seen his daughter, his omission made Sapphie feel out of place again. Which stung, when she was the one who was meant to be there.
Since Scotty seemed unable to make the necessary introductions, it was up to her.
“We’re not ready for the salad yet,” she said calmly, pushing past Scotty and into the kitchen, where she put down the glasses, then took the bowl from Angela and put it aside. “I’m Sapphire, by the way.”
Angela’s jaw drop was almost comical. She recovered quickly; her blue gaze narrowed and did a head-to-toe examination of Sapphie, lingering briefly on the too-large T-shirt.
“Dad? You have a guest?” Her question had an accusing edge.
“I do.” Scotty kept his tone even, though he squared his stance. “Sapphie, this is my eldest, Angela.”
“Nice to meet you.” Sapphie smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you from your dad.”
Angela didn’t smile back. “Does Mom know about this?” She waved her hand between him and Sapphie.
“Sweetie, your mother and I are divorced,” he reminded her gently. “Which she wanted.”
The tension level ratcheted up a notch. “How long has this been going on? Sapphire’s wearing your T-shirt.” Her lip curled as she said Sapphie’s name. “Very cozy.”
“She spilled something on her blouse and had to change. Though I don’t have to explain that to you,” Scotty said carefully. “I’m—”
“And I don’t have to stick around and watch you entertain some puck bunny.”
“Enough. Sapphie isn’t—”
The doorbell rang.
“That’s Sean.” Angela turned on her heel and stalked off, tossing over her shoulder, “I’ve changed my mind about you meeting him.”
The front door slamming echoed through the house.
Scotty closed his eyes briefly, then heaved a sigh. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” Sapphie busied herself with the sides they’d purchased so he wouldn’t see how much Angela’s visit and her antagonistic attitude—not to mention that puck-bunny dig—bothered her. “Shouldn’t you go after her?”
She was startled when his arms wrapped around her. He pulled her into him and rested his chin against her head. “Better to let her cool off. Anything I say now will only rile her further. I’ll call her in a day or two and set her straight.”
His tone said that was a discussion he wasn’t looking forward to having. She couldn’t blame him, yet something about the way he said it unsettled her.
Although the situation had taken the edge off her appetite, Sapphie turned in his arms, kissed him, then said brightly, “Where are those to-die-for steaks?”
Gratitude shone in his eyes. “Coming right up.”
The rest of the evening went more smoothly. The steaks were indeed the best she’d ever tasted. The lovemaking that followed was intense and passionate. They finally slept, curled in each other’s arms, legs entwined. As if neither wanted to let go, even for a moment.
Early the following morning, Scotty held her hand as he drove her to the airport. He stood with her as she checked in, then lifted her case onto the scales. Their goodbye was quiet—little said, a lot unsaid. Her throat tightened as she walked away.
Sapphie looked back only once as she cleared security. Scotty’s serious expression broke into a grin and he blew her a kiss, making her laugh.
She was still smiling when she slipped into her seat on the aircraft. As the cabin crew went through their last-minute tasks before takeoff, Sapphie’s mind was further afield. With a certain retired hockey captain. Wondering whether it would be so bad to get serious about him. Whether they could actually make a relationship work.
And why the thought of all that, which should have terrified her, instead made her happy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“YOU’RE STILL SEEING that woman, aren’t you?”
Every phone call with Scott’s daughter after her unexpected visit six weeks ago had followed the same route. At least, it had once Angela had started speaking to him again, which had taken a couple weeks.
“Give me a break, sweetheart,” he said calmly, biting back a sigh. “We’ve been over and over this. I’m sorry that my dating Sapphie upsets you, but I’m a divorced man who is free to date whomever I please.”
He leaned against the headboard of the hotel room bed. This was going to take a while. So much for his plan to chill out before he had to join the team for dinner. He’d worked nonstop in the office, then on the plane to Columbus and in the hotel once he’d arrived. He’d just gotten out of the shower when his cell had rung.
The conversation had actually been going better than usual, until Angela had started talking about Christmas. Since he’d been away over Thanksgiving—on a western road trip with the Ice Cats—and there was no hockey from December 24 to December 26, plus the team had a home stand after, Angela wanted both him and Celine at Christmas lunch.
“You’d rather spend Christmas Day with her than your children.”
“I’ve already explained that I’m going to J.B. Larocque’s place with some of the guys.” He deliberately didn’t mention that Sapphie would be there, too. “You and Wayne will be with your mother.”
“Why can’t you join us? You did last year.”
His words were measured. “That was a one-off to make things easier for you and your brother. Next year, you’ll both spend the day with me.”
Angela huffed. “Is it serious—this thing with her?”
He wasn’t about to explain the situation with Sapphie to his daughter. “We’re dating. We have fun together.”
