And I only hoped that without me in the picture, her father had changed his mind on his ultimatum.
“Jackson,” Bentley called my name from the exit.
“What?” I snapped, jerking my head up toward him.
He walked to me, his hands raised. “Fucking chill, man. That redhead is outside asking for you.”
My heart jolted in my chest, the little bitch having the dare to hope. “Fucking tell her I’m not here.”
“Fuck you. I’m not your messenger.”
I arched my head to the ceiling. Why are you here, Paige? Why couldn’t she stay away?
The same reason you’ve practically been handcuffing yourself to your bed every night to keep from going to her.
Had my cold goodbye on the rooftop not been convincing enough? What else did I have to do to get her to believe I was the asshole everyone said I was?
I slipped a shirt over my head, unable to take the battle a second longer, and stepped into the hallway. There she was, as gorgeous as ever, hell, even more so since it had been a week since I saw her last. I had stayed away from the press, too, so I hadn’t even seen a picture of her. I hadn’t wanted to; it was too painful. And seeing her in person, now? Fuck, might as well rip my heart out and put it in a blender.
Her green eyes widened as she took me in and I self-consciously rubbed at the scruff decorating my chin. She was lucky I’d showered at all today. Shaving, eating, sleeping—they’d all fallen off my radar the second I’d forced her from my life.
“Hi,” she said, her voice smaller than I’d ever heard it.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, the anger from my conversation with Gage offering the perfect asshole tone I needed to use with her.
Her perfect red lips popped into the shape of an O before she straightened her spine. “I need to discuss something with you.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t.” God, I wanted to keep her talking. Just to hear her voice. You want more than that.
“Yes. It’s important.”
“Another contract?” I pulled out my best smirk. “I’m all booked now.” I love you. I need you. I’m sorry.
She sighed. “Stop. Please? I can tell this isn’t you.”
“You don’t know me.” I swallowed hard, praying she couldn’t see the Grecian battle raging inside me, fighting off every instinct that screamed out to touch her. Hold her. Beg for her to take me back.
“That’s a lie. I know you better than anyone ever has.”
“Whatever. Look, I’ve got to go.” I turned back toward the locker room, the move searing every inch of my insides.
“Rory,” she said, reaching out and touching my arm to stop me. Her fingers singed the bare skin, and I clenched my jaw to stop myself from grabbing her and kissing the breath out of her. She took the flex offensively, jerking her hand back as if I were going to bite. “I really need to talk to you.”
Everything in me wanted to know what she had to say, wanted to listen to her read a fucking menu if meant she kept talking, but the one part of me that truly loved her knew I couldn’t. “I’m already late,” I said. “Hot date tonight, so, whatever is why don’t you email it? Or just forget about it.” I spared her one last glance, just quick enough to catch the angry tears in her eyes before I shut the door in her face.
“What was that about?” Gage asked as he toweled his hair.
“I’m an asshole.” I snapped.
“Fuck, man what was that?” His eyes darted to the door and back to me. “Was it Paige?”
“Why does it matter?”
“What did she say?” The urgency in his tone had all my nerves on edge.
“Gage?”
“What did she say?” He practically growled.
“Nothing, man!” I shook my head. “I didn’t let her. I told her off. It’s better for her!” I didn’t want to have this fucking argument again.
Gage threw his massive arms in the air, searching the area for something to throw. With only the bench in reach, he took a steadying breath. Dude was way more in control than I was. “Fuck my life!” He screamed.
“What is up your ass, man?”
“Bailey is going to fucking kill me, that’s what.”
A knot formed in my stomach. “What are you talking about?”
“What I’m not supposed to be talking about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up at me. “I need you to be honest with me, man. Do you love her?”
I slit my eyes at him. “You know I do. That’s why I have to make her leave me—”
“Fuck your twisted way of protecting her. Of giving her a better life. Do you love her? Like, do anything for her kind of love?”
“You think I’d kill myself like this over someone who I didn’t?” I shrugged. “I’m in hell without her, but I’m willing to take that shit if it means she gets what she wants out of life. Things I can’t possibly give her.”
“All right. This conversation never happened.” Gage sighed. “She left her father’s company.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Basically told him to fuck himself for trying to make her choose between work and you.”
I’m such an asshole.
“But her shelter. The funding…”
“Didn’t matter. She still left.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Fuck.”
“There’s more, but you should really let her tell you.”
I cut my eyes to him. “How? How can there be more than that?”
He paced the length of the bench before us, battling with himself. “Fucking hell, man Bailey is going to chop something off of me…”
“I don’t care, bro! You’re fucking scaring me!”
“It’s not really my place—”
“Gage.” My tone had the death threat warning that stopped his pacing.
“Paige is…” he swallowed hard like the words were spikes coming out of his mouth. “Pregnant.”
