by Anna Sugden
She forced the passion to cool.
Her heart heavy with regret, Tracy broke the kiss and pulled away.
It was silly to feel a twinge of disappointment that he let her go so easily. Just as it was ridiculous to wish she could return to the heady delights she’d been experiencing seconds ago. She blamed it on the chill that went through her at the loss of his heat. On the loneliness that crept into her body.
Worried that he’d read her emotions on her face, she turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. Still, she couldn’t resist running her tongue over her own lips to capture the taste of him one last time.
“We have to stop doing this,” she croaked. “It won’t work.”
“Why the hell not?”
She tamped down the thrill that went through her at his hoarse words. “Because nothing has changed between us.”
“That’s for damn sure.”
Now that they were back on familiar ground, she had the strength to turn around and face him. “Like I said before, the chemistry was never the problem. But the other thing that hasn’t changed is that we want different things. Have different expectations. You want to settle down and I don’t. If we got together again, the outcome would be the same.”
“You’re not even prepared to try?”
His incredulous tone made her angry. “What’s the point?”
“Because this time we know the pitfalls and can work to overcome them. Attraction may not be enough, but it’s a damn good brick in the foundation. And there’s plenty more to add—like mutual respect. We have more in common than just great sex.”
She couldn’t deny that. “Maybe.”
“Last time we didn’t make the effort to solve our problems. We fell at the first hurdle and let things slip away. If we go into this with our eyes open, aware of the problems and prepared to work at them, we have a better chance of making it.”
He made it sound so tempting. But no matter how much they worked at a relationship, Tracy couldn’t give Ike the future, the commitment, he wanted. They might make it longer than last time, but they’d still be destined for failure.
“I know I rushed things before.” He gave a self-deprecating half smile as he raised his bandaged arm. “Seems to be my problem all round. But I’ve learned my lesson. We’ll take things at a pace you’re comfortable with. One shift at a time.”
Tracy should be pleased. He was saying all the right things. What’s more, she believed he meant them.
Unfortunately, she was afraid that it was also too good to be true. Could he really be that patient? What if she was never ready to make the commitment he wanted? What if this new approach only delayed the inevitable and she still got sucked into that dependent relationship that terrified her? This time she might not be strong enough to make it out.
Still, despite her fear, there was a part of her that didn’t want to shut the door completely. That wanted to believe in the tiny chance that this time it could work.
“There’s a lot going on in both our lives right now,” she hedged. “You have to focus on getting better. And my priority is to try to keep my company successful and growing.”
To give Ike credit, he didn’t flinch. “Sure, it’s stressful, but I’d argue that this is the perfect time. Since I’m out of action for the season, the pressures of trying to balance a relationship with playing are gone—even if only temporarily. I appreciate your business situation isn’t what you’d like, but on the other hand your schedule has freed up until you replace the Ice Cats’ business.”
He made it sound so easy. “I wish it was that straightforward.”
“Why can’t it be?” He puffed out a frustrated breath. “Look, we can’t keep ignoring the attraction between us.”
“Sure, we can. We’re adults. We can control ourselves.”
He gave her a chiding look. “Okay. I don’t want to keep ignoring the attraction.”
Since he’d been honest, she should be, too. “Me, neither. But, as I keep saying, that isn’t the problem.”
“I know. But you also said we shouldn’t borrow trouble.”
“Huh?” Tracy tilted her head to one side, confused.
“Why can’t we agree just to enjoy what we’ve got? Nothing more. No commitment.”
“No strings attached?”
He didn’t seem to pick up on the sarcasm in her voice. “I think we’d both want to be mutually exclusive.”
Tracy couldn’t believe it. The guy who’d blown up because she wouldn’t live with him after a few months was proposing an affair? “So how would this work? We get together for sex whenever one of us gets an itch that needs scratching?”
“That’s harsh.” Anger flashed in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “That was unfair. Your suggestion shocked me. Not what I’d expect you to suggest.”
He inclined his head, accepting her apology. “Now that you’re over the surprise, what do you think?”
She must be insane, because there was a part of her that actually wanted to give it a shot.
“I’m tempted. Obviously it suits my needs, but I’m not convinced it’s really what you want. That it’ll be enough for you.”
“I can make up my own mind about what I want.”
“I know it’s what you think you want now, but you won’t want it forever.”
“Forever is a long time. How does either of us know what we’ll want down the line?”
“I know that at some point you’ll want to settle down.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Her heart twisted. “No. I don’t want to get married again.”
“Never?” Ike shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it. “You don’t want kids?”
“Maybe someday.”
“I don’t get it. Why don’t you want to get married?”
“I don’t want to be someone’s wife again. I’ve seen too many marriages—including my own—where the wife starts out independent and slowly gets subsumed into her husband. She does what he wants and lives how he wants. I did it once and that was plenty.”
“I am not your ex,” he huffed.
“I know that.”
And she did. Hank had never respected her enough to consider what she might want. He’d never really listened to her. He’d only cared about what he wanted to mold her into, not what she wanted.
