The Man Upstairs (You, Me & The Kids)

by Pamela Bauer

  “Why did you sneak out on me the other night?” It was a question that had been bothering him ever since he’d awakened and found her gone.

  “I didn’t exactly sneak away.”

  “You left before morning.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t feel as if I knew you well enough to spend the night.”

  He wondered if she saw the irony in that statement. She knew him well enough to have sex with him but not well enough to sleep beside him.

  “You didn’t expect me to stay all night, did you?” she asked.

  No, he hadn’t, yet that hadn’t stopped him from being disappointed when he woke up and found she was gone. “I didn’t expect you to, but it could have been an interesting morning if you had,” he said with a sly smile. When she looked away, he wondered if she regretted what had happened. “You’re right. We don’t really know each other very well. Maybe we rushed into sleeping together.”

  She looked at him then and said, “Maybe we did, but it felt right to me.”

  It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He reached for her left hand. “It felt right to me, too, and not just because it was great sex.” He was pleased when she didn’t correct him. “You’re so different from any of the women I’ve known.”

  “I’m sure I am,” she said with a lift of her brows.

  “Different in a good way…a very good way,” he assured her.

  She looked down at their hands, where his thumb was moving slowly back and forth across her skin. “You want me because I’m not like most of the women you meet. I don’t throw myself at you.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “So what do you want from me?”

  Again he felt as if he were exploring new territory. Women usually made demands of him. Now he was the one having to say he didn’t want her going out with other guys, that he wanted her to date only him.

  “I want you to think of me as the guy in your life. The only guy.”

  She looked up him then. “Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend?”

  “Isn’t that what usually happens when two people who are dating want to see more of each other? They become boyfriend and girlfriend? I know we’re not exactly high school kids, but I think the general idea applies to people our age, too,” he said with a grin.

  “Well, yes, but…”

  He wasn’t expecting a but. “I’ve been told I make a pretty decent boyfriend,” he said with a false modesty, hoping to erase that look of seriousness on her face.

  She smiled weakly. “I’m sure you do, but I don’t make a very good girlfriend.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he said, not wanting to believe that she could be giving him the brush-off. “Tell me why you think that it’s true.”

  “My work takes up almost every waking moment of my life,” she answered. “My job is the most important thing to me.”

  “You think hockey isn’t to me? You already know we have that in common,” he reminded her.

  “I’m not looking for a serious relationship.”

  If any other woman had said that to him, he wouldn’t have believed her, but with Dena he knew it was true. “Neither am I.”

  She smiled then. “I didn’t think you were, but I thought I should make it perfectly clear where I stand on the issue. Commitment…marriage…children…that’s all way far ahead in the future…if it’s even in the future,” she said in a warning tone.

  “Why do you think I’m still single? Half of my working life I spend on the road. It’s a lifestyle that’s not easy for me, let alone a wife and kids. I know the day’s going to come when I’ll no longer be able to have that lifestyle. Then it’ll be time to start thinking about whether or not I want a wife and kids. Until then, I don’t want to think about it.”

  She was silent, and he said, “It seems to me that we’re a perfect fit. We both want the same things. No promises, no expectations, no worrying about the future.”

  “But you’re a hockey player,” she said weakly.

  He threw up his hands. “Okay, so I have one small flaw.” He grinned then and said, “If you’re worried about the attention I get from the public, you don’t need to be. I’ve learned how to keep a very low profile.”

  He leaned closer to her so he could put his arm around her. “It’ll work for us, Dena. I know it will, and it’ll be great. I like you, and I want to be with you.”

  “I want to be with you, too.” The provocative look in her eyes had him pulling her onto his lap.

  “Then you agree we belong together…for now, anyway?”

  “Yes.”

  It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He bent to kiss her, his hands finding the soft curves of her body. She felt good in his arms, and before long the rest of the buttons had come undone on her shirt.

  As he bent his head to her breast she stopped him. “What about your game tomorrow?”

  “It’s not until seven at night. I’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to regain the energy I’m going to lose tonight.”

  DENA HAD NEVER HAD a boyfriend quite like Quinn. He was different from any man she had dated and not simply because he was a professional athlete. When they were together he showered with her attention, and when they were apart he made sure she knew he was thinking about her, leaving her messages on her cell phone if she missed his call. Never had she been treated with such chivalry. It was not what she would have expected from a man who had a reputation for knocking men down on the ice.

  They were together as often as their work allowed. They went to a play at the Guthrie Theater, a monster truck show at the Target Center, saw an exhibition of Norman Rockwell’s work at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, and watched videos on his big-screen TV.

  Dena suspected part of the reason they had so much fun was because they’d set the ground rules for their relationship. It took the pressure off both of them. She had no delusions that he would last longer than any of her other boyfriends, and there was none of the usual second-guessing about where their relationship was heading.

  They’d tried to avoid the public eye as much as possible, preferring to keep their relationship private. Dena knew that Quinn liked the fact that she had little interest in the world of professional hockey. It meant that when he was with her he could simply be Quinn Sterling, the guy upstairs.