I fell down, my ass hitting the bench with a loud smack. The edges of my vision went blurry—shiny like a sparkling fog had suddenly filled the locker room. Pregnant. The word repeated itself in my head and my heart raced. The image of a green-eyed, redheaded princess popped behind my fog covered eyes—she’d have a laugh like her mother’s. And a temper like mine.
“Rory?” Gage’s hand was on my shoulder, but his voice sounded far away.
The vision turned. One where Paige was left to raise our daughter alone all because I’d thought she’d be better off without me. No fucking way. She was mine. And if took an eternity I’d spend every day making up for all the shit I’d fucked up.
“Fuck, she thinks I don’t care about her!” I stood up, my eyes clearing. “She thinks I used her.”
“Wasn’t that your goal?” Gage said, looking at me with a smug face.
“I really am an asshole.”
He nodded. “There is time to make this right.”
“Right,” I said the word, withdrawing into myself. How could I possibly prove it to her? Prove to her I loved her more than anything on this entire fucking planet? A light clicked on in my overcrowded brain, and I snapped my eyes to Gage. “I know what I have to do.”
I just hoped it would be enough.
Chapter 18
Paige
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to—” Kelsey stopped speaking as I eyed her from the office in my home. She’d come with me when I’d left CranBaby with the intention of working for me at Wilson and Rowe. I had yet to accept their offer, though. I was currently content to wrap up some projects from home as I figured out the best course of action for us next.
I smoothed my hand over my tummy, as I did every time I thought the word us instead of me. My life had changed in the course of a few weeks, but I wouldn’t take a second of it back.
Maybe Rory. I might take him back.
I shoved the thought away, remembering how he wouldn’t even make time for me when I’d come to his practice, ready to tell him abo
ut the baby. I wasn’t going to ask him for anything. I just thought he had the right to know. Whether he cared or not, that would be up to him.
You know he would care.
I forced the voice in my head to shut up. She was such a traitor, always pulling up memories that proved he loved me. How could she believe that when all recent evidence pointed to the contrary. He’d said he was fucking dating! He moved on quicker than I could blink.
“I apologize,” I said, realizing Kelsey was still standing there. “What were you saying?”
“He called again.”
I sighed. Rory had tried to call every day for the past week. I’d ignored him. And the flowers. And the attempt when he knocked on my door earlier in the week. I’d given him an olive branch at the practice that day, and he’d thrown it in the garbage…just like me. I couldn’t continue to play his game and let him hurt me all over again. Especially now that I was responsible for more than one heart.
“That’s unfortunate.” I pulled up my email on my Mac, prepared to write to the contractors about my inability to continue funding the project of my dreams. I’d pooled all the resources and assets I had, and it hadn’t been enough to see the project to completion, even with my considerable savings. I’d been avoiding writing this email all week. “Please continue to ignore the calls. And make me aware if he shows up on the property again, all right?”
She looked down at me with worry in her eyes. “Maybe he’s sorry.”
“Maybe he is. Maybe I don’t care.”
“I think you do.” Now she was starting to sound like Bailey and Jeannine.
“Thanks for your concern, Kelsey. But I’m fine. Everything is fine.” I eyed her, and she gave me one nod, turning to leave the office.
An email from my head contractor was at the top of my inbox when I opened it, and I squinted, reading it three times to be sure I’d read it right. “Kelsey!” I screamed, and she ran back into the room.
“What?” She asked out of breath.
“This email says the project has been fully funded and paid up through the rest of the year.” I pointed at the text from my contractor. “Did my father call?”
She shook her head. “Not once. He’s out on the east coast I believe.”
I searched the letter again for a source of where the income had come from but came up empty. “Could you find out who supplied these funds, please?” I pointed to the screen and stepped away from the computer.
I walked into the kitchen, reaching for my cell. My thumb hovered over my father’s contact for a few minutes. Had he done this? Was this his way of trying to mend the burnt bridge between us? I hadn’t spoken to him since I’d left the company and a rock lodged itself in my throat at the thought. I hit the button, and it only rang once before he answered.
“Paige? Are you all right?” He asked without saying hello.
“I’m fine, father. I called to see if you were responsible?”
“For what?”
“For paying off my contractors. For supplying funds for the rest of my project.”
He sighed. “No, Paige. I had given that some thought, but I didn’t want you to think I was attempting to takeover what you started. If you will allow me, I would love to discuss a way in which I can help. Perhaps even discuss you coming back—”
“I can’t.” I took a deep breath.
“Word is you haven’t taken the position at Wilson and Rowe, yet.”
“I’m taking some personal time to think.”
“Good. That’s good. You should.” Silence took up the other end of the line for so long I thought we’d gotten disconnected. “I am sorry, Paige. I’ve never regretted anything more.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I cursed the hormones robbing my body of control. “That means a lot. Thank you, Father. I have to go.”
“Can we have lunch when I get back in town?” He asked before I could hang up.
“Sure.” I ended the call before I turned into a sobbing mess. I was still angry with him, but he was my father. I didn’t want to hate him forever.
