by Addison Fox
“You’re hurt.” Roman reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand and running his thumb over the red mark.
“I grazed it on the bench of the machine on the way down.” She smiled ruefully as his thumb ran over the rim of her eye socket. “At least it was padded.”
“I don’t care.”
The hum of excitement that had gripped the room fell silent as Roman stood and bent down to help Avery up. The adrenaline that was rapidly fading—along with the knowledge he was about to mete out punishment—had the boys waiting in quiet anticipation.
“Practice is over. And since this is such an excellent example of your teamwork, I don’t want to see Zach, Will or Stink until Friday’s practice. Take a few days and cool off.”
Cries of “But Coach!” and “Not fair!” rose up from Will and Zach, and it didn’t escape Roman’s notice that Stink was noticeably quiet.
“Since Avery got caught in the cross fire, let’s call it a day.” With a pointed look at Zach and Will, he added, “I’ll see the rest of you tomorrow.”
Stink was already out of the room, his shoulders hunched as he slammed through the door to the gym. The other boys filed out shortly after, and Roman turned back, anxious to see to Avery.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, Roman. I think Stink’s the one you need to worry about. He’s a lot more bruised than I am.”
“If I call him out or favor him, the kids’ll only make it harder on him.”
“I know.”
He crossed the room and grabbed a cold water from the small fridge that sat in the corner. Walking back to Avery, he handed it to her. “Press that to your eye for a few minutes. You’re going to have a shiner all the same.”
“I’ll consider it a badge of honor.”
“It pisses me off. They’re a group of boys who should know better.” He took her by the shoulders and led her to one of the weight benches. “Sit down for a few minutes.”
“And they’ve got hot heads and the tempers of young men.”
“You could have gotten really hurt. Hell, scratch that. You were hurt.”
Roman was surprised at the quick and ready anger that still simmered under his skin. He knew she was okay—the bruise was minor and she’d get a few good stories out of it around town. He also wasn’t sad to have a reason to get Will and Zach out of the team environment for a few days so he could assess what the team looked like without them.
But things with Stink bothered him.
“You’ve gotten awfully clumsy since the last time I saw you.”
Avery’s words were quiet but she could have screamed them, they echoed so loudly through his head.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? You’ve tripped a lot and that was quite a fall you took against the machines. Didn’t you see them as you went down?”
“I was sort of focused on the gaggle of teenage testosterone getting ready to explode.”
She cocked her head, the motion oddly charming with the water bottle still pressed to her eye. “So what’s the excuse for last night with the glasses? Or the other day on your run?”
Panic balled up in his gut, reaching up to tighten his chest with hard squeezes that matched the pounding of his heart. Despite the immediate reaction, Roman fought to keep his voice level.
He would not discuss this. Would not admit there was anything wrong. Because it damn well wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
“I’m a tall man. Believe me, I trip more than I’d like to admit.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Roman. You’re so fucking graceful the ballet would take you.”
“What do you want me to tell you? That I feel good about the fact that I almost got my ass kicked by a bunch of kids?”
She dropped the water bottle and stood. “And the run? And the wineglasses? You’re going to sit there and tell me they’re nothing?”
“You said yourself glasses get broken all the time. I just had the bad luck to swipe out an entire row.”
The doubt persisted, plastered all over her face in twin lines of skepticism and annoyance, but she backed down.
Sort of.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
Frustration of his own crawled through his veins like a poison. He’d lived with it since his injury the previous season, the self-doubt and fear coiled and hissing at him like a snake.
Unwilling to give it any more power, and anxious for a way to change the subject, he went on the offensive. Closing the narrow gap between them, Roman moved back into her personal space, pleased when that light flush rose once more in her cheeks.
Even better, instead of the flush of exertion, this blush of pink smacked of something far more interesting and enticing.
Arousal.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He ran a finger along her cheek, brushing lightly against her cheekbone. Her skin was still cool from the water bottle and Roman marveled at the difference between her cool flesh and the body heat he felt emanating against his chest.
“I’m fine.”
He bent his head and pressed his lips against her cheek. “Maybe you need a few kisses to make it all better.”
“Roman.”
He heard his name come out on a sigh and it only encouraged him to maintain his strategic assault. With exquisite gentleness so as not to press too hard against the bruise, he ran his lips across the remaining expanse of her cheek, then added suction as he moved to her earlobe. Pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear, he whispered back.
“Such beautiful skin. It’s a terrible thing to mar it.”
He placed one hand at the base of her neck, gratified when he felt the tension in her body loosen as her head fell back. He continued to tease her ear with his lips and she tilted to give him better access when he moved down to the graceful arch of her neck.
“Roman.” When he only continued pressing kisses to her neck, she raised her voice in a heartier whisper. “Roman.”
“Mmmm?”
“One of the boys might come back.”