  That was why she was a bit surprised when he asked her to go with him to a party given by one of the executives of the Cougars organization. Dena wanted to say no, but she could tell by the look on Quinn’s face that the party was important to him.

  As she rummaged through her closet searching for something suitable to wear, she wondered if she hadn’t made a mistake. She didn’t like parties, and this one would be full of strangers who were all part of a world foreign to her.

  She didn’t even know how to define suitable attire when it applied to a party of professional athletes. It didn’t help that it was April and not really winter, yet not really spring. She pulled out a red silk blouse and held it up to her chest, grimacing at the small spot on the collar. She went across the hall to the bathroom. She was dabbing at the spot with a damp cloth when Krystal showed up.

  “Hey, Dena. Want to go with me to see a movie tonight?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I already have plans for this evening,” she told her, her attention on the fabric.

  “With Quinn?”

  Dena didn’t know why she should be surprised that her neighbor would know that she was seeing Quinn. They all lived in the same house.

  “Yes, with Quinn.” She hoped her tone would discourage Krystal from probing any further. It didn’t.

  “Omigosh. You’re dating a Cougar!” she said in awe. “Do you realize what it means to date a professional athlete?”

  “He’s just a guy, Krystal.”

  “Maybe, but you better be careful. I know Quinn is a cool guy and he seems to be pretty nice, but most professional jocks are catch and release.”

  Dena looked up from the blouse. “Th
ey’re what?”

  “Catch and release. You know, once a guy catches a girl, he releases her,” she explained. “Some guys aren’t looking to keep any girl.”

  Dena said, “Maybe I’m the one who’ll catch and release.”

  Krystal flapped her hand at her. “Yeah, right. As if any woman in her right mind would dump Quinn Sterling.”

  Dena didn’t want to be discussing Quinn with Krystal. She turned her attention back to the blouse. “I don’t think I’m going to get this stain out.”

  “Can’t you wear something else?”

  “I don’t have anything else that I feel comfortable wearing,” she said, tossing the damp cloth aside in disgust.

  “That’s because red is a power color.” She lifted a sleeve and held it next to Dena’s cheek. “You’re lucky…it’s not an easy color for blondes to wear, yet it’s good on you.”

  “It would be if it didn’t have a spot on it.” She held the blouse up to the light and frowned. “Silk really should be dry-cleaned. I think I may have made it worse.”

  “I have some of those dry-cleaning sheets, if you want to try one,” she offered. “You just pop it in the dryer with your blouse.”

  Dena eyed the garment. “This is probably all wrong for the party, anyway.”

  “What kind of party is it?”

  “I don’t know. All Quinn said was that it was in North Oaks.”

  Krystal whistled softly through her teeth. “Okay, you’re talking bucks now. Is this a party for hockey players?”

  Dena was reluctant to tell her very much and simply said, “Quinn said they were friends of his. To me they’ll simply be a roomful of strangers.”

  “Strangers with money if they live in North Oaks,” she stated with a knowing lift of her brows. “I bet it’s going to be one posh party.”

  Dena’s shoulders sagged. “Another reason for me not to go. I probably should have told him no.”

  Krystal sighed. “At least you have a date. Ever since Roy left, my life has been so boring.”

  “You’re not seeing anyone else?”

  “How can I? Roy is off serving our country. He wanted me to be here waiting for him while he does his duty. This is not a time to be juggling.”

  Dena hid her smile. Ever since Roy had waltzed back into Krystal’s life and asked her to be his one and only, she had changed her attitude about dating.

  “Has he been sent overseas?”

  She nodded. “But where, I don’t know. All the mail comes through the military post office so it’s impossible to tell where he’s stationed. Not that he writes often, because he doesn’t.” She stifled a yawn. “Maybe it’s a good thing you have plans. I’m tired. I should probably curl up in my bed with the remote. You have a good time tonight, okay?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Dena didn’t think it was likely that she’d enjoy herself. Posh settings were not her scene, nor were parties with hockey players, and she almost canceled at the last minute.

  But then Quinn was at her door looking ever so handsome in a suit and tie. She was glad the silk blouse had a spot on it because it had forced her to look at another option in her closet—a fringed suede skirt that she topped with a matching vest. The look on Quinn’s face told her it was a good choice.

  As they drove to the party her father’s training paid off. He’d always taught her, “Never let them see you sweat.” In most situations in life she’d been able to follow that advice. Tonight was no exception. And she was glad.

  When Krystal had said the St. Paul suburb was posh, she hadn’t been wrong. A gated drive prevented unwanted guests from making an appearance. One look at the cars parked outside the house told Dena the people who lived inside were definitely in a different income bracket than she was.

  She imagined it wasn’t much different than many of the executive homes in the area. Its size alone was impressive. Once inside, Dena saw the reason. It had an indoor gym that included a small pool, whirlpool, weight room and steam room. Although it was home to a middle-aged couple with no children, the house had eight bedrooms, a kitchen that Dena was certain only caterers had ever used, a video arcade, an in-home theater, and a billiard room.