“Paige?” Kelsey popped into the kitchen, and I jolted against the counter at her presence.
“Yes?”
“I found out who supplied the funds.”
I raised my eyebrows at her. “And?”
A smile played at the corner of her lips. “It was Rory.”
My mouth dropped. No way. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “One hundred percent.”
I stared at her without really seeing her. Funding my site was no small bill—it was in the millions. Sure, I knew Rory had more than that, but this? Why would he do this?
You know why.
That damned voice that was so Team Rory was back and whispering hope to my heart.
“Thank you, Kelsey,” I finally muttered, glancing at the cell still in my hand.
Rory loved me. He actually loved me. And Jeannine had been right all along. About my need of the list, about my need of Rory, and about his need to force me away in some twisted sense of protecting me. That was the only explanation.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, pushing his number on my phone. “I’ve got to make a call.”
She clapped her hands together before rushing off.
His number went straight to voicemail each time I tried to call. I glanced at the date and smacked my forehead. It was game four of the Stanley Cup Finals. The Sharks were at Ontario, which meant they were all the way in Ottawa, Canada.
I dialed another number. “Bailey!” I said once she answered. “What hotel are you, Gage and Rory staying at in Ottawa?”
“Four Seasons.” She answered immediately. “Why?”
Giddiness bubbled up in my throat before being shot down. “Wait. Can I fly in the first trimester?”
“Yes. You totally can,” she said, my expert mom of a friend. “But you have to take precautions. Drink tons of water, walk around the cabin as often as you can…”
“Okay,” I said after she continued to quote statistics and risks. “Thank you!”
“Of course! Get here, girl!” She cheered as I hung up.
I rushed around the house, packing in a flurry of movements after I’d called to reserve the company plane. I was still a Turner after all.
An hour later I was on the tarmac, my hand protectively over my stomach as I awaited takeoff. Rory couldn’t answer his phone right now. Fine. I’d come to him, but I was sure he’d known that. Hadn’t I always?
After seven hours, we’d landed with just enough time for me to call a cab, make it to the rink, and pay a guard an insane amount of money to let me watch the last of the game. The Sharks won in a shutout and Rory was glorious to behold. He skated faster, hit harder than I’d ever seen him. He was on fire.
They were tied at two games each, which meant Game Five would be in Seattle. Home.
I couldn’t wait another second before seeing him.
I pounded on the locker room door after they’d fled the ice. Screaming his name like a madwoman.
It only took a second for him to swing it open, rushing out of it without a shirt on and covered in fresh game sweat.
The breath caught in my throat as I locked eyes with his crystal blue gaze. I smiled at him, unable to speak, unable to move. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he took two agonizingly slow steps toward me before he sank to his knees. He timidly gripped my hips, and I sighed from his touch. Planting a kiss on my stomach, I gasped.
“You know?”
He stood up, towering over me as he cupped my cheek. “I know.”
“And?” I asked, fear clogging my veins with ice.
“And I love you, Red.” He pressed his slick forehead against mine. “I’ve never loved anyone else. And I’m sorry for—”
I cut him off with a kiss, unable to take a second longer where his lips weren’t on mine. He gently lifted me to his level, stroking my mouth with his tongue like it was the last time he ever would. Pulling back, I gasped for the breath he stole fro
m me, and he quickly set me down, his eyes darting over every inch of my body.
“Did I hurt you?” He touched my stomach, and I laughed.
“No. Rory, we’re fine.” I smiled.
He snapped his eyes up to me. “Are we?”
I bit my bottom lip, tears filling my eyes as I looked at the man of my dreams. I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “We are.”
He sighed and kissed me quickly. “I should shower,” he said but made no motion to leave.
“And get dressed,” I teased, glancing down at his Bauer hockey pants.
“I don’t want to leave you again.” He pushed some hair away from my face.
“You won’t.” I shook my head. “I won’t let you.”
His lips crushed mine before he pulled back. “I love you.”
“I love you,” I said. “Now go. Shower. I’ll meet you at the hotel.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You know where I’m staying?” he smirked. “You know, a woman once told me that stalking is only sexy in the movies.”
I laughed, pressing up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Right. And lists are meant for groceries.” I winked at him before turning on my heels and walking toward the exit.
Epilogue
Rory
The crowd roared as we left the ice, the spotlights spinning in a chaotic pattern, the music’s beat pulsing with the blood in my veins. The pressure was on this season, and we’d just won our opening game. As defending Stanley Cup champions, we had everything to lose.
But I had everything to gain.
Like the eight-point-five million dollar a year contract I’d just signed this summer with the Sharks that guaranteed to keep me in Seattle for the next five years, and made me the ninth highest paid player in all of the NHL.
I sped through my locker room routine, while I joked with the guys and tormented the newest rookies, whose eyes were as big as saucers. No more goofing off, no more stalling before heading out to the bar. Game was over, and I had better things to do than hang around the locker room.
Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2) Page 18