Ike might not like what she had to say, but he didn’t dismiss her out of hand. He might not like her priorities or her ambitions, but he was at least prepared to try to make things work between them. The problem was what happened when things went wrong. Or when they were no longer equal partners—like if she became his wife.
She wondered if it wasn’t so much that she didn’t trust Ike not to change, as she didn’t trust herself not to slip back into old habits.
“There’s such a thing as compromise,” he said.
“Compromise becomes the thin end of the wedge. Eventually, one person does all the giving. That won’t be me.” She smiled sadly at him. “And we both know it would never be you.”
“So that’s it?” His green eyes bored into hers. “You’re not even prepared to try?”
“I can’t.”
“You’re throwing away what we could have because you want things your own way?”
His words lashed at her, making her feel small and petty. Yet, at the same time, they strengthened her determination when she’d feared it had been about to waver.
Tracy raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “I’m saving us both a lot of heartache, Ike. You think you’ll be happy settling for what I can offer. But if you’re honest, you’ll know that one day it won’t be enough.”
Ike studied her for several long moments. His scrutiny made her courage tremble, like a muscle that has b
een worked too hard and too long. His jaw twitched as he clearly battled internally with himself. Slowly the sparks in his green eyes faded and dulled. His expression became shuttered.
Her heart mourned what she was losing, even though she knew he had never really been hers.
Finally, just when she thought she might crumble, Ike spun away. He went to jam his hands on hips, throwing his head back and cursing when his bandaged arm wouldn’t comply.
She should go. Yet she couldn’t make her feet move. She couldn’t even make her mouth work to tell him she was leaving.
“Have it your way,” he said wearily.
Her throat tightened. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. Better to say nothing.
Tracy turned on her heel and walked the few steps to the front door.
“I assume your services will continue as agreed.” His hard words echoed around the hall like ricocheting pucks.
She drew in a steadying breath, but didn’t turn around. “Of course.”
“Of course.” His mocking repetition of her words followed her out the door.
Tracy had just reached her car when the front door slammed shut. She flinched. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It was what she wanted. No, what she knew had to be. It still hurt like hell.
* * *
IKE LOVED THE HOLIDAYS, the traditions, the decorations and, of course, the food. But most of all, he loved spending time with the people he loved. Being surrounded by his family—whether blood, extended or of the ice—was truly special and he was always glad when the Cats’ schedule allowed him to be home for Thanksgiving.
The team was in town this year, so many of the guys and their families had come to Jake’s parents’ place for the annual Badoletti-Jelinek Thanksgiving party. It was a smaller family group, though, with Tru and Jenny in Colorado, Linc playing for his college team and his mom and Rory in Ireland. Ike missed them, but thanks to modern technology, they’d all chatted on Skype earlier.
Right now, Ike and the guys were in the kitchen, taking part in the traditional male cleanup after another gut-busting Thanksgiving lunch. A small ancient TV blasted out the pre-game chatter for the Cowboys-Eagles game. The air was rich with the scent of turkey, sweetened by the cinnamon and vanilla of homemade pies. The women were watching classic movies in the living room, having prepared the food.
Not all the women, of course. Tracy had rushed off before they’d even had dessert to deal with a client emergency. What the hell kind of emergency could anyone have on Thanksgiving—an under-cooked turkey? Apparently even on such an important family holiday, she couldn’t switch off. Or wouldn’t.
It wasn’t as though she were scrabbling to save her company from going under. From what she and Maggie had said over lunch, they’d have more than enough new business to make up for losing the Ice Cats’ contract. Maggie figured they might even hit the top three in the relocation market by Christmas, though Tracy had been more cautious.
Ike cast his mind back to the day she’d taken him home from the hospital. He’d been a fool to push her to rekindle their relationship. To think she could ever be the right woman for him. He’d known better. But he’d been thinking with his other head, which had been fired up by that mind-blowing kiss. He’d had a lucky escape.
Ike hated to admit it, but Tracy was right. They did have different priorities and expectations. He couldn’t be with a woman who put her clients ahead of family every time.
A wet sponge flew past his head.
“If I’d known I could get out of dish-washing duty, I’d have given myself a boo-boo on my arm, too,” Kenny grumbled from the sink.
Ike flipped his younger brother the bird. “Be careful what you wish for,” he growled. “I’d be happy to make your dream come true.”
“You and what army, net boy?” Kenny laughed. “You don’t have Tru defending your ass now, Jake’s got the baby on board and I can handle JB.”
Larocque, who was helping dry the dishes, snapped Kenny with a damp towel. “In your dreams, Kennedy.”
Jake switched Joe to his other shoulder. “Watch yourself, kid. My son’s full diaper is a lethal weapon.”
“Gross.” Kenny made the sign of the cross with his two forefingers as Jake carried Joe out of the kitchen. “Keep that toxic mess away from me.”