“So that’s the only reason you won’t kiss me back?”
“No.”
He lifted his head and placed his hands on either side of her neck. “Yes.”
Without giving her time to come up with any additional excuses, he pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue through the seam.
A delicious familiarity gripped him as the taste that was uniquely Avery met his taste buds—a mixture of the sweet flavor of her sports drink and something darker and more intense, like the fine wines she loved. Whatever hesitation she might have had wasn’t in evidence as she kissed him back. Her arms wrapped around his waist and he felt the light tease of her fingers where she ran them along the base of his spine.
The thought vaguely crossed his mind that the woman in his arms was the same as he remembered, yet distinctly different somehow.
Where their time together as teenagers had been a mixture of tentative exploration and an innocent give-and-take, the woman in his arms had the cultured notes of experience and self-confidence in the artful way she kissed him back.
It was heady and Roman found himself pulled by the undertow as the fever to brand her with his body increasingly took over all rational thought.
“Roman. We can’t do this.”
“Actually, we can.”
The clear notes of regret stamped themselves in her dark eyes, their pupils blown wide with need as she stepped back. “No, we can’t.”
“Why are you pulling away?”
“Because I can’t think when you’re close to me like this.”
“Thinking is overrated.”
“Maybe so, but I’m not interested in making a mistake I can’t undo.”
Her words hit him with the force of an arrow. “I wasn’t aware we were a mistake.”
“We will be if we rush into things.” She took another few steps away. “I care about you. I always have. And I’m not going to make a de
cision with my hormones.”
“So you are willing to consider there’s something there?”
“Oh, Roman.” She shook her head, a gentle smile hovering at her lips. “There’s always been something there. For God’s sake, I used to give you my cookies at lunch when we were six.”
“You told me you didn’t like them.”
“I was subjugating my desires for a man, even then.”
A heavy bark of laughter welled up in his chest. “You were what?”
“I used to have my mom pack extras every day. And I was adamant that I had to have Oreos.”
“So you could give them to me.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t believe it.”
She shrugged. “They made you happy. So they made me happy.”
The quietly spoken words had the same effect as the last arrow to the chest, only this one spread a funny sort of warmth through his limbs upon impact.
“So when I tell you I don’t want to make a decision with my hormones, understand that’s not meant to be an insult. You mean more than a roll around the gym.”
“I was expecting we could use a bed.”
“It’s not the right time.” She stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But you’re lovely for asking.”
He felt the soft press of her lips and knew there was a thread of truth in her words, especially if he put the raging needs of his body aside for the briefest of moments to listen to his brain.
Those long, coltish legs carried her to the door of the gym and he watched her take every step, imagining the feel of them wrapped around his waist. Maybe it was the vision or the subtle calm of her voice when she turned back to look at him.
“You coming?”
“Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d fix myself a post-workout treat of milk and Oreos. You’re welcome to join me.”
Roman didn’t wait to be asked twice.
• • •
Julia took a seat on the hard marble bench in front of what the town fondly referred to as the Love Monument.
She simply thought of it as her refuge.
The monument had been her gift to her late husband’s memory. She still remembered the day she lost him in vivid detail, the harsh shock of being a widow in her midthirties something she’d feared she would never recover from.
Her friends had seen her through, along with the son and daughter she adored, and slowly the joys of life had come back to her. And it had been Mary, in a late-night sob session a year after Andrew had passed, who had come up with the idea of a monument.
Something solid and lasting, she had said.
Mary had remembered a sculptor from Juneau that she and Charlie had seen on a vacation the previous year and gave Julia his name. With very little input, the man had managed to capture the exact essence of what she was looking for.
Heavy, curving lines that gave the impression of a man and a woman, folded in an embrace.
It was the lettering at the base, however, that had been all hers.
For those we aren’t allowed to keep.
How true those words had been, especially when she lost her own son a little more than two decades later.
Once again, her girlfriends had been there, standing solidly beside her as she dealt with a grief that penetrated every single cell of her body with the most unbearable pain imaginable.
Mary and Sophie had been through everything with her. The most important moments of her life had been shared, dissected, remembered and treasured with the two best friends a woman could have.
So why couldn’t she talk to them about Roman?
The thought nagged at her, and despite the slight feelings of guilt and the bigger puzzlement as to why she remained silent, she knew she couldn’t share her concerns.
“Care for some company?”
Julia looked up to see Ken standing next to her, a hand lifted to shade his eyes from the afternoon sun.
“Of course.” A light hitch caught her breath and she swallowed hard before adding, “Please. Join me.”
His smile was warm as he settled himself next to her. “It’s a beautiful day. You visiting with Andy?”
“I was thinking, more than anything.” She hesitated for only a moment as his words registered. “And how do you know I visit with Andy when I come here?”