  Determined not to let Quinn see how unsure of herself she was, she held her head high and placed a gracious smile on her face as she was introduced to hockey players, their wives and girlfriends. She knew her presence raised more than one eyebrow, and she wondered what kind of date Quinn usually brought to Cougar parties. Not that it mattered. She was the one he had chosen to bring tonight, and she knew most women would have loved to have been in her shoes.

  Only she wasn’t most women. As friendly as everyone was, she couldn’t help but feel out of place. Being at the party reminded her of what different worlds she and Quinn lived in.

  On the way home she knew he was going to ask the inevitable question. They hadn’t been in the SUV but a few minutes when he said, “Did you have a good time?”

  She told him the truth. “It was interesting.”

  “Is that a polite way of saying you were bored stiff?”

  She chuckled. “It would be impossible to be bored at a party like that. I may have been a little outside of my comfort zone, but it was actually quite fascinating to see how hockey players party.”

  “Like most other people do, I would imagine. They eat, they drink, they laugh.”

  “Most people don’t have that kind of venue for their house parties,” she reminded him. “That house was incredible. I’ve always heard about people who have pools in their homes, but I’d never actually seen one before tonight.”

  “Some people believe a man’s home should be his castle.”

  “And is that what you think?”

  He glanced sideways at her. “Sure. It’s just that some of us don’t need as fancy a castle as others.” He reached across the seat and took her hand. “I’m glad you were with me tonight. I usually don’t bring a date to team parties.”

  That surprised her. “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t wanted to until tonight. I told you. You’re different from the women I usually date.”

  She reached across the seat and kissed him on the cheek. “You are so sweet.”

  “Sweet on you.” He tossed another sideways glance her way. “And just as soon as this season’s over, I’m going to show you. Are you as tired of winter as I am?”

  “Winter ended last month. Remember Leonie’s party? April is a spring month.” It was said with tongue-in-cheek.

  “Spring as in the lakes are still frozen,” he stated dryly. “In one week hockey will be over, and once things quiet down, I’m going to take you someplace warm and sunny where we can lie on a white sand beach and sip those little drinks with the umbrellas in them. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds wonderful, but I’m afraid I haven’t been at my job long enough to have earned any vacation time.”

  “Then we’ll have to make it a weekend. How about Cancun?”

  Images of white sand beaches and blue skies came to mind. “I’ve never been to Mexico,” she said dreamily.

  “There are any number of resorts we could go to. All of them are beautiful. It’s the perfect getaway at this time of year when you’re waiting for the weather to warm up but it stays cold. And I can promise you I make a good tour guide.”

  She imagined him in a pair of sandals and cutoff denims, his muscular chest bare. “When were you thinking about going?”

  “I leave tomorrow for our final road trip and the last games of the season. Because we didn’t make the playoffs, all that’s left to do when I get back is to clean out my locker and say goodbye to my teammates. Then it’s off to Mexico, so you’d better find that bikini you say you haven’t unpacked,” he said with a wink.

  She didn’t want to tell him that she hadn’t been in a swimsuit since she’d been required to take swimming in gym class. “I should warn you, I swim about as well as I ice skate.”

  “Half those bikinis on those resort beac
hes never see a drop of ocean water,” he said with a grin. “Besides, we’re not going there to swim. I can think of plenty of other ways to keep you entertained.”

  She didn’t doubt for a minute he would.

  DENA PREFERRED not to celebrate her birthday. The last time she’d actually had a cake had been when she’d turned twenty. That was because Maddie had baked one for her.

  And she especially wanted to skip her thirtieth birthday. Lisa, however, was not about to let the day pass. She insisted Dena come over for dinner after work.

  To Dena’s relief, her sister-in-law hadn’t invited anyone else to join the party. She’d made a chocolate cake, which her niece had decorated with yellow candy letters that spelled out Happy Birthday Auntie Dena. There was a beautiful pink azalea in the center of the table—a gift from her brother and Lisa—and several small, odd-shaped packages next to her plate from the children.

  “I bet you can’t guess what’s inside this one,” Bethany said in a teasing voice as she fiddled with the purple ribbon on one of the packages.

  “No, I most certainly cannot,” Dena replied.

  “You get to sit here because you’re the birthday girl,” the eight-year-old girl said, pulling back the chair that was normally her brother’s place at the table. “And you get to wear this,” She gave her a paper crown.

  “Bethany, she doesn’t want to wear some dumb paper crown,” Jeremy chided.

  “Yes, she does,” Bethany insisted, then turned to Dena and asked, “Don’t you?”

  “Maybe I should wear it when we have the cake,” Dena suggested.

  “Don’t you like it? I made it for you.” The tiny face looked crestfallen.

  “It’s beautiful. Of course I like it.” She set it on her head, although she couldn’t get it to stay, as it flopped first to one side, then the other before falling off.

  “I’ll get some bobby pins,” Bethany declared before scooting away.

  Luke began banging his spoon on his plate. “I’m hun…greee,” he drawled in a whining tone.

  “See what you’re missing being single, Dena?” Ryan said as he stilled Luke’s tiny hands.

  “How come you’re not married?” Jeremy asked, which brought a gasp from his mother’s mouth and a reprimand.