Juergen Ingemar, the Cats’ Swedish-born veteran forward, paused while stacking dried plates. “You told us you could deal with whatever crap was thrown at you, Kenny.”
“I’d take any amount of chirping and dirty hits over a dirty diaper.”
There was a heartfelt chorus of agreement.
JB coughed and muttered, “Chicken.”
“Speak for yourself.” Kenny elbowed his friend.
Larocque punched Kenny’s arm in retaliation. Kenny then grabbed JB in a neck lock. The two scuffled, and name-calling ensued.
“Watch the china, bozos.” Ike rose and stepped between them. “You break a plate and I’m cracking skulls.”
“They’re more scared of Jake’s mom than they are of you,” Juergen said calmly. “Besides, you’re pretty harmless right now, Ike.”
“Don’t you mean armless,” JB retorted.
Half the room groaned, the rest laughed, as everyone returned to their chores.
Man, he’d missed these guys. This was the first time since he’d injured himself that Ike had felt like he was still one of them. Not playing sucked, but being isolated from his teammates was worse. Ike was grateful to have even part of the day with them. They’d be bugging out of here in the next half hour to head down to Philly for tomorrow’s game.
Ike wished he could go with them. Instead he’d be left behind with the women, kids and old men. Crap. He’d better not get any invitations to play shuffleboard.
“If we’re done in here, I’m going to grab some cuddle time with my woman. Remind her of what she’ll be missing when I’m gone.” JB flashed his lady-killer grin, the one that could melt the panties off any woman between the ages of sixteen and sixty. “Even if it means enduring that damn chick flick they’re watching. The things we do for love.”
“You mean the things you’ll do to burn up the sheets with the hottest babe in town,” Kenny retorted, unable to hide his envy.
JB’s dates were always beautiful and famous, but he changed them as often as he changed his socks. His current arm candy was the star of the newest New York–based TV crime thriller. Even though the pair had been dating for almost a month—a record for the star forward—Ike didn’t see a wedding in their future.
Larocque feigned a hurt expression. “I’m capable of love.”
“Sure you are, JB,” Juergen said. “With the face you see in the mirror every morning.” He paused to let the hoots of laughter die down. “One of these days, some woman will knock you on your ass and then we’ll see what you’ll do for love.”
“Never gonna happen.” JB lifted his head arrogantly. “Just because you’re gaga over your new girlfriend, don’t toss that hearts and flowers crap at me.”
Juergen just grinned in response.
What a difference a few months made. The Swede had gone through a rough time last season when his fiancée, a Norwegian soap star, was caught in bed with her costar. It had devastated Juergen. But lately, he’d been dating again. Despite a rocky start—his new girlfriend was also an actress—it looked like things were working out. He’d even brought her along today.
Another man down for the count.
Scotty Matthews poked his head into the kitchen. “Ten minutes, guys, and we need to hit the road.”
In the flurry of goodbyes, Ike felt his mood darkening. Damn, he wanted to go with them. His mood was ripe for the kind of physical game the Flyers would give him.
The noise level in the house dropped once
they’d all gone. Ike walked back into the now-empty kitchen and grabbed a beer. Though he could hear laughter and chatter from the living room, the silence in the kitchen was oppressive. The room was too warm. Too enclosed. Suffocating.
He had to get out of there. He longed for the crisp air of a rink. The need to feel the ice beneath his blades surged up within him, like a captured beast raging against its chains.
Hell, he couldn’t even leave without help. He’d given his driver the day off. Maggie would give him a ride home later. But it would be a while yet before she’d be ready to go.
He hated that he couldn’t do a damn thing for himself. He hated being left behind yet again. He hated the whole situation. But then, that wasn’t news to anyone. Least of all him. Still, he didn’t have to hang out in the kitchen like some pathetic loser. He could use his legs, after all.
Ike grabbed his coat and headed outside onto the deck.
His arm ached. He should take a painkiller—even half a dose, just to take the edge off—but they made him feel dopey. He’d hold out until he got home, then the drugs could knock him out. That way, he might not dream.
He sighed, his breath forming a cloud in the chilly air. He was fed up with being down all the time.
Jake had warned him to find something else to think about, or he’d go nuts. “Put that famous focus of yours to good use. Study, take up a new interest, get your coaching credentials. Hell, write a book. Anything that isn’t physiotherapy and exercise.”
Ike needed a distraction. Maybe he should take his mom’s advice and do something about his lack of a personal life. He hadn’t dated—at least not seriously—in far too long.
He’d told himself it was because he needed to concentrate on his game. As each season passed, the game got a little tougher. It was harder to get ready for each battle and harder still to recover. To reach peak fitness and maintain it while grinding out eighty-two games took pretty much everything he had; there wasn’t much left over for anything else.
He felt too old and too jaded to do the club and party scene. Even if he did make the effort, the chances of finding the right kind of woman were near zero. The only women available were either starry-eyed girls who were empty-headed and clingy, or jaded older women aggressively looking for a wealthy second husband.