“It’s too beautiful a spot not to.”
“There’s an odd simplicity in that.”
He shrugged. “I’m a simple man.”
“No, I don’t think that’s true. You only look simple and easygoing on the surface, but I think those still waters run very deep.”
A distinct twinkle lit his gentle brown eyes. “I think that was a compliment.”
“I certainly meant it as such.”
“So if you’re not really talking to Andy, and please tell him hi for me when you do talk next, what were you thinking about on this lovely afternoon?”
“My grandson.”
“Ahhh.” Ken shifted and settled his elbow on the back of the bench. “What has you worried?”
“He’s hiding something.”
“It’s certainly not how he feels about Avery.”
“No, not that.”
Julia’s gaze caught on the small bed of flowers that surrounded the base of the monument. The bright, pretty blooms winked gently in the breeze, their pinks and purples a jaunty wave to summer. “But I think something’s wrong.”
His years of practicing medicine kicked in and his face grew serious. “You think he’s hurt?”
“I’m not sure.”
With the ready admission that she felt silly even bringing it up, she recounted the broken glasses from the evening before. “And I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s off, Ken. I know it was only a few glasses. Anyone can make that mistake. But it was like he didn’t even see them.”
“Have you discussed it with Susan? Asked if she’s noticed anything?”
A spurt of annoyance filled her chest. “All she sees is hearts, fireworks and grandbabies where Roman is concerned. And when Avery’s in the mix, it’s worse.”
“She’s not the only one.”
“No. No, she’s not.” Julia played with the fringe on the light sweater she wore. “I think that’s why I haven’t been able to talk about this with Mary and Sophie. They’re so focused on weddings and happy-ever-afters that they’ve stopped realizing not everyone gets one.”
Her gaze drifted to the monument without any conscious effort. Before she could think on it, a light breeze whipped up and blew at her hair. She turned to look at Ken in an effort to blow back the strands waving around her face.
And caught sight of such a deep longing in his eyes she lost her breath.
The moment stretched out and she wondered at the light whisper of thought streaming through her mind.
She’d been alone for so long, she hadn’t ever really expected she’d find anything with another man after losing Andrew. But as she stared into Ken Cloud’s eyes, the strangest feeling—a subtle longing, really—urged her to consider not being quite so hasty.
And then the moment broke as he finally spoke, his tone solemn. “No, not everyone gets one.”
That light breeze whispered around her shoulders once more and as it swirled, a funny impulse seized her. “I haven’t taken my walk yet today. Would you care to join me?”
The empty look in his gaze vanished, replaced with something as bright as a beautiful summer day. “Yes.”
He stood, his regal carriage gentlemanly as he extended a hand to help her up. “Where should we go?”
“There’s a path along the river I enjoy.”
“Sounds lovely.”
The wind whispered over her shoulders once more as she and Ken walked away from the monument, and Julia couldn’t shake the thought that Andrew approved.
Most heartily.
Chapter Thirteen
“You look like a woman contemplating sex.”
Avery eye
d Grier over the rim of her oversized java mug, the surrounding buzz at the Jitters thankfully loud enough to cover Grier’s bold pronouncement. “How do you know that?”
“Three reasons.”
With a come-here hand wave, Avery sat back, ready to take it all in. “Bring them on.”
“Exhibit one. You have an irritable glow.”
“How is a glow irritable?”
“You’re glowing ’cuz you’re anticipating sex, but you’re pissed about it. I’ve been there, girlfriend.”
Avery decided to keep her thoughts to herself on point number one because the description was shockingly close to the truth. “Okay. What are your other reasons?”
“You’re replacing the need for sex with chocolate.”
“I am not.”
“That mocha has about a billion calories in it and you usually just drink yours plain with skim milk.”
Avery swirled the Twix stir-stick in the froth. “Chooch got me hooked on it. It’s her Special.”
“It hurts my teeth to look at it and you know that’s saying a lot.”
“I ran four miles with fourteen teenage boys. I earned it.”
Grier tapped her forehead. “And you landed yourself a rather colorful shiner as well, so you can add medicinal to its properties.”
“I like the way you think. And the shiner was an accident.”
“Roman’s still pissed about it. He was telling Mick about it earlier when he brought the truck back.”
“There’s nothing for him to be angry about. It was just boys being boys.”
One lone eyebrow rose up over Grier’s cool gray eyes. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response, especially since I heard it was the team’s two little shits who instigated it.”
“Will and Zach had their bully flags flying today.”
“Assholes. I did Zach’s parents’ returns this past tax season and the kid stomped around the house like he was the damn prince of the castle.”
“Neither Will nor Zach are very good and it pisses them off. I could have seen past it but when they started picking on Stink they went from annoying to something else.”
“Stink. The one who—” Grier wrinkled her nose.
“Hockey funk.”