“Well, I don’t want her in our house when I’m home for the holidays.” His daughter’s tone changed, growing angry. “I’ll stay at Mom’s. And I won’t come over to visit.”
He shook his head. This was starting to degenerate into a familiar argument that he had neither the energy nor the will to deal with. Especially not on the phone from a hotel room.
“Cool your jets.”
When she tried to interrupt, he cut her off. “I’m a single adult who’s entitled to live his life the way he wants. To be happy. If that means you don’t want to live in my house anymore or even see me again, I’m sorry. I won’t like it, but that’s your choice and so be it.” He puffed out a silent breath. “I will not be held to ransom by you.”
“Fine. Bye.” The click of the line disconnecting was as effective as a door slam.
Scott tossed his phone onto the bed, then laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “That went well,” he said. “Not.”
He was not backing down. Even if things didn’t last with Sapphie, it was the principle. He wouldn’t go through this every time he started seeing someone.
Needing to get rid of the sour taste in his mouth, he called Sapphie.
“This is a nice surprise.” The pleasure in her voice instantly brightened his mood. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until after the team dinner.”
“I had a couple minutes before I have to join the guys, so I thought I’d try to catch you and say hi.”
“Hi.”
How could she put so much sensual intent into
one small word?
His erection sprang to life, as if she’d reached through the phone and stroked him. Then again, his body probably assumed this was foreplay.
Scott couldn’t believe he’d gotten this far in his life without having experienced phone sex. It had simply never occurred to him before, but with Sapphie, it was an adventure. Fun, steamy and ultimately frustrating, despite the completion they both achieved. Solo satisfaction was nowhere near as good as being buried deep inside her, feeling her pulse around him as she came, then giving in to his own climax.
Still, intimate calls had been one of the ways they’d coped with their jam-packed schedules over the past month and a half. Though he’d managed to catch up with her in Minneapolis for one glorious night, the next Cats road trip to Detroit and Nashville had coincided with her being elsewhere. She’d made it to Jersey a couple times and he’d flown to Chicago once.
“Hi.” His voice deepened with a husky edge. “Miss me?”
“Hell yes.” She laughed. “If my office door wasn’t open, I’d tell you in explicit detail how much.”
His imagination fired. Scott shifted to ease an almost painful hardness. “Hold that thought for later.”
“Definitely. Though I was planning to show you tomorrow when you arrive in Chicago. Unless you’ll be too tired. I know you don’t get in until late.”
The Cats were flying to Chicago after the game against Columbus. Since they weren’t playing until Sunday and Coach Macarty had organized a team-building activity for Saturday, Scott was free. He planned to spend every moment with Sapphie.
“I’ve been used to that kind of schedule my whole adult life. No matter how late it is, I’ll be ready for you.”
“Excellent. Be sure to eat your Wheaties tomorrow. It’s been a long ten days since we were together and I plan to make it up to you.”
Their plans had fallen apart the previous week, when Sapphie had canceled because of an issue with one of Marty’s projects. Instead of flying to New Jersey to meet up with Scott, she’d gone to LA. He’d tried not to let on how much it had irritated him that he’d come second place to her business again, but that wouldn’t stop him from accepting what she was offering as compensation.
He groaned. “I’m supposed to meet the guys in fifteen minutes. I can’t show up with a raging hard-on.”
“I could help you with that.”
“I’m tempted, believe me. But I’m saving myself for the real thing.”
“Me, too... Hold on a second.” He heard someone talking in the background. Then she said, “Sorry, but I have to go. I have a videoconference with the Antonelli group.”
“No problem. I’ll speak to you later.”
“I look forward to it.” She lowered her voice. “I promise there won’t be any interruptions.”
“Great,” he said, trying to sound upbeat while aching.
Once he’d hung up, he went into the bathroom and ran the cold water, splashing it over his face.
Although he didn’t want to get ahead of himself—it was still early days—his relationship with Sapphie was going pretty well. And not just on the physical side. The long-distance thing was tough and it was difficult not to keep pressing for more from her. He’d dropped several hints about her making Jersey her home so they could spend more time together. He’d hoped it might also make their relationship more settled. But he had to tread carefully. If he pushed too hard, he’d scare her away. So he was schooling himself to be patient.
He shut off the tap and headed for the door, only to be stopped when his cell rang. In case it was his daughter calling to give him more grief, he checked the caller ID.
It was Cam Lockhead. Scott debated answering but let it go to voice mail. Their conversations over the past few weeks had become difficult.
Bullet had suffered a setback in his recovery from concussion syndrome. That had affected his move to Jersey. Even though Making Your Move was handling all the logistics for him and Laurel, Cam had found it hard to make decisions about the simplest things. So they’d slowed the process to make it easier for him to cope. At this stage, the move wasn’t likely to occur until well into next year.
That had bothered Bullet, making him feel like he was letting everyone down. No matter how many times Scott had reassured him, Bullet had become depressed and withdrawn. Both Scott and Grey had teamed with Laurel to get Cam into counseling, but the man was stubborn as hell.
The phone fell silent. Scott heaved a sigh and opened the door. He felt bad for ignoring the call, but he wasn’t up for dealing with Bullet right now. He’d call later, after dinner. His cell rang again when he was in the elevator going down to join the guys in the bar. Scott frowned, seeing it was Bullet again. Once again he let the call go to voice mail. This time because he was hardly in the right place to talk. He’d return the call downstairs, where he could step outside and get some privacy.
Scott bumped into Chance and Ice Man getting out of the adjacent elevator and they all headed for the bar together. From there, they went on to the team dinner and Scott didn’t get a chance to check his phone until much later, when he was returning to his room.
His stomach dropped when he saw he’d missed nearly a dozen calls from Bullet.
Crap. Something must be seriously wrong.
His friend had stopped calling over an hour ago. Cursing, Scott fumbled with the key card, taking a couple attempts to open the door. Rushing inside, he was about to call Bullet when his cell rang.
Seeing his friend’s name, he puffed out a relieved breath and answered. “Hey, man. I’m sorry I missed you earlier. You know what it’s like on the road with team dinners.”
There was a pause, then a female voice asked, “Is that Scott?”
“Uh, yeah.” Who was using Bullet’s phone? “Laurel?”
“I’m Candace, her sister.”
“Is she okay?”
She hesitated. “Laurel asked me to contact Cam’s friends. I hate to give you bad news over the phone, but I’m trying to stay one step ahead of the media.”
His gut twisted hard. “Why? What’s happened?”
“I’m sorry to tell you that Cam passed away this afternoon.”
“What?” His legs suddenly felt weak. He grabbed the wall. How the hell did a guy die from a freaking concussion? “I thought he was getting better.”
“We—” Candace cleared her throat. “We all did.”
“So what happened?”
The silence went on for so long that he wondered if the connection had gone. Finally, she said quietly, “He hanged himself.”
* * *
“YOU WANT ME to go with you to London?”
Sapphie couldn’t believe it. She almost pinched herself to be sure she wasn’t imagining what Marty had said.
It was a dream come true. She’d always longed to travel abroad, especially to England, but the opportunity had never arisen.
When Marty had told her he was thinking of buying one of the English Premier League soccer teams, she’d hoped that he’d send her to evaluate the business.
“Of course.” He chuckled. “Who else would I trust to do the job? Besides, you know more about football, as they call it over there, than most of my staff. Almost as much as my soccer-mad wife.”
Sapphie jumped to her feet and did a silent happy dance around her office, fist-pumping with the hand that held the phone. Then she sat again and took a steadying breath. “When do you need me to go?”
“Ideally, Monday. Tuesday at the latest. I know it’s short notice, but the owner has finally agreed to sell and said I can have first refusal, so I want to get the ball rolling as soon as possible...in case he changes his mind again.”
Sapphie would have moved heaven and earth to clear her schedule for this trip. As it happened, her next project, which required her to
be in-house for at least the initial meetings, wouldn’t start until January, so she was free. Also, with the holidays coming and December being notorious for disruptions, she’d focused her team on finishing their current projects, not starting new ones. She had intended to do some internal strategic planning, staff appraisals and general housekeeping to ensure a fresh start in the New Year. Other than the reviews, most of that work could be managed remotely.
“I’ll check my diary, see if I can move a few things about and get back to you.”
“Good, good. I’ll get my assistant to email you the bare-bones schedule we have so far and you can adapt that as you see fit. I’ll be there for the first week minimum. The club plays at home on the Saturday afternoon and I’d like to attend. I assume you will, too.”
Even though the soccer team wasn’t her favorite, she wasn’t giving up the chance to watch a live game in the best league in the world. The only thing that would have been better was if they’d been playing her beloved Red Devils. Then again, she’d have found it hard to maintain a professional detachment and cheer for the appropriate side. “Definitely. I’ll practice my chants.”
“Make sure they’re the clean ones. Some of those songs can be a little choice.”
Sapphie grinned. “As if I’d do anything else.”
They discussed what Marty wanted to get out of the trip. She chipped in with observations and suggestions of her own. It was a much more complicated acquisition than the Ice Cats had been, not least because of the regulations of both countries and the dictates of soccer’s national and international governing bodies. There was a lot of due diligence to be done before Marty could make a final commitment.
“I figure that you and the rest of the team will need to be in England for the whole of December. Maybe longer if you run into any hitches or uncover any major issues.”
She winced. “I need to be finished by Christmas. I have commitments to other clients in January that I can’t shift.”
